Why I Make Art: A Personal Manifesto

By Justin Joseph Hall

“Artist” is such a vague term I usually don’t like to use it. Maybe that’s also an aversion I have from growing up in the Midwest where artists are often scorned or mocked as high-society.  First of all, an artist has nothing to do with class or the amount of formal education someone has.  My definition of making meaningful art is perfecting details of a piece of artwork.  This means putting in the time to place every detail in the way that is “perfect” to the artist, and the artist alone.  A skeptic may say that certain steps in the creative process are not important, but anything that leads me to a better way to communicate or express through the language of my art clearly is important to what we call the artist’s process.

To me, an artist is someone who can speak towards a subject in a new light using context and setting. They can express complex or emotional ideas through their individual medium because they are often difficult to express with language in general conversation.  By speaking through a medium, I am able to release what I want to say in a different context that I define as an artist. 

Creating an artwork is a form of communication that can be larger than daily dialogue.  It brings people together to have an emotional experience that the artwork evokes within the audience.  The individual audience members can take an emotional cue from the artwork based off their own life experience.

Freedom - Photo by Justin Joseph Hall

When I am creating artwork such as a film, if I am not precise in my decisions then the artwork runs the risk of saying nothing.  Or worse, saying something with an unintended impact.

The creation of great art is an understanding between many human beings as another form of language.  It is developing a unique language through an artist’s process for ideas and emotions that words cannot express.

I’m not advocating that every detail in every piece of art is planned. It is not.  Some of the variability is actually controlling what is random.  Just take Jackson Pollock.  He used gravity and physics of splashing paint part of his expression because he thought it was meaningful.  He controlled how the paint was flung, but the tiny details he left to physics.  Jackson Pollock let us see physics in a new way expressed through paint.

Now I’m not a painter, I am a director.  How does this variability apply to directors?  Often, as a director, the medium we help deliver our story and our message is through actors and crew.  These people are usually very intelligent and skilled.  I like to give the people I’m working with room to express what they believe the story is and be open to their interpretations.  This way I’m guiding a cinematographer or an actress in a direction with boundaries.   In this way, like Pollock gave freedom to the paint falling by releasing it at a certain point in the air, a director has many opportunities for a creative team to be released into their work in an organized manner.

The details of the world an artist creates is important, and so is being specific about which details to focus on.  One of my biggest lessons was a mistake I made editing a short comedy.  I left a lot of jokes in a scene because I thought the actor was hilarious.  However, I left in too much of his individual performance and didn’t pay attention to the flow of the story.  There are so many jokes in a row that the audience only laughs at half of them.  On top of that, they laugh over some of the jokes. This is distracting and makes the film feel too long.  Because I left in too much material it made the movie worse even though I consider the material I left in as great.

This can happen in any genre. For example a horror movie can make the mistake of not leaving silent time for sound design and music that is integral to scare people. In a documentary, a mistake would be packing in too many facts without giving the audience time to process.

These details are hard to spot and take time and practice to notice.  One has to change their mindset from minute details such as the individual edit, to a larger detail of the big picture of the story.  This idea is applied to film here, but can be applied to other mediums. Imagine making the fingertips perfect on the Venus de Milo and in the end realizing the statue is better without any of the arms or hands.  Or recording a 2 minute amazing guitar solo but having to cut it out because it doesn’t add to the melancholy feeling you are trying to express in the rest of the song.

It’s important not to compromise on the core expression of artwork over small details; but that doesn’t mean an artist can’t collaborate.  Just as McCartney and Lennon collaborated with each other, they had disputes, but they found how to focus on what’s important to each individual artist.  It is important to work with other artists who don’t compromise the main expression in one’s art.  Sometimes it takes time to find what you are trying to express, but the best collaborations help enhance the communication at the core of the artwork.

Brooklyn in Manhattan - Photo by Justin Joseph Hall

It’s important to work with people who do not impede your message. Don’t compromise with those who pay you to create to sacrifice what you believe in.  If you do, you are compromised as an artist as long as you participate in suppressing your beliefs in exchange for money.  I think this is important to keep in mind.  If you care more about money, no worries, then you are a commercial technician for someone else, which is totally fine and respectable in itself, but it is not creating art.

Money is always an important consideration and you need to pay the bills, but I’d suggest if a collaboration isn’t helping you become better at expressing what you want to express, you will be replaceable because you’re not refining what is of value for you.  So if you have to take a job that doesn’t go along with your ideals due to money conflicts, make sure you’re being more adequately compensated for your time so you can have enough money to work towards not needing to make that kind of compromise in the future.

I could not find a job for about 2 years and only found part-time work for 5 years in a row in the field I wanted to be in: editing film.  But I held to my ideals of quality and preservation for the future when finishing films.  Everyone told me over and over the quality didn’t matter and no one cares, but I did.  I took the time to make everything right and you know who cared in the end?  Companies who were making incredible films, HBO, PBS, and so many other networks.  Taking the time to perfect my personal workflow was worthwhile.

For example, I believe in diversity of perspectives in problem solving as well as preserving our environment.  I had to be honest in an interview when applying for a documentary that had to do with bringing a power plant to a nearby neighborhood.  The project ended up being a propaganda piece and it would not have been helpful to me or anyone if I took that job for the money.  Instead, I honed in on my craft and I began working with Downtown Community Television, a documentary company that believes in diversity and social change.  We’re a great match, but it took time to find a collaborator that didn’t conflict with my core beliefs in my work. 

The final touches in a project make it meaningful.  Those final touches are sometimes the hardest part of a project to finish. For example, whenever I edit a scene I work on individual cuts 10-50 times in an edit if I’m trying to make a difficult cut smooth.  This is so I watch each frame and scene enough to process how everything emotionally relates to one another.  This is important because emotions are fluid and in storytelling, we often take the audience for an emotional ride, but that means gradual changes.  Small distractions can take you out of that emotional ride and bring you back into reality.  An example could be a hand that’s out of place in one shot to the next, or blinking eyes not matching within a scene.  Adjusting these tiny details on each and every cut makes sure the audience is not distracted by something being “off” that takes them away from the story.

