Ethical Storytelling, or, Why I Did It

A couple of weeks ago I participated in a panel to benefit the lovely folks at Exhale, who helped me a very great deal during the production of my documentary.  I was asked to be on the panel because of the documentary (explained here), as, having put it out there and since it’s been doing pretty well, already won a couple of awards (/gloat) I was something of an expert on what it’s like to put an extremely personal story in a public space.  I hadn’t really thought of that, but the truth is, it is enlightening.

A lot of people ask me why I did it, why even bother doing something so personal so soon after it had happened, and especially letting the whole Internet in on your little secret.  Well, I suppose I had a lot of reasons.  I’ve had a few accusations of attention-seeking, a comment which I find awkward considering how mind-bendingly painful the whole process was; my TGWTG co-contributors can attest, I hardly spoke to anyone for the year between Kickassia and Suburban Knights because I was so wrapped up in production, and so overwhelmed and run down when I had down time. Of the new folks this year, the only people I had ever interacted with in the slightest was Lupa, and that only right before the shoot because by that point, the doc was done and I could finally decompress.

But it is painful; awkward, it makes me cringe. I can’t stand to watch it.  There are sound problems with the DVD I need to fix that I haven’t gotten around to because I just can’t stand to look at the thing.  This pressure is NOTHING compared to the pressure of the production; if being so vulnerable and open wasn’t enough, then there was the friction with the producers, the difficulty dealing with some of the subjects, the constant arguments with the babydaddy (we’ll call him Vindaloo, cause I’m racist like that).  It’s not that I’m ashamed of it; far from it, I think we did pretty well for the time and budget we had.  But I can’t stand watching it; there’s just too much me in there.

Pile all this on top of knowing how genuinely unempathetic some folks can be.  In a way, this really reinforced my resolve in terms of “why even do it in the first place?” – some people see vulnerability and attack it just because it’s there; I’ve had people say nasty things about me that clearly don’t give a fuck about the subject of abortion; they just see a vulnerability, and they attack it, because it makes them feel good.  They aren’t sociopaths, I might go out on a limb and say they aren’t really even bad people, but they are just that sad. And they definitely throw this vitriol at ladies who are much less thick-skinned than I.

So, why even do it in the first place?

Well, at first, it was to fill a gap; I saw a bunch of documentaries about abortion, none of them were from the point of view of someone who had one.  They had all been made by men.  And sorry, men, it’s all well and good for you to have an opinion on the matter, but you can’t really understand what it’s like because it’s a situation that will NEVER apply to you.  I did eventually find one called “Speak Out: I Had an abortion”, but it was less a documentary and more a series of testimonies.  I wanted to make a documentary with a beginning, middle and end, so I did.

But bringing it back to that concept of “ethical storytelling” which I learned more about at the panel, I think it was more that.  I wanted to do it to tell a story; I wanted people to see all sides of what it feels like, people who regret it, people who don’t, why they feel how they feel, etc.  This was important to me because it’s so common. I’m not exceptional; most of my closest female friends have had abortions, too (even the lesbian. wtf!).  It’s like when I hear friends saying “Well, I don’t know anyone personally who’s had one” (You do. Several.)  or similarly “I don’t know any rape victims, thankfully” (again, trust me, you do). It’s a common thing that no one feels comfortable talking about. That is why you don’t know.

The lady at the panel described “ethical storytelling” as sharing a story, perhaps a charged personal story, like one of rape, domestic abuse, abortion, in a truthful way, without a slant for an agenda.  Sure, I suppose “understand this thing better” could be considered an agenda, but in the case of abortion, without the intent of being on either a “pro-life” or “pro-choice” side.  Of course I think abortion should be legal, to me that’s not even up for debate. That is the farthest thing from my mind; if there’s any agenda, it would be to demystify these things that people feel so uncomfortable talking about, and that’s why I’ve been so open about it.  Yes, I’m kind of a public figure. Yes, I’ve got an audience and a future to consider, all of which will react differently and not perhaps favorably.  But this is something I don’t really wobble on.  I think knowing you’re in the right, regardless of what society or the weaker of mind might say, gives one some resolve that they might not feel otherwise, especially when speaking of something so sensitive.

The scary thing about it is once your story is out there, people will do with it what they will. Some will be inspired by it, others disgusted, others still will use it as an object of ridicule.  When you put your story out there, you have to be okay with this. No one will see your story in the same way, or even in the same way you do, and if you can’t accept that, then perhaps you’re not yet ready to share it.  I think I shared a part of my story (and only a part) as a method of coming to terms, and to be honest, I think it works. I don’t carry the pain with me that I did a year ago, or the regret.  I’m at peace with pretty much everything, the production, the  outcome, the reception (did I mention there might have been awards? /gloat…) even how my relationship with Vindaloo ended up.

