Jobs That Don't Exist
I've stopped thinking of myself as a "filmmaker."
It isn't a job.
I make films, yes.
But I don't necessarily feel close to other filmmakers.
Using a camera, lights and the whole kit isn't a strong enough common ground to create a sense of community.
What interests me is the subject. What people have to say. Their process as artists.
Which, in the end, doesn't depend on the job.
In that sense, to me, a filmmaker who only made cooking films would be closer to a cook or a food critic than to another filmmaker.
A filmmaker obsessed with crime would have more to say to a novelist or a police officer than to someone who makes comedies.
As for the one who bets everything on improvisation, on organic creation, he probably wouldn't have much in common with the one who storyboards every scene down to the millimeter.
I meet plenty of filmmakers I have nothing to say to.
I watch plenty of films I couldn't care less about.
Which surprised me, at first. We do the same thing, don't we? We're part of the same world?
But actually, no. Not at all.
And I think this is true for many jobs, especially in creative fields.
Using common tools to produce works that go by the same generic name doesn't guarantee compatibility.
Between two writers, two painters, two artists, there can be a world of difference.
Unless you really talk shop.
"What software do you use?" "What camera?" "What brush?"
But very quickly, the conversation stops because on what matters, there isn't necessarily any connection.
The artistic equivalent of talking about the weather.