Chapter 17

The Demands of the Job

When you are the director of a project, people are going to judge you. The buyers ask the producers, “Is the director staying on time and on budget?” By that, they mean, are you someone who knows the craft and will return their investment? The producers ask the DP, “How’s the director doing?” By that, they mean, do you know how to make the day? The makeup artist asks the actor, “How is he [or she]?” By that, the makeup artist means, do you know about character and performance and how to get it? The dolly grip asks the camera operator, “What’dya think?” By that, the dolly grip means, do you know how to use the camera well? The writer asks the script supervisor, “Is she [or he] sticking to the script?” By that, the writer means, are you a good storyteller? And all of those questions are asked within the first hour of your appearance on set. Everyone is waiting to judge because everyone has a lot riding on your competence, and everyone wants to know if you’re any good. Everyone wants to get home to their families at night (or some other aspect of their personal lives), but they want to do work they can be proud of, too. So they’re going to judge you: Are you fast? Are you on budget? Are you good?

You can be all three of these things; you don’t have to “pick two of the above,” as the industry saying goes. When you are prepared, when you know your craft, and when you are passionate about storytelling and have that inner sense of good taste we talked about in the previous chapter, you can be all three. But you have to have done your homework, and you have to be a leader. And you have to understand storytelling. It requires hard work, intuition, and creativity. Because it’s such a complex job, not many people are really, really good at it. So everyone judges. They want to know whether you can be trusted to make this project happen.

 

 

That kind of intense scrutiny can be stressful, especially when it happens every day. You’re only as good as your last dailies. Every day, the questions are asked. Every day, you must pass the tests and get good marks from every single person associated with the production, down to the production assistants, who carry the gossip on their rounds from set to office to postproduction to studio or network suits. By stepping up to the job, you are stepping up to never-ending judgment.

Sounds brutal, doesn’t it? But it doesn’t have to be.

SUGGESTIONS FOR DEALING WITH STRESS

Your level of stress depends on your attitude. Mary Lou and Bethany are both known for their positive attitudes, and over their 45 years’ combined experience in dealing with this kind of fishbowl existence, they have come up with the following ways of dealing with stress.

 

1.  Do the work in prep.

Although it may seem tedious next to the excitement of shooting, being consistent about prep work provides the foundation for your success as a director. When you know how you plan to shoot something, you are able to be confident when you step onto the set. You know what the story is, you know who the characters are, and you know how you’ve blocked it. You can be decisive and clear.

2.  Enlist the support of your team.

You are all a team—all pulling together to create one project. If any one element of that team falls out, everyone is affected. So everyone is of equal importance. Ask the key grip how to achieve the crane shot you want in the best way; in doing so, you reap the benefit of the key grip’s experience plus make him feel needed and appreciated. Ask the script supervisor if there’s any shot you’ve missed. Ask the costume designer for her opinion on colors and style. Make everyone want to give his best effort to help you succeed.

3.  Be in good health.

Eat well, sleep well. Stay off of anything that fogs your mind or clogs your system. Exercise, even if it’s only a short brisk walk after a meal or a stretch while you’re waiting for the crew to finish lighting. Wear sturdy shoes and sunscreen.

4.  Believe in yourself.

This one is easier said than done, of course. The longer you direct, the more confident you’ll be, given the breadth of your experience. But if you’re just starting out, you really have to take a leap of faith. How do you do that? We suggest the following:

Assess your passion. Is it absolutely necessary that you direct? If you can honestly say yes, you’re probably in the right place.

Face your fear and do it anyway. (Remember this old Nike slogan?) You’re never, ever, going to start directing something and not be afraid. You just have to know that and do it anyway.

Do your best. That’s all you can do. You cannot control outcome, just as (from a Zen point of view) you cannot really control anything at all. Just be prepared, and do your best.

Break it down into its smallest pieces. When you look at the enormity of the whole project, it’s intimidating. Don’t look at that. Look at the first step. On the first day of shooting, that will be the first rehearsal of the first scene. You can do that. Now what’s the next step?

Surrender. You cannot carry tension, or fear, or your own self-judgment into a creative enterprise and have it work out for the best. Let it go. Know that whatever happens, you’re going to be fine. And if you can’t do that, act “as if” until it becomes second nature to you.

