Meet Luci Schroder — a young, spritely, Australian lass, who at twenty-eight has hardly been around the block. But rather then waiting until she became an ‘I’m-too-busy-sailing-my-solid-gold-yacht-to-Cannes’, award winning director, we decided her brain was ripe for picking now, goddammit. After all, so many of the people we talk to these days are kicking-back in old-age, the early days of their careers long forgotten. Luci on the other hand, she’s fresh out of her mid-twenties with all that difficult ‘foot in the door’ stuff out of the way. So! If anybody here wants to become a director, listen to Luci’s story, and take inspiration from that fact that being a hard-working go-getter can really, truly, pay-off.

Junior: Ok Luci. From the top. How did you become a director?

Luci: I never knew I wanted to direct, it just kind of happened. But I’ve always been obsessed with making things.

Jr: So where did you start, tell us where you got your first job?

L: I’d gone for this job in the tape room at Image Stream/Digital Pictures during the end of uni. I’d had an interview with this guy, I’d given him the spiel about how I saw myself as a creative person, I showed him a couple of animations I’d made and he asked if I would be happy just dubbing tapes – because I’d be dubbing them for at least a year before I’d get to do anything else. He then said that the only way people move up in the company was if someone dies or leaves.

Jr: Ha! What a banana.

L: And that I’d be doing shift work, the salary was shit, and I’d be doing long hours. I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy at this prospect, but he told me I was the front runner for the job – we’d already found out I barracked for the same footy team, had gone to the same primary school and I liked soccer – so it was almost a done deal.

But luckily at the same time, my brother who was friends with Germain, (one of the directors from Directors Group) told him they were looking for someone to answer the phones. So I gave Craig the owner a call and went in to meet them. When I saw their reel I knew it would be a great place to work. I ended up working for them the next week running on a Target TV commercial as a free-bee, so they could make sure I wasn’t a spaz. I then played my cards saying that I’d been offered a job elsewhere, and did they want me to work for them, as I had to let the other people know. Luckily they did. At that stage they were about to go and shoot Megan Gale in Shanghai for David Jones, and then off to Greece for a Leggo’s pasta sauce spot, so basically the first month there I answered the phones, booked hotel rooms, watched DVD’S and ate pistachios.

Jr: So it was basically about being in the right place at the right time in a way.

L: Yeah, but I did work it a bit to get the job at Directors Group, as Craig had said he was still looking at others for the position, I was trying to get the other job at Image Stream just in case, which possibly could have happened.

Jr: And you might still be in the tape room till this day.

L: Yeah, no disrespect to Image Stream but I’m glad the cookie crumbled as it did.

Jr: And so falling into the producer role was never part of the plan?

L: Nope. But going from answering phones to production assistant, director’s assistant, production manager, and then producing meant I really got to learn the ropes. Also it’s a small company so you get to try your hand at many things, I had lots of opportunities to work in many areas of production which maybe wouldn’t have happened at bigger companies and as time went on the guys gave me more responsibility, I helped with scouting, treatments, casting, etc.

Jr: So after being hired as the receptionist how soon did you progress onto the other stuff?

L: When the guys came back from overseas, I was pretty much production assistant, then soon production coordinator, then I was down as producer on the next music clip that we made. It was a bit of a joke though; the gaffer even came up to me and said it was the quickest progression he had ever seen. I guess I like to aim high. But I was giving my uni library card a work out straight away to borrow books for pitches and stuff. But doing time is important, there’s so much you need to know.

Jr: At what stage did you then go, well, I’m not Luci the producer, I’m not Luci the girl who answers the phones.. I’m Luci Schroder the director.

L: I started getting really frustrated early on. I could see all this great creative stuff going on and I really wanted to be doing it rather than organising and sourcing it. A MAFMAD TAC competition flyer came in the mail. I thought it was worth a crack and the prize was pretty handsome. I procrastinated for a while and was pretty busy at work. But the night before it was due I stayed up all night writing the outline… and I ended up winning. That experience was pretty cool, especially the fact that your film goes to cinema, you get to go through all the processes that goes along with that, it was really exciting and it made me realise how much I enjoyed the challenge of it all and that I wanted to do this permanently.

Jr: It must be hard putting the hours in pitching on a job, only to have it go to another director or have it canned. Does this happen often, especially since you are still in the early stages of your career?

L: It can get you down, but you have to try and not take it personally. A lot of the jobs I pitched for last year were ones that were a bit rickety to begin with. They didn’t have enough money to make them how they wanted to and the client was nervous about spending the money during the economic downturn – the jobs were kind of doomed from the beginning. 98.6% didn’t get made.

I also had this crazy experience where twenty-four directors were pitching for a job. I didn’t know this at the time, I was really excited about it, I had three days to do the treatment over a weekend, and I missed a really great party to do it properly. I found out that no one ever got the job because of client politics. So there were twenty-four people who spent the time and effort and no one got the job – pretty frustrating.

Jr: It seems like a well thought out treatment is pretty important thing. What makes a good one?

L: It’s debatable. I’ve seen different ones from time to time from different people. I think you need to be thorough yet clear and succinct, and with a little enthusiasm.

Jr: How much time do you think young directors should spend on a treatment?

L: Well it’s different depending on the size and scope of the job, I’m a bit of a procrastinator, I get stuck watching movies and searching for pictures, listening to music, making pancakes… but 2 to 3 days is good. I find it good to sleep on my ideas, it’s amazing the difference a day makes.

Jr: It seems like there’s a real art to getting jobs as a young director. What’s your strategy? Do you look at the jobs you have done and think, “I’ve got six things on my reel and two I’m really proud of,” and then try to counteract any shortcomings with a great treatment?

L: Yeah, I feel that the work I’ve done shows promise. I get better with every job I do. But of course the better the reel the better your chances. What I did learn through working with directors like ‘Nice Trees’ at the Directors Group is that you always need to have a really good treatment as well. They go together like crackers and cheese.

