On Getting Rejected (again and again and again) by Reese Hayes

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Today, I received my official letter of rejection to the Stareable Web Series Festival via film freeway. Actually, I found out I wasn’t accepted to the fest yesterday when I checked their blog and saw the Official Selections List did not include the pilot of Cobblestoned. Honestly, I’m not very surprised by this decision as I’ve only been accepted to one short film festival over the span of my 13 years as a filmmaker, but I had my hopes up for this one and find myself disappointed nonetheless. After all, Cobblestoned is all of my friend’s favorite web series! That has to count for something, right?

Rejection is something everyone faces time and time again. It can really hurt to not be given an opportunity you believe you deserve. And as a filmmaker or artist, it can feel like the hard work you put into you art isn’t appreciated or that you, as an artist, don’t have what it takes. And I don’t know, maybe that’s true for me, but so far rejection hasn’t stopped me from continuing down the path of an independent filmmaker. But it’s definitely caused some serious setbacks.

Why can’t I make something that people want to see on a big screen? How will I ever break into the industry if no one sees my work? Am I even a real filmmaker if my small audience only watches half my film on YouTube?

I obviously don’t have answers to any of these questions, yet I ask them each time I get another rejection letter. At some point I might give up on submitting to festivals all together. It’s quite expensive and when you don’t get accepted it literally feels like throwing your money away. And that’s money I could have used on my next project!

It seems like some people get pumped up over rejections. Like it lights a fire under them and makes them work harder to get accepted next time. I wish I had this kind of personality, but I tend to creep into the darkness and wait for my inspiration to return. It’s not that I crave validation or constant attention, but being told you’re not good enough over and over again kinda sucks. It’s hard to keep going, but from my experience the only way to move past it is to make something new. So, this time I’m trying not to dwell on it. Yeah, it would have been fun to fly to New York, meet a bunch of people, and see how a live audience reacts to my film, but now I have a free weekend to make the next one!

I guess it stings because each time I make something new, I feel like it’s the best thing I’ve done yet. And usually it actually is. So, I get excited. I feel like I’m making progress in this ridiculous career path. This time, I’ll get an acceptance letter! But each time, I’m put in my place again. Maybe I need to stop valuing myself from what some festival curators see in me. Maybe I need to focus on making something my friends and family will enjoy. Maybe I should start my own film festival and accept my work every time!

Okay, I don’t know where I’m going with this post anymore. Rejection sucks, but it doesn’t mean you suck. I suppose it can take a long time to make something worth showing in a festival. Don’t let it get you down like it gets me down. From my experience, it’s not very healthy. Continue making things until you’ve made something no one can ignore. And maybe just save your money on short film fests. I don’t think they’re all that important anyway. Make a feature and get it into Sundance and then when it gets nominated for an Oscar and you ultimately win, get up to the podium with your little golden man, thank you mom and your producer, and put some shame on the people who told you no. And then laugh at them, because now you have a dumb little gold man that will forever sit on your shelf judging all those who enter your home.

On Working with Extras by Reese Hayes

Background Actors (the preferred nomenclature) are a mysterious bunch of artists that are critical to creating a realistic environment in your movie.  Whenever you watch a scene that takes place at a restaurant or a bar or at a wild party, all those folks in the back having fun are background actors.  They create the atmosphere of the location and give life to the scene.  Without them, movies would feel very lonely indeed.  However, many low budget and independent filmmakers struggle to find background actors that are willing to perform their art for free, for “credit”, or for access to a really weak crafty table.  Believe it or not, most people do not enjoy standing around miming actions for 8 to 12 hours with little to no compensation.

On our web series, Half Bath we had a difficult time filling out the bar in Chapter 3, the diner in Chapter 4, AND the party scene in Chapter 5.  The bar wasn’t a huge issue since it was meant to be an undesirable location for the main characters so having some awkward silence wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.  We also got around this problem at the diner by sitting the characters closer to the window and only seeing the rest of the establishment for brief moments in close-ups.  The party in Chapter 5 on the other hand was a little embarrassing.  Why don’t they have enough friends to warm their new house?  Who is Natalie talking to when she gives her speech?  We didn’t have good answers to these questions so I changed the time of the episode to take place much later in the night and hoped people would assume the party was winding down when the episode began…  The background actors who did show up were all wonderful people who like nothing more than being on set and surrounding themselves in the filmmaking process. 

