For some inexplicable reason, which I attribute to the cosmos, a longtime colleague who I admire reached out to me recently about a filmmaker with an unfinished project. Now often, depending on the person, this type of communication is something I discard out of hand. Maybe the person reaching out is from outside the business. Maybe I am just too overwhelmed with the world, (insert “film” here) to try to be helpful. Maybe I look at the proposal and think it is not the right fit for me.
But in this case, the person reaching out is a filmmaker I respect immensely, and I was frankly flattered by the contact. So respond I did.
Without getting into the weeds, and with another friend’s film sitting squarely in my mind as needing attention, this project has all the earmarks of something you see at a festival and are a) grateful you saw and b) you wonder how it ever got made and c) why didn’t anyone tell this story before?
The film is not the point here. In the words of my former acting teacher, “The finger pointing is not the point.” The ONLY point is passion. I felt and feel a passion for this project, this story, and to get the filmmaker to the finish line. And as a potential producer, what I have to give when I am passionate is my currency. My currency are my contacts, my time and my energy, none of which should be underestimated.
But the absence of my passion creates what abounds in our field: rejection. One can barely read a Facebook strand without hearing about a rejection, which leads to a gripe about how the rejection was made, outrage from the rejected person, or furious defiance, all of which is covering the understandable pain of rejection.
One of the great benefits of having a background as an actor is that rejection is less costly to me than to most. After all they are not rejecting your film or project, they are rejecting you and your performance. You simply cannot be a professional actor and suffer rejection too greatly. It is daily. It is omnipresent. And it is rarely personal. So, get over it
.But I realize all of my other discarded requests are someone else’s rejection. Whether as a potential work partner or at a festival or curatorial level, saying no is a big part of the job. And again, it is rarely personal, it is omnipresent and when working full time it is daily. Saying no is how we stay on course, and make clear our own aesthetic to the world, or clarify with every “no” the mission of our organization and/or personal work.
But saying no is also a kindness. There is a very wealthy philanthropist I know, and I once heard her interviewed in public. The moderator asked her what was the kindest thing a philanthropist could do, and her response was “Say no quickly”.
I love this statement. It is true in every way, from the personal to the professional. It frees the other person from doubt, and immediately gives them clarity. Clarity that this is not the path for you or for your project. This is not the right place, right job, right festival, right lane for you. And then, they can look for a different road.
So this brief and simple post is to assure you, and remind myself, that every rejection is a gift. It is a kindness. It is the cosmos saying, nope, a little to the left perhaps.
And it will eventually set you on the path to your destiny.
This is a fantastic and important piece to read and reread consistenly. Thank you!