Jr: Music videos. You’ve done a few. You’re finishing one now. Do you think for young directors that music videos are a massive career starter?

L: I think so because you have a lot more creative freedom in music video land, however it seems the budgets are less and less for a lot of good local acts which sucks. But it’s a really good way to cut your teeth.

Jr: What’s the deal? No one is watching Rage anymore?

L: It seems the music industry in Australia is tight with finding money to make clips so if you can make something cool with a good concept that’s maybe a bit lo-fi or somehow cheap to make, that’s really going to help you.

Jr: I suppose that’s where young, up and coming directors can show their ideas as well.

L: Fresh eyes and a smart brain is a good thing,

Jr: Do you think that’s part of just breaking through, working with shit money?

L: Definitely. You kind of have to get more creative when you have shit money, and be more resourceful. It’s a true test. But it’s good because it makes you do things that you wouldn’t have thought of because it’s easier to come up with the big ideas than something for a smaller budget. I like the idea of turning shit into gold.

Jr: Everyone who we’ve interviewed have all said that.

L: I did a film clip recently for Cordrazine’s new single still yet to be released which was made for $3000 and a lot of favors, it’s tough but do-able.

Jr: It’s pretty amazing what you did with not much money.

L: I’m just finishing another small budget clip for an independent artist, with the budget just $2,000! It was almost impossible, and it’s definitely more lo-fi, but it has its own charm. But I will always love high production values and having a budget to work with. It’s a struggle to let go of that sometimes. It’s exciting times we live in though, there is so much material, varying technologies and influences to use and pull from.

Jr: What do you reckon about being one of the few female directors?

L: I think people will work with you because you do great work and you’re good to work with, not because you have a penis or a vagina. I just really wanted to say penis and vagina. Can you leave it in the interview?

Jr: We will definitely leave that in. Do you have female directors that you look up to?

L: Off the top of my head my favourite female ones are Naggie Noda, the female director that did Fish Tank – Andrea Arnold, Sophia Coppola, Alex and Alaine and Radical Friend – but they are both boy/girl duos so that’s kind of cheating.

Jr: Do you think for people trying to become a director, is it a case of getting a job, whatever that job is, whether it is answering the phones or running and then start building opportunities?

L: It felt right for me, but some people might just go straight into it. It was never that obvious to me to begin with. I started out not knowing exactly which role I wanted to take on within the industry – cinematography, director, animator, creative producer, editor. It’s good to have a network of people around you who are inspiring and ultra talented and I was lucky enough to have that throughout the journey so far. The film medium is a collaborative process, I think having good people skills is going to help you, and if you understand crew roles and what they have to deal with, it can only make you better at communicating what you want and how to go about making it happen. Surrounding yourself with the best makes you better. I like having the knowledge and background experience in all those other areas of the job. It makes me feel prepared; luck favours the prepared mind or something.

Jr: So many young creatives we talk to are so busy, they’ve just started their first jobs and they’re not getting out and about as much as they use to. How do you feed your brain when you’re working such insane hours?

L: It’s super important. I find I tend to re-evaluate everything all the time, ask questions, restocking your creative fridge, travelling, reading, getting amongst it, keeping open to new influences, absorb and poo it all out again. I’m a big observer, its sounds creepy but I always love watching people. In general, human beings are rad.

Jr: And what about building your craft as a director?

L: I’d done acting and lots of dancing at school, but I hadn’t done much acting since. I had a major curiosity about all the different types of acting methods out there, the many varied ways to get a performance out of an actor or even a regular person. I want to increase my knowledge so I can work out what kind of director I want to be. And you can only get so much out of reading books and watching other people direct. So for the last year I’ve attended acting classes. It’s been really fun, and quite freeing. There are lots of ways to direct but until you actually get up on a stage or on set and give acting a go you really have no bearing of what it takes, and what the actor feels. I’ve come from a visual back ground, been around mostly visually bent creatives, and doing some theatre acting has given me extra tools for my tool kit.

Jr: Speaking of extra tools – you’ve got that production knowledge and experience. So you could do a whole job own your own, you know, two pay checks?

L: Ha! Nah, I like collaborating. I always try to work with the best people so it’s a good vibe, it’s good to know who you’re working with. I think a big part of working with people is being able to articulate what you want, and know the best way to get great performances out of your crew and cast. Everyone plays a part in making the pictures, I value everyone.

Jr: So where are you at now?

L: Recently when Nice Trees disbanded, I thought that it was the perfect opportunity to jump into directing full time. I set goals for myself, kept busy creating clips and writing, but you can’t be too hard on yourself if you don’t reach your goals by a certain time. You’ve got to put it out there and be brave – it takes time.

Yesterday we posted Part One of our drinking escapades with Glendyn. If you haven’t read it yet, do so here. Umm, so, yeah… You wanna know something funny? You do? Cool. Cause we’ve already written an intro to the first part and now we’ve said all we can say. We sat down with Glendyn for two hours, gathered one hour and forty five minutes worth of audio, and had it transcribed into a 10,000 word interview nightmare! How do you edit something like that? Crazy, huh? One day we’ll show you all the other bits we didn’t add in. Things like when the waiter brought our beers over or Ed had to go to the toilet. That’s where the magic is. In the meantime, read the interview then go see Glendyn’s new movie. It’s called Last Ride if you didn’t know already. Read on!

Junior: Winning at Cannes and at the AFI’s for Crackerbag must have been a turning point for you, a bit of recognition?

Glendyn: I never made Crackerbag to go, “I’ll make this film, send it to a festival, win an award, and then go on to make a feature”. I just wanted to make a short film. When I made it I thought if I can make this and show my Mum and my friends at Christmas that would be really cool. I just really wanted to make a film; even if it was shit I was still going to be happy with it. Everything else that happened when we finished the film was a huge bonus.

Jr: Is there any trick to entering something like Cannes?