Embrace the joy. Yes, it’s scary. Yes, it’s intimidating. But it’s also pure joy, pure adrenaline rush. Remember that you got into this because you love telling a story with a camera. Have fun!

 

Bethany and Mary Lou both have stories that illustrate this excitement/fear dynamic. Bethany was sick to her stomach every single morning of her first job directing (St. Elsewhere, 1985) but describes the experience still as “the best seven consecutive days of my life.” When Mary Lou was hired to direct her first single-camera film hour (after 20 years of directing multiple-camera shows), she was told by two executive producers—both of whom were experienced directors—to expect a night of sleeplessness prior to the first day of shooting, as that’s what they themselves were accustomed to. Despite being exhilarated and exhausted, we all reach the end of the first day of shooting, or the eighth (if you’re shooting a network drama), or the 88th (if you’re doing a big-budget miniseries). We get through it, dealing with stress all the way. It won’t be the sweat-inducing fear or sleepless night that you have before you begin shooting; it will be the ongoing kind that requires stamina, the kind that wears you down if you’re not prepared for it.

 

 

Let’s say you’re on the third day of shooting. The initial rush has worn off, and you’re trying to keep your energy, creativity, and enthusiasm up. After all, you’re the leader on set. Bumps in the road are showing up everywhere: the actor doesn’t like the script, the producer doesn’t like your blocking, the DP complains that the cloudy day is messing with his lighting, and so on. Everyone turns to you for solutions. Ideally, you are able to solve problems in an inspired way that will not only make the best film, but also soothe wounded egos and encourage everyone—both cast and crew—to keep their own energy and commitment levels up.

PROBLEM SOLVING

 

 

It is this problem-solving ability that is at the heart of the director’s job. If you are not a good problem solver, your stress level will skyrocket simply because in each day of shooting, the director is asked to solve a myriad of problems. All roads lead to you. You’ve already experienced this in prep, when questions like the following were asked: If the location manager can’t get a permit, should he attempt to get one for your second-choice location? If the prop master can’t find the hero baseball bat in silver and orange, should he have the art department make one, or would you be willing to go with the one that’s silver and red? If the casting director can’t make a deal with the actor you want, should more money be found in the budget, or should he arrange another session for you to read more actors? When you’re shooting, the questions are more immediate: Should you print takes 3 and 4 and move on? Or do you think you can get a better performance from the actor? Should a particular shot be Steadicam or dolly? It’s a half-hour before lunch, and you have two shots left; after lunch, you’re scheduled to shoot three more scenes. Can you get the work done in half an hour?

There are numerous procedures out there for problem solving, but Mary Lou has one she particularly likes. She says, “It informs who I am and how I operate in the world.” Because the job of a director is inherently one of problem solving, it stands to reason that the way you cope with this dimension of the job is a bellwether of your overall performance. If problem solving does not come naturally to you, there are skills you can learn. The following steps should help.

Six Steps to Problem Solving

1.  Identify the problem.

2.  Brainstorm solutions.

3.  Choose a solution.

4.  Act.

5.  Evaluate results.

6.  Be satisfied with the result or go back to step 3.

 

These steps provide you with a thought process. They are concrete and productive to help you answer whatever question is being asked of you. You might run through the first three steps in just seconds, depending on the situation. Or you may take longer to consider, especially if the problem is slow to develop, like this common one: you’re on an exterior location and one look at the sky tells you it’s probably going to rain. The UPM and 1st AD ask you what you want to do. Do you want to pull the plug, quit shooting, and move the company indoors or to another location? Do you want to keep shooting and hope for the best? If it starts raining, can you make it work for the scene, or is it a complete mismatch, and therefore a disaster? The choice, as with everything on the set, is the director’s, until the lightning bolts start zig-zagging across the sky, and then it’s out of your hands, because it’s too dangerous around the power source, the generator. Whether the question is what to do in case it rains, or what to do when your lead actress refuses to deviate from her personal hairstyle even though it’s a period movie (this happened to Bethany on a Danielle Steel movie adaptation, she solved it by putting the actress in a hat), the problem-solving steps provide a structure in which to think through the challenge.

