Chapter 18

Getting Started

Every director has a different story about getting a first job. That’s because there is no stepladder to success—no approved way to follow. Everybody “gets in” in his own way. Even if you go to film school, there is no guarantee of a job when you graduate. You have to find your way in and work your way up. In this chapter, we are going to tell you our stories and also let our colleagues tell you theirs. We’ll wrap it up with some advice on getting started.

Directing an episode of television is a big responsibility. The producer, who gives you a job, must know that you will deliver both artistically and fiscally. How can producers be certain if you’ve never delivered before? They can’t; so every time a new director gets a shot, it is a leap of faith on the part of the producer. Your job is to earn the trust and respect of that producer (and studio and network who will also “approve you”) so that he wants to take that leap.

BETHANY’S STORY

Bruce Paltrow took that first leap with me. He was the executive producer of a CBS show called The White Shadow, and I was his assistant. (I had gotten an interview for the job through a connection from my college.) When Paltrow co-created St. Elsewhere in 1981, he promoted me to associate producer, which meant that I supervised all of the postproduction. After a couple of years at that, I began to ask him (all right, to beg and plead) to direct. He kept saying, “You’re not ready.” I would answer back, “What do you mean, I’m not ready? I supervise picture editing, and so I know how to visually tell a story. I’ve taken an acting class for five years, so I know how to talk to actors. And I spend every minute I can on the set. What do you mean, I’m not ready?” What he meant was that I was young and stupid. It takes a strong leader—a person of gravitas—to command a set. And I wasn’t ready. But in the fourth season of St. Elsewhere, when I was 28, Paltrow gave me the shot.

Paltrow was known for giving untried directors the opportunity of a lifetime. He was a generous mentor who liked to provide that hand up. But, as I found out, it often seems harder to get the second job. That’s because the second person to hire you is hiring someone with extremely limited experience, while the first person gets the pride of saying, “I spotted her talent first. I went out on a limb for her, I got her started on her career.” The second person to hire me was Jay Tarses, the showrunner of The Slap Maxwell Show, in 1987. I was a good fit there, and directed eight of the half-hour, singlecamera episodes that season. I got a lot of practice, struggled, made mistakes, and learned tremendously—all displayed in front of a national audience. I have always said, “Whenever I win an award of any kind, I have to thank Bruce and Jay first.”

We’d like to point out that Bethany mentions, “I was a good fit there.” That’s a crucial word. You can be a good director but not a good fit with either the style of the show or the personalities involved. If you have a bad experience on a show and you’re not asked back, it probably does not mean you’re a bad director, but that perhaps it was a bad fit.

MARY LOU’S STORY

“I began my show business career as an actress. My first job in network television was as an understudy for a teenager on a sitcom that lasted only ten episodes. I got this job because of my height (4’11”) and stage experience. At the time, the position was a weekly Screen Actors Guild contract; that position no longer exists. The director of the show, Will Mackenzie, wanted the adult actors to be able to really rehearse when the younger actors were in school; because of child labor laws that require minors to be schooled on set, this was a good portion of the day. I acted with Martin Mull and Judith-Marie Bergan on a show called Domestic Life while teenager Megan Follows, known for her PBS role of Anne of Green Gables and now Queen Catherine on Reign, was learning algebra.

I transitioned from being an understudy to a coach for young actors and finally to being a director. I did this on the second series where I worked with young talent. It was called Charles in Charge and starred Scott Baio. I was already entrusted by the producer, Al Burton, as well as the director, Phil Ramuno, with delivering a good performance from teenager Nicole Eggert.

When I wasn’t performing Eggert’s part (when Eggert was in school) or coaching her (when Eggert was on stage), I was observing what the director was doing. I stayed with director Ramuno when he marked shots every week until I felt comfortable designing my own shots for the show and comparing them with Ramuno’s. I made sure that the producer Al Burton knew I was doing my homework to learn about cameras. Simultaneously, I was directing and producing theatre. Every time I got a good review, I made sure that Burton was aware of the good press I was receiving as a stage director. I called it my “paper assault” because I literally photocopied each and every review I got, highlighted the good things said about me, and handed them out to anybody who might help me get a directing job. Four years into Charles In Charge, I was given the opportunity to direct by Al Burton. I was invited to direct another episode the next season.

Years later, after directing more than 100 episodes of sitcoms, I wanted to expand my directing opportunities. And my fairly recent entry into the single-camera world was mentored by many generous directors who allowed me to observe them, but especially by my coauthor and now dear friend, Bethany. The genesis of this book came from our realization that she talked about directing so clearly and so passionately that it was enough to fill a book—and how much fun it would be to write it together!”

We’d like to point out that Mary Lou had to be patient. She worked hard at Charles in Charge for four years until she was given the opportunity to direct. It often happens that way. Producers are wary of just handing over a precious episode of their cash cow to someone who is an unknown in terms of their ability to deliver. And who can blame them? Very often, you just have to stick it out, do your best in the job you are currently doing, remind them often you’d like to direct, and be patient.

HOW I GOT MY FIRST DIRECTING JOB

Here are some of our colleagues’ first job stories.

Michelle MacLaren

Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad, The Walking Dead

I started in the TV/Film business as a Production Assistant, worked my way through locations, assistant directing, production managing, line producing, eventually developing and producing TV movies, one of which I co-wrote. During this time I knew I ultimately wanted to direct so for years I took directing classes on the side, at night, on weekends, through the DGA and privately. I made shorts with friends, I studied acting for three years so I could better understand what performers go through and hopefully learn some communication skills for directing, and I watched every director I worked with. I joined The X-Files in season 7 as a Co-Executive Producer and worked with inspiring directors such as Kim Manners. At the end of season 8 I asked the producers if I could direct in the coming season and they said yes. I was absolutely terrified but beyond excited. During our summer hiatus, I went to a film school in Rockport Maine and took a week intensive class taught by Alan Myerson. I was very fortunate that the first episode I directed was written by the brilliant Vince Gilligan. My first day of directing I had that AH-HAH moment—I am doing something I love.

