No Leaders, Please

“invent yourself and then reinvent yourself,
don’t swim in the same slough.
invent yourself and then reinvent yourself
and
stay out of the clutches of mediocrity.

invent yourself and then reinvent yourself,
change your tone and shape so often that they can
never
categorize you.

reinvigorate yourself and
accept what is
but only on the terms that you have invented
and reinvented.

be self-taught.

and reinvent your life because you must;
it is your life and
its history
and the present
belong only to
you.”

~Charles Bukowski, from The Pleasures of the Damned

Words I’ve lived by for quite some time now. It’s always a cliché when some sort of creative attaches themselves to a famous poet and qualifies their poems to mean something about their own personal lives, as if said poet were speaking to said creative. However, I don’t look at this poem as something reflective on Bukowski’s part, but more as a directive for philosophy; a thought I had long aligned myself with years before stumbling upon this poem.

Invent yourself, and then reinvent yourself. Simple. Effective.

For about 2 years now, I’ve been working at the Producing/Directing game for YouTube and digital platforms. Now, personally, I’m more of a film (digital film, but, y’know) guy, and so to me this felt sort of like taking a step back from my overall goals. By this time, I would like to have directed and/or produced a feature film. I would like to have created something of my own that would have lived or died by my own hand. And while I couldn’t tell you whether said project would have succeeded or failed, I know for a fact that it very well would have been a lesson learned, no matter the cost.

But alas, I’m still technically fresh out here in LA, and was even more so two years ago. I may have been working on films, developing projects, and in general filming for the last decade+ now, but I had never had the experience of putting together significant budgets along with legal worries, locations, crews, hours, etcetera until only about 2 years ago.

I started at Loot Crate as an on-call First Assistant Director at first. But as time went on, it was suddenly necessary that I then had to start producing some of the projects, which then lead to me directing some of the projects, and from there on I got a job as a full-time Producer at the start-up.

Since then, I’ve managed to build a cohesive and brilliant team of creators, writers, collaborators, and friends. And in that time, I went from being some Producer apart of a small team at a small(ish) company where others didn’t necessarily see a need for our department; to now being the Supervising Producer of the Production team wherein we’re relied upon now to help boost sales and fan experience.

It’s been a rollercoaster to say the least.

But in that short time of developing short films, ads, documentaries, commercials, working with major brands and studios; I’ve also gathered a really wonderful set of skills I didn’t know I needed at the time. Not to sound like I’m bragging, but I’ve befriended celebrities, executives, and movers and shakers who have the ability to move projects forward despite choppy seas; and I’d like to think that was based not only on work ethic, but on my team and my capacity to work for what was right, instead of what was “hot” or “popular” at the time. The impetus for integrity is what drives me, and I want to imbue that on every project I work on.

So with that said… I’m… kind of over it. Digital that is. Well maybe not digital, but… I’m over selling products for people who are making money off the back of my work. People who reap the successes of my brainstorming, my research, my development, all without giving me or my team enough credit, but more so, without compensating us properly for the amount of work and integrity we give each project we work on.

I’m currently working on a short science-fiction film based on some work by Simon Stalenhäg. It’s a long process, but I’m so incredibly intrigued by his work that I’ve developed (in my head) an entire feature that I’d love to explore one day. However, if it doesn’t happen, or if somehow it never gets picked up, I would be okay with that, as long as I went out of my way to develop a project of my own, that I was able to fund, get a team together on, film, edit, produce, and get eyeballs onto. I don’t care.

From there, we’ll see. My longterm lifetime goal however is to create at least one, if not several features, and I’m starting to see the clock tick as time passes on. I don’t necessarily see this as a “what-if” but more of a “when-will.” I just need to learn my lessons and build the story I need to tell.

In the meantime, if you’re interested in looking at some of my work, please feel free to go to youtube.com/lootcrate, and most of my films, be they shorts, ads, or documentaries, and whether I directed them or produced them, will be there.

Other than that, I’ll continue to invent, then reinvent. Always.

 

Mediocrity and the Good Fight

There’s an old adage that asks the question, “If you were to write your life’s story down… would anyone read it?”