A director has to have a certain amount of tunnel vision in order to get his goal accomplished. Phil Alden Robinson, who wrote and directed Field of Dreams, said, “The actor may not want to do it your way, or the cameraman may say, ‘We can’t get that shot, the sun will go behind a cloud.’ The soundman will say, ‘I can’t use this take because the airport is so close.’ The art department may say, ‘We don’t have enough money to do this.’ … Part of the job of directing is being able to think fast on your feet, improvise, and come up with some other idea that does what you wanted to do in the first place.”¹

In the same article, Jason Reitman (director of Up in the Air, Juno, and Thank You for Smoking) elaborates why this decision-making ability is important. “A director makes a thousand binary decisions a day. Now, let’s say I get one of those questions wrong. It wouldn’t be a big deal. Even if I got 5 percent wrong, it’ll probably fly. But let’s say I got half of it wrong. What if this was a really intimate scene and it didn’t feel intimate because the location seemed too modern? Or the background actors brought too much attention upon themselves? All of a sudden, enough questions come up that, for whatever reason, you’ve stopped believing in the reality of this movie … and all of a sudden, the movie is poorly directed.”²

You want your show to be well directed, and that means making good decisions quickly. If making quick decisions flusters you, directing will be difficult. It’s important to remain the calm leader, because as Rudyard Kipling said, “If you can keep your wits about you while all others are losing theirs … the world will be yours”³ (and maybe the Oscar or Emmy, too!). And although it can be a very intuitive skill, there are some additional tools that can assist you in being a better problem-solving, decisionmaking director. Using these tools will help you keep your stress level down, which is always beneficial to the creative process!

TOOLS FOR SUCCESS

1.  Never lose your temper.

At least, not in front of anyone. When you scream and shout, it means you have given in to your frustration and lost control of the situation. That is not something your followers need to see. If you’re in danger of blowing your stack, take five minutes, walk away from the situation, and breathe. Repeat silently to yourself: It’s all good. It’s all good. It’s all good. Breathe. A solution will occur to you when you are calmer. Then you can return to the set and solve the problem.

2.  Don’t rush to judgment.

A good decision is an informed decision. Ask questions. There are two sides to every story. Do not respond to an “emergency” until you have all the facts. Then you can assess what needs to be done.

3.  Listen before you talk.

Just as there is subtext in a script—the meaning under the words—so there is often subtext in interpersonal communications. Try to discern what is really being said. That way, you respond to the real problem.

4.  Get your ego out of the way.

Inherent in the role of leader is the danger of succumbing to the allure of being the big shot. When you think you’re more important than everyone else, you lose the perspective that we are all human and imperfect. Yes, people come to you to solve problems. That does not mean you need to impress them, pontificate on your views, or denigrate them for having the problem in the first place. Nor do you need to think of yourself as hot stuff. As the expression goes, you put your pants on one leg at a time, just like everyone else.

5.  Be kind.

You get more flies with honey than vinegar. Your grandmother may have said that, and it’s true. People respond much better to kindness than cruelty. You need people to do things for you, unless you’re going to hang lights or push a dolly yourself. So speak softly and smile. If you can’t do it out of the goodness of your heart, do it because it’s a practical approach.

6.  Trust your instincts.

Your instinct is your “gut feeling.” It is not a rational, thought-out decision. It is a sure knowingness of what is right and what is not. Yes, the construct of your vision is in your thoughts, but adherence to it comes from the center of your being.

 

 

Do not second-guess your decisions by wondering if someone else (the producer, the network, the studio) will approve. As soon as you start trying to think “like them,” you will lose your own internal rudder that tells you what is right and what is good, because it is impossible to be in someone else’s mind. Cling to your own perspective, your own vision.

 

 

Did you ever hear the expression, “Too many cooks in the kitchen spoil the broth”? Just as multiple cooks might say, “You need more of this, you need less of this,” you might imagine that kind of reaction to your film. If you get more than one voice in your head, the voice of doubt, the voice of insecurity, saying “They might not like it, I better do something different/safer/acceptable,” you are doomed. That’s a big word, but it’s true. You were hired for your vision—for being the one and only voice that says, “This is how I interpret the script. This is how this set should look. This is how these characters should act. This is how the story will be told.”

