On being blind

Ariella and Crow by Sarah Small via, once again, Amy Stein

For once I can't really complain. The film will be playing at a major festival soon. I've almost cut an hour version for broadcast. I've cut down to 75mins. for festivals. I'm traveling to two different countries in the next month. If I could just get someone else to do my taxes and pay the huge amount I will owe this year, I would be feeling pretty close to perfect.

Finishing this film has been very weird. At a certain point you just let go and let it be what it is and what it is certainly isn't to everyone's tastes. I can't bear to watch it anymore, even though I have to go in again today to tweak and compress and burn screeners and finalize the mix. I am not even sure how I feel about it. Is it a good film? Does it have anything really to say? Every confident decision I made along the way, was eventually questioned. There are certain scenes I don't love, certain music tracks that could be better, and I have no idea how to gauge the pacing after having watched it a bizillion times. And trying to make it better for this festival coming up–which means, after all, at least one person will have to review it–has felt like painting in the dark. Certain things feel right, but at this point, I have such a blindness to the piece.

Everything is consumed with the upcoming events and my back and neck are shrieking in pain from being hunched over the computer. I was a real bitch last week to my producing partner and it was her birthday. So now I have to grow up and behave and make good. This nice weather and blooming cherry blossom trees should help.

At Last as sung by Etta James

Print by Hannah Whitaker via Amy Stein's Blog

Well, there is good news...but I already got in trouble for announcing it on my film's website, so I can't really say here. Suffice it to say, the film will be playing at a domestic festival and not the Bakersfield Women's Festival of 90 Minute Docs That Took 7 Years to Make. A real festival.

And now the freak out begins. It's little more than a month away and I haven't had my hair cut in over a year nor a decent eyebrow waxing in weeks. And oh, not to mention how green I feel. Press already contacted us about screeners and stills and our director's statement and we are just feeling a little unprepared and a lot overwhelmed.

But the absolute most anxiety-provoking thought–the one which keeps we awake at night–is which version of the film to show. We finished cutting our 86 min version back in November but recently started cutting our hour-length version for broadcast. And well, now that some time has passed and I've seen it with audiences, I can certainly see a few places to cut. But it doesn't give me much time to sit with it. The festival wants to know, pretty much yesterday, how long the film is. And then we have to send them about 50 copies of it. And then-

Sigh. Yawn. Freak out.

And repeat.