Hi, everyone. I’ll be doing a little blogging for IFP from now on. A little background on myself: When I lived in Florida, I wrote, directed, produced, edited, and acted in a no-budget comedy called New Low, which played in the inaugural NEXT <=> section at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival and got me put on Filmmaker Magazine’s 25 New Faces of Independent Film the same year. Since then, I’ve made millions of dollars and now live in a mansion whose foundation is literally built on the backs of indigenous poor people. Well, I guess that’s a slight exaggeration: I live just above the poverty line in a poorly ventilated apartment in Los Angeles. Tomato, to-mah-to.

I’m currently gearing up for my second feature, We’re A Wasteland, which I wrote, and will direct, act in, and probably edit. Wasteland is being produced by Adele Romanski (however you just pronounced that in your head was wrong), a real firecracker of a producer who I was lucky enough to meet at Sundance, and Brad Petrigala, who is also the manager I got from my Sundance-related exposure. Be careful about too much Sundance exposure, by the way. You know, because of the U-V… nevermind.

“But,” you say, “why are you here, telling me all this, you skinny loser?” To which I’ll reply, “I’m trying to gain weight, so I’d appreciate your support.” To answer your actual question, though, Wasteland was selected for the Emerging Narratives section in IFP’s 2011 Project Forum, and I was also chosen to be a part of IFP’s first-ever Emerging Visions program in October… most likely because they were so impressed with how much of a skinny loser I am (it takes a lot of effort).

Because I live in Los Angeles instead of New York, my experiences with IFP have so far been unfortunately limited to those two events, so IFP is quickly becoming “that organization that sends me emails about all of the cool things they’re doing just as a big tease.” Just like my ex-girlfriend, it seems like they’re telling me about their exciting new lives with some guy named “Kevin” just to torture me.

Still, I’m excited for this blog: it’ll give me a chance to share my experiences as I get my first film with a budget off the ground, give me a chance to communicate with other filmmakers, young and old, and provide me with the perfect soapbox to go on a ton of racist, sexist, homophobic rants (only two of these things will actually happen, but you’ll have to wait and see which).

To start things off, I’ll tell a story about something that happened to me recently. I was obviously incredibly lucky to get to be a part of Sundance, and that’s opened pretty much every door that would have otherwise been dead-bolted shut forever, due to what people who defend me to others call “personality flaws.” One of these doors has led to a couple offers to direct projects that aren’t my own.

The first time was shortly after Sundance, when I was approached about shooting the adaptation of a novel. I read the novel and liked it, so, of course, the project immediately fell apart. Perhaps I was like Lenny in Of Mice And Men, I wondered (but, just the part about him being an overgrown idiot). “C’est la vie,” I said… which I’m pretty sure is Latin for “That was a real kick in the crotch.”

The second time happened very recently. I was asked if I wanted to shoot a script that had most of its financing ready to go. I got excited: I could have finally stopped slogging away on my “passion project,” whatever that means, and totally sold out for a relatively small amount of money. It had always been my dream. So, I read the script, which I would describe as The Social Network of movies that are like Weekend at Bernie’s. It seemed to be the scientifically exact opposite of my voice and the type of movies I wanted to make. I was bummed out: I couldn’t put my name on something I didn’t love, and I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to make it work. It’d be like if the school nerd had to give a presentation on why it’s great to have huge muscles and a hot girlfriend; he might be able to get through it without having an asthma attack, but nobody would buy it.

Still, should I take the job? We are in a recession, for god’s sake (or, are we not? It’s like, “Make up your mind already, economy, or should I say ‘Ross and Rachel,’ will-they-or-won’t-they, haha lol what’s this gun doing in my mouth”). I talked it over with my manager, and we decided that I’d rather continue to be broke than make a movie that might change the type of career I’d have. Sure, I could become a director-for-hire and make mediocre comedies that are easily forgotten, but I want to make my mediocre comedies that are easily forgotten.

So, I decided to pass; to continue my life of going out to restaurants with friends, not ordering anything, and then asking everyone at the table if they’re planning on taking that home with them. Luckily, things have been moving along with Wasteland, though. If things continue at the same pace as they have been, I’ll be able to make the project I really care about, which is more than I could ask for.

It might not be my dream of becoming a complete sell-out hack as quickly as possible, but it’s definitely not a bad alternative.