Two weeks out.
That’s when we start rolling on The Lost Fortune of Oliver Brody.
It’s hard to believe, especially with how many things are still left to do. But even with the usual pre-production chaos, I’m feeling confident.
✅ The script works.
✅ My lead actor is dialed in.
✅ My DP and the rest of the crew are rock solid.
I know this is going to be a good film.
But here’s what’s been keeping me up at night:
I don’t want “good.”
The gap nobody talks about
I think there’s this invisible, but massive, gap in filmmaking that lives between good (or we could say, competent) and great.
The difference between bad and good can be pretty basic.
Get it in focus. Record clean audio. Don’t bore the audience.
But the difference between good and great? That’s where things get trickier.
It’s cohesion. It’s texture. It’s when every choice feels intentional, and nothing pulls you out of the world. It’s the kind of short that doesn’t just play well at festivals, it sticks with people.
But the scary thing is, you can so easily lose that greatness one lazy decision at a time.
How to quietly sabotage your own film
You know how this goes.
You shoot in the middle of the day instead of golden hour, because you’re tired.
You cheap out on a costume that’s almost right.
You rush through a scene to beat the clock.
You say, “Yeah, that’s good enough.”
Each decision makes sense in the moment. But add them up, and suddenly you’ve chipped away at the very thing you were aiming for.
And with this particular project, where nothing comes easy, and every single element has to be built, borrowed, bought, or hacked together – that temptation to settle is always lurking.
But if I’ve spent many months and many thousands of dollars trying to make something special, then “good enough” really isn’t.
Why this one matters more
This film is ambitious in ways that aren’t very practical.
We didn’t have locations, we had to find them.
We don’t have costumes, we’re renting them.
We don’t have props, we’re building and scouring for everything.
There’s no easy solution to anything.
Every problem is a puzzle, and every puzzle has ten sub-puzzles.
And when you’re this deep in the weeds, it becomes really tempting to say, “Screw it. That’s fine.”
But I know what “fine” looks like on screen, and it’s not what I want for this film.
The people making it possible
When you’re working alone – good enough is usually all you can even hope for… But fortunately, I’m not the only one investing in this.
- My lead actor has already lost 10 pounds for the role
- My DP is about to go into his own pocket for lens rentals on this, and set aside an entire week to prep with me (on top of the many days he’s already committed)
- My co-writer/producer has been there to talk through and help shape the film every step of the way
- My girlfriend is volunteering her time and energy to this project that’s totally outside her industry, plus providing free therapy whenever I hit a wall
They’re all giving a lot, and I’m extremely grateful for it, because it truly takes a village to even have a chance at making something great.
So I want to make this film something they’ll be proud to have been a part of. Something they can look at without caveats or disclaimers. Something great.
I might fail, but the intention and discipline to not cut corners is there.
Thanks for reading. If you’re working on something right now, I hope this gives you the urge to push past “good enough.”
Because great is within reach, but only if you chase it.
Let’s make some movies.
-Kent