Pamela Fryman

How I Met Your Mother, Two and a Half Men, Just Shoot Me, Frasier

I started out as a production assistant in game shows—and didn’t realize at the time that that experience would be critical to my getting my first directing job. A writer I met on a game show told me that he thought I’d make a good comedy director—I promise that what he saw in me I did not see in myself. Cut to years later, when this writer was running a sitcom at Warner Brothers called Café Americain and put my name on the schedule. At the time I was directing daytime dramas (soap operas), having worked my way up—but knew nothing about directing comedies—on film, with dolly cameras, etc. I was wildly intimidated. I was lucky enough to observe Jimmy Burrows for a week—and stepped up and directed my first sitcom. I should mention that hours before I was scheduled to camera block, the Northridge earthquake happened. My shooting week was pushed a couple of weeks. As if that wasn’t enough, when we finally did shoot, in between our dress rehearsal and filming, the show was cancelled. It’s incredible that I didn’t switch careers.

Zetna Fuentes

Pretty Little Liars, Grey’s Anatomy, Jane the Virgin

I got my first directing job in episodic television on Pretty Little Liars for ABC Family. I was in the Disney/ABC Directing Program and I marathoned the first season of PLL and I was hooked—it was really well done and in my wheelhouse so I asked if there was anyway I could shadow. ABC Family wasn’t part of the program at the time but the Program set up a meeting with the executive who covered the show. She was incredibly supportive and got me a meeting with Lisa Cochran-Neilan, who produces PLL. Lisa championed me to the showrunners, Marlene King and Oliver Goldstick, and set me up to shadow the talented Chris Grismer and to then shadow a second episode, with the incomparable Lesli Linka Glatter. Amazingly, Marlene told me she wanted to give me an episode and called her agent on my behalf to get me representation. From that point on, it was everyone going to bat for me to convince Alloy, the studio, that I could do it—the Directing Program, ABC Family, Lesli, Odetta Watkins from Warner Bros, called and put in a good word. And in the final hour when it looked like it wasn’t going to happen, Marlene, Lisa and Oliver did not give up and asked me to fly to LA so we could all sit down with the studio to convince them to give me the episode. I got it! Ever grateful.

Norman Buckley

Gossip Girl, Pretty Little Liars, Rizzoli and Isles, The Fosters

I began my career in 1981, working in postproduction on many theatrical films and TV movies. In the year 2000 I started editing various pilots for Warner Brothers Television, and every pilot that I worked on was picked up to series. After editing the pilot of Fastlane, I stayed with the series and found that television editing was a tough, thankless job—essentially the equivalent of cutting half a feature film every three weeks. But the work taught me efficiency in thinking and I edited for many different directors, from whom I learned a lot. When I was offered the editing job on the pilot and series of The OC, I agreed to do it on the condition they would let me direct. I’m grateful that the producers and Warner Brothers agreed to do so, and by the fourth season I was able to quit editing and begin directing fulltime. I am grateful to all of the directors who encouraged me along the way and shared with me their process. I was taught by masters.

Millicent Shelton

30 Rock, American Crime, The Flash

In 2002, I was an ex-music video director who was blackballed in movieland because I had directed a mini-major film that didn’t make a lot of money. I turned to television because a friend thought I would be good at it. I couldn’t continue in the meaningless though fancy visuals of the music video world anyway. I craved storytelling.

Paris Barclay, a fellow former music video director, was mentoring me and allowed me to shadow him from Preproduction through Postproduction on a pilot he was directing, The Chang Family Saves the World. I was like a fly on the wall watching everything, absorbing what transpired during every meeting, listening to every director’s note, and staying seated in video village when it felt like my presence would be out of place in the flow of work. That is when John Ridley, the show’s writer/creator, began talking to me. He was also seated in video village working on one of his numerous books at his laptop computer. We didn’t have deep meaningful conversations. He asked me about my work as a music video director. I told him about my film fiasco and that was all. Little did I know that meeting this man, would 3 years later change my career forever.

I stayed in touch with him through his assistant. When another of his pilots went to series, I flew myself out to Toronto to observe. John wanted me to direct an episode but the Network rejected me because I had no prior TV directing experience. They then hired a male ex-music video director who had the exact same level of experience as me to direct the episode.

After that, I was really motivated to get a job in Television. I applied for the ABC interstitial program and was selected. I directed a short film that played in (3) 1-minute acts during the Comedy night commercial breaks. Even though it wasn’t an episode, it was a start in the television world.

John Ridley contacted me again in 2005. He was the show runner for the television adaptation of Barbershop. He offered me an episode. This time the network, Showtime, agreed because they watched the interstitial. I got the job! Plus they made Paris Barclay promise to mentor me through the episode and agree to step in if I completely started screwing up. Paris told me not to “F” it up.

I’ll never forget how nervous I was. I practically storyboarded the entire episode because I was scared I’d forget how to direct on set. Thank God I didn’t freeze up when I was actually tested. I had this big scene with almost the entire cast and a lot of dialogue. I had blocked it in my head but on set that blocking was not working. I remember sweating and wanting to cry. I looked around for help but all eyes were on me with expectant looks. So I hid my fear and went with my gut. I moved actors around, freed up the cameras, and it worked!

Michael Zinberg

The Bob Newhart Show, The Practice, The Good Wife

Lou Grant was my first single camera assignment, and although I had directed many multi-camera half hours and several main titles, this was a BIG DEAL. It was a very hot new show with a wonderful list of directors and a great cast, not to mention being an MTM Series and that Grant Tinker had been my boss and mentor for many years by this point in my young career. Alan Burns, whom I knew well, and Gene Reynolds, who I admired for his work on MASH, were the Executive Producers and the wonderful cast was headed by Ed Asner, a good friend from my days as Associate Producer and writer on the Mary Tyler Moore Show … but I had never directed him. Ed was an imposing man, a really strong actor and really smart. I had seen him work with the directors on Mary’s show and also now on his own set, he could be … imposing. Still, I was thrilled to get the assignment and did all the homework I could, watching every episode, hanging on the set and talking to everyone I could corner.

