If you haven’t seen my first short film, Eggshells. yet, check it out here :)
Every villain has an origin story…
I’ll freaking say it. Making this film changed me. Like, Joker falling into the acid kind of changed me. Think Anakin watching Padmé die. Mr. Incredible turning his back on a young Syndrome. Or honestly, Gollum and the ring. That last one might be the most accurate. Obsession, heartbreak, identity crisis... all wrapped in one short film.
Of course, I’m being quite hyperbolic, but in all honesty, this was such a difficult process, and I learned so freaking much. But the pain of that process brings me here today, to hand deliver you the XP I gained on my journey.
Because here at The Filmmaker Press, we don’t gate keep anything.
Enough yapping, let’s dive right into what I learned from making, Eggshells.
1. Being a one-man band is INSANITY.
You ever do one of those group projects in high school, where there’s that ONE person who absolutely carries the team? Usually it’s the smartest, most driven and most competent, to a pretentious degree, guy or girl?
Well, that was NOT me in high school*, BUT it was me for this film.
I wrote, directed, DP’d, acted AND edited this thing. Because well, famously I’m a Creator on the internet, and that’s just how we roll.
But boy oh boy, this film’s run time was only 5 minutes, but creating it felt like an absolute marathon.
Even though my lifelong dream is to be a director, the concept of bringing people in to help on creative projects, has always scared me. Something about NOT having that complete control I typically have with a YouTube video or an Instagram Reel is a terrifying thought.
As I’ve been learning more about what a director actually does, the once-blurry truth has come into focus: you need a team to pull off anything with real “cinematic” merit.
And of course, for this short film… that was a fact I almost entirely ignored. I brought on just one homie; Sophia George (who, holy freaking shoutout, is an absolute legend) to help make it happen.
Now, even with her help, this was such a task to execute. Primarily, the shooting, directing and acting all at the same time part. Watching the monitor to get the right shot, while trying to get your lines right and get the right emotion out of yourself…
Let’s just say three rights make a left.
But honestly, I can’t really blame myself. You’ve gotta do this stuff to learn. The best way to figure out where to improve is to fail while doing the thing. Then spot what went wrong so you can course correct next time.
TLDR; YES you learn tons from doing it solo, but it’s insanely overwhelming. So get people to help you other than JUST yourself. Remember, you’re not a super hero. More on that in Lesson #3.
*In physics class, you can bet I always sat with my smart friends and copied their work. Yet somehow, SOMEHOW I was still a C- student. Don’t know if I just sucked at science, or STEM in general, or if I just self-limiting belief’d myself to an egregious degree, but bottom line is, I did horribly.
2. Plan, plan, plan and then… PLAN MORE.
Growing up homeschooled, my parents definitely would've labeled me a type B kid. I spent most of school playing with LEGOs, “doing math” on the computer (wasting time), and avoiding anything even that felt close to organized.
But somewhere along the way into adulthood, I started picking up type A tendencies. So now I’ve become this weird hybrid, someone who naturally leans toward being a man of absolutely no plan… but also feels completely incapable of doing anything without one.
A strange mix, to say the least.
Once I finished writing Eggshells. I was shocked by how quickly the screenplay came together.* It only took me about four hours to write; which felt both subjectively and objectively insane. For some reason, I’d built it up in my head as this impossible task. Like, of course writing my first short film had to feel brutally difficult... right?
Spoiler alert: it wasn’t impossible. Writing it was actually a breeze. The harder part, the part I love to avoid, was everything that came after… the planning.
Creating online over the past two years has conditioned me to almost never fully plan out my shoots, because shooting solo, I always wing it. The best part: these shoots always work in my favor, with little to no stress.
But, shooting a short film is much different.
Unlike a simple YouTube or Instagram video, where you can get away with using whatever shot feels cool, with no real rhyme or reason, a film demands more. Every shot needs continuity, yes, but it also needs purpose. Visual meaning beyond the obvious. Subtle cues that quietly support the story, frame by frame.
But ya boy decided to not create a proper shot list prior to filming. I just damn near raw dogged it. Spare a couple notes on the physical screenplay moments before shooting.
Now, if you’ve seen the film, upon hearing this info you may be thinking, “well, it turned out decent, so you’re fine, you didn’t even need to plan!”
False.
Not that the film didn’t turn out well, I actually think it’s pretty solid for a first go. But you haven’t heard the full story yet. I’ll give you a peer behind the curtain.
Those shots of just me on the sidewalk were completely reshot a day later, and same thing for another tight shot of my character saying goodbye when Amber and Auggie say their sayonaras in the back end of the film.
That goodbye shot DID NOT need to be re-filmed, because I genuinely just forgot to shoot it that first first place, BECAUSE I didn’t have a proper shot list. Then those reshoots on the sidewalk? Fully my fault too. I didn’t understand how my lav mics worked. Simply put, I placed the transmitter in my back pocket with the mic cord attached, and when I sat down, it bent the cord’s connection to the device, completely wrecking the audio beyond saving.
As a wise man once said, “it is what it-”
No no, it’s “you live and you learn.”
TLDR; plan ahead like it’s a heist. Literally every detail.
*If you want to buy the screenplay + shot list, check it out here. The shot list was made after the fact though, because as you know, I didn’t make it before shooting haha. All the money from this goes back into my films, so I’d deeply appreciate your support :)
3. It takes a village, so ASK FOR HELP.
Honestly, really straight forward. You’re not supposed to DO EVERYTHING. Matter of fact it’s better if you excel at what you’re best at, rather than attempting to do everything.
In my case, my focus should stick to writing and directing, since that’s the avenue I want to become great at. Even though I’m intrigued by acting, I know I’m not the greatest at it*, nor do I want to be the greatest at it. Same goes for most roles for me outside of writing and directing.