G: I downloaded the entry form from the internet, filled it out, put it in a Post-Pack, kissed the package, gave it good energy and sent it off. The next thing we knew there was a phone call from a French guy saying we were in the competition. I had no idea what that really meant. I was so naive about the whole thing; I just kind of went along for the ride. Things happen for a reason.

Jr: Why did it win? Do you know why?

G: I think Crackerbag had a universal story. Working with anything to do with childhood – I didn’t know this beforehand, but I’ve travelled around the world with the film since and shown it in different countries with different audiences – and someone always comes up and says “that film is about me when I was a kid”. The first time someone said that to me I was in Russia, at the Vladivostok Film Festival. This little pepper pot Russian, hard-faced woman with a floral headscarf came up and said through a translator ‘that film is about me’. And I remember thinking ‘it’s not about you, it’s about me’. To the most ridiculous amount of detail, that film is about me. I thought only my Mum and my brother would get that. It’s the same car, the same posters in the room. I guess I realised that if you are a child, no matter who you are, where you are, where you grow up, you experience moments in your life where you see that things aren’t what you thought they were or that your world is a little bit bigger. That was it; it was a really good story about being a child.

Jr: It seems that creating a masterpiece takes so long. You’re creating something about you and it’s all about your creativity and not about clients – going on a journey like that, it becomes not about anybody else but about you. Did you find making ‘Last Ride’ to be a big personal journey?

G: Definitely. It is hard sustaining energy over five years. Particularly when you have got your own personal life, moneymaking work, and all that sort of stuff. We went on this road trip, six weeks travelling five or six thousand kilometres through the desert. I think the idea of removing yourself totally from your comfort zone is a really great thing. I’ve always seen making films of any kind as being like an explorer, like being out in outerspace. I like to always force myself into places where I don’t belong with open eyes and an open heart, and take in and translate what you are experiencing.

Jr: Were there any moments when you were filming ‘Last Ride’ where you thought, ‘I don’t love this anymore’?

G: No. It was more like, ‘How can I love it even more?’ To be in the middle of directing a feature film is one of the most overwhelmingly stressful situations you can put yourself in. If you find yourself doing it with something that you aren’t in love with or aren’t 150% committed to, it would turn that stressful situation into absolute terror. There’s so many times when I was making the film that I thought to myself that I wished I packed supermarket shelves because it would be a really easy job; I’d earn money, I could go home and relax, watch TV and all that sort of stuff.

Jr: Yes!

G: But it’s always the story and the characters and the need to tell that story or at least to try to, is the thing that drives you to keep doing it. Every single shot and everything that you do on a feature film is a battle. You look at every shot as sacred. Every moment is trying to create something. To me if you’re doing it and not believing in it that would be terrifying. I’m sure that there are people that can do it, but in that situation I would rather be packing a supermarket shelf.

Jr: Now you’ve had that taste of doing a feature, do you think you will get to a stage where that is all you want to do? Leave TV commercials behind?

G: If I could do features and nothing else now I would do it. For me it would be the most privileged existence. But I don’t think that’s going to happen for a while. Not that I can see at the moment. But you never know. Right now I’m quite happy at the to divide my time between commercials, developing features and other creative projects.

Jr: OK, so we’ve got some questions for the budding filmmakers out there. First up, how do you go about getting funding for your films? Is it public, is it private, and does that make a difference with the creative direction of the film?

G: ‘Last Ride’ was pretty much funded traditionally. Money from Screen Australia, Film Victoria, South Australian Film Board, The Adelaide Film Festival, Madman, and right at the last minute I got some private money. That’s kind of the way most feature films are made here. We didn’t have a big budget, it was $3.5 million. People aren’t putting a lot of private money into films, particularly not that much money. I don’t think we had to jump through any hoops, it was always “this is the film we are making”. No one stepped in at anytime and told me or anyone to do anything different, to edit it a certain way, etc. Having done Crackerbag definitely helped and opened a lot of doors.

Jr: Did having Hugo Weaving help?

G: Definitely. It’s a pretty full on script, and people relax when you have a darker script with a name attached to it. Everyone is looking at how you can market the film and if you have Hugo in the role, Hugo can help sell the film.

Jr: At what stage did he come on board?

G: About two years ago. Once we were happy with the script. Then it was still probably another year before we got final go ahead. Everything takes so long; it is a very slow train to jump aboard. Which is why finding something that you are really in love with is important because there is a lot of times when it won’t be giving you any love back, but you have to keep loving it.

Jr: So how do you go about pitching to get funding?

G: I think I’m really bad at pitching, but I’ve had to do a lot of it, so hopefully I’m getting better. Some people are great at it. When it comes down to it though you can pitch the film in a really great way to someone but is that the person you want to make the film with? It’s about relationships, always about relationships. If someone says ‘No’ to you, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. You just have to find another way, or a cheaper way, or half a way, or another person to work with. You want to fund a film with people who want to make the film WITH YOU and vice versa. When we were really in the thick of raising money for Last Ride, we took a meeting with this creepy American guy, he was saying all the right things, and sounded impressive. But I had this really strong feeling. I thought, even if he takes out his cheque book and gives us the full amount right now, I won’t be able to accept it because I really don’t want to make the film with this guy; we wouldn’t be making the same film. And that would be a huge mistake.

Jr: Finally, have you any tips for the young filmmakers out there, no matter if they’re in high school, uni, or post-uni?

G: Get a camera, shoot stuff and cut it. There is no better experience than the experience itself. I kind of see filmmaking as a process of making millions of mistakes, so you have to get out there and start learning from the mistakes. I’m still making mistakes and learning from them and I think I will be forever.