So I get my script (a very good one) and my schedule and see that my first day opens with a four and a half page scene in the newsroom, a gigantic set where all of the newspaper’s staff sat and hung out. It set the whole story in motion and Lou Grant (Ed) prowled the terrain like the king of the realm he was, going desk to desk getting needed information to drive the narrative and giving out instructions. A really great scene. I’m excited to start with it. So I go to my office and prep, prep, prep … notes, notes, notes. Plans, plans, more plans. Walked the set a thousand times, it seemed, I knew every word, every beat, every move. To paraphrase the old saying … Slowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch.

And at call that first day I entered the stage filled with confidence and enthusiasm. I grabbed a mandatory cup of coffee and a donut and got to work. We read the scene, as I heard the words I saw every move, every nuance. Now comes time to stage it and I move to Ed, start with him. I go through it, walking the place as he would, stopping when he would and indicating when he would turn, talk and motion, and who to. It worked, it was impressive, I knew it was good. I wait for a response … Crickets (silence). I turned to Ed, he had listened intently and everyone was waiting for his ideas, his thoughts, and I was sure, his approval. Beat … beat … beat …

“That’s gooooood,” he said slowly. I almost breathed, till “… BUT … I think I (dramatic pause) should really start here, by my desk …” And he proceeded to lay out an entirely different scenario, different moves, different places at different times. I thought my hair would catch on fire. TOTALLY different! But what about MY plan, rattled around in my head, mercifully NOT coming out of my mouth. I watched, listened and Ed finished. “What do you think?” Big Ed asked me, smile on his face. Fortunately I heard my voice say “Very cool, let’s do that,” having no idea how to shoot it. Please, I silently thought, DO NOT let anyone see the PANIC in my heart.

“Let’s mark it!” the First AD hollered and that process began with all the actors falling right in to Asner’s plan. I watched closely … Holy Crap! How am I going to figure all this out, let alone get a fucking camera on it?

The DP was a fabulous guy named Bobby Carimico and the A-camera operator was another wonderful gentleman named Bobby Liu, both of whom I knew from around the lot, and they were professionals I looked up to. Carimico was a big guy, I felt his hand rest on my shoulder … “Don’t worry, kid,” he said, “We got you covered.” I looked at he and Bobby Liu and they, I am sure, saw the relief in my face. And, yes, they carried me through that first morning till I could get back on my feet and figure out the scene. We got it done by lunch, on schedule, and I fled to my trailer to re-prep the balance of the day.

Multi-Camera was easier, I had thought, because you got to stage the scene for the audience, like a play. Then watch it and then put the cameras on it days later. Here, you had to stage and shoot immediately, and 360 degrees in addition. And clearly, you needed more than ONE PLAN! I had done it backwards, I let the plan drive the scene instead of letting the scene drive the plan.

In dailies the next day (Yes, that was what we did then, went to see the rushes in a screening room, all of us watching and talking and learning … God, I miss that …) Gene Reynolds complimented me on most of how that scene was staged and shot. I quietly said thank you and in front of everyone said that it was mostly Mr. Asner’s idea and that the two Bobby’s figured out how to shoot it and that I was more of a student than a participant. Carimico jumped right in, “Bullshit … we all did it,” he stated. Reynolds then said that it was as it should be, a team … and we should get back to it. But a student I was, and in that eight days I learned enough to fill volumes, things I use to this day. Carimico and Liu and I did many shows after that, many series … and always had a good laugh about that first morning. And I was always grateful for their help and kindness … also to this day.

I don’t worry about how to shoot anything much any more, I let the staging and the actors tell me where the camera should be. And I come in with several ideas of how to stage scene, ready to accommodate any actor’s idea, or anyone else’s for that matter, if it makes the scene better, or more comfortable, or more interesting. Staging is always the most fun, and working it through to bring the scene to life. And, for sure, I’ve never once since stepped out a scene for an actor … ever again. Asner and I have worked together many times over the years and he is still among the smartest and most interesting and, yes, imposing actors I have ever worked with. He’s a pleasure, and it’s my pleasure to let him do what he wants.

David Paymer

The Fosters, The Mentalist, Grey’s Anatomy, Hart of Dixie

My first directing job was very much related to my career as an actor. After over 25 years of acting in film and television, I was eager to get behind the camera as well. I knew that I needed to at least make a short film to use as a “calling card.” At that time, Showtime was producing a series of shorts called “Quickflicks.” They were specifically looking for actors to direct their fellow actors. Michael McKean starred in my comic short called Candor City Hospital. This six-minute film was well received but I still didn’t have a directing job.

I showed the film to my dear friend Treat Williams who was then starring in the series Everwood. Treat wanted to work with directors who “spoke the same acting language” as he did. Although my short had no resemblance to Everwood in tone or content, Treat brought it to his producers, Greg Berlanti and Mickey Liddel. They knew my work as an actor and kindly offered me an episode to direct. The show turned out well and I went on to direct more episodes of Everwood. These became another calling card (someone said yes!) and my agent successfully brought me more opportunities and offers.

When I’m directing now, I feel a special affinity with the actors I work with. They know that I’ve stood in their shoes and I like to joke that we share the actors’ secret handshake. In this case it helped me launch my directing career.

Karen Gaviola

Sons of Anarchy, The Blacklist, Lost

I had been working for 5 years as a first assistant director on many television shows and had worked with many directors.

One Saturday, a friend of mine asked if I wanted to tag along with her as she ran errands in Santa Monica—a city I never go to. I was bored, so I agreed. We stopped for lunch at the Broadway Deli. As we ordered, I noticed a man at the counter staring at me. I mentioned to my girlfriend that I thought this strange man was trying to hit on me!