I feel worlds away from that place now. New city, new relationship, I feel like a completely different person, with this thing behind me but not in that same place.  I don’t think I could say that had it not been for the story sharing.  The relationship is still quite new,  though he certainly knew about all this madness a long time before I met him because of my blog.  A long time before I even knew who he was, in fact (life is weird like that, at least for me). This was something that made me nervous in bringing up with anyone I might date, it having very much to do with painfully toxic relationship that was not with him.  What a fun thing to get into, huh?  You know about this, I know about this, plus God knows how many strangers! 

And what can I say about him, or anyone else who is a decent person?  For every one venomous insecure little asshat there are dozens of open, caring people out there. That isn’t to say that he thinks this (or any of the other little unsavory life experiences I have behind me) is awesome; just that he’s open to hearing it. He doesn’t shame, he doesn’t judge, and that, I think, is the best you can hope from anyone, and is also the best thing they can give.

(gloat the third; he is awesome. He makes me so goddamn happy. /end gloat)

It took my mom a long time to screw up the courage to watch it, but I was careful not to push. When she did, she was surprisingly calm about it, stating that it wasn’t at all what she expected (and meant that in a good way) and that she was glad that I did it.

In the doc Vindaloo and I don’t really go into specifics- we explain that it happened, when it happened, that it sucked, that we both felt differently about it, but not really what went down.  A part of me considered putting down in words what actually happened, and include that in the public space, but I think I realized that part of the reason I felt alright with the doc, no matter what people do with it, is that I didn’t give any more than I felt I could lose.  And the real details of what happened, our relationship, those are the parts I don’t want to let go.  This, I think, is an important lesson of story sharing; always keep something for yourself. Always.  But do not be ashamed, do not push it on people lest they react in a way that you might not be okay with, and don’t give more than you can afford to lose.

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What An Asshole

This entry doesn’t have much of a point. I usually try to have a point.  Today, fuck it. I might get my ass handed to me for this one, but oh well, I’m almost done with this school anyway.

One of the “perks” of going to the “top film school in the fucking universe” is that we get “industry professionals” to come in and tell us how little we know.  So yesterday in my [CLASS WITHHELD], we had this guy come in who is, admittedly, a very successful [SUBJECT] director.  We’ll call him Manly McAsshole.  He was basically an “if they mated” between Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs and The Situation. You just know he’s stared at himself in the mirror saying “I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me so hard” a time or two.  Then he takes off his armpit-stained wifebeater and flexes.

One of the first and most consistent points he had was how little we knew.  Fine.  We’re students, that’s why we’re here, to learn, and we don’t have as much industry experience as you do.  But he tried to use examples of personality, do you make mistakes?  He asks one girl what time she got up this morning, assuming she probably got up around noon.  She got up at eight to go to ballet class.  Was her head in the game, he asks? Yes, very much so.  Bad example, he moves onto another guy.  This guy hadn’t slept since the day before. Another bad example.  But the point is that he works hard, way harder than we do! And his work is important, because he often works with [NAME DROP BIG RAPPER] and [NAME DROP CRAZY BITCH].  When we are “kids” we can get away with making mistakes.  Because, you know, when you’re twenty you’re incapable of making mistakes that can have repercussions for the rest of your life.

This pissed me off because he assumed everyone in the room was a) an undergrad with b) no life experience. My friend, Matt, sitting next to me, used to teach in England.  He’s lived in several countries, and speaks several languages.  More than half the room were grad students. Some almost his age. One dumb bitch that I know of has children (to clarify, she’s not a dumb bitch because she has kids, she’s a dumb bitch because she’s a dumb bitch).

I… I just can’t even put it into words. My words are not aptly describing what an asshole this guy is.  I am frustrated with my literary impotence.

Another thing he did was congratulate himself on what a dumb, annoying fuck he was when he was in college. Firstly, he was too dumb to get into USC without getting his [ESTABLISHED HOLLYWOOD BIGSHOT] mother and [NAMEDROP PRODUCER] to write him recommendation letters.  Goddamn, what an entitled piece of shit.  Didn’t claw his way up from the no-connections bottom like we did.  He didn’t get along with any authority figures.  He watched weird shit and Fellini and shunned the Hollywood elite, and made weird fucking short films that everyone hated because they didn’t “get it”.  Not because, you know, they sucked.

