When I Ruled the World

The interviewer was already on her third question by the time my brain decided I was done with the whole activity. Wasn’t all bad, though. The hotel suite the studio setup for the film’s junket, was probably the nicest I’d ever seen. At least the nicest I’d ever been able to pay for with my own nickels. My entire future depends on whether or not this film is a success. As part of the marketing strategy, we only need to cross about 15 million at the box to truly call it a success. It is an indie film for crying out loud, with a reported budget of only a million. Of course, those of us involved know we crossed that number before we even lit the first scene.

From the start, we had production delays. My female lead was still tied up on another film that itself was shooting over budget and way past schedule. So, only my male lead was available, so we had to pivot to shooting only the scenes that she wasn’t in, which weren’t a lot. Considering this was a film about two former high school lovers whose relationship ended because of an unwanted pregnancy, and now, with their adult lives unfulfilled have decided to reclaim that missed opportunity by trying to get pregnant as adults who haven’t seen each other in over a decade. However, still have unresolved issues from the past and their current lives. The studio made me call it ‘Born Again’. I hate it too.

It didn’t help that we already had the locations for their mutual scenes already paid for, paying for an extended stay then became part of our budget. We pivoted by allowing the production crew to stay there instead of a hotel so at least we saved money on that end. At least that’s what the producers told accounting. A move that our set decorator wasn’t too pleased with, as she had to lead her crew in putting everything back together again by the time of shooting, but hey, that’s filmmaking, right? I don’t know either…

All I know is that if this film isn’t received as well as the early critics have panned it, I’m not directing again, at least not for a while. Just because a film doesn’t make a ton at the time of release doesn’t necessarily mean you’re finished. Plenty of films were box office duds only to become fan favorites later. Sometimes the trailer doesn’t sell it, or there’s a Marvel or DC film in the theaters at the same time, and folks had to decide whether to take their family to see a flying superhero or bear the guilt of ignoring them for their own pleasure. At this point, most people know they can wait a few weeks for streaming.

I, on the other hand, would have to wait a few years to garner any fruits from my labor. It wouldn’t be all bad, though, as I would still be celebrated in the artist circles. LA always finds a way to lure you into some type of party, thrown by someone whose family was practically the springboard for the entire entry into the world of success.

Me, I’m a practical nobody from some small town in East Texas no one has ever heard of, but at least I finally have a film critics are calling “the best indie darling to come out in years”. I’m sure they’ll say that about someone else next year. Who knows, maybe this will lead to an Oscar nod. I didn’t have the breaks to get in. I had to work my way from P.A. (production assistant) on projects I didn’t believe in for the check. I didn’t even go to film school. It all started when I saw an ad on Craigslist for an indie production looking for PAs. Which I had no idea what that was at the time.

I got bit by the film bug immediately, which led to a lifelong ailment of pursuing artistic endeavors that, like most artists, caused my parents and some family members to question whether I was raised right or not. Where did they go, they wondered. A parent’s worst fear is whether or not their kid will be able to support themselves when they’re long and gone. That’s no longer a problem for me, but not because something finally worked out.

No, it was the third question that took me away from the buzz of the moment. The one I heard and understood, but reignited emotions I had been dealing with as of late. So much that I’m going to ask her to repeat the question in hopes that she’ll move on for time’s sake, as she’s just one of a handful I’m supposed to be doing as part of the press for the film today.

“Could you repeat the question?” I asked.

“With all of the success from the movie, was the journey to getting it all worth it?”

And there it was. The one question that’s been the subject of countless hours with my therapist from pre-production all the way to the final edit. It’s the question that I asked myself regularly since I first set foot in Los Angeles. ‘Was it all worth it?’

The pause is a bit longer than the interviewer likely wanted, as I can see her presenter’s smile quickly desipate into a casual gaze.

“To be honest…” I say with great hesitation. “I’m not sure”.

She was taken aback, and I can see the publicist for the studio’s reaction of shock in the near distance beyond the LED’s lighting out faces. The interviewer, however, quickly pivots.

“Surely that can’t be the case, considering all the early rave reviews from critics and your recent festival awards for best new director and film?”

She was right. How could I be so ungrateful? There are thousands of lost souls drooping around LA who would kill to be in my shoes. Even more have already packed up and gone home, admitting defeat and the prophetic proclamations of everyone who doubted them.

But it wasn’t survivor’s guilt that got me down, no, it was what I left behind that had. You see, just as I was leaving, that’s when my father’s health started to fail. My older brother begged me to stay. My mother understood and blessed me with the permission to leave so I wouldn’t feel the guilt of abandoning them. Her words specifically, “there’s nothing you can do about his cancer, honey”. No, there wasn’t. But tell that to my brother. Who has practically disowned me to the point that when a mutual friend at a bar back home asked him how happy he was about my recent success, he replied, “he’s just another one of those Hollywood snowflakes. Fuck ‘em.” Fuck ‘em indeed.

The bright side is that my father never blamed me for leaving. He only blamed me for my career path. Which, if he had survived, he would have seen it all worked out. Now, I’ve been robbed of the moment to tell him so. At least Mother would be proud. If she were alive too. That wasn’t my fault either. It was grief, but again, tell that to my brother.

But with all that said, I rethink my answer to the question. I would like to direct another film soon. I clear my throat before speaking. “Forgive my poor sense of humor; it was definitely worth it. We got the film we set out to shoot. And I can’t wait for its release.”

I’m lying. But it doesn’t matter. They don’t want to hear that. They want to hear a quotable tagline. Not the one in my head. Because if I’m being honest, I really don’t know if it was. Maybe that will be the subject of my next film.

At least it would be based on a true story.