For our most recent episode of Cobblestoned, I decided to do things a little differently.  I wrote the scenes so that our principal actors (me and Mikey) are never seen in the same shot as the extras.  There are multiple instances where one or both of us are talking to a group of people or showing them an illusion and it was important to me that I could shoot the reactions of the crowd before shooting our performances.  This allowed me to move very quickly and get all of the shots we needed so that the extras could leave as quickly as possible.  Most of these people were fans of the show or our friends that owed us a favor and all of them seemed excited to be there.  We didn’t make them wait around, we gave everyone a line of dialogue if they wanted one, and we got them out the door in less than 3 hours.  That’s a pretty quick day for any background actor.  And it worked really well!  It took more planning and organizing than usual, but what resulted was the best scene with extras we’ve ever shot at Dashing Agent.  Everyone had fun, did amazing work, and made new friends!

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When trying to find people to be extras in your movie, you need to realize that they are as essential as any other role.  Maybe they don’t have lines or close-ups or drive the story forward, but they’re there to make the world feel real.  Treat them like they’re a part of the production family and that you couldn’t do it without them.  All they want is to be a part of something and have fun while they do it.  Allow them to have fun and make them know just how important they really are.  But by all circumstances DO NOT make them waste their whole day on your stupid movie set.  DO NOT neglect to make them comfortable while they’re there.  DO NOT tell them you’ll feed them only to kick them out way ahead of schedule and keep the hotdogs for yourself (I’m really sorry about lying to you Jake, Joe, Chauncey, Donald, Ryan, Lorraine, Shannon, Chloe, Philip, Jack, Carrie, and Justin… I swear it was not my intention).

When it comes time to shoot the crowd scenes, give the background actors specific directions.  They’re actors too and need to know what they’re supposed to be doing and why they’re doing it.  Give them the opportunity to come up with characters for themselves.  It might seem silly, but if they have the proper motivation they likely won’t stick out as a clumsy extra who doesn’t look like they belong there. 

Try your best to keep them on the move.  If you give someone a specific task and make them do it over and over for the entirety of your shoot, they’re gonna get cranky and bored.  Move them around even if you might not see them on the screen (in fact, it’s probably better if you can’t).  Most audiences won’t notice if an extra is in 2 shots when they shouldn’t be, but you’re an independent filmmaker so who cares what the audience thinks?

And for the love of god, pay attention to them!  Answer questions if they have them, give them breaks if they need them, and tell them to fix whatever they might be doing wrong.  A lot of the time, directors and DPs will be too focused on the talent to realize the background talent looks uncomfortable and unrealistic.  Work with them.  They’re as much a part of the scene as your leads, so make sure they’re doing the right thing.  Background actors love being told to do something differently.  It means they’re working and are useful.  And that they might get IMDb credit for this one! Finally!!

That’s all the advice I have on working with extras, but if you’re reading this you’re probably wondering “How do I even find extras for my movie?”  That’s a whole different topic that I don’t even want to try to get into.  My biggest piece of advice is to not write scenes that need extras.  It’s such a pain…

On Using What You've Got by Reese Hayes

It seems like a large population of the independent filmmaking community is overly concerned with gear – cameras, sound recorders, stabilizing equipment, fancy lights, whatever you get it – so much so, that it prevents them from actually making the thing they want the gear to help them make.  I completely understand this.  In fact, I’ve been struggling with a mild camera buying addiction for several years. I always want the newest thing with the coolest features and neatest doodads, but I try to never let my lack of doodads keep me from being creative. As far as I’m concerned, creativity requires very few doodads.