I found music clips a really good way to learn. I always wanted to do film clips, but I had no idea how to get into it. The whole thing was demystified for me when I realised that even the people that are really good at film clips only do them for a certain amount of time, especially in Australia because the budgets are so small. Even if you are really good you can only pull so many favours for so long. So feel free to go into a record company with a basic show reel and say ‘I really want to make a film clip’ and in a few weeks you might get a small budget and a song to make a film clip for. Film clips are better in some ways if you are trying to learn about ‘craft’ (than say commercials), because most times you have more creative control, they’re longer so you have to shoot more and cut more, and they’ll always get shown on Rage. Whereas your first ads, you kind of don’t have a lot of control so you don’t really have a chance to show what you can do.

For me also it was about finding heroes. People who when you read their books or watch their films that you see that they weren’t ever being locked down to a style or a time or a place, but that they just did what they wanted to do. And that’s how they’ve gotten through their life and built an amazing career and body of work, by doing their own thing. There’s no right or wrong way. There’s a great book, Herzog on Herzog, it’s sort of my bible. He said “Even if you have to steal a camera, do it.” Just get out there and make something. It sort of rings in my ears sometimes. If it’s a feature film, a short, a music video or a commercial, they kind of sit in the same place for me, it’s all about setting up a camera, shooting something, cutting it, going through the process, it’s just fun. There’s no better job.

‘Last Ride’ is currently screening across Australia.

Glendyn Ivin is a Cannes winning, AFI toting, bearded film-maker with an ability to make cool shit. He’s been directing TV commercials for years now – some of which have made him very popular in the industry – but that’s not even the cool bit! He’s just released his first feature film titled Last Ride, featuring none other than Elrond himself, Hugo Weaving. Can you believe it? What a scoop! We’re totally journalists now. Who would have thought? Ha, OK, so this is how good we are at journalism: Last month we arranged to meet Glendyn at a swanky bar in Fitzroy. Running about ten minutes late after drinking some pints with Stan Lee, we stumbled out of the taxi, drunk as she-devils, and straightened ourselves up proper. What happens next? Will this be the interview that spells our demise? Ha! Of course not! Drinking makes us smarter! Read on and see…

Junior: Glendyn! Woo! We’re here. Sorry we’re late, we were getting drunk with Stan.

Glendyn Ivin: That’s cool boys. Let’s do this!

Jr: Here goes nuthin’! OK, so we heard you started out as a designer. How did you end up as a director? There’s gotta be a story there somewhere…

G: I studied Design at Newcastle in the early 90’s. I always wanted to do film when I was there. It was very different back then because it wasn’t like you could edit on any computer, and cameras weren’t everywhere, and the ones you could use were big clunky U-Mat or VHS. I was always inspired by film. I grew up in a country town and had no access to gear or anyone to help point me in the right direction, the path wasn’t as clear cut as what it could be now – it has changed a lot. These days you can edit a film on an iMac out of the box.

When I finished design school I moved to Melbourne because I thought it would be an easier place to make films. At that time, films like Romper Stomper, Proof, Spotswood, all came out in a row and I just thought, ‘I’ve got to go to Melbourne because that is where those films are made.’ It’s so geeky but when I first moved here I spent my time just going around and finding the locations where all those films were shot. The house from Dogs in Space is in Richmond – I was amazed that someone just put a camera there and shot it. It wasn’t this hallowed location – it’s just a house sitting there. It made everything very real and it felt obtainable.

I did get stuck working as a designer though and I got to the point where I turned 25 and had this early mid-life crisis, I knew I wasn’t doing what I wanted to do in my life. That year I applied for film school; I had always wanted to have a photographic exhibition so I did that – I just did the stuff that I wanted to do and never looked back.

Jr: Imagine if you never did that.

G: I know, exactly. My Dad freaked a little at the time – I quit my job and he just said, “What have you done? You’ve quit your job?! Maybe if you go and ask for it back they’ll give it to you.”

Jr: Gotta love parents!

G: I was like: “Dad, it’s not going to happen.” It was really weird. My Dad left home when I was five and I’m so glad he wasn’t around, if it meant I was going to be so full of those kind of thoughts I would never have had the experiences and opportunities I have had since quitting that design job.

Jr: Exactly! I read once, never listen to your parents; you will never get their approval because they don’t get what you are doing. You’ve got to be completely faithful in exactly what your vision is and nobody else matters, especially your parents. Do the opposite.

G: It’s easy for me to say this now but if you are not doing what you want to do and you are young without a mortgage and without kids – quit your job and go for it. Now that I am married with a mortgage and two kids, I still try not to let the fear of money and those ‘more sensible decisions’ determine what I am going to do. If I want to make an experimental art film, I can do that. Maybe I’ve got to do an ad campaign along side it, but I’m still going to do it. Because if I don’t, then I’m really not going to like my work overall.

Jr: When did you start at Exit Films?

G: When I left film school I knew I didn’t want to do design anymore. I didn’t want to do anything commercial at all. I had it in my head that I was just going to do purist, long form, observational documentary filmmaking. Even now when I think about filmmaking, it’s doco I’d love more than anything to do. Just me, a camera and a subject that you follow for ten years. I quickly realised though that no one is going to support you to do that. There is no funding for that kind of film.  So I had it in the back of my head that I was going to have to earn a living doing something.

Around that time an agency named Pure Creative – they’re not around anymore – came to the film school I was at and wanted to make little documentary ads. Which I guess ten years ago was pretty out there, but now there is a lot of work like that. It made me think, “Oh man, that sounds really bad.” It was for cat food. But I went along, and basically was told to go find people who like cats, make little documentaries about them, and cut them into 30 seconds. For every one that went to air they would give us $10,000. Ka-ching!

Jr: Money!

