- - - When you’re 47 and you want to make a film, you think of all the reasons why you shouldn’t, or why you can’t. And you’re right. You have no business trying to make a movie.

Then you remember back to when you did make a movie, at 22.
And the truth is, you didn’t have any business making a movie then either. But at 22, you don’t think of all the reasons why you shouldn’t, or can’t. You just do it.

- - - The problem, back then, was that when the movie turned out to be shit, I took the wrong lesson.
I thought, “Well, I guess I’m not cut out to make movies.”
When I should have thought, “Holy fuck. I did it. I actually made a movie.”
Of course the film was going to be a mess. What did I expect making a movie with no training, at 22?
If only I had reflected on what I could have done better, I assume the next go round would have been better. And the next one, and so on.
Unfortunately, that’s something I’ll never know.

- - - Twenty five years later, I told myself I wouldn’t take that wrong lesson. But in order to get that far, I had to quit thinking like a 47-year-old - and remember what that 22-year-old got right. I had to say fuck it, and just do it.
But this time, keep on doing it.

- - - Learning to make a film is like building a house on your own. You pat yourself on the back for figuring out framing and how to pour concrete. Then someone says, “Ok, now you need to learn brick masonry and drywall. And roofing and plumbing and wiring.”
There’s a reason why you see so many names at the end of even the shortest of productions. There’s so much skill that goes into each of those roles.

I've shown I can make a film. And I plan to make more. But I'm a writer first. And after thirty years of reflecting and revising and reimagining, I’ve got more scripts and script ideas than I’d ever be able to attempt on my own.
All I’m really here to do is meet people who are exceptionally good at those other crucial roles and offer them a project worthy of their talent.