The month leading up to Berlin’s press announcement of its roster for the 2011 Film Festival, was crackpot nutbags for us. I went into hiding. No joke. I hung out in London at Zoe’s flat for the entire month. I wrote my last blog in her living room, while I was on the “Berlin hush”. I hid in every Gallery and Museum that city holds. Just plum stayed outta the States. Why, because it’s a nasty kinda horrendous to withhold information from people who care about your plight and more importantly participated in your film’s survival. But we were on le’ grandest ‘hush” of all. We had to mum the drum, terrified of news getting leaked and “Yelling” getting the Dieter boot.

Around December 12th, we started checking the wire at o’dark thirty. We didn’t know the announcement day, we only knew it was that week. We got daily grief counseling letters, because another top tier festival announced the week prior. When Yelling to the Sky wasn’t on that list, Billy Mulligan and I, were roundhouse tackled with “What Happened?!” Bins of emails deducing ‘Yelling got the gas-face.’ (One journalist, Tambay at Shadow and Act, calmly intuited more would be revealed.)

Mahoney & DP Reed Morano - Photo by Andre Lambertson

The advantage to stages of “hush” is, the circumstance, whatever it may be, gets to harvest privately. There’s no external clutter of unsolicited advice. There’s this unpredictable-indescribable phase of quiet. A most bizarre gift. Up until the moment info goes public, on production level or press level, whereby the topic fully becomes up for grabs.

As is, with the [film] itself.

We make this film, and spend a minimum-average of twelve months, walking the Earth holding this [private] knowing before its release.

Once the film is let loose, it no longer belongs to [we] who nurtured it.

It isn’t ours to defend or justify. It is ours only — to offer. It is ours simply — to share.

Once that “hush” is broken, once our internal grows external, what’s a filmmaker to do?

We most likely begin the what ifs. What if, the contents of this film are acutely personal? What if, we reflected life’s flaws through an aim of non perfect execution? What if, our team gave everything and the receivers-receive merely a portion? What if, a few of the topics we chose to speak on aren’t desirable to hear. What if, the pencil pushers try to say “no one buys tickets for this particular protagonist”? What if, the marketers try to say “no one globally cares about–these people?”.

Or WHAT IF, you create from a place of an intrinsic “hush”? What if, when the Industry hurls statistics, you ignore ever last word and move according to the instincts you got when you wrote the 1st word, found the 1st nickel, hired the 1st cast, found the 1st crew, locked the 1st locale, did the 1st fitting, shot the 1st frame, squawked the 1st “action”, grinned the 1st “cut”, checked the 1st gate, made the 1st day, cut the 1st rough, had the 1st screening and   finished   your   1st   film.

The day before we locked picture, my team and I, took pause and decided what if, we continue moving to a “Universal hush” and offer up the 1st American film about a mixed race-teen-female-protagonist. However much of that does, or doesn’t translate.

On that note Catt Mamas and Catt Daddies, can we stop the f*cking train!

How’s about we spend five seconds bowing down to every gottdamn Indie filmmaker, w o r l d w i d e 2010 who made it to: deliverables. Whether we know or hear their name. Whether or not we connect to their content. Let us bow down to their survival in the face of an Industry that does not readily support independent-off the beaten-left of the dial-purposefully non formulaic-creative expression.

Would you like to know how many backs I stood on, to crawl here?!

Let us go to the beginning of motion capture. Buyer beware, Muybridge wasn’t initially aiming to crack the cosmic code and present a new medium of artistry. Equine enthusiast, Gov’ Stanford was in a five year debate (of which my belly smells, a “gamble”, a “wager” if ya will). So Homeboy, hires Muybridge to detect if, indeed all four legs of le’ horsey come off the ground when in stride and ta-da, there’s the birth of film as we know it.

If we factor the entire stretch of time from the day Muybridge shot that 1st frame, up to the present;

How many filmmakers lived their whole life, without a lick of resources to supplement their vision?

How many filmmakers with badass exceptional non linear concepts were discarded?

Zoe Kravitz (SWEETNESS) & Director Victoria Mahoney on set

How many filmmakers of flavor were treated invisible?

How many filmmakers lost gigs due to perceptions of gender capability?

How many filmmakers kindhearted, quit from being bullied by non creatives?

How many filmmakers drowned in utter obscurity, asphyxiating on their talent as it went unacknowledged?

Counting from 1877 to 2010. How many filmmakers went un-nourished?

I fight to the motherf*cking tooth because my being is a recipe carved somewhat, from that list. I stitch my wounds and mind my footing with micro awareness to how many carcasses it took, long before 1877, to build a path.

