At the end of my daughter’s school term, just before summer break, the teacher asked her and her class to write a letter to themselves as if they were writing to their younger selves on the first day of that past school year. The idea was to be able to give advice to themselves based on what they had learned that year. I love that idea, and I thought, as my first feature is set in a kind of near future, I would do the same to myself, only I will be sending my letter to the Will Bridges about to start out on production of his first feature, All Of You — two years ago.
Hey Will, it’s me here, you, from the future, I wanted to send you some advice as I’ve just been through what you’re about to go through, and I learned a few things that I think may help you.
Firstly, I know you’re panicking, and trust me, I know how anxious you get, but I want you to know that you did it! Or you will do it. But also, I don’t want to lie to you, it will be tough. Prepping in an actors strike, moving production dates back, losing HODs, yes that’s all going to happen, and there will be times where it looks like it’s not going to happen. Like, at all.
But the good news is, you’ve got a great team with you, you and Brett picked well. Your producers are smart, boots-on-the-ground guys, and they’ve done this a million times, you’ll know this because they’ll keep telling you every time you panic in front of them yelling that it’s doomed, you’re doomed, your directing career is over before it’s even really started.
But here’s some good writing advice for you, maybe next time don’t write a script that has 25 locations in it, especially when you’ve only got 23 days to shoot it in. That’s a ball ache, and I’m sure I’m speaking for the whole crew when I say that. Rear Window, 12 Angry Men, Clerks, they were all set in one location. Just saying. Room was set in a room. I’ll stop now.
The good news, again, is that you get through it, and the movie is actually better off for it, you find some great places, and the whole crew bond over that feeling that we’re all part of some strange travelling circus, pulling up in small coastal towns en masse, and endearing ourselves to the locals with ease (some of that is not true).
But the big thing that I wanted to let you know, and I know this has been worrying you from the moment you found out you were getting the money to make this, is that you absolutely smash it with the casting. Yes, yes, yes, Brett obviously comes attached to the thing, and you know how great he is, and yes, you know how great Poots is because you’ve seen a ton of her movies, but what you don’t know — and it will be one of the highlights of your career to date — is seeing just how good they are together.
But, good tip here, don’t tell anyone, they’ll think that it’s partly down to your directing, and that’s a good thing. Now, that’s not to say this “directing actors” thing is not without its bumps. Firstly, it’s a tricky transition going from co-writing partners to director and actor with Brett. It’s a different beast, that shorthand you’ve spent years developing is not the same shorthand when talking about performance. Listen to Poots, she’s worked with a ton of actors and directors, and she knows what she’s talking about. She’ll call you. Take the call. It’s a good one.
And listen to your producers when they tell you that most actors don’t like being told that you like their other take better than the one they just did. And also, this is a big one, if you want an actor to relax in a scene, don’t ever-ever-ever tell them to “relax” just before you go for a take, it has completely the opposite effect. Sounds obvious now, sure, but when you’ve been shooting all night and your third or fourth night, common sense doesn’t always want to be your friend. You get through it though, and like I said, they’re so good a potato could probably have directed them and it would still have been magic, so just enjoy watching them perform in the moment, it’s special.
One last thing on production. Sex scenes. I know the thought of directing them makes you very uncomfortable. And you’re right to think that. It is. Very. You have now seen Brett naked. A lot. You have said to him to his face that you think he should grunt louder. Sorry. There’s no way around this. It’s your own fault for writing so many sex scenes into your script. You thought it was so grown up didn’t you, and yes, they’re important scenes so you can’t back out now. You fool. But thank god for intimacy coordinators, the best thing to happen to a movie production since rolling lunch breaks. It’s still awkward talking about how much bum you think you need to see, but at least you’re saying it to someone other than the owner of said bum, and they’re doing the investigating for you. Very helpful. Use them. You’ll feel very grown up afterwards.
And guess what, despite the days you drive home thinking you’ve messed everything up and the whole thing is crumbling around you, and it’s all your fault, you do make it through, you make a movie, and the things you felt in the moment with the actors are up there on screen. You find the movie, the real movie, in the edit with your — I’ll only ever work with her on everything I do — editor, Vic. And you get that movie into TIFF and LFF and Apple wants to buy it and put it in actual movie theaters all over the place. It’s on in your hometown where you grew up, and it’s on in your hometown where you live now, and there’s posters advertising it on actual streets.
So stay strong Will, that promise you made to yourself when you were a teenager about following your dream and sticking with it no matter what, you do it. Now get to work. You’ve got a fucking movie to make.
Will Bridges is a writer and director who won an Emmy for co-writing the beloved Black Mirror episode “USS Callister.”
