We’re Just Doing Make-Believe
or, How to remember what you love about making stuff.
Last weekend I made a short film, How To Use The Bathroom, co-starring 8 year-old Lincoln Russo in the cabin I live in upstate. In fact, we made it entirely in the bathroom of the cabin because I wanted to give myself the limitation of one location and two characters, one of which I play myself. After a 2025 spent entirely writing and seeking funding for films and TV projects I keep being told are “risky” (read: WEIRD & QUEER!), I decided to write something so simple and low budget* I could make it in a weekend in my house with my partner and some borrowed gear.
*and not like, Hollywood low budget, like people who’ve already maxxed out their credit cards on dog emergencies this year low budget…
Simple it was not! Of course it wasn’t - nothing ever is! But did we do it? Hell yes, we did! Was it hard? Yep. Did a hundred things go wrong? 101. Do I lie awake thinking about what I should have done differently? Sure, but that’s also true about the joke I tried to make to the guy in line at the grocery store, so nothing unusual here!
BUT WAS IT ALSO FUN? So freakin’ fun! What a much-needed reminder.
This was partly due to the fact that our non-filmmaker friends showed up with snacks and beginner’s mind - which reminded us what an actual miracle it is that any movie ever gets made EVER. And also partly to do with the fact that my co-star Lincoln is a hilarious and brilliant kid who made us all laugh a lot and helped us remember to keep a spirit of play on set. One of our important rules was “Have Fun! remember we’re just doing make-believe!” Like, how lucky are we to get to do that? More, please!
We had a break station with fidgets and art supplies and musical instruments, which everyone on set used at some point. Also, in Lincoln’s rider was a snack I would never have experienced without him in my life:
There were a few moments leading up to the shoot where I was afraid it might not happen. We were only able to borrow equipment in a small window of time, and our first shoot was canceled due to the flu. Also, at our last zoom rehearsal Lincoln told me he was getting kinda bored and wasn’t sure he wanted to do it anymore. I let him know that he was allowed to change his mind, but also the boredom likely just meant that he was really ready to get in front of the camera. And luckily that couldn’t have been more true. He was an absolute natural.
Directing myself was probably the most challenging part. I found myself drawing upon my decades as a live performer, having to trust all the rehearsals, the shot tests, and just go for it. I tried to focus on my scene partner and the emotional story. Every time we were able to connect to one another, I could let go of the million other director’s brain worries and just get present. You’ll have to tell me if I pulled it off, in the end. (Thanks for the recent primer, Eva Victor.)
I’m editing now, and I’m still having fun, even though editing is not my natural skillset, and there’s a ton of technical wizardy I wish I could do myself (color correction and sound mixing for dummies?) But it’s actually such a gift as a writer to also get to direct and then edit your own story (I get it, Kelly Reichardt!) because there are layers of writing in each part of this process. Even as an actor, you’re writing (calm down, WRITERS!) because you’re bringing yourself to the story and ultimately that story couldn’t be told the exact same way by two different performers.
I think the fun’s in the low stakes/high stakes. The making-the-thing for our own entertainment, like how I used to make comedy exclusively to make my sibling laugh. The recklessness of being an amateur and embracing it. The limitations (yes, actually). And mostly the laughing we did on set, especially when I was being called annoying. I feel grateful. And overwhelmed. And super proud! And broke! And excited for what comes next.
May you all find a way back to the fun of your craft in 2026!
xoLex
Oh! & if you wanna participate in a world that doesn’t rely on huge corporations run by a handful of people to create all the film & TV you consume, consider supporting the independent (or nondependent) filmmakers you know in your life.
You can start with me:
MORE HEARSAY & HYPERBOLE:
Just Make Something!
It’s my birthday, and I’m gifting myself a get-out-of-my-own-way low stakes creative challenge: make a short film on basically zero budget.
Your therapist doom scrolls and watches too much TV
If your therapist is anything like me, a therapist, they are likely eating a box of cookies for dinner, thinking about the present-day relevance of The Legend of Billie Jean while playing a game on their phone (a game they started playing after reading an article about how manipulatively addicting it is, ever fatally curious about machine mind-control).