After the screening, I was invited to participate in a panel discussion with the other filmmakers in attendance. Honestly, I wish I'd declined. First, because the idea of participating in a panel discussion is terrifying (it's weird, I know. I act on stage and in film, I teach, but ask me to have my photo taken, or take part in a public discussion, and I panic). But also, because I found the experience itself to be terribly disappointing and disillusioning. These women who had made these gorgeous, inspired films were... well, cranky. There was a lot of complaining going on. When the moderator asked what our advice would be to emerging filmmakers, one panelist's advice was "don't do it." Another complained about how awful it is to work with actors, and most of the others agreed with her. (Particularly uncomfortable, as there were at least 20 actors in the audience...)
Maybe I'm naive. This was, after all, my first film as anything other than an actor. But I'm not new to the creative process, and I really believe that it is a privilege to create: to act, to draw, to write, to build, to paint, to tell stories, to create. Sure, most artists will tell you that creating isn't a choice, it's a vocation--we create because we're compelled to. I write a story because a charater gets in my head and won't leave me alone. But honestly, if making films (or books or poems or paintings) is such an unpleasant experience, don't do it. Sell insurance. Paint houses. Make sprockets on an assembly line. Whatever. But if you are one of the lucky people who gets to do the thing you're passionate about... well, be grateful. Love what you do. And if you can't truly love it, at least pretend when you're talking to a room full of people who've just paid to see your work.