This may not pay off in the short term, but in my experience, concentrating on my own voice, uniqueness and expression paid off in the long run.  Because now I have concrete examples of expression that is unique to me and my style.  This enabled me to offer that skill to anyone that I work for and has found me more collaborators to work with and create final products that make me proud to be an artist.

Security - Models Isabel Restrepo & Lauren Thompson, photo by Justin Joseph Hall

The Kids are in the Picture, Part 2: Production

Tips for working with children on set

By Elizabeth Chatelain

This is the second article in a 2-part series about working with child actors. If you haven’t read the first part yet, read it here. 

Rehearsals

Serenity Gress (Jenny) and Elizabeth Chatelain (Writer/Director) on the set of Sundogs (Photo Credit: Caitlin Prentke).

 So now you have decided which kids you are going to be working with. The next step is rehearsals and production. In the first rehearsals, I am really just trying to make the child comfortable around me, to trust me. I usually invite the parents at least to this first rehearsal. We talk about what the child likes in school, their family, etc. And I share that about myself with them. I also ask them how they would describe their character, so we are on the same page. In Paper Geese, I introduced Payson, who played the lead character Rowan, to the geese we would be using in the film. They were in my mom’s backyard. Payson immediately responded to them and became more confident in her interactions with me.

Payson Jane (Rowan), Elizabeth Chatelain (Writer/Director), Alejandro Mejía (Cinematographer) on Paper Geese (Photo Credit: Taylor Thompson).

 Depending on the child actor’s age, I will also play some acting games with them to start. As in the audition, I encourage them to use their imagination to act out a number of different scenarios. If they are old enough (about 8-9 and older) we will also go through the lines on the second rehearsal. We’ll talk about what the character in the story is feeling from scene to scene.

 Emotionally mature kids will be able to read the subtext of what is going on in a scene between characters with a little guidance. When I worked on Jenny and Steph in rehearsals, all three of the girls in the main roles grasped this almost immediately. Jenny was twelve, Steph was fourteen and Rose was fifteen. I had them act out the scene using subtext for their lines instead of what was written. And I was shocked that they did it with such ease. They had a profound understanding of what the characters wanted from one another. I find that having at least three or so rehearsals with actors, especially children, is fundamental, unless working with a small child. Again, the goal is to get them comfortable with you, because once all the people and lights are up, it has the potential of being intimidating. That’s another reason why I usually limit the crew to a small number. That way it is more comfortable for the kids.

Kathryn Kingsley (Mother), Elizabeth Chatelain (Writer/Director), Hudson Kingsley (David) Payson Jane (Rowan) on Paper Geese (Photo credit: Taylor Thompson).

 Working with Children 7 and Younger

 When working with my niece, Serenity, who was about four years old at the time, her mother was always in the scene with her (this was a mother/daughter story). She also knew me quite well already. This created a safe space for her. We didn’t do any rehearsals with Serenity before shooting Sundogs, because in her case, it was better that she didn’t think too much about what is going on from one scene to the next. It was best to keep her present and fresh. As a four-year-old, you hit your limit of takes pretty quickly, and in general, the first couple takes are usually the best. I would say this is also true when working with non-professional actors; in later takes they grow more self-conscious, which leads to a feeling of inauthenticity. 

Kathryn Kingsley (Mother), Elizabeth Chatelain (Writer/Director), Hudson Kingsley (David) Payson Jane (Rowan) on Paper Geese (Photo credit: Taylor Thompson).

Compliant Scheduling

The other thing to take into consideration when working with children in films is the time restraints that you have, especially if the production is SAG. You also have to research the child labor laws, which differ from state to state. This is another deterrent that makes filmmakers wary of working with children. Kids can only work a certain number of hours, dependent on age, and if you are shooting during the school year, you must provide them with a tutor. Short films can work with this a little bit more easily – shooting on vacations or during the summer, allotting 5-6 days instead of 3. I found this has also been easier on the crew, even if you have to pay a little more for lodging and meals. Everyone feels more rested and less stressed. Children can easily detect a negative vibe, so you want everyone to be in a good mood if possible.

Payson Jane (Rowan) on Paper Geese, (Photo Credit: Taylor Thompson).

 Effective Communication

 The last thing I’ll mention is the filmmaker’s communication with the kids on set. You never want them to feel like they are doing another take because they “screwed up” or this will lead to more anxiety and less authentic performances. Make sure to say something positive after every take and give them direction that is just a little “different” rather than “right.” Encourage them as much as you can. Acting is already full of rejection so you want them to know they are doing a great job, which they most likely are. They want to do well as much as you want them to do well. So make sure to communicate with them after every take. The big takeaway here is that in order to have the best performances from kids, make the set a comfortable and safe place in which they feel nurtured and appreciated. They are just as important as anyone on set.

Elizabeth Chatelain is an award-winning writer and director from North Dakota. Her feature screenplay SUNDOGS participated in the Berlinale Script Station, the Hedgebrook Screenwriter’s Lab, and was an Academy Nicholl Fellowship Semi-Finalist, Atlanta Film Festival Screenplay Competition Winner, and Showtime Tony Cox Screenplay Competition Winner. Follow Elizabeth on Instagram @emchatelain and at her website, elizabethchatelain.com.

If there are other questions you want to be answered in a blog post, let us know at info@fourwindfilms.com or visit our website at www.fourwindfilms.com. Also, we work with a large, diverse community of crew and artists working in most aspects of the filmmaking process and are always happy to help make connections. And we are always building our community! Send us your work for review or feedback.

Meredith Alloway on Staying Motivated as a Writer, Genre Filmmaking, and Making Your First Films

Interview by Piper Werle

Photo by Victoria Stevens.

Meredith Alloway is a multi-hyphenate badass. Recent milestones in her career include screening her short film Deep Tissue at festivals all over the world including SXSW, directing a Paris Jackson music video, and partnering with Hulu, Sundance Institute, and 20th Century Digital Studios on her last two short films. Her feature film High Priestess is in development with Phantom Four, David S. Goyer’s company.

For years Meredith worked as a film journalist while building her career as a screenwriter, director, actor, and producer, but these days she’s focused on filmmaking. She offers much-needed transparency about breaking into the industry, funding your first (and second) project, and finding your voice. Meredith is also a huge horror film buff and offers insight into genre filmmaking, and how some of her favorite filmmakers defy existing genres by creating their own.

