Side Hustle
A new friend came up to me after a screening and Q&A recently for my first short as a director, Side Hustle. “I realized that you’re completely honest, in a way that must be deeply painful to you.”
My brain immediately went to an answer I had just given to an audience question. A young woman asked, “Did you always want to direct or did casting work inspire you to direct?” My response was immediate: “I always knew I wanted to direct but my self-worth was in the gutter. So, I had to work on that most of all.”
She gave that answer some very enthusiastic snaps, as did others in the audience. I thought, oh yeah, a lot of people feel that — especially those of us who were socialized as girls or grew up as outsiders – but no one says it out loud. It’s an embarrassing thing to say because you also hate that you’ve hated yourself, and you don’t want people to smell weakness. Acknowledging it could be dangerous; will anyone trust you to keep making work if you admit there was a time when you didn’t trust yourself?
I spoke to a college class recently and fielded a related question from another young woman: “How did you build your confidence enough to direct for the first time?” I paused before giving the most honest answer I could: therapy, putting myself on sets in roles where I’d be near the director, casting, working with people on performance through auditions, and performance support on sets where the pressure wasn’t all on me. Basically, therapy and experience in the industry. After the class I cried. Her question was so earnest and practical and fucking sad. Why don’t we teach about this?
Filmmaker Magazine has graciously allowed me to write an article about Side Hustle, and I want it to be useful for aspiring filmmakers. I want to share practical tools that I used in the making of this film that will apply to both people needing the courage and those who are ready to direct. I feel like it’s necessary, even urgent, to open it in this way, because the most important tool I needed to make my short was not a discounted camera package or the perfect lens — it was figuring out how to believe in myself. Confidence comes easiest to those with access and privilege, and if we aren’t encouraging promising, introspective people to find it in themselves, the industry won’t be as diverse in concept, idea and approach as it deserves.
The path to find one’s confidence won’t be the same for everyone, and the main advice I have is that investing in your mental health is just as valuable as saving or crowdfunding for your first short — no matter your financial background, figure out a way to do this. If you ignore your wellbeing you ignore your potential, and the only alternative leads to a life of embittered resentment. Don’t let it get that far; if the urge to create doesn’t leave you, you will make it. Not making it will get so unbearable that you must.
On a happier note, I feel so much release and relief finally letting my first project into the world. My urge to make things expands exponentially every day, because I confirmed within myself what I’m capable of. The ecstasy I felt on set cannot be contained, and my belief in myself was right. I encourage any of you struggling to make your first project to keep going and give yourself the space and grace to find your voice. Be kind to yourself. Filmmaking is always hard, but the first one feels hardest. Once you get your first project out of the way you’ll know whether this is really your thing.
Here are some more tips:
CREW OTHER FILMS / WORK OTHER INDUSTRY JOBS – LEARN + FIND YOUR PEOPLE
Unless you have financial support from someone, you’ll have to be working to make a living while you’re figuring out how to make your films. I think it’s invaluable to be working in the industry in really any role — both to learn while you’re earning a living, and because there will be other people working either on that set or in that office who want to be making films too. You’ll get to know them intimately and discover whether you have shared taste, dreams, and ways of working. This is a great way to build your friendships and team of collaborators, especially on sets, which are not normal work environments but pressurized stress cookers. Witnessing how others act in a stress cooker is good — is how they behave something you can respond to or work with? I met Side Hustle’s producer Maggie Ambrose on the set of a very challenging feature, and her calm, expert problem solving, work ethic and moral compass were all a beacon of light to my moth brain. I would trust her to be my trench buddy in a war if I had to. I also met Jane Schoenbrun through working at a film non-profit together that was then called IFP (now The Gotham). We became friends, and when they pivoted to writing and directing, I had already been working in casting. Their first feature ended up being my first feature as a casting director. I cast both of their features, and they EP-ed my short. That would have never come together without us doing other work together years before. Of course, neither of us knew that our paths would go there, but friendship and shared interests made us great collaborators. Close friends made up the majority of the other department heads for Side Hustle too.
Crewing on other stuff also built my confidence — I was constantly putting myself in situations to try new things, without the pressure of being the ultimate decision maker; challenging jobs that would ultimately be invisible to most people watching the film. I learned how to follow my instincts and use my voice when appropriate. If something wasn’t working in a performance, I built up the courage to respectfully say something even if I didn’t know how to fix it, because I was being asked for my opinion. I’d see what someone did with that feedback. I learned how to form ideas based on gut reactions, trust them, and communicate them.
