Now that I have told my wonderful boss that I am leaving, I feel free to write about the process of applying to film schools. I applied to NYU, Texas and UCLA in America and the German Film and Television Academy in Berlin for Directing. NYU and the DffB rejected me outright. Texas didn’t get a form and graciously told me 4 months later in a rejection letter. I interviewed for UCLA in New York, then flew home to Berlin to anxiously await a response which didn’t come when I was told it would. After a few international phone calls (I was hellishly impatient) I was placed on the wait list. I moved on with life, got a new job here for a production company, and swore off all film schools. I made a short and started planning my next screenplay. A week ago I got an email from UCLA. I knew I was in. It was a hard choice, but I think going there is the right one. A friend of mine used the following example in an email, which I found most convincing:
“I definitely think you’d be a bit crazy not to go to UCLA. Sounds like the timing is certainly non-ideal, and that things are working out well in Berlin. However.
However, however. Let’s think about this. You have an interesting film job at the moment, etc., etc. And, there’s certainly no reason, really, artistically speaking and ability-wise, that you do Need to go to grad school. However, given the way that the world works otherwise, I think you do. Or, at the very least, it will for instance be far easier to continue getting jobs with a degree from UCLA. In fact, it’ll probably be difficult not to at least have work after going to UCLA. I’m being far less articulate than I’d like, but I imagine the picture is getting across.
An analogy: I want to be the world’s foremost expert on bees’ knees. A man in the amazon, call him Winifred, is currently the world’s foremost expert on bees’ things, which are as close to bees’ knees as any other aspect of apian anatomy. Now, let’s say (and I’m not saying this is true of UCLA) that Winifred happens to be totally fucking senile. At the same time, most people are woefully ignorant of this fact. Say that you’re currently working on a wonderful project on bees’ ankles, but that this isn’t your true passion. Leaving the bee ankle project may, in the short term, be a serious inconvenience, and working with Winifred C. Tiggle (he also has a last name) may be sort of maddening; he might, for instance, actually know jack shit about bee knees. Regardless, as far as your future employers are concerned, the choice for you, with respect to your future, given that you want to be the world’s foremost expert on bees’ knees, is clear-cut (given that they’re ignorant but have money). Work with Winifred. It won’t make you any less-informed about bee knees, and it’ll look good. Plus, Winifred might well be totally lucid (I doubt that UCLA is a bumbling jackass).”
Not a bad argument. It won me over.