A promo image for First Date, a short film released as part of Hulu’s “Bite Sized Halloween,” written by Allyson Morgan, directed by Meredith Alloway, starring Hari Nef and Kara Young (pictured above). Photo by Victoria Stevens.

Fourwind Films: So you are a screenwriter/director/actor, and producer. Do you see benefits in being a “slashie”?

Meredith Alloway: Yeah, I think so. There was a time in my 20s where I felt like I was like a jack of all trades, master of none. And now that I’m in my 30s, I’ve seen the ways that being involved in a number of different things has sort of fed the ultimate goal, which is to make movies. To direct them, but also write them. I think also, as a woman, there is this phase. When I was transitioning from being a journalist to a filmmaker, I remember another woman, actually, asked me “how are you going to do that?” In a way that — she wasn’t meaning to be condescending. But I was like, what do you mean?! Like, do you know how many men are jacks of all trades and masters of all? You’d never ask Donald Glover like, “um you’re going to make music now and then you’re going to act? How are you going to do that?” And that was like three years ago before Deep Tissue had gone and done SXSW and been on the festival circuit so I was still doubting a little bit. And I had only made one movie and I was like, oh no. And then I said, you know what? I can do it all. Like I think it’s really just aligning in and seeking your bliss and following the things that you love. Even going to theater school, you know, we joke that having a BFA is just like a piece of paper, who cares. But there have been so many times where even working on this latest pitch I can say, oh, this is the Medea story. Because you forget how many of these plays and literature have influenced storytelling. If I hadn’t spent so much time in theater school studying playwrights, I wouldn’t know about those archetypes that I learned through osmosis of doing plays and reading them. And I think it’s influenced me as a writer. 

So I think having your hand in a little bit of everything feeds anything you’re doing. 

And I think even with producing, it’s great to have done that because now I feel like I know what producing is and how to hire other people, even if I’m not the producer on the job. I don’t think I’m necessarily a great producer and I don’t have a ton of experience. But even dabbling in certain areas, now I’m like, oh, I have so much more respect for people that do that and have a better sort of way and perspective when hiring the people around me.

"Let Down" performed by Paris Jackson. Available now: https://ParisJackson.lnk.to/LetDownVD ►Subscribe for more official content from Paris Jackson: https://...

FF: Yeah, I love what you said about how at some point, the goal is just to make the movie, and sometimes, especially when you’re starting out, you just have to play more than one role.

MA: You have to. You have to. Well I mean, even with my short, Deep Tissue, I was in it. That was mainly because I was like, I’m an actor, I think I’m the best person for the job. And it’s one less person to cast, you know? Not that I don’t think I could have found someone that would have done a good job, but what was so cool about that film was it was such a collaborative process with my two producers, one of whom was also my editor, and the other one, she had gone to theater school. So she and I went through the acting beats and she was on set helping with that. And, you know, my DP, Justin Hamilton, I work with a lot, he and I went to high school together, which has been cool working together as adults. He was a year older than me and he was like the movie guy and there’s a lot of trust there. And he’s also an editor and thinks like a director in his own right. So being multi-hyphenate and then hiring people around you that are multi-hyphenate, you just see that it’s incredible to work that way.

Funding and Making Films As a Rookie

FF: OK, so for a director slash writer starting out, it can be super overwhelming when figuring out what road map to take. But it seems like the general path is to make a short film, and then go to festivals or put that film out there in some other way to either get representation or make a feature. From your perspective of having interviewed so many people, and from your own experience, do you see that as the best path? Or do you see other options that you think people should consider?

MA: That’s a good point to bring up because I do think that the narrative of “make short then make feature,” and like, “making a genius short is the only way to go” is reductive and limiting for people that don’t come from the means to be able to fund a short. I mean, for me, journalism was a huge path because it was like an education in film in a lot of ways. And also, I took a while before I made a short, and I think it was a number of things. I didn’t financially know how to raise money. It was before Kickstarter and Indiegogo were big because I moved to L.A. and graduated theater school in 2011. I wanted to learn screenwriting but I’d just graduated and didn’t have the money to pay for a course. So I started writing at a screenwriting website and through the process of journalism was learning about writing and interviewing people. You know, like this. 

I also think that the big thing is to find out what story you want to tell. Taking a step back and going, what are the stories I want to tell? What is my voice? And first, through any means possible, find a way to figure out what your voice says. 

Write every day if you can or as frequently as you can. I think that’s really important. And, you know, through being a journalist, that was something that allowed me to meet the people to even make the first short or to make anything because it can be really hard. And it depends on the type of filmmaker you are. If you’re a documentary filmmaker, you can pick up a camera. OK, so you need to go buy the camera, you know? So it’s like you work and not everybody wants to make something for no money. For my first short, I knew what I wanted to write and I knew I needed money. But I think that there are other ways. 

I think it’s starting with: what is the story I want to tell, spending the time where you’re saving money or you’re meeting your community, and then really letting the story tell you the path it needs to take. 

What is the story you want to tell? Because that’s going to define who you are as an artist. But I do have other friends who are DP’s or they’re other things — like my friend Josh, who’s an editor now and makes films, but he would volunteer at film festivals and started being involved in other people’s projects as a PA (Production Assistant). I do think that if you’re a writer/director and you’re producing someone else’s thing or you’re a crew member, and that film does well, that also gives you a leg up. I think that there are many roads to Mecca and making a short is great because it’s, you know, practice to make a feature. But I also know people that just write and then they keep getting better at writing. And then those scripts get made. And then someone’s like, do you want to direct one? I think there are many different paths. But definitely, the short to feature is, you know, a tried and true way to go about doing it.

FF: Speaking of fundraising, that’s obviously such a big hurdle to get over for your first, or even second, maybe even third film. Especially when you’re first starting out. I know you’ve crowdfunded for your first film and that was successful. Would you recommend crowdfunding, and again, are there other options you think beginning filmmakers could consider?