He then proceeded to shit on his classmates who were more successful than he was.  This guy may have success, but he “makes shitty movies.”  This guy might have directed Brick, which was “alright” bit everything else he’s done is “complete shit.” But most of all, we should worship this motherfucker, because he “tells it like it is.”  And we won’t get that from anyone else in this town.

Yeah, “like it is” from your white male entitled Hollywood perspective, you useless piece of shit.

[NAMEDROP]

He talked for over two hours.  Matt and I kept looking at each other in horror, starting to wonder if it would end.  When we were finally, mercifully, allowed to go on a break, we were stunned into silence for a while, stumbling to the elevator before I blurted, “What an asshole!”  We bitched for a long time, walking away from the cinematic arts building for no other reason then to get away from the stink of Asshole.  The Situation, if you will.

I realized two things:

1) I couldn’t remember anyone I’d met who’d graduated from my program who wasn’t an entitled prick.

2) His success was contingent on his confidence and egotism.  A lot of people probably hated him for it.  But some people are drawn to arrogance, like moths to a flame, and eat that shit up.  He wasn’t that talented.  His videos are okay, but he had never done anything great.  His videos were firmly adequate at best. Firmly.

3) The entire class, especially aforementioned dumb bitch, ate that shit up.

My friend Matt does not like “USC people”.  One time I tried to get him to explain it to me, and he had a difficult time with it.  I get it now, though.  Dumb Bitch brought up the fact that each individual class at USC cost us nearly 500$ a pop.  I don’t think it’s quite that severe, but it’s still a sickening thought to think that not only for that money I was sat and condescended-to by an arrogant asshole who gets by in this business by virtue of his entitlement, but that I paid for it! Dumb Bitch was very happy with this thought; she considered this particular class “well worth the investment.”

I knew I was probably not going back to USC next semester, as it’s just to finish up critical studies requirements to get the expensive piece of paper (and I already have an expensive piece of paper in bloody cinema studies).  I don’t want to invest in the school anymore; I want to buy property while the gettin’s good.  My directing professor for my thesis, who is actually respected and successful without being an entitled prick whose mommy already works in the industry, told me that there wouldn’t be any harm in packing my things up and heading out and pimping my film rather than staying.  But this, oh god this, this confirmed it. I felt like Matt and I were the only people in the room who were aware of the tremendous asshole in front of you, god’s gift to the Jersey Shore. In the words of the great Will Ferrell in one of his greatest performances, “I feel like I’m taking crazy pills!”

I don’t mean to seem like I got nothing from USC; I got plenty. Plenty! I don’t know if it was worth the money, but I don’t regret it. That said, I’m done, if for no other reason I don’t want to get the brainworms like some of these people ostensibly have.  What an asshole.

Watch out, New York.

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Some Internet existentialism- Internet passion

Warning: the following is an analogy:

In sound recording, both softwares and hardwares, there is a device called a limiter which compresses sound that goes over a certain frequency and volume.  It distorts the quality of the sound a bit but also makes sure it doesn’t peak.  I think the human brain has something similar in regard to one’s own ability to understand their own scope; how else could celebrities function? Known and adored by millions?  There is something you just kinda have to tune out about ideas like that; even when I first got a facebook group with some 200 photos of screencaps in it, carefully and lovingly selected. My friends took on the emotional burden of being freaked out; I just ignored it.

I am amazed at the response of support in the last few days for financial help to get our film out to festivals; what it was like is a different blog post altogether, but the fact that so many people displayed their generosity, both here and before I was filming, kinda puts my brain-limiter to the maximum to the point where my brain shorts out and starts looking at shiney fun things, like puppy, or Hyperbole and a Half. There is something in my deeply insecure brain that tells me, “the work I do online does not warrant this show of support. I do not deserve this.” Granted, I was very good at getting DVDs out in a timely fashion (albeit I did run out of covers for some, so some were just DVD-in-envelope which I found out after the fact might break in transit… sheeeyit) but when I have to print out shipping labels and see the reach I have, even for my extremely modest little Internet cewebrity, it is a bit overwhelming, just a touch.  Today I mailed to Austrailia, Japan, Singapore, Germany, the Netherlands, the UK and all over the US, just to name a few.  Despite the creation of the Facebook Page a few weeks ago I still have almost 700 un-responded-to friend requests, by this point out of sheer laziness and a little bit of guilt.  I think that little bit of guilt is what tinges everything I do when something positive or supportive comes my way as a result of my presence on the Internet; this little voice that says “I do not warrant this.”

