Alright, sit down, make yourself at home, it’s story time. Today I’m introducing a new series of posts called Stories from the Vault. In this new format, I’ll share personal stories from my journey in the music industry. I’ll try to only tell a story if there is a clear takeaway for you. The whole point is to encourage you on your own journey, and maybe show you some ropes I wish I was shown. Without further build-up, let’s get to it.
Many years ago, as a student, I worked on a score for a short movie. I had been a part of the shooting, and boy was that a good one. My friend Iva produced the project. She put together a talented crew for this one. Even the director, Lorena, was lovely. If you’ve worked on movies, even for a day, you know that this is the rarest thing. Rarer than me skipping a meal.
We were shooting tape, as well, which made us very focused. The budget was tiny, so we’d rehearse each scene a few times before shooting it once or twice. Three times and we’d go bust. Everyone enjoyed this additional layer of pressure. We were doing our best, trying hard to make a great movie.
It’s fair to say that a good time was had by all. Wrapping this particular shoot felt a bit sad. Like a party that took off, and you just don’t want these moments to end. Other cool movies were made. Yet we were never able to bring back the entire crew on a new project. Looking back on it years later makes this shoot even more special.
Then came post-production. It took a while. It always does. They tried a bunch of different things in editing and in colour grading. A lot of experimenting and learning.
I was to compose the soundtrack. I had scored a dozen of short movies before, but this one I truly liked. There were many ideas I wanted to try, many sounds I wanted to explore.
I got to work as the editing was still ongoing, which is pretty standard. It’s never ideal, as they sometimes trash an entire sequence that took you ages to get right. But these are the rules of the game. If you don’t like it, you can go play a different one.
That situation came up a few times on this project. Some sequences were deleted, or completely re-edited. It was a good learning experience. Something else pushed me over the edge, though.
The director wasn’t always satisfied with the music I created. That in itself is fine, you never check all the boxes on the first try. The problem is, she was lacking direction. Ironic for a director, I know. She didn’t give me that many references or explain what she wanted. That’s how I remember it, anyway. At some point, she started playing around with my music. Removing it from one scene, slicing it up, and playing it in another sequence.
You can imagine how thrilled I was at that.
As a young composer with an inflated ego, I got quite annoyed. I knew I wasn’t John Williams, but I still expected some respect towards my work.
The music had been written to the cut. You score watching the movie. You find the best cues to start and stop the music as naturally as possible. You’re playing off the footage. You’re making things happen when things happen on the screen. Or right before. The soundtrack becomes its own character, whispering clues in your ear, hinting at what’s about to happen.
If you start to chop that up and paste it wherever you feel like it, what’s the point of involving a composer? Do what Martin Scorsese does: use pre-existing music.
I stayed up late that night. I wrote her a long (angry) email, explaining all that and more. I complained about her lack of respect for my work. How would she like it if I re-edited her movie to make it work better with the music I had written?
The email was a masterpiece. That was going to do some damage for sure. About to hit send, I was very proud. Almost as proud as I was of the score.
Thank fuck I paused for a sec before sending it. I took a deep breath, and asked myself a single question: what good will come out of sending this email?
Is she going to realise what she’s been doing and apologise profusely? Restore the previous cut of the movie? Cancel her edits and put my music back where it belonged? Admit I was right, and she was wrong?
I learned two huge lessons that day:
– first, anger never solves anything. To the contrary – it’s like trying to put out a fire by pouring petrol on it.
– second, that as involved and passionate I was about this project, it wasn’t mine. It was not my movie. I was only another cog in the machine. My role was to help her achieve her vision. Nothing else. If that meant chopping up my music, so be it. It wasn’t about being right or wrong. My only goal should have been to make her happy and proud of the movie as a whole. Who cared if she trashed what I had considered the best part of the score?
Over the years, I’ve had my share of frustrating projects. I wrote quite a few angry emails. Spent time crafting them, proofreading them, before trashing them.
“Just because something needs to be told, doesn’t always mean it needs to be heard.” (I can’t remember where I stole that one from…)
I never sent that email to Lorena. It sits in my drafts to this day, as a reminder of these two lessons. Anger doesn’t solve anything, and this is not your project.
When things go south, be even more professional. Remember that it’s not about you and move on. Think about their perspective. Finish the damned project. And never work with that person again.
But then again, what do I know…
*****
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