MA: Yeah, crowdfunding was great. To be honest, I didn’t know if I wanted to do it because then you’re accountable. Like, people give you money and then you have to make it, which is very scary. And that was the thing that actually then in turn convinced me to do it. So one of my friends is a publicist for Kickstarter, David Ninh, and we had this phone call. He was like, “doing a Kickstarter puts it out into the world that you are a filmmaker now. You know, people know you as a journalist but you’re also a filmmaker and it’s good to be held accountable.” And the cool thing about Kickstarter is if you don’t raise the full price you don’t get the money. There’s GoFundMe and others where maybe you’re trying to raise ten grand and even if you raise seven hundred, you keep seven hundred. But I was like, you know what, let’s go for this, shoot for the stars. And I wanted to raise ten grand. We ended up raising I think twelve, which is good because I wanted to raise a little bit more because they took a fee. And you build a community for your film before it even comes out. So I highly recommend that. It’s work. I think you’ve got to be willing to put in a lot of work. And the work is fun in a way because it helps you start thinking about the branding of your film, and helps you really focus on what the story is and why you’re making it in the first place. We shot a little video for it with my cast because they were in New York and we had become friends because I was trying forever to get this made. So we’d become friends in the process of waiting to get it made. And then I was like, how do I talk about this film? My brother helped me design a logo and I printed them on stickers and we launched the Kickstarter at Sundance. So I was handing people stickers and I would hand them to guys and say, “put them on bathroom doors”, you know, and two or three years later, I was on a panel or doing something and some woman was like, “I know who you are and I know about your movie.” And I said, how? And she was like, “I just remember the branding. I had the wings, what was it called?” And I said, Oh, my God, Interior Teresa. 

So, you know, it goes a long way to help you learn to brand and to really hone what the story is. And then you’ve got a built-in community of donors even before the movie comes out. But it’s hard and it takes work and it’s hard to ask people for money. 

But if you want to make movies, you got to learn how to ask people for money. That is the most important thing I’ll probably say in the interview, which sucks, but you got to learn. 

OK, so then my second film I got a full-time job in New York, which I’m very grateful for. And saved a lot of money. And it was hard because I was working really long hours and then trying to do journalism on the side and get a movie made on the side. But I just kept saving and it took years to save the money. But then that’s how I at least got the start to fund my next movie, and then had somebody else who had been a friend for a long time give us a little bit of money. But it really goes a long way if you’re like, “Hey, I’ve got thirteen thousand dollars.” And someone says, “Okay, well, let me come in and give you a few more grand,” than going, “I have no money,” and someone going, “let me give you a few grand,” because their few grand might not go anywhere because you don’t even have the leg up to start on. And even when you’re doing a Kickstarter, having someone, someone, even if it’s you, throwing a little money to jump start it, you know what I mean? Which I don’t know if I did for the Kickstarter, I think maybe my mom put in like three hundred dollars, you know, or something, which was nice and which was a lot for her. But anyway. I think that saving is really important, and I think that there is this feeling that we have to do it now and we’re running late, and I know I struggle with that a lot. I’m like, “oh my God, I haven’t made a feature yet.” I think I’ve kind of moved past that and kind of accepted as I’ve gotten older that everything happens when it’s supposed to happen. But I think when I was younger, in my 20s, I was like, I’m so behind. And then I just was like, well, I wanted to make my second film on my own terms. I did not want to talk about it in the open like you do with the Kickstarter. I wanted it to be private. And so then I was like, well, it might be a while before I can make that. I’m just going to have to work and save the money. 

But even if it takes you five years to save up the money to do it yourself, fine. You know, like there’s no need to rush. And then there’s just, like, amazing grant programs that can get you that leg up, especially in New York and Los Angeles-based companies, or even in Texas. There’s more and more support for marginalized people as well. And women grant programs. Again, it takes time and effort to write and apply to these things.

TIP: Check out Jamie Monahan’s article “Secrets of Successful Fundraising for Filmmaking” and Cindy Chu’s article, “WOC Filmmakers: Resources for Making Connections” for more fundraising and networking guidance!

You know, there’s Sundance Institute and stuff like that if you’re trying to get money and don’t have family and friends that are just sitting on a ton of cash, you know like some people have. And that’s really great for them. But if you don’t, you can get a stamp of approval from a grant or another institute, even if it’s a thousand dollars. Again, it gives you that jumpstart. Yeah. I mean, I could go on and on about different ways to find money. But, you know, I’m still learning. I’m not a genius producer. And those are the people that know where to get the money.

FF: I mean, that’s a great point. Like maybe you need to find a producer.

MA: Yeah, especially when you get into feature land. I think with shorts, finding producers is hard. I always have friends who are like “where do you find your producers?” Or “I’m looking for a producer.” For shorts, I think it’s hard to find a producer that’s going to find you money. Most of the time it’s like, “I want to support your project.” My first short, my friend Catherine, who’s also a filmmaker, produced it, and just having that support there to do logistics, and offer her creative brain, was great. And, you know, sometimes you can find producers that have resources that are going to bring money to shorts. But I think producers that are going to bring money are when you get in the feature game because they have the relationships with the investors. I’m just trying to think of specific examples. But this is the thing, I know about where people find money, but also that’s private and it’s a hard thing to talk about. I find in interviews when I’ve interviewed people, too, it’s like, where did you get your money? And like, certain people are transparent about that and certain people aren’t. You know? It’s a very — you just kind of jump in the deep end and figure out it’s different for everybody. But anyway, I’m going on a tangent.

Genre Filmmaking

FF: No, it’s all super useful. I’m really glad you’re touching on these things even if you don’t want to go into them. OK, let’s transition to talking about genre filmmaking.

MA: Cool.

FF: OK, so you’ve made Deep Tissue and Ride which you wrote and directed. And then you directed First Date, and now you’re writing at least one feature, and they’re all in the horror genre. And because I follow you on Instagram I know you and your family did this cute thing last October where you suggested a different horror movie for every day in October. So does this love of horror just go way back? Or what exactly got you-.

MA: What’s the catalyst?

FF: Yeah! Like what got you so into this genre?