At the risk of sounding repetitive, making Cobblestoned has been one of the most challenging yet rewarding projects of my short filmmaking career to date. We spend very little money, shoot in our backyard, and cast our talented friends to act and operate the camera. Of the 3 episodes we’ve completed so far, a tri-pod has been the only piece of non-camera/sound equipment that we’ve used. We have no gimbals or cranes or dollies or doodads of any sort. We have a camera, a microphone, and (this a very new addition) a ring light. You can see the ring light in action during Cobblestoned 3 when it’s reflected in Erick’s glasses while he sits on the couch eating Shredded Mini Wheats with Irish Cream Liqueur…

And I will admit, we have a nice camera. Like I said, it’s a serious problem I have. After shooting Half Bath with a rented Sony A7Sii, I decided I needed something for myself to shoot all of my projects with. The camera I had been using up until that point was incredibly outdated (i.e. it didn’t shoot 4K video). So, I saved up for a few weeks and bought the Panasonic GH5 and a couple prime lenses. Since then, I’ve purchased another lens, a battery pack, and a variable ND filter. All of that and the Tascam sound recorder and Rode NTG-2 boom microphone I’ve had since high school pretty much fills out our equipment list. And from what I can tell, it’s really all we need to tell a story.

I understand that a lot of filmmaker’s number one priority is not always storytelling. Some just want to make something pretty. Others are more concerned with creating dope visual action sequences or being really cool—okay I don’t actually understand those filmmakers. Storytelling should always be the number one priority. But the point is, make stuff. It doesn’t have to be perfect, polished, professional… It just has to be completed. If you have a camera and a microphone you’re already half way there. And if you don’t have a camera, I’d be more than happy to lend you one of mine.

On Looking Back by Reese Hayes

This week, I’ve been in my hometown helping my mom move everything out of my childhood home.  It’s been an interesting experience filled with mixed emotions.  I’ve spent much of my time going through old photographs, playing the video games I used to love, and listening to the music that once meant so much to me.  There are things about those years and the memories made in this house that I’ll truly miss when it’s finally time to say goodbye.  This is where I developed a love for cinema.  It’s where I wrote my first stories and made my first films.  I remember wishing for the day that I could leave this town and become the youngest Oscar award winning director in history!  But now that this house and this town will only be a part of my past, I feel a bit of melancholy that can only be cured by one thing…  Reflecting back on (and cringing at) the movies I made in my youth.

 

TRIGGER WARNING! THESE FILMS ARE REAL BAD AND MAY CAUSE AN OVERWHELMING SENSATION TO LAUNCH YOUR COMPUTER/PHONE ACROSS THE ROOM IN DISGUST.

 

Might as well start from the beginning.  ‘Wanna Duck’ was modeled after a game my classmates and I played where we repeated a silly phrase about a duck to one another.  It was kind of fun if you had a ton of people doing it, but other than that it was pretty lame.  And since I had very few friends willing to be in my movies at this time, the video is pretty lame too, but I learned how to edit on iMovie which is a valuable skill to put on a resume!


 Over a year later, I made POKEMON RAGE QUIT which was basically my attempt at recreating the scene from The Two Towers when Gollum is arguing with himself about the hobbits.  This one isn’t totally incompetent (please ignore the frustrating disregard of the 180 degree rule. I don’t think I knew what it was yet) and is even kind of funny at parts.  I was learning to tell stories with an actual beginning, middle, and end around this time and the two Reese’s seem to be different characters which is impressive given my poor acting abilities to this very day.


Unfortunately, I can’t share with you my life’s work, CAPTAIN CAPTAIN, as it remains incomplete, but I shot enough of it to cut this sick trailer that I used for months to prove I was a real filmmaker.  CC is still probably the longest script I’ve ever written, filled with masturbation jokes, obscure references, and a lengthy interview segment that tied the whole narrative together that was never shot.  I worked for months on this short film, recruiting all of my friends to play silly parts and to hold the camera whenever I had to act poorly as The Sheriff.  Most of the shots are out of focus, all of the music is from my favorite movies, and I’m pretty sure the ending was a direct rip off of Dirty Harry.  Honestly, I’m just happy to have gotten this garbage out of my system at such an early age.  Had it ever been finished, it would have been a real stinker.


But this lead me to reviving the classic character for my very first web series, Part 1 | Zombies and Part 2 | Werewolves. This series also ended abruptly after my lead shaved his beard in the middle of production on Part 3 | Vampires, but my dream is to reunite the cast of my high school buddies and complete this saga once and for all.  Watching these films brings me back to a time when all I wanted to do was to create things with my friends.  I had no agenda or desire for success from making these movies, I was simply bored of school and passionate for filmmaking.  While the films aren’t all that good, I think the amount of fun we had making them shows.  We were just goofing off together while I bossed everyone around for my “vision”.