G: The carrot was big enough – it was dangling. But more than the carrot, I thought, “OK, alright, I want to make something”. I’d wanted the opportunity to get a camera, shoot it and cut it – this was it. In the end I went for it. I ended up ringing 3AW and got on air, chatted about what I was doing and then foolishly announced my home phone number. I think I ended up talking to 75 people on the phone, all cat lovers, and every one of them thinking their cat was great. I went out and met five people who I thought sounded good, and we shot four, cut three, and they bought one. I got some money, my first ad, and from that someone else I knew who was working for the Salvation Army wanted me to make an ad…

So anyway someone on the Salvos’s spot said I should go and have a chat to Exit Films. I had no idea who Exit was and I thought if I talked to them I should go see someone else too, kind of to get a second opinion. I went and saw Renegade, showed my reel and they thought it had some promise but they had a full house but said to stay in contact. Which I thought was great – it wasn’t a ‘no’. So I rang Exit and made an appointment. Garth (Davis) looked at my reel, and then he showed me his reel. It was similar work in some ways and we had a really good conversation. I liked his reel because it wasn’t ‘addy’ – even back in those days. I walked off and thought it was good to meet him, but I won’t get any work there because we were doing similar work. A day later Henrik (Damnerfjord – Exit’s founder) rang me and said he’d looked at my reel and to come in for a meeting. I walked in and he said ‘What do you want to do?’. It was a really powerful moment in my life because someone who owned a production company, that had a lot of work coming in, was asking me what I wanted to do. It was a hard question and I had to work out on the spot what I wanted to do. I wasn’t sure but I knew I wanted to make films. The experience of creating those little ads was really fun and I realised it could be a way to learn more about film and get paid. It was a big decision at the time for me.

Jr: So what did you say back?

G: I think I said I didn’t know if I wanted to tie myself down to a production company because I felt like I was getting a job, and I didn’t want a ‘job’. In hindsight you think, “Why would you not take a job at Exit if it was offered to you?” And then you realise how many people want to work at Exit. I took the position. I didn’t have a producer or anything; I was given a desk and eventually teamed up with Jane (Liscombe). I was so naïve, I didn’t know about how a production company worked or any of that stuff. I was given a few no budget jobs. But film clips are where I cut my teeth.

Jr: Yes! We heard about the work you did with Magic Dirt from Jack (Hutchings). He told us that working with you was the seed of his career.

G: When Jack came in, I saw him like he was a comrade. We were both beginning. Even though his reel wasn’t that great, he seemed like a cool guy, and I could see the potential in what he wanted to do. We just clicked straight away on that first job. We’ve been best friends since and I’ve cut everything I can with him. Same with Greig (Fraser). He was working as a runner when I rocked up to Exit. It was all punk-ass with Greig shooting, just the two of us, setting up the camera ourselves. It really cemented that fact of starting relationships with people very early on in your career and going through the world together. What I’m doing, what Jack’s doing, and what Greig’s doing – we’ve kind of all climbed up and helped each other on that ladder. I read recently that you choose people for their hearts not their CVs. I guess that really rings true for me. The thing about doing commercials is that I get to work with a whole heap of people, and even though they all do the job, you realise that they all do the job differently. And discovering and negotiating that difference is the most important thing.

Jr: That’s one of the best pieces of advice I think we’ve ever had. Early on in Junior we were all about networking being a stupid fucking buzzword and it was all about making friends. And obviously to keep developing together.

G: It might sound wanky, but I see them as sacred alliances. That first Magic Dirt clip I cut with Jack, we both sweated over it frame by frame probably more than we ever have on any job since. But there was someone who was as dedicated as I was trying to make it as good as it could be. Same with Greig. When you are in that zone, you become a machine and you try to find other people who will become machines as well, to encourage and bounce ideas off each other. It doesn’t feel like networking, it feels like you are hanging out with your friends.

Jr: There are a lot of creatives who go straight into university then straight into production companies or newspapers or advertising agencies and they become very involved in the corporate or professional world, and they’ve lost sight of getting in touch with human nature. As a storyteller, storytelling is about real human experience and it’s hard to do that when you’ve been living in a professional world. Do you try and look back on your childhood – is that where you get your ideas from?

G: For me I just try to immerse myself in as many different things as possible, and get inspired from a whole lot of different areas. Talk-back radio, or public transport, or high fashion mags. I search for inspiration like I’m trying to quench a thirst. I’m always trying to find stuff that makes me think ‘Fuck, I wish I did that’, just to push you a little bit further. The more experience in life you can get the better. You know those books, ‘It’s not how good you are, it’s how good you want to be’ – they’re full of those things. Getting the sack can be a really good thing. Getting your heart broken can be a really good thing. Having an argument with someone could be a really good thing. Seeing someone shot…? I don’t know… I’m just trying to think, you know, all these things people try and shelter themselves from. They’re hard things, but that’s where you learn things. You don’t know you are alive until you have to struggle a little.

Jr: Have you ever been through a really dark time?

G: Oh yeah. Absolutely. I think it’s in my personality that I constantly ride that line between light and dark.

Jr: It’s all about hindsight! You can look back and say, “Oh it was horrible but jee, that was really good for me to go through’.

G: There are definitely a lot of things happening for me in my life at the moment where I can’t wait for the hindsight to kick in so I can say ‘Ahh, I know why that was happening, and now I can use that in my work.’

Jr: Haha! Yes. I think we all do.

G: The good and the bad, you’ve got to have it. But you know, sometimes you see work that feels so immersed in someone’s personal experience that you can’t actually access it. I think good art is where it feels like it is coming from your own heart, but someone else can access it as well.

Jr: As a young twenty-something did you travel and see the world? Or did you stay in Melbourne?

G: I started to travel later than I wanted to. My first trip overseas was to Japan by myself – I think I was 28. It was the most amazing experience. I don’t think I blinked for three weeks; I just soaked up every single experience. I thought Japan would have a western edge to it, but it doesn’t. They take it and they consume it and then they make it their own. Even things that were familiar were done very differently. It was an alien world. It was an alien version of what our world is. Everything you do whether it is buying a drink or walking down the street or seeing a concert or something, it’s all through very different eyes. It’s all being interpreted very differently.

Jr: How long did you stay?

G: I was only there for a few weeks. I had just finished film school. I think what it did in a very refined yet intense way was begin to hone my own way of seeing things. If we were in Japan right now, everything would be new. I try and take a step back and try and see everything new, keeping your eyes wide open and observing. I try to see everything with fresh eyes all the time. We’re all trying to find inspiration, and find the clues about who we are and why we are the way we are.

