I had a dream once—5 or so years ago. I often get the idea in my head that I should stop whatever I'm doing and make movies for a living. It's a David & Goliath situation (where I'm the ant that both of them step on as they're fighting around me) but not one that frightens me. The phase passes, and I then return to the ground.
But this dream, when I think about it now, it disheartens me. I know that the mind gets stronger and more mature as it ages and experiences, but dammit does it depress me to relive the infantility of my existence. But nevertheless, this is what I dreamt.
I would become a filmmaker. For unknown reasons and with an inexplainable capital, I made my first movie. In my dream, it was never fully defined. I imagine it would be similar to Garden State, maybe mixed with a bit of Swingers. It starred Zach Braff and a nameless face that was irrelevant because Zach Braff was in it and at that point in my life that mattered for some reason (not to disparage Mr. Braff--clearly you were just the George Michael of this dream's Wham!).
I imagined, as I often did, the press interviews I would do for the film. Not necessarily Entertainment Tonight, but more like Charlie Rose-at-a-bar kind of conversations. I would listen to his idle praise, and rationalize his criticism with macguffins and circular logic. He would call my revelations about superheroes "breathtaking" (A major theme of this film was that superheroes all had vulnerabilities…that thought made dream-me feel like Freud).
There was no context to his praise, as I had no idea where to narratively position the conversation about superheroes into this absent storyline. But I took it, and boy did it make me feel great. And I knew that this was going to be my break into Hollywood, and that regardless of how the film appeared to be going during production or on paper, when it finally existed and manifested in the public cinematic lexicon, I was damn sure that everyone was going to remember it.
I never articulated this dream past that. The only moment I could envision was Zach Braff sitting in a car with a nameless male actor discussing the most benign revelation about the nature of superheroes that one could have. And yet, I've managed to keep this dream coiled up in my head for years (it might be coming on 10). I was raised as a sheltered suburban Jew, so I didn't have much else in my young life to worry about.
Something about this memory speaks to me as a 22-year-old. It motivates me to advance my own level of thinking and articulation for reasons I do not fully understand. What I do know is that my bad ideas shape the mental foundations for my good ones. I reason by looking at the mistakes I've made, even if that means that I torture myself for a bit as I recollect how stupid I might have been.
And maybe one day...I'll make films.