What This Year Taught Me About Making Films the Right Way
A year of structure, setbacks, and quiet wins that reshaped Ragged Films.
At the beginning of this year, I thought progress in filmmaking would feel louder.
More announcements. More selections. More moments where things suddenly “clicked” and doors flew open. That is how success is usually framed in this industry. If something big does not happen publicly, it can feel like nothing happened at all.
That idea did not survive this year.
What I learned instead is that the most important growth often happens offscreen. It happens in planning documents, in crew conversations, in how you respond to rejection, and in whether you can repeat your process without burning yourself or your team out.
This year did not turn Ragged Films into something flashy. It turned it into something solid.
From Hustle to Design
Earlier in my career, I treated filmmaking like a hustle problem. If I just worked harder, moved faster, and said yes to everything, momentum would eventually appear. That approach works for a short time. Then it collapses.
This year forced a shift from hustle to design.
Every part of Beneath the Same Sky was approached intentionally. Writing was tied to production reality. Locations were chosen based on story and logistics, not fantasy. Schedules were built to protect energy instead of squeezing every possible minute out of the day.
I stopped asking, “How much can we get done?” and started asking, “What actually matters?”
That change shaped everything that followed.
The First Professional Short Changed My Expectations
Beneath the Same Sky was my first truly professional short film. Not because of budget size or ambition, but because of how it was run.
We hired cast. We paid people. We worked with a real crew. We trained young people who wanted to learn filmmaking. We shot the majority of the film at Harbor Island Studios, a space that made the work feel legitimate and possible at the same time.
For the first time, I was not pretending to be a director. I was responsible for a team.
That responsibility sharpened every decision. It made me care less about appearances and more about outcomes. It also made me realize that leadership is not about authority. It is about clarity.
Structure Did Not Limit Creativity. It Protected It
One of the biggest lessons of the year was this: structure does not silence creativity. It gives it room to breathe.
We shared information that most productions keep hidden. Storyboards. Schedules. Call sheets. Daily updates. Everyone knew the plan and the purpose behind it.
That transparency changed behavior. People stopped waiting to be told what to do. They started thinking ahead. They started solving problems together.
The set did not feel rigid. It felt calm.
That calm showed up on screen.
Not Being Selected Was Still Progress
I submitted Beneath the Same Sky to Sundance knowing the odds. It was not selected.
Earlier in my career, that outcome would have felt crushing. This year, it felt instructive.
The submission was strategic. The film was complete. The process was clean. The work was strong enough to belong in the conversation.
That matters.
Rejection did not erase the work. It clarified where the film belongs and what it needs next. It also reinforced something important: festival submissions are not lottery tickets. They are part of a longer plan.
Progress is not always visible, but it compounds.
Post-Production Is Where Films Usually Die
This year made me deeply aware of how many films stall after wrap. The excitement fades. The footage piles up. Decisions get delayed.
That did not happen here because post-production was designed before the shoot began.
Files were named clearly. Folder structures mirrored the shoot. Reviews happened in Frame.io with timecoded notes. We maintained two cuts: a festival cut and a director’s cut, each with a clear purpose.
Editing became focused work instead of a struggle to regain momentum.
That discipline came directly from years of professional experience working with clients like Hulu and Microsoft, and from mentorship shaped by people who understand how Netflix-level workflows function. Those lessons finally clicked in a narrative context.
Leadership Is About How People Feel on the Way Out
After the film wrapped, we asked the crew for feedback. The responses mattered more than any selection notice.
People described the set as clear, respectful, and supportive. Actors talked about feeling safe exploring their performances. Crew members said communication was strong and expectations were clear.
That feedback was not accidental. It came from designing the environment with care.
A production does not succeed because everyone is talented. It succeeds because people feel trusted and prepared.
Community Is Not Optional
Harbor Island Studios was not just a location. It was a foundation. It allowed us to work professionally in our own city and to train people who want to build careers here.
Seattle’s filmmaking community is fragile and powerful at the same time. It only survives if we protect the infrastructure that supports it.
This year made that responsibility real.
What Changed Inside Ragged Films
Ragged Films is not chasing volume anymore.
We are building repeatable process. We are choosing collaborators carefully. We are prioritizing sustainability over speed.
That means fewer projects and stronger ones. Clearer communication. Better preparation. More respect for the people doing the work.
It also means being patient.
What Comes Next
Next year is not about proving anything. It is about execution.
The systems are in place. The lessons are learned. The bar is higher.
We will keep building films that are intentional, humane, and grounded in process. We will keep writing about what actually works. We will keep investing in people and community.
This year did not give Ragged Films applause.
It gave us a foundation.
And that is far more valuable.
