WAS IT ALL WORTHWHILE? There comes a time in every filmmaker’s journey, usually at the end of a project, when he/she asks that question. One has worked so hard, for so long, it can seem a labor of folly, delusion, or ego. Is it?
To answer that, one must consider the enterprise from a variety of perspectives. First, on one level, making a movie is a business venture, and must be evaluated on results. How much was spent, and how much did it make? The criterium for “success” here is fairly straightforward. Makes money = successful business venture. Loses money = not so much.
Of course it would be foolish to consider so grand an undertaking as making a movie purely on monetary terms. For the filmmaker, making a movie has the potential to provide profound personal gains. It is a tremendous learning experience on many levels. One learns the practical reality of making a movie, has numerous relationships with scores of people, witnesses (hopefully) the magic of the creative process. The filmmaker also learns about themself, their abilities, their limitations, their inspiration, their ego. It is truly a raw and blunt encounter with self.
But if it were only about money and personal experience, it wouldn’t be that special. What is special is the opportunity to be of service, to be the leader of a team, enabling others to work with passion, to be on a journey of discovery that will inspire and enlighten others.
When I look back at the process of making The Prankster, perhaps the most gratifying aspect was the opportunity to bring together a diverse group of human beings and take them on a journey, one that they (hopefully)remember fondly, perhaps for the rest of their lives.
No, we did not have the perfect set – there is no such thing. Human beings are, after all, imperfect creatures on a path of growth. For the most part, most people got on really well. Some didn’t. There was even a little serious dislike going on. But everyone learned.
Ultimately, one hopes that the honesty of the process shows in the finished product, and that the audience catches the vibe that was on the set, that was generated by example. Films have an invisible energy. The intention and emotion on the set as a whole is communicated in the image, months and years later. Energy is timeless.
All that said, in the end one must have a very heavy dose of humility, and laugh at the seriousness with which we have taken ourselves, and with which we judge our experience. Was it all worth it? Was breathing worth it? Was the sunset worth watching? Is there anything more worthwhile than this moment?
And then you get it. Making a movie is, like everything else, just being present, just being in the now. May your movie be profitable, personally rewarding, and of service to those who make it, and those who watch. And may we smile when we pause to look back on it, no matter the result.