Here’s to 1st time filmmakers, may we thrive amidst all the hush.

If you’re headed for competition in Germany this February, I tip my hat to you and your team. Look for me. Feel comfortable to say Hello, and tell me the particular of “why” you fought. So that later on, perhaps years from now, if our vision starts to go and we’re heading down a dark road–I can remind you of your “why” and you can remind me of mine.

Paz, Victoria

How are you holding up?

You know what got me from start to finish intact and in love with the process?” I’ll tell you in no uncertain terms — it was an unexpected gesture at each turn that restored fuel.

For example;

In meeting crew; Reed Morano (DP) sent me an email in the middle of the night (3:30 am) saying, “I know how to do it, we just….” She had solved the Rubik’s Cube on a specific light wish I held, to subtly show a difference in our protagonist internal and external life, reflecting connected polarities throughout. A good number of folks in meetings before her, said it was not possible (for varying logical reasons; budgetary, technical or otherwise). But Reed, never said, “No”. She dove headlong into discovering a solution for what I emotionally-thematically desired.

In location scout; I was fixed on [2] characters running across a [6] lane highway. I mean, properly fixated. We’re all standing on the side of a highway at a location that’s beyond butter-beyond perfect for the scene’s needs. Except for the ole “how do we safely film it, how do we physically get cast+crew across an active [6]lane highway with camera rolling?” Debates, discussions, impossibility upon improbability. Then Alfonso Trinidad (Assoc Prod) quiet as kept, suggests, “Vic, if we…then we can…” And we did! We got the life, tension and movement the scene needed with safety and not only permission but assistance from the state.

In pre-pro; We had to cast, then seal contracts for [17] speaking roles. Eyde Belasco (Casting Director) offered calm in the storms; plural — there were far too many to list. Let it be known, Eyde was the very first crew member, to jump onto the film. Without a cent in place.

In pre-pro: We were advised around [10] wee days out from filming, that our [principal portion] of financing fell through, gone bye-bye. We had to shut production down and went dark for [5] days. I get a phone call from Kelly McGehee (production designer), where she says, “Vicky, we believe in you and the story you’re trying to tell. We (Dept heads) all spoke and we’ve decided to come to work tomorrow morning. We’ll see you at the office.” And they did; every single one of them. Without fuss or muss they, as a collective unit–cemented loyalty.

In pre-pro; I was obsessed with this bush we needed for the logistics of a shot. Zach Thrun (location manager) found this house with an Anish Kapoor looking right on, beyond truthful to the environment bush. We’re nearing shoot day of that location, and the home owners are still MIA. Zach has back up upon back up with other deals ready for signature, if need be. He continues pursuing the MIA homeowners and to the eaking-creaking wire, not only gets the house for our budgeted cost, but the homeowners offer to let our actors use their facilities if needed.

In principal; We had a situation (as ya do) in one dept. New people were brought in [2] days after principal. Nia R. Hooper (Costume Designer) and I had at length detailed intricate physical and existential work on each character toward why they wore what they wore and why they didn’t. I had a kooky-arse idea of connecting primary family members to an element, whereby that element would dictate their color palate. Not to mention we did something really fun and out there with two particular characters that stemmed from my teen years. Nia had done her homework in complex-layered advance. When we had the hiccup in a neighboring dept, for the sake of the film, Nia handed over her entire “costume plot-pro” program.

In principal; There’s a specific hair/make up thing implored to share info that carries throughout the flick. Cynthia Alvarez (Key Hair) and Julianne Laney (Key Make up), had to manage a dozen changes every single day of our [18] bullet train days, because we shot “for locale”. We snatched every shot in a locale then jammed onto the next. Actors+crew were constantly flip flopping story arcs, emotions +days within seconds of another. Cynthia bounced our characters between looks with pin point precision as did Julianne.

In post-pro; A day after I learned the [post portion] of financing fell through, gone bye-bye, dog ate the homework style. I get a random, unrelated phone call from Billy Mulligan (UPM). I tell him of the film’s current money woes and he promptly sits with me to strategize a rescue plan. In [9] business days he has [6] digits o’ cash ready and in place. Inside of [9] business days, he found money to complete our film. As every person on planet Earth, who ever made and Indie let alone is actively making an Indie right now knows, not many films recover from losing financing. Through no shortage of bloodletting we survived TWO losses. Having gone dark for a week in pre and for [2] months in post! The message in the lens cap is “DO NOT GIVE UP FIGHTING!” Instead, re-align yourself with like minded fighters, who above all–know how and where to get money!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If we recovered, it means it is possible. No matter how severe the situation does NOT permit financial loss to rob an ounce of your tenacity.

