It’s our last couple of days in Los Angeles!  My “area of interest” for this class was all about memory, how Hollywood recalls and profits on the nostalgic.  During the last three weeks, I’ve been studying and remembering the past so it’s only fitting, in my last blog post, that I do the same. Excuse me as I get fairly sentimental, which honestly isn’t too out of character for me.

What I’ve realized in the last three weeks is that we’re all striving, in one way or another, for the “I made it” moment. I was taking an Uber this morning and the driver asked me what I was doing in Los Angeles. After a fairly long conversation about Colorado College’s alternative schedule and my general indecision on my post-graduate plans, he concluded with “Well, I hope you make it big!”

I’d never really thought about my life that way, as a story told through the milestones, the “I made it” moments. But life is defined by the turning points, especially in Hollywood. In Los Angeles, a person’s success is often defined by the “before” and “after” moment. But I’d like to think it’s more gradual than that. Life doesn’t need to be compartmentalized into an arbitrary designation of “the moment when.”  Los Angeles is full of success stories, but it is also full of people struggling to perfect their art. In my mind, the latter isn’t any less valid than the former.

We went out to lunch earlier this week with voice actor Dee Bradley Baker. Browsing through Baker’s prolific career, there is no doubt that he’s been successful. I asked him when he felt like “he made it,” the ultimate search for the struggling actor. His response: “When I could pay the bills.” And maybe the “I made it” moment is as simple as that.  Not all success is as visible as walking across a stage and receiving a diploma or even hearing your voice on television for the first time. Maybe to live truly successfully is not only to relish in the big but also celebrate in the little.

Friday night, we went to see the 1946 film noir, The Blue Dahlia. The  founders of the festival spoke prior to the screening. They emphasized feeling just as proud of the festival now, with sold out crowds, as they did on their very first night, 20 years ago. Those two men were fortunate enough to experience their “I made it” moment every year. As they stood in front of the crowd, you could feel the camaraderie they had established through their mutual love of film. This is the “I made it.” This is success.

And I think that’s what Dylan and Clay have been trying to emphasize to us all along. Although it’s helpful to network up, be introduced to the CC alumni with the professional titles and the prolific careers, it is also helpful to network across. Because although we may reach the big “I made it,” it’s now that we can start perfecting the art that will get us there. And to have this opportunity, this privilege, is “I made it” enough for me.

I’ve been thinking a lot about authenticity recently. In my few times visiting Los Angeles, I’ve always left feeling oddly dissatisfied. As a life-long fan of director’s cuts and round table interviews, I never understood my unfortunate demystification of the town that created them. I often attribute my disinterest to the flashiness of it all, the over-stimulation of the lights, camera, action. It’s the idea that Hollywood is selling me on something I don’t need to be sold on. A good film originates with a good story. If you lose the integrity of your story, you lose the integrity of your film. I think, subconsciously or not, I’ve always wanted to preserve the simplicity of that statement. I believe in the mimesis captured through the cathartic nature of film. And, Hollywood, at least the parts of it I’ve seen in years prior, seemed oddly disconnected from that.

Yet as we’ve visited with various professionals in the film industry, I’ve largely found the opposite to be true. Content creators and contributors are connected, not solely to their audiences but to the integrity of the projects themselves. What I ultimately lacked was this feeling of authenticity. This genuine drive shines so much brighter than the advertised glitz of stars or the packaged glam of film sets. David Litt, a former speechwriter for the Obama administration, stated of his long-term goals, “For me, all of my rituals are about trying to recapture that feeling I had back in 2008, to put you back in that mindset where you’re 21/22 years old and you’re absolutely sure you can change the world, and you’re pretty sure you can do it tomorrow.” When I’m lacking inspiration, I return to this quote. It reminds me that the my passion, no matter its ever-evolving nature, can and will be sustained, as long as I prioritize its conservation. Although I refuse to be naive to the reality of filmmaking, that realistically not all filmmakers are armed with the integrity of the artistic prospective, many do have genuine intent. My question: Is authenticity possible to sustain in an industry stigmatized for its fickleness and glorified for its monetary success?  Yes, as long as there continue to be genuine artists, there will continue to be authentic stories and, thus, authentic films.

Today, for example, we visited screenwriter Tim Sexton, from NBC’s Chicago PD. He spoke about the difficulty of writing as profession, the impossibility of achieving mastery. Although this often demands continuous practice, he also stressed the importance of pausing writing in order to improve writing. It is difficult to capture a feeling, a moment, if it’s never been experienced. He spoke about his own unorthodox introduction to screenwriting, which, in the context of his professional success, made him a better writer. He found a profession of writing through living a writer’s life. The funny thing is that a “writer’s life” is simply life. Ultimately, Tim’s authenticity led him to more authentic writing, more authentic stories, and more authentic content. Although Los Angeles is built on facades, mystics, recreations of life, all supposed inauthenticities, it requires an authentic foundation to achieve resonance. Hollywood is, therefore, authentic despite its inauthenticities. The flashiness of the industry, through the investment in genuine artistry, can be restored to truth for those who seek it.

* I’ve been behind on capturing our trip! Here’s my only picture, a quick trip to Santa Monica my sister and I made last weekend.