MA: Yeah. My dad loved horror films. “Alloween.” I didn’t know anyone looked at that. So I love that you remember that. I mean my family grew up watching horror movies. My dad was the kind of guy who’d go to Blockbuster and watch every horror movie in the horror section. It didn’t matter if it was terrible. I remember walking through their bedroom and I’d just see the most horrific B movie VHS cover. And, you know, I was like, what are you doing Dad? My brother’s like that too, he has seen, like, every horror movie. It doesn’t even matter if it’s good or bad. And my cousin as well who’s a little bit older than I am and a writer and director himself. He had a Lost Boys poster in his room and I was like, what is this? So it was just around me all the time, and my family at Christmas always got each other movies. My grandpa loved Westerns, so I was raised in a very filmic family and it was something that connected us. It’s no surprise that all of the offspring have gone into the arts — my brother is an editor — because we were raised with an appreciation of movies that connect you. 

There’s nothing like sitting in a theater and all screaming together. I mean, laughing is the same. But a good horror movie can make you do both — or you scream and then you laugh. 

I remember I saw Hereditary in New Orleans at a film festival called Overlook, which is great. And I think it’s the only time in my life where I literally jumped out of my seat and screamed and then we were cracking up through the scene because we were like, this is so fun. Like I think that that’s something that I love about horror films. And I think it goes back to — you know, the theme being story here — like, I don’t set out — especially when I was making Deep Tissue. I was making a romance. I wasn’t like, “I’m going to make a horror film.” Then once we got into the score and figured out the way we were shooting it, then I was looking at a lot of 70s horror, because but I think that, again, it’s like what does the story need? And a lot of my stories lately, and I don’t know if it will be like this for the rest of my life, are horror-leaning. Also I think I process darkness. I remember our [playwriting] Professor, Gretchen, in college, we kept having to write scenes. And I kept writing scenes about love and strangers meeting and it was just like love, romance. And I said, “I’m so sorry. This is all I can write about.” She was like “don’t ever apologize for that.” There are writers that write about the same thing over and over and over again. Look at Scorsese. Scorsese makes films about New Yorkers, you know, and other things. But like no one has ever been like, “man, I wish Scorsese wouldn’t make another mob movie.” We’re like, “please keep doing you,” you know? My first film, Interior Teresa, was not a horror film. It had magical realism, but it was about religion. And that’s been a theme I’ve noticed, especially lately now that I’m, you know, formulating ideas on my fifth or sixth feature. Yeah, it’s been a lot of writing in the last two years. It’s still about religion. I think that religion and spirituality are also something we see a lot in horror, because horror deals with life and death, it deals with spirits and demons. It deals with — I mean, a lot of the stories from the Bible are horrific. And even if you’re not looking at the Bible, I just think spirituality is something that’s fascinating to me, that I’m still working through being from Texas. And I really am fascinated by why people do things. The feature that I am in the process of casting now is very much more of a psychological descent film with horror elements. And then I wrote this erotic thriller set in Vegas and erotic thrillers have sort of horror elements to them. I just think horror’s fun and you can kind of throw in laughs and you can throw in screams and everything.

FF: As you said, you’re writing so many horror films because that’s what the stories lend to and that’s what you love and that’s what works for you. Do you also see some strategy in continuing to specialize in a specific genre?

MA: Yeah, I think when Deep Tissue came out it was in the right time and place where people were actively looking for women's stories in ways that they hadn’t been before. I mean, horror has been dominated by men. You know, let’s be honest. The whole film industry has been dominated by men, like many other industries. And I think it was the right time and place, that people are looking for erotic thrillers. People are looking for horror from female perspectives. And, you know, Claire Denis and Karyn Kusama, and even Julia Ducournau that did that film Raw, there have been so many women that I mean — Kathryn Bigelow’s film, Near Dark, which is genius, is a horror film. It’s with Bill Paxton, it’s a vampire movie. Watch it. It’s great. But she started in horror. And you see how even though she’s done films about war, they’re all kind of similar, war is horrific. So I don’t know that it’s necessarily a strategy. I think that being someone that specializes in something is always a benefit. 

I would love to be one of the filmmakers that make things across genres or even that has my own kind of genre.

Like I love Yorgos Lanthimos, who just like makes Yorgos Lanthimos movies that are kind of genre leaning, but sometimes they’re not. Dogtooth, which I find to be hilarious and was a huge influence on Deep Tissue, has dark, dark, dark humor, but also horror elements. And then The Favourite is a comedy, but also a dark comedy. You can kind of work across the genres. Tarantino is someone that has their own vibe. I keep bringing up Claire Denis, but I love her. She does as well. But yeah, I don’t know that it’s necessarily a strategy, but I definitely think it helps to find your voice. I think that’s what I’m trying to get at. What is your voice? And I guess my voice right now is in this sort of horror-thriller landscape and that especially when you’re starting out, people don’t know what your voice is, or what you’re saying. Why are they going to go to you? We need to go to her because this is like her thing or we need to go to him because, like, this is her thing, his thing. 

At a certain point, you want to transcend the boundaries. But early on, I do think it helps to be knowledgeable about that certain subject. 

If they’re remaking a film and they’re like, we’re looking for horror writers, you know, or drama writers, then my manager can say, “Hey, here’s Meredith, she has multiple scripts in this genre” and you’re more likely to get a job. You know, if you have more scripts in that genre, whether it’s comedy or drama or whatever, if you have a script in all the different elements, that can also be helpful, too. But I don’t think it’s a strategy as much as it’s finding what your voice is. And anyone that has a voice goes far. A voice that has something to say that’s good. I don’t want to say “everyone” that has a voice because there are people that have a voice that could be evil. I don’t know, you know what I’m saying.

Writing Advice

FF: Is there anything else you want to say or talk about?

MA: Yeah, I wanted to talk a little bit about writing, because I think when you’re starting out it can be really hard to write stuff on spec because no one is paying you to do it. And it takes a lot of time to write. And this has been a year of a lot of writing on my own time during quarantine. And you have to find ways to stay motivated. 

And at the end of the day, it’s something about viewing what I’m writing as a way to process my questions about the world that keeps me going. 

I’ve never written a script that wasn’t related to some deep emotional place in me. I always say write from your gut. And that is exhausting. There was a night where I was working on my feature that we’re now casting. This was before the pandemic. And I was in early drafts and it’s dark. And I think being an actor, when I’m writing I sort of get into the minds of these characters sometimes, like through how I approach acting, like why is this character doing something, and kind of embody it as I’m writing it? And I went dark, you know, and texted my brother. I love writing in hotels. So I was like, “I’m going to stay at the hotel. I’m just going to finish the script tonight.” And he was like, “you sound crazy, leave.” You know? And I think that he always — and I love my brother for keeping me accountable. It can be really scary when you’re doing something on your own, whether you’re writing, or preparing for a role. And I think you have to have boundaries, but you also have to stay motivated. I do think it’s about staying motivated but having boundaries for yourself and letting yourself go to those dark places or those fun places or focus on whatever it is, and come out of it. 