In post-pro; during the stretch of going dark, where the film was drowning. No joke. Sinking to a slow death. I get a phone call from Ged Dickersin (LP) asking how I am, if I need anything. The film was in serious trouble, of not getting needs met in the optimum form it deserved. Ged started asking me once a day. “How are you doing, do you need anything, can I help?” Ged’s job officially ended at principal – months prior –  but he laced his bootstraps and walked beside me and Billy; extending knowledge, connections and competence in post pro, as he had in pre and principal.

In editing: We had to start all over from scratch. Reworked an entire 1st assembly from scratch. Bill Henry (editor) came on and combed every lick of footage in the bin, top to bottom, learning it like the back of his hand. He and I worked 16 hr days, 7 day weeks, for weeks on end. He worked those hours because he fell in love with the footage, the story, the actors-characters, and the possibility of shaping something special. Bill adopted the same ethic his co-workers in pre+principal on this film lived and breathed.

In composing: Another area where I was pining for duality, needing two sounds to meet, pick a fight, beat the ish outta each other then make peace. David Wittman (Composer) never-ever relented on getting this acute piece that exemplifies the story, beyond imagination.

Like all others who have cobbled a film to close using dental floss and band aids, I literally have an anecdote a day for each crew member spanning the entire duration of getting our film made. (Spacial restrictions prevent me from simultaneously scribbling about the cast. I’ll unload some “cast” gems in another blog).

In closing, yes–Filmmaking, is a “we” thing.

If you’re banging along alone–pause, catch your breath, take stock of your surroundings, identify the crisis, name the solution then get H-E-L-P.

If ever, the help you’re receiving is not enough, race at top speed toward additional support.

Unapologetically, link arms with people who will not only show up in a pinch but who, in the face of exhaustion–ceremoniously whip out a shovel and start digging alongside you, not stopping until you’ve secured; a  path  out  of  the  ditch.

Next post, I’ll share some doozies about the sales rep dance…until then, stay the course, and keep your seat in the saddle.

I don’t care what media or platform one’s heart screams for, actually getting to offer up our films to an audience is what I’m discussing. In whatever shape, form or desire that translates to you. I did NOT make this film for my Aunt Edna and her best gals to watch on a tattered sheet in the basement every third Tuesday. (Full Disclosure: I don’t have an Aunt Edna but she’s been my go to hyperbole forever and I don’t see why I have to part with her now;  she’s been ever-so contextually generous to me).

You better believe, I’m still in some kinda best record race. Except now “the race” is with writing deadlines and one day tech scouts, lunatic production schedules, inane two take maximum coverage and getting every single shot of a ninety-eight page script within an eighteen day shoot, editing sixteen hour days for seven day weeks, doing DI in five days, sound mix in five days, ADR in ten hours and so on…

Here’s a secret I learned; the reason the above mentioned is possible is because you seek out and link up with people who are in a “personal best race” of their own! Build your production team, crew and cast with that nugget and not a shard less. “Yelling” had the most back breaking, whatever it takes, long haul team imaginable.

The stretch of high-octane-get-the-launch-of-your-indie-film-needs-met-mad-dash that occurs after picture lock is like a nutter’s free for all supermarket grab. An atomic buzzer sounds and you have to race a massive sprawl, tossing whatever items you can into your cart before the buzzer goes again. (In the next few blogs I’ll share some anecdotes.)

Here’s to you fellow riff raff, outlaws, kamikazes,renegades, geekaloids, love of the game’rs. When the walls come tumbling down while the floor drops from below you as the ceiling crashes upon your skull, fight likethe dying with every fibre of your being to protect your film’s survival.

Tap into the original thrust of whatever initially propelled you to tell this story. Look your arse whoopings straight in the eye. Fight fair. Don’t stop swinging until you know your opposition by name. Then make peace and move on to the next–awaiting battle. As you go, remain willing; willing to bleed, willing to starve, willing to ache, willing to soar, willing to carry the load, willing to learn, willing to make mistakes, willing to say “I don’t know”, willing to say, “I’m absolutely certain”, willing to chart new waters, willing to find new land, willing to reshape the wheel, willing to play hard and steady, willing to love every ounce of the ride, willing to go the distance, willing to weather storms and willing against all odds to make it to the end, whatever that means to you.

I’m thrilled you and I’ll have a yearlong walk on this IFP BLOG, where we can find our footing together.