Next thing I know, the man is standing at our table and says, “What’s the matter, Gaviola, don’t you recognize me?” He had a distinctive voice, and only then did I recognize the man to be Mark Tinker, a director with whom I had worked on several series (and yes, he looked different!). After exchanging pleasantries, he said, “I’m producing a show and we need a first AD. Are you working?” I said, “What’s the show?” He said “NYPD Blue”—at that time, the hottest series on the air. I lied and said, “No! I’m not working!”

I got the job and did good work. At the end of each season, for the next three years, I asked Mark for a directing shot. He granted me one the fourth year.

So: the moral of this story is, eat out a lot and be nice to strangers! Opportunity knocks in the strangest ways!

Tom Verica

Scandal, Harry’s Law, The Mentalist

I got my first directing job on the NBC show American Dreams. I was an actor on the series, however, I always had the desire to direct. I immersed myself in a film course to learn the technical aspects of visual storytelling because I was dedicated to learn as much as I could about the craft. In an effort to convince the producers of my passion, I directed a 30-minute short film which I screened for the cast and producers of Dreams. Luckily, it was a huge success and they felt confident enough to let me helm an episode. My experience went very well. That opened the door for me to go on to direct many other shows and, fortunately, gave me a career in directing.

Jerry Levine

Hawaii 5–0, Elementary, Life Unexpected, Scorpion, Monk, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

My first film directing assignment came as a result of a one-act play I directed for the stage. The play was a success onstage and had a unique quality to it. It was character-driven and required us to pay great attention to the performances. The play was Big Al by Bryan Goluboff.

When we realized that we had a unique project on our hands, we decided to invite the Showtime Network to see it, with the hope that they would support us in filming it as a short film. It worked. They saw the potential and produced the film version of the play. A project of this nature requires one to call in every favor you can in order to get the final product completed. We did just that, and God bless all of our friends who supported us in this adventure. Big Al premiered on Showtime and went on to win prizes at Film Festivals and a Cable Ace Award in the Best Actor category for David Packer.

The result for me was a unique piece of film that I could use as a calling card to demonstrate whatever skill I was beginning to develop as a film director. Eventually, the film found its way into the hands of Michael Pressman, who was directing and producing the TV series Chicago Hope. Michael gave me an opportunity to direct that series. Later, when I realized how much I didn’t know, I asked Michael what he was thinking when he hired me. Why would he give someone with so little film directing experience an opportunity like that? His response was that based on what he saw in the performances in Big Al, he was convinced that I could direct actors and tell a story. Not exactly blind faith, because there was a piece of film he could watch—a film that demonstrated that I was beginning to develop a point of view and a voice as a director.

It is also important to mention the incredible relationships we build up through the years and to acknowledge in this article all the help we received from friends, agents, managers, and relatives, who made phone calls, made introductions, shared contacts, and offered support.

However, at the end of the day, it was tenacity and the play that was the thing. Without our ability to self-generate and use all of our resources to push it through and shoot the film, there would have been nothing to show to anyone. So my advice is to get out there with a camera and start shooting.

Paul Holahan

Castle, Unforgettable, White Collar, The Last Ship, Burn Notice

After directing commercials for a few years, I was desperate to direct something with actual lines of dialogue. But there was no clear path for how to get into dramatic television. It seemed like a closed community. The one TV director I knew didn’t take shadows. I knocked on a fair amount of doors, read the trades, wrote ideas, and spent a lot of time not directing.

Then one day I realized that a guy, a friend I had DPd for (worked as a cameraman for), was now a producer of a comic book-inspired live-action cable television series. What luck! I showed him my commercial reel and he was very impressed, saying, “You’d be perfect for our show. Love to have you. But it’s never going to happen.” He explained that there was no way the studio was going to let him hire a director who hadn’t directed an episode of episodic television. Television’s ultimate catch-22 was revealed to me: in order to direct an episode of TV you need to have first directed an episode of TV. And all I had were a bunch of commercials, so I wasn’t getting on the list. Another brick wall.

Two months later, on sunny day in Los Angeles, my friend calls from out of the blue and asks, “You got anything going on tomorrow?” I was available. Turns out that his show had shut down suddenly when their star was hospitalized. The directors’ schedules were thrown into confusion. Miraculously, there was an open director slot that had to be filled quickly, and he was going to book me. The studio was busy worrying about their star. And I slipped in unnoticed. But they liked the show and wanted me to do another. And another …

Lesli Linka Glatter

Homeland, Mad Men, Masters of Sex, Ray Donovan, West Wing, Walking Dead

My first job in Hollywood was directing Amazing Stories for Steven Spielberg. How in the world did that happen? I was a modern dance choreographer with a story I was passionate about telling, so I made a short film through the American Film Institute’s Directing Workshop for Women.

Early one morning, the phone rang, and it was Spielberg calling me to tell me how much he liked my short film. I thought it was a prank call and hung up on him. Thank goodness, he called back!

I met with Spielberg several days later and he offered me the extraordinary opportunity to direct an episode of his new anthology series. He also gave two other new directors, Todd Holland and Phil Joanou, their first opportunity to direct. As I was so new to directing, I asked Steven if I could apprentice with him on his episode before I directed my own. Lucky for me, he said yes. Watching Steven work was the best film school anyone could ever have. In addition, I prepped my episode for a month—storyboarding it over and over, doing anything I could to be prepared.

My first day on my first episode (I ended up directed three Amazing Stories), I had a hundred guys storming a beach in World War II, stunts, explosions, seven cameras, and two eyemo’s. [Author’s note: a type of remote-controlled camera used when it’s too dangerous to have a camera operator in the location.] It was trial by fire, exhilarating and terrifying, and I never looked back. And every day since then, I have felt incredibly grateful to be able to be a storyteller.

