Savannah's WP2
My first semester I experienced at the University of South California (USC) was one that tested my fight or flight response. My body and my mind had never felt so in sync, and yet by the end of the semester I had experienced a myriad of unsettling and jarring events that tested my mettle and my resolve. The stakes were high as I was expected to adhere to a rigorous schedule, manage multiple competing and tedious tasks in my School of Cinematic Arts (SCA) production program, and gear up for the most demanding course of the program, CTPR 310 which I would enroll in the next semester. Intermediate Production (310) is the “make or break” of SCA’s Film Production program. All of my advisors and professors repeatedly emphasized how demanding this class was going to be for our cohort; so much so that many years ago SCA began assigning embedded counselors to students to help with managing the stress of producing three short films in one semester. Yet, in the most peculiar way I felt calm because after all I had been through that fall semester, I was finally starting to trust myself.
I knew that if I wanted to be great in the spring semester I would have to start early in my preparation for this class. The intermediate production instructors sent out emails two weeks before the end of the fall semester asking students to have our scripts posted by the first day of the spring semester. Thankfully, I was not caught off guard by this email since I was already working on a short script during the fall term. The script was called “Overthink” and it was about seven pages long. I had a foundation to work with which was great, but, honestly, I was not too confident in the script. I learned early on that your first script really is not your script. Zadie Smith talks about writers as micro-planners and macro-planners and I would say I’m more in the school of macro-planners. While my script will undergo significant re-writes, each revision builds off of one another in a more linear fashion, not at all like the micro-planner approach which reminds me of old-fashioned paper dolls with lots of options that are interchangeable.
As the days started to go by, I had to decide if I would rewrite the “Overthink'' script or start a completely new script. In the final analysis, I felt that there was an abundant amount of potential in “Overthink” and therefore I decided to rewrite “Overthink”. As I began the rewriting process it became clear to me that I had a lot more work on my hands than I had previously assumed. One issue turned into ten issues, and I knew that this script had to be the best it could be if I was going to submit it for CTPR 310. I went back to the drawing board and pulled out every ounce of thought and every script development resource I could get my hands on in order to apply them to the script. Some might think the story of “Overthink” is somewhat autobiographical, as it tells the story of a young professional trying to manage the realities, struggles and challenges of her first professional job, but in reality, it could be the story of Maya Lin as she described the challenges she faced in bringing her vision for the Vietnam Memorial to life. The challenges she faced in maintaining the integrity of her vision; finding her voice; and communicating and engaging effectively with multiple stakeholders - each with their own agenda - is highly relatable and something we all confront in the pursuit of growing and refining our craft.
The skeleton of the script was revised with suspense; clear questions that I wanted the audience to ask; and emotional triggers. I prioritized topics that needed more conversation – Black women’s mental health and toxic work environments. Ava Duvernay was an inspiration for many of the plot elements because I was so inspired and influenced by her work on the film, “When They See Us”. The way she portrayed Black men’s mental health was breathtaking and I was instantly moved to incorporate the topic into my film. The vulnerability that she was able to make clear in the film, through her characters and dialogue, left me in a beautiful struggle as I attempted to craft a script that would invoke those same emotions in my audience.
My repeated attempts helped me to understand where I was going wrong with my execution. As I learned the art of emotion, I also noticed how my brain connects audio to visual. When my brain was stuck and I could not create a scenario upon which to base my script, I would listen to a love song. I would dissect the beat, instrumentation, backgrounds and lead vocals to transfer myself into a different reality. Initially, when I realized that I had this capability it was overwhelming for my mental health.
In order to construct the scenario correctly, my body would internalize the feeling and meaning of the song. Gave me a new and unsettling appreciation for the experience of being really “into” a song.
The influence of the songs on my mental state and the thoughts that I conjured were intimidating because my brain is able to create these really immersive imaginary experiences. This experience was frightening in some ways and started to prohibit me from attempting to use this tool. As I learned to compartmentalize the depth of these mental scenarios, I slowly began to allow myself to dive back into this way of creating.
The art I produce comes from a place of intention and authenticity. Growing up I have experienced many works that feed into societal norms just to be “trendy”. I have always found that type of entertainment to be restrictive as it lacks creativity, in my opinion. While I understand marketing and advertising concerns demand trendy elements in order to sell the movie, sponsorships and commercials, I am learning to create stories that do not follow trends, but are based on experiences. Films like “Fried Green Tomatoes” and “Love Jones” provide the audience with specific and yet authentic perspectives that live in a certain time period, while the writer also skillfully zooms out to keep the audience focused on the story by evoking themes that are relevant and relatable, i.e. evergreen.
As a young writer it can be difficult to write a story without distracting elements that take the audience out of the story. That is why in “Overthink” my CTPR 310 short film it was important to me to acknowledge technology and social media, but it was just as important to not get distracted or sidetracked by those elements. “The mindless scroll” is what distracts us and keeps us from thinking about our day-to-day reality and I feel as though that’s the same way it makes the audience feel when we look into a character's phone. Some experiences should be personal and our phones are very personal to us so it did not elevate my story to include the social media aspect. I want my audience to be engaged spectators to the films that I create and in order to achieve that goal I must take a step back and craft a story that is deserving of their time, attention and loyalty.
Taking a step back is never easy, my approach to giving my brain freedom to create is warm isolation. I sit at my desk and turn on a tungsten lamp. Then I open my computer and have my favorite snack or drink not too far away. Creating an environment conducive to writing is as important as the stage we set for our audience and plays a significant role in the resulting quality of my script. No distractions, just a relaxing quiet place for my brain to roam free. The warmth of my isolation is also populated with the experiences I have enjoyed in my life. The South Florida beaches, long road trips, and family holiday festivities all contribute to the stories I tell and the experiences I create, and hope to create for my audiences.
My favorite musical artist Beyonce finds the ocean to be a sacred place to focus on humility and she has inspired me to go to the ocean to find peace and solace, and to realize that I am just one human being in this world. Many production students, as they approach the semester where they must enroll in CTPR 310, myself included, approach the experience with the attitude that their project must change the world. When in reality we are here to learn and to practice how to not be so critical of our work. One of my favorite 310 professors made it crystal clear to me that we are not “curing cancer”. And while it took me a few weeks to understand what she meant by that statement I did eventually come to understand that as creatives our brains crave experiences and self-care. As stress and anxiety flooded my being, with deadlines looming and partners posing problems, she helped me to understand that it is okay to relax and to treat yourself and your craft with love.