How Goldfish Came to Be

Some years after I graduated from Temple's MFA program in the early 90's, my classmate Jonathan sent me a script by John Kolvenbach -- a friend of his from Middlebury College.  Jonathan had hoped I might get the play produced in Philadelphia, where I had taken up residence as an actor.

The play was Goldfish, which I loved passionately upon my first reading.  I thought it was a uniquely perceptive representation of the agonies and ecstasies of love.  

I flogged the play to every theatre in Philadelphia (hoping to be cast as Leo), but no one bit.

A friend of mine suggested it might make a good movie -- small cast, no car chases or explosions, which might keep the cost low.

The idea gestated in me for some years, then became irresistible.  I started to read books and online content about filmmaking, and took to heart the common counsel of most accomplished directors: if you want to learn filmmaking, just start.  Learn by doing.

I was inspired, too, by Stephen Soderbergh, who had shot two beautiful and successful features on smartphones.  I thought, in the digital age, the expense of filmmaking need not be crippling.  Without the cost of actual film and tape, this should be within my grasp.

I put together an initial budget of $30,000 (which ultimately rose to $46,000, all told), then begged money from dear family and friends.  Of course, $46,000 sounds like an obscene amount to any reasonable person, but, in the world of filmmaking, it still falls well below the threshold of "ultra-low budget."

I had consulted with another filmmaker, who told me that I should expect to spend $10,000 a day on production, and get my actors to work for free.  I insisted on paying actors and crew alike, and, in the end, we shot for about $3,000 a day.  That still seemed like an awful lot to me, and the pressure to make good use of that money drove me to pick up cigarettes again during production!

With a cast of 4 and a crew of 3 (plus me), we shot 11 days over 6 months (actor schedules are hell to coordinate).  I shot on an iPhone 14 Pro Max, using the Filmic Pro camera app, and recorded sound on a Zoom H6 digital audio recorder.

I edited a rough cut together in about 5 months more.  I spent the next 6 months sharpening up the edit, and getting music into the project (copyrighted music accounts for the late ballooning of the budget).  

On December 10, 2024 (coincidentally the 12th anniversary of my sobriety), I submitted a final cut to FilmFreeway, and began to submit the film to festivals.  I felt as if I'd crossed the finish line of a long, long race.

I could not have predicted how addictive the process is.  As tedious as a shoot day can be, sometimes an actor does something miraculous during a take, and it's intoxicating to know (and confirm in dailies) that that lightning has been caught in a bottle: that moment of inspiration has been preserved, and can be disseminated all over the world, to as many people as might want to see it.  To cobble together the edit until it starts to look and sound like a movie is as satisfying as assembling a vast jigsaw puzzle -- or even a small cathedral.  

I learned a ton making Goldfish, and continue to learn more about filmmaking all the time.  I've been a theatre actor for 32 years, but I've loved this project, and I want to do more and better movies.  

Here's hoping that Goldfish will be the gateway to future projects and collaborations, and that I will make cinema that is more and more successful as a thing of beauty, and a monument to the human spirit.