Arlene Sanford

Nashville, Bones, Desperate Housewives, Ally McBeal

After working in daytime soaps for a minute, I wrote, produced, and directed a short film. Because I had a friend who was friends with Jamie Lee Curtis, I was able to call Jamie and ask if she would kindly pretty please agree to play the lead in my thirty-ish-minute film called Welcome Home. I needed only five days of her life and although I could not offer her any payment, I promised it would be fun—at least for her. I was scared to death.

She said “yes”—a small miracle. When it was finished, because she was in it (along with Richard Masur, Bonnie Bartlett, and William Windom), a number of people were interested in watching it. A friend of a friend (these are valuable people) had begun coproducing a new show called The Days and Nights of Molly Dodd, which was created by Jay Tarses (father of prolific producer and one-time network executive Jamie Tarses). This friend, Roz Doyle, gave Jay my film, and he asked to meet me. I sat down in his office and he asked me if I wanted to direct his show—just like that, did I want to direct his show. (This was years ago, before the director needed to be approved by a slew of studio and network people. The job would not have happened if that were the case, as I knew none of those people.)

And then I called my agent who I had just met through, you guessed it, a friend of … a distant cousin. She was very proud that she had been able to get me my first primetime directing job.

Scott Ellis

Undatable, Dr. Ken, Weeds, 30 Rock, The Closer

My first job came from David Lee, who created Frasier. He was a fan; we came from the same agency, and he knew my work in theatre. [Author’s note: Prior to this, Mr. Ellis had received multiple Tony nominations and had won a Drama Desk Award. Mr. Lee had probably seen Ellis’s New York productions of She Loves Me, Steel Pier, Picnic, 1776, and Company.] He asked to meet with me because, he said, “We’re always looking for people who really know how to work well with actors on our show.” We had lunch. He said, “Is this something you’re interested in?” I hadn’t really thought about it that much; I had thought about it, but getting your first shot was always tough. I said, “Sure.” And he said, “Why don’t you come out [from New York to Los Angeles]. You’ll be here for a week.” So I did. At the end of that week I said, “I think I can do this.” He was a great teacher. He gave me a shot. At the end he said, “Okay, I can give you the first one, but you’ll have to get the second one yourself.” He meant: if you don’t do a good job, they aren’t going to ask you back; you do, they probably will ask you back.

Henry Chan

The Neighbors, Zoe Ever After, Fresh Off the Boat, Scrubs, 10 Things I Hate About You

I was an editor on The Cosby Show. I won an Emmy and the producers, Carsey/Warner, really liked my work. There was going to be a spinoff called A Different World and I was invited to edit the new show. I accepted and told the producers I wanted to direct. I kept on badgering them until finally they said, “Okay, okay! Give him an episode.” I ended up directing five episodes.

Elodie Keene

The Wire, Glee, Jane the Virgin

Way back in 1975, the fact that I had a master’s degree in film production and had an award-winning film in the festival circuit meant very little to anyone—except possibly me—with regard to my potential as a film or television director. I had, however, developed the ability to edit film, so even though my announcement that I was a “director” met with resounding, echoing silence, if not outright hostility, the announcement that I was an editor got me jobs. For fifteen years, that is what I did.

By a very circuitous route, I made my way to the doorstep of a new show called, L.A. Law. During the second year of that show, which was an enormous hit, I won an Emmy for editing. The next year I was nominated for another Emmy for a TV movie I had cut called Roe vs. Wade. The commonly held conviction among editors was that this recognition would catapult my editing career into some new sphere of editing, possibly into bigger movies, made for television, or a feature. I kept cutting L.A. Law and waited for the phone to ring.

In the meantime I had married, had a beautiful daughter, bought a house, and was trying to “om” myself into being content with where I was in my life. Things could have been a lot worse, or so I told myself. If I never got to direct, so what? Everything else was pretty darned good, so let go, be happy!

Right around then, while shooting the breeze over lunch with Rick Wallace, the executive producer of L.A. Law, he asked me why, out of all the many people who were in his office every day, I had never asked to direct an episode. So stunned by the unexpected turn in the conversation I was that I barely stammered out all my lame reasons, all of which amounted to being afraid of rejection. He then said I needed to think hard about whether I had the courage to take the leap, because he would be willing to take the risk of hiring me as a first-time director. After getting over the shock of the whole thing, I said I would very much like the opportunity.

In subsequent conversations, Rick asked me if I would help him produce the show, so in 1990, I became one of the producers of L.A. Law and I shot one episode toward the end of the season. By the time that show came to the end of its eight-year run, I was the co-executive producer and I had directed twenty episodes. That was the beginning of my pretty much nonstop, twenty-year directing career. I owe it all to Rick.

Joe Pennella

The Neighbors, Life Goes On, Monk, Everwood

I was shooting a series in the late 1980s called Life Goes On; it went for four years and I went to the executive producer, Michael Braverman, in the third year and told him that I’d like to direct one. I had worked as a director/cameraman prior to that doing commercials, so it wasn’t going to be such a big jump; narrative filmmaking is like prose and commercials are like poetry. He said fine, and I got to direct the next-to-the-last-episode. It was a real challenge because it was a story that was told backward. And I went to Michael and said, “I think I can do this, but I’m overwhelmed.” He said, “Joe, this is it. If you want it, this is the one you have to do.” I did. And for that episode, Kellie Martin was nominated for an Emmy and Tony Graphia won the Writer’s Guild Award.

David Breckman

Monk, Pulled Over, Pic Six

As the frequent writer-on-set on the USA Network series Monk from 2002–2009, I had the privilege of watching a lot of outstanding directors in action. And “action” is the operative word because TV is low-budget filmmaking. You are required to shoot what amounts to half a feature in eight—occasionally even seven—days, so there’s no time to indulge in navel-gazing. It’s all go-go-go and you’d better have your kit packed when you arrive on set or you’re screwed.

For me, a longtime movie buff, it was a tremendous experience—like being paid to go to film school—and I very quickly caught the directing bug. In my downtime, I tried to apply what I’d learned on set by shooting a five-minute short called Pulled Over in 2005, and then another, a 17-minute magnum opus called Pic Six the following year.

