After all these years, I’m still so madly in love with you. You’re with me when I wake up, and I take your hand in mine before I go to bed each night. It’s a testament to true passion that we still have a healthy relationship after so many years, even after so many difficult moments, occasional uncertainty, and frequent financial roadblocks.
Why do I love you so much?
Indie Filmmaking, you’re best-all-around, all grown up. You’re my beloved multiple personality of development, pre-production, production, and post-production. (Let’s save the distribution talk for later.) You’re with me in the solitude of the written word. You’re always one image away in the safe-space of my imagination. You’re also right by my side during the revision process, and you travel with me to the comfort of community support during casting, rehearsals, crew hiring, and location scouting. You’re my life of the party, altruist, and confidante, all rolled into one.
Okay, about distribution. I know I’ve been harsh on this weaker side of yours. Can you blame me? I know distribution is outwardly pretty impressive, with all the wheeling, dealing, and small checks, but I’ve come to realize: distribution makes me nervous, and not in a stomach-butterfly way. The moments before a movie screening can be torturous, like a performance review at work, only with a few hundred people or more. The audience’s stares before the screening are often not affectionate, and there’s no guarantee this will change when the curtain closes. Distribution is also anal-retentive and bureaucratic, with its copyright applications, restrictions and approvals, and music cue sheets.
I love it when distribution steps out of the room and it’s just me and the rest of you. The way you ease up to me in the form of shot lists and storyboards. That sexy sound you make when I power up my editing suite. That look in your eye when you flirt with me across the room at the wrap party. You make me gasp when I’m sending an external hard drive via FedEx. You’re one sexy lady, Indie Filmmaking.
Brains, brawn, and beauty. That’s you. May we share many more years together, and may we learn to gracefully accept those moments when distribution crashes the party. She’s always the first to leave, anyway.