My experience making The Workshop has been beyond my wildest dreams as a filmmaker and a human being. When I first decided to enter the ten day intensive workshop with Paul Lowe in California, I had only a vague idea of what to expect. I knew that the aim of the workshop was to discover the truth about who we are in an environment conducive to such a goal and that the exercises were going to be challenging. I could never have, however, prepared myself for how intense the experience actually was. My first problem was that, initially, the “story” was not clear to me. Even as the workshop progressed, I continued to feel that the subject matter was so elusive that it could not be captured on film. I recall Paul Lowe telling me that several people had tried to make films about the workshops but none were able to finish. I could easily see why.
In order to document his workshop, Paul insisted that I go through the process myself. I couldn’t just be an observer; I needed to fully engage myself as a participant in my own process. The workshop was primary while the filming was secondary. Such a method went against everything I knew as creative filmmaker. I always took an active role in creating the film, the story, the image, the concept; I always prided my self on my forward, proactive approach to my work. Now I was told not to do anything, and to simply trust the process and see what happened. The feeling of being out of control was very challenging for me. This uncontrollability, however, was what the workshop was all about. Only by letting go of our ideas of who we are and what we believe in can we discover what lies underneath. We have to strip way our social conditioning, our inhibitions, our patterns of behaviour and our concepts of what is good and bad, real or unreal. Underneath all that veneer, all the images of ourselves that we have built up over the years, is who we really are. I discovered that I have built up a very positive image of myself- sweet, funny, cool, clever, and creative. As the workshop progressed, however, I realized that these were all masks to hide my fear, my jealousy, and my longing to be loved and accepted.
The most challenging aspect of the experience was to maintaining enough focus to film while discovering myself. Very soon I had abandoned all my previous conceptions of what the film was going to be about. I only knew that it needed to be about self-discovery but I had no idea how it will narrate or what its style would be.
What was scary and ultimately exciting was that I was literally living in every moment with no regard to the future. My aim was to just keep shooting. I was there alone, with no crew, no help, and none of my usual support systems. I was out at sea without a paddle, treading into unknown territory. But the truth was, even though it was really challenging, I loved the whole experience. I loved the freedom to say whatever I liked, to be naked and free of all those restrictions. I can honestly say that I was more alive in those ten days that ever before in my life.
Before long, it became apparent that I had to be part of the film. The more I opened myself up, the more people trusted their vulnerability with me. As the ten days progressed, I naturally gravitated to several people who allowed me to film their most intimate moments and these individuals become my central characters. Since I had no crew, if I was going through something important, I would just hand the camera to one the people next to me. That was the beauty of this kind of filmmaking. I just put the camera on auto focus and passed it over. Many times I was in such a state of personal unravel that I didn’t even have time to do basic camera checks. I love the style of hand held camera and the idea that the camera is an eye and does not interfere with the subject. This type of shooting was perfect for the type of film I had hoped to make.
When I returned home, I didn’t even look at the material for several months since I was so overwhelmed by the personal experiences I had gone through. One evening, when I was out, my producer, who was also my flat mate, came across the rushes and put them on. When I came home late that evening, he was still up and completely mesmerized by what he was watching. He had never seen footage like this and that it was honest and raw and I had to edit it together. This was the beginning of a journey even more intense than the filming. The edit took me over one year and, in a sense, through another workshop. I spent hours and hours listening to what Paul had to say, listening and watching myself fall apart on camera and trying to make head or tail of our journey.
Many people agreed to be filmed, but I don’t think most ever thought that it would amount to anything. As the edit progressed, however, and I got an investor to agree to finish the film, reality set in on many of the people documented. As time went on, the characters had become less associated with their own process and more fearful of what the repercussions of being exposed in this way would be for themselves in their work and in their normal lives. Luckily, some of my main characters had the strength and commitment to the subject to take a risk. Others, though, fought with me and even threatened legal action. In the film, I did my best to cut them out and blur their faces. In the end, I managed to cut a film despite all these problems.
I obtained a sales agent on the rough cut and he sent it to my favourite film festival, the Tribeca Film Festival. To my great joy and total amazement, they accepted the film. On the other hand, I now had one month to finish the film. It was an intense period, but I finally got a good version ready.
The premier had its share of ups and downs, but mostly, it was an amazing experience. One of the characters that had initially agreed to the film suddenly panicked and wanted to stop the film. He threatened Tribeca with legal action the day before the premier, but they stayed firm and went ahead with the screening. 500 people turned up in a cinema in Times Square; it was a full house! I had never even seen the film other than on a small TV screen, so I was worried about how it would stand up on a giant movie screen in a theatre with a live audience. At first, the showing seemed to be geared for disaster because the projector broke down! Thankfully, it was quickly fixed and the movie premiered just one hour behind schedule. Amazingly, the audience loved the film!
The journey continued on from there. A wonderful independent in the UK called Revolver picked up the film and I did more festivals. To me, the most remarkable aspect of this experience was the audience’s response. After each screening, we would hold a ten-minute Question and Answer. These sessions, however, would go on for ages. Questions kept on pouring in and sometimes we would continue for more than an hour. The questions were often about the subject than the film since I clearly seemed to have hit a nerve in the audience.
My discovery while making this film was that we never know….anything! Life is a journey, and if we dare to step outside our comfort zone, we will always be ok and find other ways to live. I have learned so much from this experience and now deal with my relationships with much more honesty and openness. I am now strong enough to show my vulnerability, and as a result, people are more willing to open up to me, and this in turn, has enriched my life in so many ways.
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