So find things to write about that truly are fascinating questions to you. 

You know, going into a script and being like, “what do I want to understand better through the process of doing this? Who am I writing this for?” And sometimes if it’s just for you, that’s OK. I think when you get into the later stages after you’ve written it, go, who is this going to speak to? But I think my favorite literature or films are very personal to the director. You see the director coming through it because it’s important to them. You know, I think I’m that person. And I read this great book called On Writing by Stephen King. I read that a few years ago, and there were two things that really changed my life. One of them is the chapter — he spends a lot of the first part of the book talking about his life. And I believe he was working at a laundromat or something and he was married and I believe they had kids at this point. And they were really struggling financially and he wrote Carrie. And then it got picked up by a publisher and of course, became Carrie. And he made more money than he even knew was possible. And I just remember reading that on a plane and crying because I was like, oh, my God, so many writers for so long spend so much time putting in the time and effort. And, you know, the artist struggle is real because it takes time, time that you could be spent making money! Or more money. But you got to put in the time. But when I saw that, I was like, man, this gives me hope. You know, if Stephen King can come from that and just look at him, he’s prolific. The other thing I really loved was he’s a writer — and not every writer is like this — that only writes like two to three hours a day. And then he’ll edit, you know but I was like, oh, I can do that? 

One of the biggest enemies of creatives is the expectation that we put on ourselves. 

If you sit down and you’re like, “I’m just spending this whole day writing” you’re not going to do it because it’s too overwhelming. For me, I love writing with a beverage because with the time it takes to have a meal or a beverage like great, I’ve got about an hour or two of writing, and then sometimes that’s all I do in a day. And obviously hearing that from someone who’s one of the most prolific writers that we know of, Stephen King, that’s been so great for me because I think it’s awesome to go to a coffee shop, write for three hours a day and it’s exhausting.

Interview has been edited for clarity. 

Follow Meredith Alloway on Instagram and learn more about her on her website. 

If there are other questions you want to be answered in a blog post, let us know at info@fourwindfilms.com or visit our website at www.fourwindfilms.com. Also, we work with a large, diverse community of crew and artists working in most aspects of the filmmaking process and are always happy to help make connections. And we are always building our community! Send us your work for review or feedback.

The Kids are in the Picture, Part 1: Casting

By Elizabeth Chatelain

Tom (Jefferson White) and Rowan (Payson Jane) on the set of Paper Geese. Photo by Abby Hanson.

The other day I was speaking with a colleague and they asked me if there were any themes that ran throughout the films I’ve made. It dawned on me that almost every short film I’ve written has children in it. They are of various ages, but I realized I am drawn to stories of childhood and the relationship children have with parents and their siblings. 

The first, Karin’s shoes, is set in Texas in the 1950s. It is based on a story that my mom told me about the only time she was ever hit with a belt as a child. The second, Breathe Under Water, is about a young boy and his mother, and his experience with nearly drowning. The next, Jenny and Steph, revolves around two sisters, the eldest a teenager trying to fit in by having a house party, and in the process introduces her younger sister to drugs. Sundogs follows a single mother and her 4-year-old daughter in the oilfields of North Dakota. And most recently, the leading role of Paper Geese is a nine-year-old girl, Rowan.

I really love working with children on a film. They are spontaneous and full of energy, and I have again and again been dumbfounded by their ability to grasp what I’m asking of them at an emotional and intellectual level. Working with kids has its challenges, but it’s also very rewarding. 

This article will be written in two parts, the first focusing on how I approach casting children, and the second about directing them during production. I write only from my own experiences, not any proven method, but I hope these thoughts can be helpful.

Casting children can be a challenge. There are more than a few methods, and I usually utilize a combination of them. First, of course, you can hire a casting agent, which I did for Jenny and Steph – this is especially helpful if the kids are a little older, ages 12-18, and if you are in a film production hub such as New York, Los Angeles, Atlanta, or Austin. At the time we were casting for Jenny and Steph, I was based in Austin, so kids came from the other large cities as well: Houston and Dallas. We were able to find many amazing young actors and a few who really fit the parts exactly. 

There is also another method, especially helpful if you are casting outside an urban area: a public casting call. Put a call with the location, date, and a little blurb about the film out to the local newspapers. Notify schools, after-school programs, children’s theaters, etc. This was a process used when I assisted casting on one of my mentor’s films, Hellion. We traveled to the small community of Port Arthur, Texas, and had a whole day of kids coming in to audition. These kids are not necessarily actors, but those who are simply interested, curious. It is surprising how often you can find potential through this process. Often child actors have been overtrained and do what is termed “indicating”- using an artificial expression to get the emotion across. They usually read very inauthentically on film. So there are times where an untrained kid will end up being the best for the role. For Sundogs, I had specially written the film with my niece in mind, knowing she would be cast as the 4-year-old daughter. For Paper Geese we did an open casting call, contacting teachers and acting agencies in Fargo because I knew I wanted to shoot on location there and I also wanted a girl whose roots are in North Dakota.

So how is an audition different for a child than for an adult? It is usually a combination of reading from a written script and improvisation, depending on how young they are. With children under 8 or so, I usually don’t focus on a script or have one at all. With younger children, you might play a game with them. Or improvise a scene they can relate to. What you are looking for is the ability to listen and engage while the other actor is talking to them, and that they give thoughtful responses. You’re looking for imagination and connection. They should also show some flexibility when you ask them to think about something differently. The directing tool, “do this as if…” is something that is used for both adults and children. I’ve also utilized acting exercises with them. For Paper Geese, I acted as though I was the father character, and I instructed the girl to do anything she could to get me from hurting an animal. Another thing to be aware of is physical quirks. If the child doesn’t make eye contact, if they do something nervously, it can be hard to create the space to make that child comfortable enough to change that behavior once on set. 