There’s still plenty more where that came from. Part Two coming tomorrow!

It’s no use calling yourself a creative if you don’t make things. We learned that lesson last week. But what to do? Where do you start? “I need briefs!” – Graduate student, 22.  “I need inspiration!” – Artsy Schmartzy Dude, 24.  Bah! You don’t need nuthin’. All you need is to start. If even that’s giving you grief, here’s some suggestions from our resident whip-cracker, Stan.

You don’t need me to tell you that getting a full time creative job takes time. It can take months, even years. Yes years.

But if making a living out of being creative is what you want to do, what you really want to do, then you will get a job. Eventually.

So what can you do in the meantime to put your creativity to good use?

Got an idea for a short film or a TV ad? Get some friends together, grab a video camera and post your work to YouTube. Believe me, it’s easier than you think.
You could start a blog. But there are literally a billion blogs already, so if you start one use your creativity to put together something new, different and uniquely you.
If you enjoy writing, set up a Twitter account. There’s no better way to sharpen your skills than by churning out pithy 140 character bon mots on a regular basis.
Photographers should be regularly posting photos to photography sites. Just be sure to set up an email list and let people know whenever you post new work.

Art directors and designers can get work by offering their services to local businesses. If a handful of shops in your area let you makeover their logo, or design a flyer for them, you’ll quickly fill a folio with real work.

There are loads of ways to put your creative skills to work. And all of them will make you more employable. As long as you understand that getting a job takes time.

If you want to be a creative there’s only one thing to do – create. Make stuff every day. Someone once told us, “There is no right or wrong – only make.” This week Stan does what he does best, reminding us why we’re here and what to do.

So you wanna be a creative do you?
OK then. Tell me what you’ve created this week?
“Well….It’s a bit hard at the moment. Um….I work in a café a couple of afternoons a week, so it’s hard to find the time.”
That, my young friends, is a snippet of a conversation I had this week with a wannabe copywriter who came to show me her folio.
She had a pretty good book to be honest. But It hadn’t really changed since the last time she’d come to see me three months ago.
Which is, to be totally blunt, not bloody good enough.
If you want to be a creative, you must create. Not now and again. Not just on the weekend. You must create whenever and however you can.
You should be constantly adding to your folio. If it stagnates, so too will your chances of getting a job.
So if you’d rather come up with excuses than great ideas, do yourself (and me) a favour and go get a job in an accounting firm.

What does one say about writer and artist Todd Lamb? This guy is an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a girl’s hoodie. He’s one of those guys who has ‘a finger’ in a lot of ‘pies’, but above all else is a genuinely funny guy. And when we say genuinely funny guy we actually mean fucking hilarious man of steel with balls the size of Obama’s brain. Before settling in New York City, Todd spent his years at three highly awarded US ad agencies, has written for several publications, had books published, directed TV commercials, done his fair share of stand-up comedy and has a world record for sitting on Whoopee Cushions recorded on Jimmy Fallon live. He’s also writing and developing an animation series called the Bloody Band Aidz. Did we mention he won an Emmy? No? Well he’s got one of those too. So although he may be an enigma with big balls, he definitely knows how to get shit done and win praise for it. We talked over email and this is what happened…

Junior: Hey Todd. First thing’s first, we heard you won an Emmy? Is it real?

Todd: Not only is it real, it’s shiny, golden and buried in my parent’s basement. When I lived in San Francisco, I stored it in my refrigerator to guard my beer and yogurt. Now it’s in Chicago, in a box until further notice (forever).

Jr: You’ve worked at W+K Portland, Goodby Silverstein in San Fran, and Mother in New York. How did you go from uni student to working at three of the world’s great agencies?

T: “The world’s great agencies”. That’s funny. They’ve done great stuff, but it’s important to know that these are businesses, just like a pet store or a fruit stand. You should be aware of that. This isn’t a bunch of hippies sitting around a commune, cracking jokes.

The one thing I did do is go to school, worked hard, finished school, and now I write every day. Writing is such a great skill to work at and grow with. After you find your voice, you can expand endlessly on it for your whole life. Great writers are unstoppable. No one can touch them.

Jr: We’re getting so bored of advertising. We’ve been doing a lot of ad interviews lately. How do you feel about advertising as a non-vapid alternative guy with a beard and some sense who’s seen some success in his career?

T: I had to look-up the word “vapid” to know what you were talking about. (Editor’s note: Sorry man. Next time we won’t use a thesaurus.) I can tell you this: I do have a beard. That makes me the object of every straight woman’s desire and every lesbian’s secret fantasy.

Advertising can be an amazing way to make things and collaborate with talented people. When the stars line-up: agency, client, co-workers, ideas—that feels nice. But, you should be very picky about who you give your ideas to and who you spend your time with. In the end, surround yourself with nice people that you genuinely trust, and you’ll be OK.

Jr: You’re freelance now, and it sounds like you’ve been quite busy. For the younger freelance readers out there, (who may be writers, designers, film-makers, photographers, etc) have you any tips on making contacts and picking the right jobs?

T: I just read in a book about chess that the word “freelance” comes from a soldier who would take his sword wherever they needed him, to fight in return for payment. Hence, the word “free” and “lance” together. I like that. I don’t have any advice other than freelancing is 100% gambling. It’s unsteady and with no guarantees. So you better be brave and you better be OK with falling flat on your face. But I recommend everyone try it, it is a different way to live.

Jr: Ok, so writing. You’ve done quite a bit of ‘extra-curricular’ writing outside of your daily work…

T: The idea of “extra-curricular” doesn’t exist. Writing is writing. Everything is valid and every form (ads, television, short films, books, magazines, the internet) needs good, humorous writing. Nowadays it’s all the same. This is a great thing for young people because there are so many choices.

