Almost Linear

By Jack Davis

For part one of my two part series on making a short film, I’ll go into my experience with assembling my dream team and allocating funds. Basically, everything that came before making the thing!

A few weeks ago, I went home and directed a short film that I’d written.

I’d say it was the first one I shot, but it wasn’t. It was, however, the first one I completed. Geez Louise, remembering all the times I’ve attempted in the past. So many of these attempts were before I’d received any meaningful training in writing, the ball of anxiety I was in high school trying to direct – something I knew nothing about – the chunky blocks of chicken scratch I called dialogue, with my friend Matt coming in from Long Island to shoot the trainwreck.

Matt was usually the one on the camera and sound; I knew even less about technology than I did directing (believe me, that didn’t stop me from trying to boss him around). I met Matt in 2016 at a NYFA (New York Film Academy) camp, when I was fourteen or fifteen years old. I still remember all the particulars about that trip; I stayed with my uncle in Hoboken where I’d get oatmeal from this high end cafe – it was Hoboken, what do you expect – before taking the ferry across the pond to get to camp. My uncle and I saw Baby Driver, weren’t in love with it, but that’s irrelevant. After we showed our films – mine was not great, but you have to start somewhere – I went straight up to Matt and blurted out, “I want to be friends and we should work together.”

The two actors I had for this short – Rylan and Hannah – I had also known for a while, and they had also been a part of most of my incomplete projects. Rylan was actually the first person I ever had look at my writing. I’m proud to say he played the final person to be killed by Jon Bernthal’s Punisher in the titular Netflix show. I’ve known Rylan since I was a kid. He is an actor, and he went to the same acting conservatory I’d studied at with Hannah, but at a different time. I knew him from when I always used to ride my bike into Red Bank, NJ, and hang out at Kevin Smith’s comic shop The Secret Stash, where I spent most of my time between the ages of 12 and 16. He worked in the Starbucks across the street, so over the years I always talked to him. We eventually started hanging out and became great friends.

I met Hannah at the acting school I went to, where I learned a bit about the Meisner method of acting. She’d been going there for years and continued to go for a while after I left. Sure, I learned some stuff about acting that definitely made me better, but she actually knew how to translate theory into practice. I wouldn’t say I was bad; I’ve had a good performance here and there, but she was on a whole other level. Hannah is one of the best actors I’ve ever seen. The fact that I wasn’t one of the more prolific pupils of the school actually made the experience much more enjoyable. I got to hang with actors my age who were on sitcoms, had small roles in notable films, and were actively prepping to audition for Netflix shows. I learned that they were regular people just like me, and I (like to) think some of their talent may have rubbed off on me by osmosis.

The last piece of the puzzle for the short film’s talented ensemble was Nolan, a director of photography whose contact I’d been given by someone in recovery. She said she knew someone who was a DP; little did I know that exchanging of numbers would result in me finding a new creative partner, one who I’d work with closely in the following months honing in on the look of the short. Nolan also brought along a friend of his, Nico, who assisted with lighting and also kept my bulldog calm for a while (she kept laying on the light because she thought it was a fire, and she was always barking during takes). A special round for Nico.

One last note. Between Nolan’s fee and the cost of renting a Blackmagic camera from the city on ShareGrid – don’t sleep on the look of the film – I had about $730 to cover, and that’s before buying food for everybody, something that in hindsight you should definitely factor into the savings. God, was I lucky that Matt had his own sound equipment. How did I cover this? Long story short, dog sitting. My parents had some friends that were going away for a week and needed someone to watch their dogs from Christmas through New Year’s Eve. I didn’t know how much I was getting paid, and I didn’t want to ask, but I knew I couldn’t make this film happen drawing on existing funds. It ended up covering $600 out of the $750.

I go through this lengthy prologue and outlining of context – bear with me – to show that putting together a short is by no means a formal, refined process, at least when you’re starting out. You try to cut the corners that can reasonably be cut, draw on people you know, and save up some cash where you can. In the beginning, that’s how producing something is. You’re not getting any blank checks from Paramount, there aren’t any due dates for drafts, it’s all up to you. Doesn’t matter whether you wrote it or not, when you’re taking ownership of a project, that’s what it entails.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my illustration of everything that happened before we arrived on set (wanted to badly to say set foot on set). Come back and find me next week, where I’ll talk more about my experience directing, as well as working with actors in general.

Don’t be a stranger; I’d love for you to comment with any questions, concerns, or friendly disagreements. Also feel free to reach out to me through the “Contact Me” section of my page. Peace and love!