Violator has been like a cocoon. It’s a week before our gala and it’s a week packed with work to do but I am more relieved than stressed out. I may be the only one who feels this way. I think everybody else on the team just wants to get this over with and move on to whatever’s next, mainly sleep. I still want to work. Because if there’s anything I’m dreading over the next two weeks, it’s really the void you’re left with after finishing something. I’ve always been flippant about the whole process, perhaps out of fear that I may lapse into the icky preciousness that comes attached to filmmaking these days. Truth is, we lucked out. We lucked out when we got picked. We lucked out when we finished. Hopefully, we’ll luck out when it shows. Skill and passion had fuck-all to do with it, much as we may have had both in some measure. Despite all my nonchalance, though, I can’t deny how cathartic it’s been. But more than cathartic, it’s been incredibly comforting, the comfort that comes from constant company and a sense of purpose. And when that comfort bottoms out, I know how terribly, profoundly empty it can be. Fellow filmmakers refer to it as a post-partum depression of sorts. And right now, I’m feeling the first murmurs. It doesn’t look promising when it comes into full bloom. Oh well.
On the last day of the shoot, I was asked to make a speech to the staff. I got shy and asked everyone out to drink instead. All I really wanted to say, then and now, were three things: Thank You, Sorry and Let’s Do It Again. I may be romanticizing this just a bit but much as we’ve been shooting for four months, it really feels, for me, like a culmination of the last seven years. I don’t want to make too much of anything. Pfft. We just made a film, we didn’t cure a disease. But folded into this context, my gratitude and apology and desire for continuance does extend far beyond the cast and crew, beyond the people who weren’t part of either but gave hands-on/vocal/moral support, and to the friendships I made in the last seven years that have been, directly or indirectly, influential to my so-called creative life. If you happen to watch the film and wonder why your name is on there, you know you are among these. If I never get to make another film, at least I’ve completed the narrative of the last seven years, hopefully without getting too precious or too sentimental, even if it’s just names on a credit scroll. Thank you, sorry and let’s do something together as soon as possible. Time is short and life is running out. See you in a week.