Seeing how decisions get made by different people is so eye opening. For me it cut out the illusion that the greats knew (or know) exactly what they’re doing at every given moment, and freed my brain to be okay with making mistakes along the way as an important part of the process.
INSPIRATION / RESEARCH – DO THE GROUNDWORK
If you’re writing something that’s not based on your own experience and there are people you can talk to who do have experience in that world, seek them out and talk to them. Without interviewing sugar babies and sex workers for this film, I would have never known that most sugar babies sleep with their clients. I wouldn’t have known the specific terminology around payment for sugar babies: “gift” or “allowance” to keep up the illusion for sugar daddies that they’re spoiling someone they’re dating. I wouldn’t have heard so many funny or interesting little details, like that many middle-aged men want to have sex for 15 minutes and then ramble about WWII the rest of the night. I wouldn’t have understood the complex power dynamics of a new client versus a regular. Writing based on other films or TV is what leads to stereotypes.
CASTING AS WRITING – BE OPEN TO MAGIC
As you might have gathered, I have a background in casting. I started in discovery and street casting and now work with performers of all experience levels. Actors and performance are a key element in what I find interesting about a film. If it’s a little messy technically but centers a stellar performance, that will grab me over something that is just glossy imagery any day. I feel that this is a major point that a lot of early career low budget filmmakers miss: they know they want to make the film look good, but miss the core of it all. If you don’t have much money, I don’t think you should focus on how to make the film look more expensive. Find performers who want to make magic with you, who feel like magic to you. Easier said than done, but finding great collaborators yourself is free. Finding great collaborators who make you feel free enough to be yourself (and vis-versa) is priceless. This synergy is what brings a piece to the next level.
This being my perspective, I knew that casting and performance would be the compass that guided our approach to every element of the film.
People often assume that the goal of casting is finding the perfect square to fit in your perfect square box — that if someone is performing really well as a character then it was because they could fit perfectly in the box. That can happen, but I think it’s more valuable to see the box as one built with wispy, suggestive lines. What you’re looking for can be quite specific, but to ignore incredible people you come across who don’t perfectly fit your imagination would be a shame. This requires some flexibility in your writing.
I think Savanah Leaf did this brilliantly with her feature film Earth Mama, which I cast with two of my close collaborators, Geraldine Baron and Salome Oggenfuss. For example, there were some characters who were written as neighborhood corner dudes who catcall the main character and her friend. While scouting in Oakland we met a couple of young men who ended up telling us about their stories growing up in the foster care system after we told them what the film was about: a young pregnant woman who is having to navigate the system as a mom. We cast them in the corner dude roles in the film, and they catcalled, but their foster care stories were also adapted by Savanah into the script. This brought a whole other layer to those characters without taking away from the main character’s story. In fact, I felt that it only deepened hers too and created a strong sense of community in the film. Bravo, Savanah!
For Side Hustle, I ended up crafting the story around the two very special leads I met. Having the writing be in tune with who your performers are can be a very rewarding process. It can be about incorporating their real story, like Savanah did with Earth Mamae, or it can be about recognizing someone’s inherent strengths and building a character that compsliments those. For the latter, the dialogue in my head goes something like: “Wow, I’m really drawn to this person. What is it that’s drawing me to them? Ah, it’s X. X would be really interesting in a character who’s more like this versus what I had initially written.”
For example, I had initially written the sugar daddy role as someone who was a little more alpha, talking at the sugar baby and not very self-reflective. When I met Sean Edward Lewis, who plays that role, he had a natural vulnerability and sensitivity that was very moving to me. I could tell without even seeing him perform that he could access this quite quickly, and I was very drawn to that. To me, that leant itself in a really interesting way to someone who is maybe more awkward, a shy guy who has trouble finding intimacy through more socially acceptable means. I cast Sean and slightly rewrote the role to fit better with that kind of a character.
Meeting the lead, Eden Martinovsky, was such a gift. (You can read more here about that story if you’re interested.) The most succinct way I can describe her is my id. But more importantly for casting, she is truly a star. Her creativity spills out of her — being creative is what she must do. By nature she’s a shock comic, sometimes bordering on grotesque but effortlessly sexy at the same time. It’s a wild, beautiful, genius combination. She didn’t have much of an interest in acting at the time, but once we started to know each other our bond was so undeniable that it felt impossible for the two of us not to work together. I think a connection this strong between director and talent is probably quite rare, so I feel grateful every day that we have it. I built the character around her in a lot of ways, and a lot of the videos are pulled from pre-existing things she had made before we made the film. Yet she’s performing in the film too. She’s remarkable.