Even though this example is on a small scale, delegation helped me tremendously with Sophia George’s involvement in this project. From her acting, all the way to helping me film, was so crucial and made the process much more collaborative. Eggshells. would not be what it is without her.
Holy moly, I’m so grateful for her. Everyone go tell her thank you.
Her help expanded my vision to understand the utmost importance of a crew and how much of a game changer filling each role would be in the future. From DP, to gaffer, AD, sound and all that.
So much so, I tossed up an Instagram story after the shoot as a Bat Signal for any filmmakers in Austin, TX who would want to get involved, and to my surprise I got a lot of messages.
Since I spent the last nine months working as a Creator at a start up with a massive marketing budget, I was so used to talent and crew that require hefty payment, and I had totally forgotten that there’s a lot of other artists like myself, that just simply wanna be involved in cool ish.
Which brings me to say these proud words, I’m not longer scared to ask for help.
Enter: The Austin (filmmaking) Avengers.
TLDR; People wanna help you make dope stuff. Just ask.
*My older brother legit texted me after the film dropped and said, “you know, I see you more as a director… than an actor” ouch bro.
4. The best writing happens BETWEEN the lines.
If there’s two qualities I love, it’s nuance and conviction.
My main screenwriting mentor, Eli, has taught me almost everything I know about screenwriting. He’s written two full feature screenplays, which both respectively outstanding. They’re SO GOOD that he got approached to sell one of them to a studio for $250k!!
But he said no, over the fact he couldn’t direct it. Which I respect the heck out of him for that.
That is a man of conviction.
This same man of conviction taught me something about screenwriting that I, since hearing, have always attempted to bring into my own scripts.
It’s this little thing called, nuance.
Effectively, in screenwriting, and within the dialogue specifically, is having a character say what they mean without actually saying it. The power is in the subtlety. Because rarely in life do we ever say exactly how we feel internally… externally.
That’s what makes on the nose dialogue so unbearable, it breaks that illusion of reality. That, and it’s just straight up ear-wrenching. It’s intensely cringe, and it makes me want to rupture my eardrums with my bare hands. I freaking hate that clunky kind of dialogue that hasn’t earned the right to be that direct.
Now did I achieve nuance in the dialogue for Eggshells.?
You tell me.
Personally I think it needs a great deal of work. But we gotta start somewhere.
On that note of nuance, and conviction, I would love to get to the place of the great Aaron Sorkin’s writing in David Fincher’s 2010 film, The Social Network. For the reader’s who've seen it, you know what I’m talking about.
For those of you who have not, the writing it that film feels rhythmic, almost musical in its cadence. Specifically the opening scene when Mark Zuckerburg gets into the argument with his girlfriend that leads to her becoming his ex-girlfriend. It’s the scene that sets the stage for Zuckerburg’s motivation for the entire film.
They fire off lines of dialogue back and forth at each other like misunderstood cowboys in a high stakes standoff. Each bullet grazing past one another and at times completely missing each other, and at times the bullets collide mid-air, exploding before the eventually ex-lovers. It feels as though three conversations are happening all at once. It’s electric, and it might be my personal favorite scene in cinema in terms of dialogue.
For me this is the holy grail of what’s possible, dialogue-wise, or at the very least, what’s possible for the format of an argument between two characters.
Why?
Because of its nuance and conviction.
There are clear and intentional choices being made in that scene, while also carefully balancing the between the lines nature of the dialogue. It gets the message across without ever feeling on the nose. And being on the nose without clear reason? That’s the biggest sin you can commit as a writer.
TLDR; write with nuance and conviction. Avoid being on the nose unless ABSOLUTELY necessary.
5. Don’t take yourself TOO seriously
Now, after I’ve opened the door into my soul which contains overt hatred for things being on the nose, I gotta tell you, at the end of the day, none of this stuff is that deep. Which is a reminder I need to constantly tell myself, because it’s a fact that’s all too often easy to forget.
Now, turning the camera towards you, the reader. I wanna ask you this: in five to ten years, are you gonna look back at these moments and wish you did a more perfect job? Or are you going to look back fondly, simply grateful you gave all of this an honest effort.
I know full well, for me, two things will be true: one, I’m gonna deeply dislike my first works, because I’ll be that much better in that time. And two, I’ll be SO much better at what I do, because of how consistently I’ll put in effort.
It’s a self sustaining timeline, really. You just gotta keep your head down, stay consistent and delusionally optimistic that your stories are not only worth being told, but they are in fact, great.
Because if in reality they simply aren’t, right now, they most certainly will be, one day.
You just gotta keep going. (I say this to myself, literally every single day)
TLDR; be consistent. Don’t give up. Believe in yourself. Not even on some Disney, this is just facts. Honestly, I don’t give a sigma how corny this sounds.
Now it’s your turn…
For those of you reading this who felt a oscillating voice growing louder within you, saying something along the lines of…
“Dang this Caleb guy is inspiring, and I want to make films now because of bro”
I’m here to tell you, do it.
But it’s not gonna be easy. You’re gonna fail… a lot. Just like I have, and just like how I will continue to fail.
But in the end, it’s so worth it.
At the end of the day, you are no different than me or anybody. Tarantino, Wes Anderson, Spielberg, Greta Gerwig, Kurosawa, Hitchcock, PTA, Tarkovsky— they are all simply just…
Human. Freaking. Beings.
And we have this amazing super power of being able to not only learn, but master just about anything.
All it takes is time and intention.
So get out there, get after it, and shoot me a message letting me know what you get up to!
As always, I love you guys, and I’m forever grateful to get to do what I do because of you.
More short films are on the way.
Caleb