In the negativity, the opposite is true.  I stopped reading the comments on the TGWTG site a long time ago because of the negativity. Idiot boys making comments on my appearance is one thing, but when people passionately pronounce their disdain for me; I don’t understand that either. I never meant to invoke passion in people, not by way of Internet review, anyway.  I don’t understand why it would come up; it’s just a little review of The Fifth Element, or My Little Pony, or whatever, for fucks sake.  Mild disinterest or dislike, sure, but passionate hatred? I feel like I’m failing a little bit if that continues to be the case with some viewers.  I’ve tried very hard to distance myself from the stylings of some of my colleagues, who seem to get off on the passion they invoke in others, hatred, support, or otherwise.

Dislike or disinterest is one thing; I’d say hatred makes up a small minority, as does obsessive stalker (which, let’s face it, I’d be even more uncomfortable with).  The majority of what I’ve seen is pleasant, sane, good-natured, level-headed and supportive.  I suppose what I’m trying to say is that, even though I asked for it, I’m still a bit shocked at the support I’ve gotten and the interest in the film, especially given the uncomfortable nature of the film that I made, but I’m not ungrateful.  One of the biggest hurdles I still have is learning to accept compliments and support when they’re given to me.

If I mailed you a DVD, I hope I don’t disappoint you; I had a very talented crew working for me. If you want one, check out this entry. If you do have one, feel free to show it to your friends, family, organizations that might be interested, but DO NOT post it online, as not only is that a copyright violation, it could screw over our chances of getting into the higher-up festivals. But using footage for fair use purposes i.e. criticism is obviously fine, as is writing up reviews (in fact, please do!)  I’m trying to be better about interacting with people I meet through the Internet and responding to them in kind; it’s all been a process of upping the threshold on that limiter.

But to anyone who has shown support for this, thank you.

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And now the real work begins…

Greetings from the submitting-to-film-festival-front.

In regard to the documentary we just finished (explained here), I wish I could say the expensive part is over.  Well, I suppose the really expensive part is over, in a manner of speaking, but pimping a film, especially a low budget thing like this, to the point where people see it other than like my mom and the Nella (actually my mom hasn’t even seen it yet), well here’s how that works.

There ain’t much money in documentary; that we know.  Very, very rarely do people turn a profit on these things, especially with short docs.  But you can build a career for yourself, and you can also draw attention to the subject you’re making the thing about.  Hell, look at how “going green” exploded after An Inconvenient Truth came out.  Granted that was a feature. Starring Al Gore.  Anyway!

Conventional wisdom says that pretty much any independent film needs to go through festivals.   This is the first film I’ve made that has a shot at getting into big name festivals and actually being seen by people (ya know, besides the Internet), but not knowing where we’ll premiere or where we’ll be accepted, basically the plan now is to submit to as many festivals as we can.

Each festival has different submission prices, ranging from around thirty bucks to a hundred, depending on the festival and how late you’re submitting it.  Seattle cleaned me out at about $80.  LAFF and Edinburgh FF came out to another $100, which was donated by Ritvik.  I want to submit to two more before this round is over at the end of the month, but I am clean wiped out, as this is turning into a rather expensive ordeal as I have another twenty or so in the pipe.  I thought I could do another push to the Internet for fundraising, but realized I don’t have anything of value left to sell! (Hell most of what I hocked last time was nonsense).  Nothing, save perhaps the movie.

We finally have a copy of it to make screeners for festivals, although we are NOT allowed to put the thing online yet.  If I ever do, it’ll be after next year’s Oscar season.  But I know a lot of people have contacted me out of interest of seeing it, so assuming there is interest out there, I think I have a way to fundraise a bit more and still stay at least in a legal grey area.

For anyone out there willing to donate $15 or more to my paypal link here, I will mail you a screener.  In the donation note, include your name and address. It won’t be fancy; just something I burned off my Macbook, but it will be a screener you can show to friends, family and colleagues but NOT put up on the Internet. Again, this isn’t my bidding, I do NOT own the copyright to this film.  If you put any of it online, you will get the hammer of the University of Southern California’s wrath.  But everyone I’ve talked to about this film from the Internets, including some people who ended up IN the film, have been really super cool, so hopefully we won’t run into any problems here.  To make this clear, if it goes up online, I won’t get in trouble. You will. I’m not losing anything if it does go up online, and believe me, it’s not my rule.

I can’t thank you guys enough for all your help and support in making this thing; no way I could have done it without you.  Y’all are the bomb diggity.a

And as for us getting our asses to the festivals if we were to get accepted into a competition, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

Disabling the link for now- sorry!

EDIT: International people, I can ship to you through media mail!  Just throw in an extra few bucks to get through the customs and whatnot.

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