COMPROMISING WISELY

What if the voices are not inside your head, but outside? What if you literally have others (producer/network/studio) telling you, “More of this, less of that”? Do you listen? Do you accede to their wishes? Do you deviate from your vision? They are, after all, the ones writing out the paychecks, and just as they hired you, they can fire you. So what do you do?

This is the crux of the matter behind the scenes when you read that a director is no longer on a movie or an episodic director is not asked back because of “creative differences.” When the hiring faction agrees with a director’s vision, everything usually goes well and it’s a happy set (which, more often than not, leads to a successful product: good energy begets good energy). But if there is disagreement, you have three ways to go: do what they want, refuse to do what they want, or try to maintain your vision while addressing their notes. The latter requires diplomacy, which is a skill that not all passionate directors of vision have, and it may lead to a muddled mess. Or it may work out. The point is that as with everything else in the director’s job, it’s all subjective. The suits, or people holding the purse strings, are not necessarily wrong. They may have some good points. And just maybe your vision is sometimes imperfect, despite the fact that you’ve thought it through carefully. Sometimes an outside perspective is needed. If you find yourself in this kind of quagmire, you will handle it in the way that suits your personality and the situation. Bethany experienced this situation recently, when an executive producer told her that her blocking of one scene was flat and her shot selection was ill-conceived. Her choice was either to bristle at the criticism and reject it, or ask herself if there was truth in his statement. After her ego recovered, she acknowledged to herself that although the scene was good, perhaps it hadn’t been her finest hour. And she resolved to do better. This realization doesn’t make her weak; it makes her continue to learn, evolve, and work.

You have to make all kinds of choices in the job, and some of them are for your own survival. If you want to work as an episodic director, that means maintaining a solid reputation, which would be sullied if you were fired or word spread through the community that you were “difficult.” The way you handle creative differences is a moral judgment call that only you can make. If you are directing a film, and it’s more important to you to be right than to be finished, then you can stand on your principles and lose your financing. Or if it’s more important to get your film out into the marketplace, you may find that you are willing to make compromises.

“Compromise” is often perceived to be a dirty word in the entertainment business—the same as “giving up” or “selling out.” You will find that compromise is often a necessary thing, up to a point at which you say, “I won’t go beyond this point.” You know what your bottom line is: the place where you will stand on your principles, no matter what the cost. Until then, however, many decisions are, by their very nature, compromises. In his Wake Me When It’s Funny: How to Break Into Show Business and Stay (Newmarket Press), director Garry Marshall says, “One of the best characteristics a director can have is the ability to compromise wisely.” ⁴ Very cleverly, he explains how he lets the “studio win lots of little battles” so that he can “win the war.” He also advises, “The trick is not to compromise when you’re exhausted or running behind schedule. Compromise when you are clear-headed and full of ideas.”

Because it’s a group endeavor to make a movie or a TV show, there are multiple opinions, and it is a process of soliciting, acknowledging, then accepting/rejecting the input from many sources to get to the finish line. But your job is to lead all those people with their opinions toward the promised land of a project that fulfills your vision. Try to get along, to give respect, to honor a different point of view while being aware that you’re trying to keep everyone on the same path. It’s an overused expression, but the project can be a “win-win” for everyone if you have that attitude.

 

 

The major element that separates a television director from a feature director is this ability to navigate the culture and to interact successfully with multiple cast, crews, producers, studios, and networks. A good freelance director will direct eight episodes a year, on probably at least four different productions. So in addition to being a good shooter, or knowing how to use the camera well, you have to be a good psychologist, acting coach, story editor, and diplomat. You can do all that by having your priorities in order. Be a well-rounded person first and a filmmaker second. You will have a DP and an entire crew behind you to support your knowledge of filmmaking. You have to bring everything else to the table. So learn. Travel. Study. Practice. Understand what it means to be a leader and commit to doing it well. You can do it.

 

 

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1.   Hornaday, Ann, Los Angeles Times, December 25, 2009, Sec. D, p. 2.

2.   Hornaday, Ann, “A director’s work is never done.” Los Angeles Times, December 25, 2009, Sec. D, p. 2.

3.   “Rudyard Kipling Quotes,” Brainy Quotes, retrieved May 7, 2011, from http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/r/rudyard_kipling_2.html

4.   Marshall, Gary. Wake Me When It’s Funny: How to Break Into Show Business and Stay. New York: Newmarket Press, 1995.