I was proud of Pic Six. It nabbed some festival awards and made a good enough impression on our supervising director (the wonderful Randy Zisk) that he allowed me to direct my first Monk, “Mr. Monk and the Three Julies,” in 2007—which is all you can expect from a short film.

What I think I brought to the Monk party was an instinct for comedy: knowing what funny looks like and finding ways of enhancing it on the spot, as the occasion demands, and knowing when to hang back and do nothing—which can be just as valuable.

Two more Monk episodes followed, each one (I hope) better than the last, before Monk solved his final case in 2009.

Paris Barclay

In Treatment, Glee, Sons of Anarchy, The Bastard Executioner

After 12 years working as an advertising copywriter and eventually a creative supervisor, I was content to make money making ads. But after directing a few small spots, an opportunity arose to become a partner in a music video company. Masochistically missing my impoverished life as a struggling artist, I took it.

It was the dawn of the 1990s, and I directed music videos for the then-waning New Kids on the Block, the rising Harry Connick, Jr., the iconic Bob Dylan, and was celebrated largely for eight videos I made for LL Cool J, including “Mama Said Knock You Out” and “Jinglin’ Baby,” which were acknowledged with awards from MTV and Billboard. Fortunately, almost every video I did told some sort of narrative story, indicating that I might have promise in longer forms of film. My manager got a reel of my videos to John Wells, then a relatively new writer-producer, and he hired me to come to Chicago to direct a short-lived show he had created called Angel Street starring Robin Givens and Pam Gidley as homicide detectives.

The show was cancelled after six episodes were shot (I directed two of them), but I suddenly was a DGA member and had an advocate. And, as luck would have it, John’s next show was a juggernaut called ER, and he called me back up from the minors to direct.

Ricardo Mendez Matta

Hart of Dixie, Thieves and Liars, Nash Bridges, Touched by an Angel

There are basically only six ways to become a director:

1.  Hire yourself: either you personally raise the money to make a film, or you’re a producer or studio chief, but either way, you appoint yourself director.

2.  Writing: write a script that someone wants to make very badly, and insist on directing it.

3.  Acting: you’re a coveted star and in order to appear in their movie, you insist on directing it.

4.  Nepotism: get a powerful relative to hire you.

5.  Film school: direct a hot short film as part of a class.

6.  Below the line: work your way up as DP, AD, script supervisor, or editor.

Number 6 worked for me. I was a 1st AD on the TV series Weird Science when the director I was prepping with, Max Tash, was suddenly called to do an MOW (movie-of-the-week.). He begged the producers—Tom Spezialy, Alan Cross, and Robert Lloyd Lewis—to let him go, and when they asked who would take over, he said, “Let him do it, he prepped it all with me and is totally ready to do it.” They agreed, partly because they had little other choice, but also partly because we had been working together for several years and I had earned their trust. I directed nine episodes of that series, but that was only the first step (getting a friend to hire you). The second step—getting a stranger to hire you on a new show—was harder, but at a DGA mixer, I was lucky enough to meet Carlton Cuse, who hired me on Nash Bridges. Talent and hard work are required, but the bottom line is without a lot of luck, none of it would have happened. They say you need to be at the right place at the right time. Well, no one knows when the right time is going to be, but you can figure out where the right place is, and stay there patiently until the right time comes.

Rob Bailey

CSI: NY, CSI Cyber, Grimm, Grey’s Anatomy, Gotham, Criminal Minds, The Wire

My big break came when—after bombarding a producer to give me a shot on a show for about a year—he finally got a job somewhere else and agreed to hire me because he wouldn’t be around to deal with the consequences of his decision.

I had been fortunate to get into the National Film and Television School in England, which was a fantastic environment that encouraged students to have confidence in their own creativity and also to go out and watch other directors working in the professional world. So I graduated thinking the world lay at my feet. Two years later, I was back working in the construction business where I had been the day I first got into film school.

It was a frustrating time waiting for that first job, but I had other colleagues from film school who were in the same boat and some who had just started getting work, and I felt that sooner or later I would get a chance. I also knew how reluctant most producers were to take a shot on directors who had yet to prove themselves.

I was naïve enough to think that their main worry was that the director wouldn’t know how to tell the story. The truth came home to me at lunch on the first day; [we were] hours behind and did I have a plan to get us out by 7:00 p.m. and “make the day”? So I got to learn the most valuable lesson of all on day 1: come to the set prepared but also flexible.

Randall Zisk

Monk, Scandal, Blacklist, Madam Secretary, House, Weeds

I was in postproduction working my way up the ladder on an NBC show, Midnight Caller. The executive producer, Bob Singer, knew I wanted to direct because I mentioned it to him every day for about a year. One of my jobs was to shoot the inserts for each episode, usually something simple and easy that didn’t require actors. Finally, Bob Butler—one of the most respected pilot directors of all time—had an additional scene to shoot for his episode. The show filmed in San Francisco and our offices were in L.A. He couldn’t make the trip, nor could Bob Singer, so I got the chance. Bob Butler took out a piece of paper and drew a rudimentary storyboard for me and wrote out a quick shot list. He asked me if it made sense and I just looked at it, confused, and answered, “yes.” I studied that piece of paper for the next 24 hours, and the following day, with the help of the DP, directed the scene. I don’t remember it being particularly well done, but Bob Butler’s work on the episode was so special that it fit in without too much scrutiny.

The next season, I shadowed Bob Singer every opportunity I got, and when a director fell out of the lineup, I was called into his office. He told me to pack my bags: I was getting my shot to direct Midnight Caller. Bob was an amazing mentor and—along with Bob Butler and Les Moonves—he gave me an opportunity I’ll never forget.

Over the next five years, I directed eighteen episodes for Bob Singer on his various shows and just recently had the rare fortune of bringing him in to direct an episode of Monk.

