After a zillion years (actually, more like a zillion and a half) of cycling the French country backroads filming my modest contribution to cinematic history, I’ve come to realize that making a film is a lot like making a cake.
Both require certain ingredients in a correct proportion to give desireable results. However, while in both cases, one hopes to please the majority with your creation, the hoary breath of reality dictates that “desireable” experience will be totally subjective.
Another commonality between film and cake making, is that both involve a certain degree of inspiration. In the case of the cake, perhaps simply: “I feel inspired to bake a chocolate cake today.” For the film maker, inspiration, contrary to what you might imagine, is optional. For example, when I create a film celebrating bulldozers or surgical rubber gloves, there is no inspiration involved. Quality, absolutely. Creatively realized – bien sur. But it’s a job of work. Not a sacred calling.
On the other hand, because I was inspired to return to France after my first cycling visit –THIS SERIES– and a whole new life was the result.
Like cake creation, sometimes you find yourself in the cinematic kitchen with some great ingredients. Not enough to “bake up” something substantial; but, like Belgian chocolate leftovers, too good to throw away.
When I find myself in that situation, I fill a glass with something wonderful and red, and mix up a batter of those leftovers. Like I did here: