Cookie, Success, and the Inside Llewyn Davis Syndrome
It’s been three years since I started Cookie N Screen (over four if you remember the haphazard University project that this site was founded on.) As usual, all the successes that have happened to me should and have been celebrated in happy musing and fast-talking garbles to people I’ve spoken to. I’ve met heroes, accomplished dreams, and made some advances in different aspects of my career. I basically live in the world of film I’ve dreamed of. Just not on a substantial grown-up living wage but we’ll muscle through that.
This past two weeks I’ve suffered a bit of disappointment that captured the anger that was boiling under my cheery, upbeat exterior. I’ve spent the past three years in the same loop; I’d work insane hours, send a lot of emails out, try and network with people, and get little back. Not that I’m griping about the things I did achieve, but I only have the tiniest toe in a door that I want to kick open. After many, many, many job applications declining my talents, there comes a point where one feels exhausted in a very Llewyn Davis way.
For those who haven’t seen the Coen Brother’s musical odyssey Inside Llewyn Davis (and if not, why not?), the movie follows a struggling musician whose life has become a cycle of shows and being told to give up music whilst sleeping on friend’s couches and struggling to get by. Despite, at times, turning to other career choices and becoming quite a bitter asshole, he keeps playing in though it feels as though the world is screaming, “No, loser. No.” At one of the more depressing points of the film, Llewyn turns to a friend and laments “I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired. I thought I just needed a good night’s sleep. But it’s more than that.”
And I get it. I get it so much. I’m tired but it’s not from lack of sleep, it is from lack of progress mixed with the sentiment of “Hey, maybe I should give up.”
Speaking of Llewyn Davis, I read an interesting interview with Oscar Isaac (I have a sickness) where the star lamenting on leaving Julliard and waiting for his big break but realising that it wasn’t about becoming a star, it was about the work. That’s something that has lingered on my mind since reading: It’s about the work.
So earlier today, I was in a screening for Deadpool and before the film rolled on, I got a disheartening tug on my soul. Tears welled up and I messaged Georgia, as usual, elegiac about my sorrows. I then had to aggressively swallow it and sit back, enjoying the film with that sinister voice in the back on my mind breaking down the “access denied” email from this weekend’s biggest event (not naming any names but it rhymes Kafka.)
How it spoke was a bit pathetic, completely justified, and went something like “Great, all that hard work I’ve done, for nothing. That’s three years! Three years of trying my damned hardest, covering everything they throw at me! Sending writers to all of their events! Staying up and covering the awards in my kitchen with my cat and a cup of tea?! Why do I stress out about this? Why aren’t they paying attention? WHYYYY ME!”
But within ten minutes of this whining, I was launched into a fantastic thrill ride called Deadpool that refused to let go of my attention. Now, I’m not saying that Deadpool was the life-changing spectacle but I’m saying it sparked change within me. It reminded me of my love - film. How a great film can change my attitude, giving me that post-movie high like the colours were still bright and the soundtrack still skipped in my mind. The exhaustion and anger I felt had subsided and an action plan slotted into place - It’s not that I’ve got to work more, I’ve got to work smarter. For success? Fame? Riches? No - so I can keep on working on a substantial wage - doing what I love. And I actually love doing it. Writing about films, writing films, and directing them. Anything I can do to keep the industry ticking, even sweeping popcorn up after screenings. I adore it,
Life does not give easily, nor does it owe you. Grumbling about what you don’t have will only make you bitter and disparaged against trying. When failure happens, it’s not your fault nor is it anyone else’s. Sometimes, that’s how the chips land. You can do all the right things and still lose, said Captain Pickard and it’s a life lesson everyone needs to learn. It is possible for someone to work hard and get nothing. Also, life isn’t about your twenties or getting as much in before the ticking clock of adulthood slaps you in the face and you’re saddled with children. Because it’s not as if life stops after having children, it just gets hard to travel - but it’s totally doable.
I’m losing myself in another rant.
Anyway, what inspires me aren’t the likes of Jennifer Lawrence who seemed to go from zero to Oscar in a few moments. They do work hard but suddenly, she’s 25 and has everything she’s ever dreamed of. I’m 26 and still live with my Dad. I’m inspired by the likes of Uzo Abduza and Christoph Waltz who worked and worked and, luckily, made it big. I’m inspired by those with small television parts or have been runner on so many different productions because they want to keep the film industry going. I’m inspired by the managers of independent cinema chains and bloggers who talk about movies - not because they want to secure a meet ‘n’ greet with today’s hottest actors - but because films and passion run through their bloodstream so much so they have to share the glee with someone else.
That was me.
No, wait that is me.
I just got caught up in the dejection rage we all do - lamenting about an aim that is a “happy if it happens” perk and not what I’m setting out to do. What I want to do is work in the film industry. At the top of my goals is to work creatively - a writer or director producing whatever level of movie I can. At a more achievable place - it’s in marketing, helping shout about movies and relay them to the public. What’s important that it is not about meeting James McAvoy or Oscar Isaac as celebrities, but maybe working with them and their art? That’s what sparked this all off, after all - working creatively, with creatives, making creative stuffs. And I lost a lot of that in the glamour of press and scraping for a minute of time for these people I admire more as artists, not as a face I can go “Look, I met him.”
The alternative to all this? To all that? Giving up. The thought of that hurts more than the pain of getting rejected - again.
On my wrist I have a tattoo from film and book Filth. It is the motif Same Rules Apply. It represents a lot for me; the film that changed my life about film-making, the games we all have to play to survive, and my first press screening and press interview with the aforementioned McAvoy. True, I was excited about McAvoy, director Jon S. Baird, and author Irvine Welsh but reminiscing - I enjoyed breaking down the character of Bruce Robertson and talking about the process of the film much more than adding a celebrity to my press belt. It is partly there to remind me of what I achieved and what I can achieve (and how close I came to breaking, but again, that’s another story.)
So it’s three years since I started on Cookie N Screen, I’m With Geek, the sites I now write for, and the films I make. It’s time to start looking at things at a different angle - where I want to be and how I want to achieve it. I know the destinations I am aiming for, and I know which ones I’ll steadily get too and I can go further than expected. Yet I’m not hitching my ride to a far off land that I might not ever reach. Maybe one day that big bustling city will call me up to its ranks but it’s not about that; it’s about feeling passion for what I do and enjoying the work I am getting. I’m looking at the towns I am in and then the next one, sampling the fruits they have to offer and helping it shape me. I’m making a punch and if life wants to spike it with awesome, then I’ll giddily sip.
I just need to switch flavours when the punch gets too sickly. I need to offer it out to other people who’ll also enjoy punch. I need to celebrate the greatness of this drink and be proud of making it so far. I need to swim in it. Not drown looking for lifebelts to save me.
After all, it’s not about “the shot,” it’s about the work (and getting moderately paid for it) and by lord, I love the work!