It’s an interesting question, given that, as story-tellers (if you’re in the world of filmmaking) we are constantly looking for the next great tale to tell. I’m a firm believer in living a full and wonderful life, experiencing as much as you can in the short span of time that is the individual existence – that to be a well-rounded and well-read individual, you must first explore where your moral compass lies, or where your heart takes you.

I write this in reflection of what I myself have had to endure. I won’t detail it out here, as I believe that is for me to tell once people are ready to hear my story. But the reason I think of that question is because, as I look back on my experiences in life, I start to believe that someday in the future I’d like to give some insight on where I’ve been and what I’ve had to deal with growing up, and hopefully; assuming I’ve garnered what I consider a great deal of success, people would want to read it and learn from it.

This is the point in which I look at the term mediocrity, and not only does it frighten me, but it even makes me angry, or spiteful. It’s interesting, because I was thinking about a friend of mine. He’s a video director like myself; working mainly on skits and shorts with some minor successes here and there. I thought about him because, being blunt, his work always seems to lack, what I’d call… “heart.”

When I say that, I don’t mean he doesn’t have passion for the things he makes, or the quality of work in which he’s giving out. In all fairness, I mean it in the best way.

But one thing that always bothers me about his work is that it always just seems to fall short of… I guess… put together? Essentially, all of the pieces of his work is there. The quality of the image, the tightness in his cuts, even the editing choices he makes. The sound is always impeccable, the music is always great, and, despite some acting and directing choices, the performance is mostly there. But something strange always happens when I reach the end of his videos. I feel… sort of… I don’t know… empty, I guess. It’s no fault of his, I’m sure. But when I think about why that is, and where that’s taken him, I think about what he’s had as opposed to myself. And that’s where the comparisons begin.

Now, I won’t try to tell you that I feel that my work is in any way, shape, or form superior to his… mostly, because it’s not. But I will say that when I step back and reflect on some of the projects I’ve put together, I often feel a good sense of accomplishment when it comes to the story I wanted to tell… whether I delivered on a technical stand-point or not. So it’s natural for me to reflect on why.

A little background on myself:

I grew up dirt poor. And when I say dirt poor, I mean on the constant verge of homelessness. From as far back as I can remember, it was always just my mother, my sister, and myself. Sometimes living in one bedroom apartments behind the local restaurant, or in a trailer tucked away off of a dirt road. Essentially… we weren’t rich.

But hey! It happens. Not everyone can be born into privilege.

However, I grew up hard. I grew up with a strong sense of self-improvement, motivation, and the desire to always want to achieve more. A healthy competitiveness about myself that would later prove to be both a blessing and a curse. I also had a tumultuous life, skipping between new fathers, disgusting adults, and being surrounded by drugs, which is wont to happen when living in poor neighborhoods. I guess, what I’m trying to say is that I had grown up with a story to tell.

When I reflect on my friend though, things seem to be vastly different. Though his determination is grand, and his sights are zeroed in on a common goal; when I look at the life he’s had to live, I soon realize that he hasn’t quite figured out his story yet.

Born of privilege, he grew up in a quiet, suburban neighborhood. His parents had him at an age that was appropriate, financially. He has no other siblings, so he never needed to compete or compromise. Basically, he was handed his life-style. It was sort of given to him via prosperity and foresight. I’m not complaining, I envy his situation.

But it’s indicative of his work where his lack of heart has influenced his story-telling prowess. Always on the cusp of a good product, but falling just shy of great. He has no personal story to tell. He has not lived a life full of hard choices, moral disparities, or relying on his own merit and full-hardiness to survive, given there’s no backup plan.

And this is where my point lies. You see, though my friend may not have the heart in his stories or products, he has, and always will have, the resources at hand to achieve what he needs in order to further his career. It’s inherent in his way of life, and he knows no other path.

For me however… mediocrity is death. Mediocrity says, “Hey look, I know you weren’t given much; but don’t try too hard because you might not make it.” And having that kind of doubt in my life simply isn’t an option. If I happen to give up and take the easy route, I don’t have a backup plan. I don’t have an option to fall back onto. I can’t just go back to college, or ask family for money in order to start my career over again. It’s impossible. The only way to go is forward, and it’s a daunting task.