 

I think that’s about all I can handle for today.  I made a few more films after these that I’m relatively proud of, but I can’t put myself through watching them again.  However, it’s good to reflect on the work you’ve done in the past.  It helps me see the progress I’ve made as a filmmaker while also reminding me of what I used to love about the process of filmmaking.  These films bring me right back to the mindset I was in when I made them.  I remember my frustrations at not being able to properly convey the emotions I wanted to express.  I remember my friends and teachers praising me for my hard work.   I remember sneaking into abandoned buildings, shooting entire scenes in grocery stores without permission, making my friends do ridiculous things for the sake of a funny joke.  It was a great time to learn about cinema and sometimes I feel like I need to recapture some of that youthful ignorance in order to continue growing as a filmmaker.

On Leaning into Your Inspirations by Reese Hayes

There’s a lot of talk around the indie film community about “finding your own voice”.  I’m not totally sure what that means.  I’ve been making films since I was 12 and still don’t think I’ve ever found my voice.  There are certain things that excite me as a filmmaker and a few tools that I continually use to tell stories a specific way, but other than in my writing I don’t think I have a specific style that’s only unique to me.  What I do have, however, are a ton of filmmakers and movies I look to for inspiration time and time again.

There are many artists who view the world in such an interesting way, that it’s impossible for their art to not reflect their point of view. Filmmakers like David Lynch and Wes Anderson seem to fit this bill.  Watching their movies feels like stepping into their brains and seeing the world from a totally different perspective.  It creates a sense of wonder in the world they’ve crafted for the screen while being entirely authentic to their artistic sensibilities.  There are other filmmakers (Quentin Tarantino and Edgar Wright, for example) that have built a career and a visual language from the movies and works of art they love.  They’re students of cinema that are able to translate what they enjoy about a certain film into their own style.  It’s not as easy as ripping off a shot or referencing a line of dialogue.  You have to understand the film from every aspect before you can apply the tools to your own work.  The difference also lies in the volume of art they “copy”. 

I’m not trying to say that you don’t need to have an artistic expression in your movies.  Your art should be personal to you and the way you present your art should reflect that.  BUT!  It’s silly to expect yourself to have some completely original way in which you tell your story.  What I’m suggesting is that you steal from every film you’ve ever seen and loved.  Rip off a shot from Goodfellas, take a line from Chinatown, light a scene like the Godfather, do whatever you want!  Don’t be afraid to have inspirations and for those inspirations to show up in your art because inevitably they won’t look or feel very much like the source you ripped off and now you’ve created something different and interesting! 

This shot from Cobblestoned 3 was inspired by a panel from one of my favorite comics, Calvin and Hobbes.  It helps that Reese is half the size of Erick…

This shot from Cobblestoned 3 was inspired by a panel from one of my favorite comics, Calvin and Hobbes. It helps that Reese is half the size of Erick…

A lot of notes on this blog aren’t meant to be taken seriously, and this one may feel like that, but it’s for real.  It’s okay to not know how to say what you’re feeling.  You probably got into movies because someone else was able to explain your feelings better than you were.  And while I’m kind of joking about stealing direct images from your favorite movies… mostly I’m not.  You should take what you like, but put your own twist on it.  Your shot won’t look like Scorsese’s.  Your line won’t sound like Robert Towne’s.  Your lighting won’t feel like Gordon Willis’.  But you’ll learn why those masters made the decisions they made.  You’ll gain a fundamental understanding of how that specific shot or lighting setup works and the next time you make something, you’ll use it to your advantage in a totally new way. 

Just make sure you aren’t focusing all of your theft on one film or filmmaker.  My series, Cobblestoned, is heavily inspired by the works of David Lynch (primarily Twin Peaks), but I gather a lot of ideas and inspiration from other shows and movies as well like The X-Files, The Evil Dead, and Bojack Horseman.  Figure out what you love and lean into it.  Don’t worry about being completely original, especially early on in your filmmaking career, because you probably don’t have enough life experience anyway.  Spend those early years experimenting with tools developed by the people you admire.  Become a craftsman and apply those tools however you wish.  But I guess I should probably mention that I’m not an authority on this and that our Dashing Agent lawyers strongly recommend not listening to anything I say.