You don’t necessarily have to adjust writing to talent, but if you find that someone in particular keeps popping into your brain who doesn’t quite fit with the role as you imagined, there’s probably a reason why. Follow it.
WORKING WITH ACTORS – BUILD TRUST, COMMUNICATE
I wanted Eden, Sean and I to meet up casually at first, to start to build that trust the same way you would as friends. We grabbed a drink together, and their chemistry blew my mind. I saw scenes from the film unfolding in front of me. They were so unexpectedly funny together, too; we all made each other laugh so much my face hurt. Something was brewing with them, and I thought I should focus on harnessing it and crafting the narrative partly around it. We had a limited window, but I knew we should spend time both hanging out (specifically with no work agenda) and have rehearsals that would involve focused scene work/blocking ideas and building their intimate chemistry together. The combination built a lot of trust between us all. I recommend prioritizing low-pressure hangs as much as rehearsal to free your brains to be yourselves around each other. A trusting bond is powerful for a director/performer relationship, it helps everyone know they’re in safe hands.
A film about a sensitive topic that involves some intimacy is not an easy situation to put a non-actor in. I’ve learned from a lot of experience that building care and trust over time through open lines of communication and safe spaces to speak up is the best way for everyone to both feel good about their experience and to give their best performance. Boundaries are good, they allow people to feel safe enough to be sexy. Consent is sexy!
I had a lot of conversations with Eden and Sean in the beginning about boundaries, making it clear that it is actually good to say no if that’s what they needed because I would never, ever want to put someone through something that they are not comfortable doing. Give your actors agency in these situations. Pushing through something that’s challenging is different from feeling unsafe. I continued to check in throughout the process of rehearsals and filming to make sure that everyone was still on the same page. Keeping communication consistent is key.
We built intimacy between the characters through some activities I made up. You can make anything up yourself! I do it all the time for auditions. It’s how I’ve built some shorthand tools for myself that seem to help people drop into scenes more easily.
For this, I wanted the sugar daddy to be a regular client, so the characters had to have some kind of intimate history, but the idea was also that the characters hadn’t seen each other in a while due to the sugar daddy’s business troubles. I wanted the freshness and anticipation of a reunion after the relationship’s pause, but with their history also palpable. The way I thought made sense to do this was to not allow Eden and Sean to kiss until we filmed it, and in the meantime my goal was to slowly get them comfortable with each other through small gestures of physical touch and having them build the story of their characters’ relationship in their own heads, together.
It might look like this, moving slowly: “Look each other in the eyes. Move your hands to face each other palm-to-palm, but do not touch. Feel the energy and presence of the other person’s hand close to yours. Do not break your gaze [let them sit in that for several moments]. Now, touch your thumbs to each other. Now just your pointer fingers” etc. until you go back and have all their fingers touching. Then their whole hand palm to palm. Then slowly have them interlock fingers and hold hands.
There were other prompts that were more about the psychological intimacy of a relationship, also. I had them tell each other secrets with only their eyes, no words. These activities were for me, too; I would observe what came out of each of these activities, note which ones struck me emotionally, and think about where the feeling of the effective ones could land in the film.
And these activities built a language between me and the actors. When I was on set I could recall to moments from rehearsal. “Remember X activity? Let’s do that again.” That allowed me to drop them into exactly the kind of feeling I was looking for very quickly. If I came up with an idea mid-take, our sound mixer Darius Green was generous enough to let me speak quietly during takes as well, and I had the trust of the actors to direct them into moments in real time. When they were staring at each other post-kiss during a take, I had the idea that Sean should try and rest his head on Eden’s chest like a child. I felt that he needed that kind of care, even though he was too tall to do that action comfortably, which was kind of funny and sweet. Mostly I tried to stay quiet but directing in the moment can be an effective tool if not overused.
I made up some new prompts in the moment between some of the quicker shot setups to keep them engaged and present instead of getting lost in their own thoughts. On their own, they started to communicate to each other between setups in the same energy as the scene. It allowed them to stay present and ready for takes, which was great for both performance and for moving at the quick pace we needed for a tightly scheduled couple of days.