Terrence O’Hara

NCIS, Grimm, Rosewood, NCIS: LA, Lie to Me

The year was 1991, and my first network show was Silk Stalkings, starring Rob Estes and Mitzi Kapture. It was advertised on CBS as “crime time after prime time.” The producers were Stu Segall and Stephen J. Cannell. Up to that point in my career, I had done a few low-budget features and some commercial work after I had graduated from the two-year masters program at AFI. I received a call one day out of the blue that went something like this, “Hi, Stu Segall here, I just saw a tape of yours. I don’t remember what was on it, but I liked it!” That said, he asked if I would be interested in coming down to San Diego to do the show. Of course I said yes. I had a ball; I loved the idea of shooting a one-hour show in six days. I loved working with Stu and ended up doing both Silk and Renegade, another six-day show with lots of action, starring Lorenzo Lamas. It was like going back to film school—a wonderful camaraderie with both cast and crew. Because of my work on these, I was asked to do Dr. Quinn for CBS. The rest, as they say, is history. I’ve been working in television since and I absolutely love it.

David Rodriguez

Once Upon a Time in Queens, NCIS: Los Angeles, Scandal

Growing up in the Bronx with a blue-collar family was a tough place to foster creativity but I loved music, photography and writing for as long as I could remember. After a variety of jobs including being a police officer, I left myself no choice but to go for it. I sold my house, paid off all of my bills and took myself, five thousand dollars and a 3 minute sizzle of the film I wanted to make to New York City. There I pounded the pavement until I found financing and 10 weeks later I was on set directing my first independent feature film, Push.

Antonio Negret

Arrow, The 100, Forever

I was 10 years out of film school, and had directed 3 feature films and some commercials. I was surviving as a director, but on a constant roller coaster of emotions. When it was good—it was really good. When it was bad—it was really bad. For years, I had tried to transition into TV, but was always told the same things—it’s a different world, it’s impossible to break into, it’s a closed club, etc …

I was licking my wounds from yet another independent film that was “fully financed” yet somehow fell apart, when my agent called and told me he’d set up a meeting with Chris Mack over at Warner Brothers. I met Chris, and we hit it off right away. It was there that I learned about the Warner Brothers Workshop, and instantly knew I had to apply.

Long story short, I got into the inaugural class of the WBTV Director’s Workshop, taught by the fabulous Bethany Rooney (with special contributions by Mary Lou Belli). And yes, it was based on this amazing book. I felt invigorated and hopeful. These two incredible directors taught me so much. And I got to meet several showrunners along the way, as well as shadow multiple directors. I soaked up everything I could, both in the Workshop and on the sets, and yes, I ate a lot of craft service as I watched and learned!

Ultimately, it was Jason Rothenberg who gave me my first shot at TV directing, by hiring me on The 100. And he freed me when he said he liked that I hadn’t directed TV before. It was then that I realized I had to somehow embrace the unique demands of television, while emotionally treating every episode like a feature. And that has stayed with me to this day. I directed The 100, which got me an episode of Forever, which got me an episode of Arrow. In less than a year after doing the Workshop, I had gotten my feet wet in television. And I’ve never been more excited, or grateful.

Arthur Allan Seidelman

Six Dance Lessons in Six Weeks, A Christmas Carol—The Musical, The Sisters

When I think of my first film or television job I actually think of two, both of which, in my mind, were first.

The first came as a result of a revival of Clifford Odets’ Awake and Sing which I directed off-Broadway. One of the producers had a day job as a UPM. His name is Willard Goodman and he came to me one day and said he had just been assigned a spoof of the then popular Steve Reeves Hercules movies, which was to star the reigning Mr. Universe. He wanted to know if I would be interested in directing. He offered me $1,000 a week for nine weeks. I said yes before he came to the end of the question. The film was Hercules in New York. The star was Arnold Schwarzenegger. His first. My first.

My second first also was born in a theater. I directed a play at the American Place Theater called Ceremony of Innocence by Ronald Ribman. It was well received and PBS wanted to make a film of it for their American Playhouse series. Ron, bless his heart, insisted I direct the film. I did. It starred Richard Kiley, Larry Gates, James Broderick and Jessie Royce Landis. It too was well received and my career in TV was set in motion; slow motion at first, but still motion.

Angela Barnes Gomes

Let’s Stay Together, Eve, Gillian in Love

I had been working as an Assistant Director for about 10 years when I got a job as the 1st AD for a multi-camera sitcom called Eve. Meg DeLoatch was the show’s creator, and she and Dave Duclon were the showrunners. It was a great set—we had a lot of fun, and the cast and crew really did feel like family. I was there for all three seasons, and both Meg and Dave knew about my desire to direct, as I was pretty open about it, although not very pushy. At the beginning of season three, they called me in for a meeting shortly before I was due to start prep, saying they had some concerns about a certain episode. They handed me the episode breakdown, and the first thing I did was look to see who was directing, and there was my name! Up until that point the only directing credits I had were a few music videos, so I was a little surprised, although it made sense as to why they chose to give me a shot. I had made myself valuable as the 1st AD, so they knew I understood the production side of things. I’d been there from the beginning, so I knew the show’s rhythm both tonally and logistically. They had always been cool about me pitching jokes when we were shooting, and liked my sense of humor. When it was my turn to direct, I was incredibly supported by the producers, cast and crew, who again, felt like family. The episode turned out great, but unfortunately the show was cancelled shortly after my episode. My next couple episodic directing opportunities were also on shows that I worked as the 1st AD for a season or two.