So I fight the good fight. I ask myself every day, “Did you finish this project?” “Have you looked for more work?” “Are you being ambitious enough?”

When my alarm goes off in the morning, the first thing that pops up on my screen is, “Look for work.” When I walk out of my bedroom door, I have two sticky notes hanging. One that says, “Go running today!!!,” the other says, “Look for more work.” I even carry around a notepad in my front pocket every day to write down thoughts and images that come to mind; but at the very front of the booklet I have my goals for the next 5 years written down for me to accomplish.

I remind myself every day that failure is not an option. That hard work and determination will not only work in the long run, but will also help me understand what I can endure in order to achieve the best possible product I can deliver.

Thomas Jefferson once said, “I’m a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work the more I have of it.”

Mediocrity is of no option to me, yet, despite my lack of resources, my lack of funds, and my lack of general support, it only emboldens me to work harder for the things I need.

A recent conversation I had with a friend brought me to become greatly depressed about my situation. This year, I have dedicated myself to working on two short cinematic films set for film festivals next year, as well as working on a social experiment that would coincide with one of said short films, while on top of that, I am working hard on trying to have a very personal feature film written by the end of this year, with (hopefully) a small budget to work on it with by the beginning of next year. Basically, I’m putting together a plan for the next two to three years of my life and getting my ambitious goals started.

So I asked a friend of mine, who has this beautiful idea for a short story, to update me on the goings on of this script he’s been toying around with. I told him that I’d love to go into it with him as either the director or co-director. He began by telling me how excited he was to be working with another director who asked him to write and essentially produce an entire feature film for roughly $5,000 dollars. I scoffed at the dollar amount, but I know this town and I know his determination, so it’s very possible that this could get done over the course of several weekends. Still… I had no answer about the script. So I inquired again.

He then began to tell me about his excitement for this other script he’s writing this month for a web-channel that we’ve been apart of for some time. We had *mediocre* success on it last year, not exactly garnering the views we thought we’d get, but we rationalized that it was either too long, or not funny/dark enough, or that the timing was wrong, or that we just didn’t have the right audience for it. Whatever it was, he somehow figured out the kinks of what the problem was last year, and was ridding this new script of these discrepancies. Still though… no word on our short script.

I eventually asked when he thought he’d have it written by, only to get the short answer of, “Look, my first priorities are this feature film, and this skit. After that, we’ll work on the script.” So essentially, I felt like I was getting the run around.

But the reason I felt like I was getting the run around wasn’t because of my lack of expertise, or my lack of motivation. I’m a ball of motivation, if I do say so myself. It was on his lack of respect for me or my resources at hand.

The reason I believe that is the case, is because I believe he took or takes stock in these other directors because they’ve been proven semi-successful in the past. Why though? Because of the resources they have at hand. However, their products, at least to me, are another situation of having a lack of heart upon final cut. Needless to say, I was irked, and I let him know it.

I bring this up because this is what I have to fight against. I have to fight against a lack of motivation, respect, or a general malaise about my ability to put something good together. I have no support. And hey! It’s not like I don’t have a track record or anything of starting projects and not finishing them, because I ABSOLUTELY do. I’m currently sitting on a rap parody that’s taken me at least six months to complete, when it should’ve only taken me 3 weeks. And another music video that’s been sitting on the shelf for two years, due to a lack of being able to hire a child/father duo for one shot.

But these are the exact reasons I am ever motivated to continue and push on. Because when my resources dry up, it is ultimately up to me and me alone to push forward on my projects and finish them in a satisfying and meaningful manner.

At the end of the day though, my one remaining motivating factor that drives me, pushes me forward, and keeps me going is that… I’ve got a damn good story to tell, and I won’t be satisfied telling it until I’ve made some waves, and knocked some heads. Until then, I’ll keep being ambitious, and come hell or high-water, I’ll make certain that I push past mediocrity and tell the best damn stories I can find.

Sincerely,

-Jamie