Jr: We hear you’ve been working on an animation series about band-aids. We have friends who are super keen to start writing scripts and pitching them but have no idea where to start. What’s the process been for you so far?

T: It’s called the Bloody Band Aidz (www.bloodybandaidz.com). We developed it for a cable network. TV show development is a crazy thing. It takes people years to get a show on the air. Whether you’re Andy Richter or Dave Chappelle or someone else, the fame doesn’t always help you in the development process. It’s kind of like a two-year version of pitching an idea for a magazine article, but there’s a good chance you won’t get to do the project. So, if you want to try inventing a new TV show, know that it takes patience.

Jr: Man, we saw you on Jimmy Fallon too, and we’ll go out on a limb and say it was a wince – just for the record. How did that whole shebang come about?

T: There is a thing in NYC called the Universal Record Database which is a monthly event on stage where people can break world records. It’s part stand-up comedy and part “feats of strength”. So, Jimmy Fallon’s producer saw some of the videos on the site and asked us to come on the show. It was a great time. Jimmy Fallon is such a nice guy. He was so gracious to his guests. To watch him work is amazing.

Jr: We should probably say something about the Chris posters. The story has become a bit of a sensation down here is Oz. We need the hits so bear with us. Why did you do them in the first place and how do you feel about the dude who ripped you off?

T: I did “Notes From Chris” to make people laugh. It’s that simple. To make people’s day better and to entertain myself along the way.

So, some guy in Australia tried to steal the posters, even word-for-word in some cases. I think the act of taking someone’s ideas and claiming them as your own is the lowest thing a human being can do, other than crapping on the hood of your neighbor’s car. Desperate people do things like steal. But thankfully, the guy who tried to steal my idea got exposed by the media and called-out as a thief.

“Notes From Chris” is my ongoing project, so you’ll see more of them soon around NYC and online. Stay tuned to www.toddlamb.net

Jr: And finally, say there’s some budding comedy writers out there who are keen to be a sponge and learn their shit. Got any suggestions for books or mags or movies they should be sponging?

T: Albert Brooks, Woody Allen, Conan O’Brian, Letterman, Freaks And Geeks, Mr. Show. I find 30 Rock to be totally amazing and brilliant. The list goes on forever and everyone has their own comedy taste. No one is right and no one is wrong.

Get a Netflix account and watch everything funny that was ever made. Then get some sleep, have a cup of coffee, think real hard, and go make some funny stuff.

In our downtime it’s easy to slack off. You might get drunk with friends, watch TV and eat chips or sleep all day. Sometimes fun, never productive. The key is to do stuff you enjoy while continuing to better yourself. So this week, Stan has a movie list. Much like his reading list, this is a gift from us to you so that you may have fun and become better at what you do, all at the same time.

Next Monday is Labour Day in Victoria. It’s a day where working people take time out to celebrate not going to work for a day.

So this week I’m going to recommend some inspiring films for you to watch over the upcoming long weekend.

These are not action films. Nor are they chick flicks. They’re films about great creative people. If you want to become one yourself, then these films are required viewing.

Helvetica
You won’t believe how interesting and entertaining a film about a typeface could be.

I am trying to break your heart
Fly on the wall documentary on the band Wilco. If you think creative collaboration is easy this film will change your mind.

Sketches of Frank Gehry
If you’ve ever doodled unintelligible scribbles on a scrap of paper you’ll love this look at one of the greatest creative minds of the 20th century.

Antonio Gaudi
Japanese director Hiroshi Teshigahara lets the out of this world creativity of Antonio Gaudi speak for itself in this almost wordless documentary.

That’s right folks. It’s days like today that mean we as Australians get the chance to live a pleasurable life. (And if you’re not an Australian, listen up. This goes for you too.) So why not use this opportunity to reflect on the Americans – Our crazy over zealous brethren from the North. Because although they may be crazy and over zealous, they are also very good at raising the bar. Especially on a day of national importance like today. So instead of downing a few stubbies in the backyard, read this post by Stan and reflect on what you might be able to achieve this year.

“It’s never crowded along the extra mile” wrote positive thinking pioneer Wayne Dyer many years ago.

He’s right too.

But if you’re happy to settle for mediocrity, that’s fine by me.

And if you’re the sort of person who thinks that you don’t need to have amazing ideas to succeed in the creative industries, that fine by me too.

I couldn’t care less in fact.

For those of you who are interested in the journey along the extra mile, I’ll leave you with this excerpt from the inauguration speech of Barack Obama. A man who is more than familiar with that sparsely populated stretch of road.

“Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the fainthearted – for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame.

Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things – some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor — who have carried us up the long, rugged path toward prosperity and freedom.”

Cut and paste. It used to mean scissors and clag, now it means ctrl+x and ctrl+v. Be that good or bad, it’s still an art form. And for some, it’s also a career. Jack Hutchings is one of Australia’s top cut and pasters. He’s a film editor with an eye for storytelling and now runs his own editing studio, The Butchery. Now we love having a yarn now an then, but Junior has really upped the stakes. Jack invited us over to his studio for gourmet North Melbourne pizza and a row of beers. Yes, awesome. But what came out of our beer fueled yarn was a portrait of a creative who had made it his own way – without climbing ladders, stroking egos or taking his time. And yes, he gave us a few tips on how to do the same.

Junior: Start by telling us what you do.

Jack: I’m a film editor and I edit television commercials, short films and occasionally longer films. In fact, very, very occasionally because I’ve only done one – and it isn’t finished yet.

Jr: Oooh. We’ll keep our eyes peeled for your line in the credits. You own and run The Butchery, how’d that come about?

Jack: Well, I was freelance editing for six or seven years, cutting for directors here and overseas. But I got bored of working in other people’s spaces as a freelancer and wanted to create something that was mine. So The Butchery is that. It’s an extension of the space I wanted to work in. Unfortunately it doesn’t really work being freelance and being the only person in the space – so what have I got to do? I’ve got to get another editor to work in the place, and someone to clean up after us and look after our shit and boss us around as well as look after agency people that come in and pander to directors and their needs and wants.