Paul McCrane

Scandal, Nashville, Empire, Major Crimes, Glee

I had worked for Steven Bochco and Greg Hoblit as an actor on Cop Rock (insert jokes here), and they then allowed me to shadow directors during the first season of NYPD Blue. I picked the brains of as many directors as I could, either on set or through lunch invitations, etc. I took a workshop on directing for film. I read everything I could find, but all the technical aspects of filmmaking felt utterly foreign and incomprehensible to me, until Sidney Lumet’s book Making Movies illuminated for me that, ideally, all the elements of production were meant to be in service to the telling of the story. Decisions about the lens, angle, shot composition, lighting, set and costume design, etc., could be evaluated in terms of their contribution toward the objectives of the story and the writer—the intended effect on the audience—just as decisions about character were in a play. This gave me a foothold into this foreign world.

My first TV directing job came on ER. I had been acting on the show for years, and started formally observing directors with some regularity. I requested meetings with John Wells, Jonathan Kaplan, Chris Chulack and other producers, to ask them what I could do to get them to consider giving me a shot. I was never given any specific requirements, but was often told of their need to be sure I was serious, etc. This went on for a little more than a year. Eventually, I wrote a short, and made plans to direct it over the summer. Just before we went on hiatus, the good folks at ER told me I would get an episode to direct the following season. I still made my short, for several reasons: (1) I didn’t want my first time in the chair to be on what was still one of the most successful and challenging shows on TV; (2) Out of a sense of responsibility, and to bolster my confidence, I wanted to make some mistakes on my own dime (which I certainly did!); and (3) My long-term interests were—and are—in developing my own projects anyway, so I saw this as my first opportunity to do so. So I made my short. The following fall, I directed my first episode of ER.

Peter Tolan

Rescue Me, The Job, The Larry Sanders Show, Style and Substance

How did I get my first job directing TV? I hired myself on my own show. It’s easier that way.

GETTING YOUR FOOT IN THE DOOR

The similar parts of our stories are that we all wanted something and went after it. So the first thing we advise you to do is to show up. Prove that you are worthy of the job. That might require you directing a short film or observing on a series for as long it takes to make the producer comfortable with entrusting you with directing an episode. It might mean finding a generous director who is willing to mentor you by allowing you to shadow, or follow, him.

If you don’t see an opportunity, create one for yourself. Once you have the opportunity, don’t squander it. Mary Lou and Bethany are often approached by directors who want to observe. The individuals who show up at crew call, at the beginning of the day, and stay until wrap (the conclusion of a day’s filming), get our attention. If those same individuals design shot lists to compare their work with what we are doing, we really start taking them seriously. Finally, we like to see individuals who know when to ask questions and when to be a fly on the wall. This final trait is the one that reflects someone who sees the big picture.

You probably won’t be able to get an agent until you have a film or television episode to showcase your talents. Again, be methodical with your approach. See if the producer who gave you a job or a director whom you trailed will give you an introduction to her agent. Use any personal contact you may have, even if it seems far-fetched. Sending a DVD of your short film to an agency cold—or without an introduction—will result in it being returned to you with a standard letter saying that they don’t accept “unsolicited submissions.” But if your landlady gives it to her niece, who works in the mailroom at an agency, and she gives it to a VIP agent’s assistant, who likes your short film and slips it to his boss at the perfect moment, it could work.

Writing is another way in. So is producing. Because television is a writer-dominated medium, if you create a show, you can hire yourself to direct it! Or, more likely, if you start your career as a writer’s assistant, then work your way up the ladder (research assistant, staff writer, story editor, co-producer, producer, executive producer), you will at some point find the perfect moment to suggest that you might be the best director for your script. (But we hope you will have taken acting classes and studied the craft of directing first!) If your skills lie in producing, you can prove yourself in that field and have access to the people making the director-hiring decisions. Regardless of how you do it, the secret to working your way up the ladder to becoming a director is to be good at whatever you do, even if you’re in an entry-level position. Put in extra time, remember that the boss likes two pumps of sweetener in her coffee, read everything that goes in and out of that office, stay on good terms with everyone.

If you do your job well, and always go the extra mile, people will notice. The important thing is not to get stuck there. Always have the goal in mind and clearly let people know you are happy to be doing what you are doing, but also that you are steadily working towards that bigger goal.

There are no set rules for getting your first job. Think out of the box. Do it your way because that is what will make you stand out. As you’ve learned from the stories in this chapter, 28 directors had 28 different ways to get in. And you will have yours. Get ready, learn, and be prepared to take advantage of the moment when someone gives you that hand up, because that’s something we all have in common. Someone had to reach down and lift us up. So be in that right place at the right time, with your skills sharp and ready to go. Good luck!

Section Four Review

Being a Director

Directors come in all shapes and sizes, all ethnicities, all educational backgrounds, and both genders. What they have all in common is a passion for storytelling and the ability to be a leader.

If you are a director, you are born with the need to tell stories. You want to make sense of the world and to entertain yourself and an audience by framing real-life experiences and eternal questions.

You need perspective and a point of view. You need to judge what is good from what is bad.

It boils down to having good taste.

It a huge job to interpret the script, shape the actors’ performance, choose every element within the frame, and then use the medium knowledgably and efficiently. You need great leadership qualities such as determination, enthusiasm, and the abilities to communicate and command gently.

Even with talent and great leadership qualities, the job is by its nature stressful because of the immensity of the position and the intense scrutiny that happens every day. We have found four ways of coping with that stress: do the work in prep; enlist the support of your team; be in good health; and believe in yourself.

Directing an episode of television is a big responsibility. The producer, who gives you a job, must know that you will deliver a great show and put the money up on the screen.

There are no set rules for getting your first job. Some people have found success shadowing a director, or finding a mentor. You must think out of the box and do it your way. Once you’ve completed that first episode, an agent might be willing to represent you. It’s just another problem waiting to be solved.

We want to end our book by reviewing some simple rules for success. They’re good advice not just for being a director, but for life in general:

•  Never lose your temper.

•  Don’t rush to judgment.

•  Listen before you talk.

•  Get your ego out of the way.

•  Be kind.

•  Trust your instincts!

•  And we’ll add one more: Go after your dream!

Mary Lou can be reached through her website: www.maryloubelli.com. Bethany can be reached through her website: www.bethanyrooney.com.