I also always meet with the family. Because children will be with their parents on set, you have to also gauge what that dynamic will be like. It can make a big difference working with families that have been in films before and know the expectations, versus families that have never been on any sort of set.

Of course, each director and casting process is unique, and characters’ personalities can vary widely. Just think about what you are looking for, and how you can best discover that in a child. Once the casting part is over, you’ll shift your focus to rehearsals and production. Working with kids on set will be in Part 2.  

Elizabeth Chatelain is an award-winning writer and director from North Dakota. Her feature screenplay SUNDOGS participated in the Berlinale Script Station, the Hedgebrook Screenwriter’s Lab, and was an Academy Nicholl Fellowship Semi-Finalist, Atlanta Film Festival Screenplay Competition Winner, and Showtime Tony Cox Screenplay Competition Winner. Follow Elizabeth on Instagram @emchatelain and at her website, elizabethchatelain.com.

If there are other questions you want to be answered in a blog post, let us know at info@fourwindfilms.com or visit our website at www.fourwindfilms.com. Also, we work with a large, diverse community of crew and artists working in most aspects of the filmmaking process and are always happy to help make connections. And we are always building our community! Send us your work for review or feedback.

10 Reasons Why You Need a Fantastic First Assistant Director

By Jessica W. Chen

Kate Branom in action as the 1st AD (https://www.katebranom.com/) on the set of Prologue. Photo by Daria Huxley.

The First Assistant Director or 1st AD is a film role that is super important, but many people don’t quite know all that they’re responsible for during production. While the name may lead some to believe that 1st AD’s direct, in reality, the 1st AD handles the logistics of the shoot by acting as the bridge between the director, department heads, and the crew. Executed well, these 1st AD duties free the director to focus on the more creative aspects of the production.

After observing the 1st AD on the set of my show Drama High and performing 1st AD duties myself, it was clear to me that a good 1st AD is indispensable to a smooth film shoot. Here are some reasons why you need an amazing 1st AD:

1. They plan the film schedule

While the 1st AD may not determine what days you shoot, they do plan what scenes can be reasonably shot each day and come up with a film schedule. A good 1st AD considers what time of day each scene needs to be shot at, and which locations are close to each other to reduce travel time between sets. Needless to say, if your 1st AD does their job right, then their film schedule sets you up for an untroubled shoot, saves your production time and money, and informs the team what to expect each day.

2. They break down scripts

Once the screenwriter turns in the final version of the script, the 1st AD works on the script breakdown, which notes what characters, props, costumes, and sound effects are in each scene. By having these elements clearly stated in the breakdown, the department heads know what they need to procure for each scene without having to reread the script and pick out which parts pertain to them. Thus, a wonderful 1st AD needs to possess both a keen eye for detail and knowledge of the production process.

3. They send out call sheets

Often sent out the night before, call sheets let the cast and crew know when they’re expected on set, and contain other important details, such as cast and crew contact information, weather forecasts, sunrise and sunset times, mealtimes, and even the nearest hospital location. And, guess who assembles all this crucial production information? The 1st AD.

Because call sheets include so much information that’s subject to change, don’t be surprised if your 1st AD continually asks you to confirm details — it just means they’re doing their job and compiling the latest and most accurate information for your team.

4. They maintain shot lists

Often created by the director and the director of photography (DP), shot lists detail each shot that the director and DP hope to get during the shoot. While on set, the shot list is often handed to the 1st AD, who then keeps track of which shots are done, which takes are the director’s favorites, and other helpful production notes. Again, having a keen eye for detail is important because a well-maintained shot list helps ensure no shots are missing and saves the director and editor time when going through footage during post-production.

5. They keep the production on schedule

When filming with natural lighting, daylight is everything. If you need to get a certain amount of scenes in before dark, having an efficient shoot is pivotal. And, the person who helps ensure that the production keeps moving is the 1st AD, whose job includes reminding the director of the shoot’s progress and how much time the team has to complete a scene.

Additionally, 1st AD’s are a much-needed extra set of eyes on set. While the director works with department heads or focuses on getting the best performance out of the cast, the 1st AD may remind other crew members what they could be doing in preparation or gently suggest cast members rehearse during downtime, so everyone’s set when the cameras are ready to roll.

6. They communicate with the cast and crew

A lot of communication on set goes through the 1st AD. If a cast or crew member is confused over what’s going on on set, they will often ask the 1st AD, rather than approach the director. Because of this arrangement, the 1st AD is also often crucial to keeping morale up on set because a testy 1st AD will be felt by everyone working that day, which may influence how everyone else approaches their jobs.

7. They solve unexpected problems

If you’ve worked on productions before, you know that crews are often over-prepared because what may go wrong often will go wrong. When a problem arises on set, it’s the 1st AD’s job to think on their feet and come up with a solution that saves the production as much time and money as possible.

For instance, if a location cancels at the last minute, the 1st AD may consider reordering the film schedule so the production can still move forward while giving producers time to find a replacement location. Similarly, if the production is running out of daylight, the 1st AD may suggest which scenes the team should shoot next with the limited time left.

8. They call the roll and perform the slate

Perhaps the most significant of the 1st AD’s duties is to call the roll and perform the slate. Calling the role refers to voicing cues that notify department heads that filming is about to start.

These cues may include:

• Quieting everyone on set

• Tracking which departments the team is waiting on

• Asking for final checks on hair, makeup, and wardrobe

• Signaling the sound and camera department to start rolling

Performing the slate involves announcing which scene and take are about to be filmed, and using a clapperboard to create a sharp sound that the editor and sound mixer use to sync video and audio during post-production. Both calling the roll and performing the slate help keep the production team on track, and when done right, also helps post-production teams better accomplish their jobs.

9. They keep the production safe

Moreover, the 1st AD is responsible for making sure the set is safe. These safety precautions may include letting the cast and crew know how best to evacuate a set in case of fire, or coming up with safer alternatives if a department head puts forth a risky suggestion. A good 1st AD predicts how a situation may go south, and preemptively prevents the team from endangering themselves.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, some health and safety concerns may also be shared with the COVID-19 compliance officer. However, it’s ultimately still the 1st AD’s role to maintain a safe workplace for everyone.