Jr: So how did you start out in editing?

Jack: I started a little company with a guy I was friends with at the time, and we started doing anything and everything we could to do with film. Things like making little video clips, shooting little promo things and cutting people’s Tropfest films together and other such stuff. Then I started freelance editing because I started cutting for someone and realised I’d found something I totally loved doing.

Jr: Did you know it was even a job? To edit something?

Jack: I knew there were people doing it, but I had no idea that I would like it. I didn’t know any editors, put it that way. So I was self-taught. I went into this production company with a reel of stuff that I’d put together over the years. And went hey, I can do this.

Jr: Was it good?

Jack: I watched it a few years later, and was like “oh my god.” But the funny thing was that one of the directors that I’d showed the ‘reel’ to – I’m now cutting his feature film with him right now. The first job I did with him was in 2000. It was a music video that I did for no money. I’d got a call from the reel I’d sent them and they’d liked it. They said, “hey! Come in, we’ve got no money, but we’ve seen what you’ve done and we liked it. We saw something in it, so come in, we need someone”. A few years later the same guy told me, “look, it wasn’t what was on the reel, it was that you’d made shit into something. You’d taken shit and polished it, so I knew that if I gave you something half decent, you’d make it better than what it was.”

That video ended up doing really well for them, it was for a local band, Magic Dirt. And it did more than they anticipated. The two of us had a natural progression. If you get into a groove with someone you stick with it. So he got into commercials and I started cutting commercials for him. Then other people in the company said, “hey, who is this guy you’re working with?” Then by the end of a couple of years you’re working with everyone in that company.

Jr: So you made your break by forming an alliance with somebody?

Jack: Yeah definitely. Finding someone like minded who you go well with, especially when it’s totally chance, has been great. I’d set-up a meeting and a month later they called saying, “we’ve got no money, but come in and we’ll see what you can do”.

Jr: So all the jobs you started with, they came with that “no money” disclaimer?

Jack: Yeah they come with that caveat and that’s fine – you have to do it. Film is one of those industries where there’s this idea that initially you’re “having to bend over” to get a way in.

Jr: Did you have to support yourself then?

Jack: It’s one of those things where you look back and go, “how the hell did I live?” But you do it because you love it. I drove my shitty little Datsun 1600 or whatever, and had a lot of fun and learned a lot. And the thing with editing is that you do learn a lot. There are always different challenges and thousands of decisions.

Jr: You know, editing is an enigmatic thing to a lot of people. The funny thing for us is when you go to the MADC awards and there’s the award for best editing – we have no idea why it’s good editing.

Jack: Editing awards are impossible because for me an ad shouldn’t get an editing award if it’s not a good ad.

Jr: So the guy who’s editing the Delfin ads – no hope?

Jack: I don’t know man, best use of logo over 3 seconds maybe? It’s funny the whole advertising awards thing. I’d never really entered before. I’ve never entered an award myself.

Jr: But you won a silver CLIO just this year didn’t you?

Jack: Again, I didn’t enter that. Normally now the production company or agency enters the work. I’ve told people that it means more to me that they enter my work than winning itself. The fact that they think, “we like your work and we think it has merit in an international arena”, then that’s enough for me. And I would prefer any job to win a Lion or a best ad, than best editing. Over and above. Easy.

Jr: So can you really stuff up an ad? Have you seen bad editing stuff up an ad?

Jack: No comment. Ha. I think you can influence things. It would be really interesting to take the same material and give it to different editors. Most directors have a good sense of storytelling which is what editing is. Peter, who is the young guy working here – he’s 27. He’s been working with me well over a year now. If people say they want to come and sit with me and hang out, then that’s totally cool – he was one of those people. And he had a really good sense of storytelling. There’s really three parts to being a good editor. There’s the story telling part. Then there’s the people skills – which is being able to chat to anyone. Then there’s the technical side of it as well. He’s got all three. Plus he’s done AWARD School and knows what an idea is. He can read a script and get it. And that’s important to me.

Jr: So how did he come across you?

Jack: He was directing a music video with a mate. He took over the edit from someone else and did a really good job. Then he stumbled upon me and started assisting me for a while. I had never assisted anyone when I was coming up through the ranks, and I kind of wanted him to do the same thing. I just don’t want people to assist too much, because you can get stuck in a rut if you get too good at your role.

Jr: We’ve heard that about photographer’s assistants becoming too good. They become known as good assistants rather than good photographers.

Jack: There’s thousands of assistant editors out there. You know they’re great assistants, but until you actually physically try to put two pieces of film together – that’s when you’re cutting. There’s the watching how people do things and then there’s you, alone, just sitting in front of a computer and trying. You only learn from your mistakes, and you’ve got to make mistakes for yourself. Then there’s all the other pressures – having creative directors in the room, presenting to clients, knowing when not to say anything and knowing when to distract attention away. You know, dealing with difficult people.

Jr: Have you had a CD tell you you were bad?

Jack: Yep, one told me, “you’re fucked”. That was pretty early on, and he was just testing me. People like to test you. There’s a lot of people out there with big personalities.

Jr: Any final tips?

Jack: Everyone talks, so start doing. It’s not about being told. You don’t want to be an operator, you want to think for yourself. You have to be able to probe the idea. It’s so easy to try things in an edit suite. If you’re a writer it’s like copy and pasting in word. So think for yourself, don’t just be an operator. They’re hiring you for your point of view. So I agree with Penny, if you want to do it, go out and do it yourself. If you want to be a writer, go out and write a blog. Because people will take notice. And that’s the same with me, in my experience, go out and be self-taught. Like you guys, you’ve got Junior with 400 people who have signed up in two weeks. People take notice.

Jack supplied us with an ad he recently edited. It’s pretty great.

So here it is. It’s titled Schweppes ‘Burst’: