One-hundred forty-eight days and 1,265-mp3 downloads since I quit my job as a cancer researcher and assumed my position at the helm of this film project.
I’m anxiously approaching the six-month mark. Not the anxiety that an attractive and popular high school senior feels about prom. It’s more akin to the anxiety that one feels when he doesn’t know the answer to a problem that he’s been called up to the front of the classroom to solve, only moments after noticing that he’s not wearing trousers or knickers…and that he hasn’t seen a paycheck in almost five months.
It’s amazing what free time, unfettered access to the internet, and no belief in a higher power can do to ambition.
Floating. No. Drowning. I’m drowning in a sea of good intentions. And it’s not the Sea of Good Intentions, which is probably located somewhere near the Ural Mountains and is certain to have restorative properties. No, my sea, not unlike my intentions, is figurative.
Where did i go wrong?
Instead of leaving my job at the beginning of the summer, so that i could take advantage of proper street-interviewing weather, I succumbed to my boss’s wishes and stayed through the end of August. Then, instead of filming in September, I convinced myself that I needed to be indoors reviewing public health literature. I rationalized this decision as an honest effort to equip myself with all the knowledge necessary to answer any inquiries made about the project. The prevalence of public health academics roaming NYC’s streets was much lower than I anticipated.
I’m much too pessimistic. I really should be celebrating the first couple of months, because, compared with the almost-barren months that followed, they may have been the most productive of my life. Sigh.
In the first 8 weeks of the project, I conducted about 25-30 street interviews, ranging from extremely fruitful and relevant to a mild-paper-cut painful. Luckily, the recruitment process itself was educational—an example of life imitating art that is trying to document life.
White passersby were much more likely than passersby-of-color to reject my interviewing advances. Could it be racism? Too many confounders to be completely sure. But, well, let’s just say that I rarely encountered a Black or Latino person who didn’t at least feign some interest in the project. White persons, on the other hand, rarely raised an eyebrow or stopped long enough to be charmed into an interview.
Nevertheless, we’ve gathered enough footage to piece together five, solid minutes of “film.” A promo, really.
The path between here and a five-minute clip probably looks like this: review footage —> storyboard —> research some more —> edit —> add effects —> edit some more —> look for a funding organization. What will come first: these five minutes or a positive change in our economy?
Sorry, American public. (I hope.)