10. They mediate conflicts

Film crews often involve getting a large group of people to work in close quarters during high-pressure situations. Because of this, differences of opinion or personality clashes may explode on set. These conflicts not only slow productions, but they also poison the morale on set, which is why it’s essential for 1st AD’s to deescalate these situations and resolve differences so the production can move forward.

At the end of the day, when looking for a 1st AD, you need someone who’s hyper-organized, quick on their feet, and able to transition between being the conciliatory and firm voice on set. Once you find someone with the perfect mix of these traits, you’ll see an immediate difference in how your sets are run, and never take an amazing 1st AD for granted again.

Find out more about Jessica W. Chen and her work at her website. Or, follow Jess on Instagram, Facebook, and Youtube.

If there are other questions you want to be answered in a blog post, let us know at info@fourwindfilms.com or visit our website at www.fourwindfilms.com. Also, we work with a large, diverse community of crew and artists working in most aspects of the filmmaking process and are always happy to help make connections. And we are always building our community! Send us your work for review or feedback.

How Wearing Many Hats Led Me to the Director’s Chair

By Cat Tassini

Photo by Albany Capture on Unsplash

“If you can think of literally anything else to do with your life, go do that.” This was the mantra that I heard many times during my first year of acting training. “You have to be obsessed with your character,” was another slogan, this time from my contemporary scene study teacher. As a nervous freshman in college, I took these words literally. Growing up, I had been enthusiastic about visual art, dance, theater, filmmaking, writing, music, and sports, but now I turned with laser-like focus to acting. Any time another desire entered my head, I felt agonizingly conflicted. I had auditioned and secured my place in the second most competitive undergraduate theater program in the country. Was I going to blow this opportunity by being unfocused and undisciplined? I was determined to give it my best shot. But I couldn’t keep all of my doubts — or passions — from creeping in.

I stuck it out for the two consecutive years at a professional acting studio required to graduate. However, once I had that under my belt I looked into other opportunities for learning. I ended up interning at a multidisciplinary art space in Brooklyn for credit. That was my introduction to the North Brooklyn DIY music and art scene, which indelibly molded my artistic perspective. It’s where I truly came of age. It felt like I had wandered into a creative wonderland—inspired, intimidated, and elated that I finally found a place that felt right. I even put up my own theater piece there, composing it with my theater troupe, and doing the sound, costume, and set design myself. It felt like I had arrived. 

Photo by KASHILEMBO WABU on Unsplash

My time interning opened up my mind and I felt confident enough to keep exploring. By graduation, I had designed costumes for a short film, taken art direction and set design classes, studied directing and producing, interned for a special event production company, stage-managed a show, attained a minor in art history, studied abroad, and put up multiple original theater pieces. 

Photo by Isi Parente on Unsplash

However, once the anticlimactic reality of postgraduate life set in, I looked back on my many experiences and wondered whether they actually added up to anything cohesive and meaningful. It didn’t help that I graduated into the 2010 job market. It was easy to feel like all the effort I’d put into my undergraduate education didn’t amount to much of anything in the real world. As I wandered through postcollegiate disorientation, hopping from city to city, and trying out different jobs in and out of the entertainment industry, I felt weighed down by nagging doubts. Would I ever be good enough at anything if I couldn’t concentrate on one thing? Would I ever be able to support myself without a “day job?” Would I ever be able to get a day job outside of the service industry? I felt restless, but I still felt guilty about it.

These doubts still haunt me, but less so than when I was a bit younger and greener. I now have the knowledge and perspective of someone who has written, directed, and edited a body of work, screened short films at festivals and racked up years of experience working in film, television, and event production. What I didn’t realize before is that it’s common to bounce from department to department or take time off from one career to pursue another.  It is also totally okay to take time off from filmmaking because you need to work a day job, care for a child or sick loved one, or take care of your own health. In a field as unstable and full of financial barriers as filmmaking, changes are inevitable. Managing your passion for your craft with real-world demands is a balancing act. As circumstances and priorities change, a career will inevitably go through any number of evolutions.

Multimedia is a constantly changing field, and one must make a conscious effort to keep up throughout one’s career. Along with that learning comes paying for classes, trading something you already know and are adept at, and learning on the job. If you’re trying to work your way up starting as a production assistant, it’s great to have multiple skillsets since you never know quite what you’ll end up doing. It is also valuable to have lots of skills in your back pocket to offer in exchange for someone else teaching you the skills you lack. A mentor of mine once described trading art direction work for an After Effects lesson. Finally, there is the practical reality that until you are locked into a union, if that’s the path you choose, it can be easier to get freelance work when there are more roles you can fill.

Photo by Julio Rionaldo on Unsplash

Now that I am directing my first feature, I can see how my varied experience has prepared me for this. It’s essential to be able to wear multiple hats in independent filmmaking. On a typical day, when working on my own work and freelance projects, I utilize some combination of the following: social media, graphic design, grant writing, crowdfunding, blogging, research, correspondence, scheduling, and video editing. These involve wildly different yet interconnected skill sets. On set, I’ve worked in the following departments: camera, sound, art, locations, wardrobe, makeup, transportation, and of course good ol’ fashioned general production assistance (PA). Having many tools in your toolbelt and a spirit of adventure makes you an asset to any production. 

If there’s one thing I could tell my younger filmmaker self, I would say: don’t be afraid of having multiple interests. Embrace it! And don’t worry so much. Pursue knowledge for the pure love of learning, don’t try to force yourself into something because of its perceived market value. Something that you’re not sure about now could end up being one of your greatest assets in the future. “Follow your bliss,” as Joseph Campbell would say, and try not to be too preoccupied with how it will all turn out. Life doesn’t follow a linear path and that’s okay. Real life isn’t compressed into two hours and doesn’t have to follow the audience’s expectations for continuity of logic. Real life is messy and strange and beautiful in its own way.

Follow Cat Tassini on Instagram @disco_nap_art and check out her website. Follow her current project, a feature-length documentary about Trish Keenan, the visionary creative force behind the English experimental band Broadcast, on Instagram @echos_answer, Facebook, and Youtube. 

If there are questions you want to be answered in a blog post, let us know at info@fourwindfilms.com or visit our website. Also, we work with a large, diverse community of crew and artists working in most aspects of the filmmaking process and are always happy to help make connections. And we are always building our community! Send us your work for review or feedback.