Repercussions of Glorified Grind

I had shingles three times before I turned 26. It forced me to face the realities of burning the candle at both ends — it's not the best way to work.

But I have to constantly remind myself of that.

Somehow, I didn't get sick during the production of I Really Love My Husband. I did, however, have a panic attack. I'm also feeling a long tail of burnout, occasionally falling into depression, fighting off fatigue.

It's easy to just accept that we need to sacrifice our physical and mental health when making a movie. We glorify the grind in filmmaking. It's like, if you're not basically killing yourself, are you even trying?

I do feel camaraderie when sharing stories from the trenches, like when writer-director Michael Vlamis shared on the No Film School podcast that he got a stye in his eye during production of Crossword, which was a big deal because he was also the lead of the movie.

But we need to acknowledge that high stress will cost you, and hurt your film.

As someone who easily falls back into the habit of grinding (I'm writing this on an airplane because I can't sleep or maybe I feel guilty that I'm not doing work), I'm fascinated by filmmakers who are embracing a more gentle, humane way to approach filmmaking.

This fascination is actually what inspired my upcoming workshop (more on that later). I've spent the last months reflecting on the process of making I Really Love My Husband, exploring how others approach sustainable filmmaking.

One filmmaker I came across was Raven Whisnant, founder of New 32. I’m drawn to the ethos of her and the New 32 team's approach to indie filmmaking:

"Your best art doesn't come from exhaustion. It's not just about taking a nap or grabbing a coffee, either. It's about giving your creativity space to breathe, prioritizing your energy and mental health so that your work can truly flourish."

She talks the talk but also walks the walk: Raven took a few months off when she was reaching that saturation point. (New 32 also just launched an educational platform called Indie Empire, in Beta now).

Despite the stupidly (or brilliantly) compressed timeline of I Really Love My Husband, here are three things I did to ground myself during prep and production:

• A big thing: Be together as people — I would spend time with my team doing stuff outside of working on the movie: a Zankou Chicken picnic, a wine night, and in Bocas, finding time to snorkel and drink piña coladas. 

• A medium thing: A few days a week, I went to hot yoga early and forced myself to meditate (or nap) before class started. Knowing we'd be filming in Panama's intense heat, I mentally justified the yoga time by telling myself, I need to do this to be able to direct in the heat, so doing this hot yoga prepares me for that.

• A little thing: Before bed, even during production, I read something that couldn’t be more different than the movie. Most nights I fell asleep after reading just one page, but it still helped me wind down.

These were things that forced me to unplug during these intense working sprints. I knew deadlines were charging at me, but I also knew if I didn't force myself to recharge and reset every day, I would not be able to show up for my movie, my team, or myself.

If you're a filmmaker feeling the weight of this grind culture, know that there's another way. In fact, that's exactly what my upcoming Microbudget Mindset workshop is all about — creating a sustainable, humane approach to filmmaking.

Rest on, 

GG

PS: You can join the Microbudget Mindset waitlist, you can sign up here!