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I
love film. Correction, I love making films. However, it
comes with inherent problems. Unless you are well
funded, independently wealthy, or damn lucky, it almost
never meets with one’s expectations. And the process can
be nightmarish: script problems, acting problems,
location problems, people interfering, food allergies,
ego clashes, vanity, high expectations and low results,
to name but a few. It is a process which makes one want
to pull one’s hair out (assuming of course, as in my
case, one still had any to remove). You work endlessly,
tirelessly, to
 produce your vision, but the results are
nothing like what you envisioned, and yet you go on.
After all the mucking about, cursing, stress,
depression, and swearing that you will “never, ever, not
in a million years, not if someone paid you a bazillion
dollars, will you ever do this again,” at the conclusion
of the process, you say, “Wow. It’s over. Man. When do
we do it again?” As for my films, I have produced,
written, directed, and acted in several. Some were
completed and found a little success. Others faltered.
Some were good and some were such a travesty to
filmmaking that even the great Saint
Alan Smithee could not save me and only
Ed Wood, Jr. could sympathize.[1]
But I saunter on; Ever on.
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