CINEMATOGRAPHY – FINDING AN APPROACH
Part of where I felt on shakiest ground was with cinematography. I felt good about talking about film language and the look I was going for, but I didn’t necessarily know how complicated it was to achieve what I was asking for, didn’t have a short hand for how to get there, and was not super well-versed in equipment. I found a stellar collaborator in Shannon Palmer, because she made me feel that the skills I did have were ideal anyhow – the other stuff was her job and we just needed to figure out what we were going for together. Her experience was in both fiction and doc, so the blended approach we were taking to the style of shooting was a great fit. I encourage you to find someone who helps you be yourself and encourages you to let your natural abilities shine. Find an approach together that works for the style of film you want to make.
I wanted to be really mobile on set to allow for us to capture unplanned things that might come up in the midst of shooting “doc style.” Because of this I didn’t want to have any sticks at all. I love still films, but for this, getting locked up in tripods would have limited our actors, and I wanted them to feel free.
We ended up using an easy rig for the whole shoot, which lands physically and creatively somewhere between handheld and steady cam. Shannon was so skilled with this tool, working through physically demanding long takes. It takes an operator with a steady, strong body and mind to shoot in the way that we did. The athleticism involved is under-discussed.
Shannon also offered for us to use the comms set she owns, which is basically a hands-free walkie talkie. It’s what you might see a football coach wearing: the headphones and mic in one. She had used these in the past on docs to be able to communicate with a director in the moment about a shot — you can whisper into her ear from across the room, essentially. They were an incredible tool for us. Shannon, the 1st AC Nicole Lehrman, and I all had a set while filming. And while we talked extensively ahead of time about filming style, long takes, how we were depicting sexuality visually, and more, the comms sets were indispensable for our improvisational shooting style. We could all be on the same page in real time versus having to redo entire takes. It feels similar to the difference between editing in person versus remotely. It also allowed us to set up for shots more quietly, which created a calmer vibe on set where there were less loud voices and hurrying around. I think that’s a helpful environment for actors if you can pull it off.
Finally, we also employed a “no ‘action’” and “tail slate only” rule. On other sets, I noticed how quickly last looks from HMU/wardrobe, slate announcements, “sound speeds,” “annnd.. action!” could pull performers out of the energy they just had built with notes from a director. I have a lot of respect for all of these departments, of course, and actors with a lot of training or experience might have good tools for ignoring these moments and staying present. But I knew these industry standard pre-take elements would not fit with the style of film we were making, and that there didn’t have to be rules around that here. That allowed us to slip into takes seamlessly — the scene of Eden talking to herself while on her phone, for example, was happening in the moment. I quickly and quietly gathered Shannon (DP) and Darius (sound mixer), to record it. Of course, Eden saw them coming with the camera but knew to keep in the moment. In between the setups we needed to get, we felt like kids at play, trying to help each other do our best, recognizing when we needed to lock in because someone else was feeling something.
We played around with a few fun practical effects too. Not all of them ended up in the film, but one that I thought came out really well was our use of a fidget spinner with lights. I realized later that I might have been inspired subconsciously by Henri-Georges Clouzot’s Inferno camera tests that I had seen some time earlier and still adore. The circular movement of that lit-up fidget spinner in the dark, on Eden’s face and in her eye, created our own ultra-low-budget version. Gorgeous work by Shannon and Nicole there.
EDITING – REWRITE THE FILM
My editor was the amazing Max Bowens, a dear friend from college. Our first cut of Side Hustle was 40 minutes, and we cut it down to 15:29. I cried when I watched the first cut — I knew it was going to be hard from friends who told me first assemblies are always painful, but I wasn’t prepared for how terrible I’d feel. Telling you all now so you know! Because I knew, I was able to pick myself up without despairing, and over the course of some months we tried editing remotely with notes back and forth due to Covid. That was awful, because we couldn’t jam. I knew we needed in-person, and once we were finally able to make that happen things flowed from there.
We didn’t know how the interviews were going to fit into the film yet, but we cut together the footage first and asked Eden for some dance videos we could play with. She happened to send me the alien video on her own — she was joking around and riffing with me in the world of the movie. One day I realized “Max, what if we put that at the beginning?” Now I can’t imagine the film without it. The collaboration and improv had extended past set, and we were continuing to write the film, as they say, in the edit. It took a lot of playing around, but eventually her videos became the perfect backdrop for most of the interviews.
Max was also great with slashing unnecessary dialogue. I killed those darlings quickly, because I saw how much better it made the film. Be open to bold decisions in post. There are no rules — decisions should just be in service of making the best film possible.
Now go and make something special! No more waiting!
