The Stoic Filmmaker
Keeping your head up in rough times
I'm not a born optimist. Ask anyone who knows me — I can easily overthink things, get overwhelmed with potential legal ramifications and negative externalities, and get sucked into a doom spiral. Add in a two-year-old child, and the number of things I can find to worry about seems to know no bounds.
But I’m also fairly excitable. I love a good story, geek out on new tech, and will start pacing madly at the first kernel of a startup proposal or creative project. In other words…
I started channeling a lot of those ideas into this Substack, and, in turn, have found myself more excited in recent weeks than the current state of the world would seem to support. To wit, in a handful of conversations with clients and colleagues over the past several weeks, I’ve been met with shock, and some version of “why are you so optimistic” about the our industry?
My general answer is a hedge — optimism is defined as hopeful and confident about the future, and I’m much more rooted in the former than the latter. But I’m also immersing myself in new ideas that put the power back in the hands of filmmakers, and in tools that allow for more self-determination. In other words, I’m aligning myself with the Stoics.
Not the emotionless, detached stereotype that has been co-opted by the manosphere. I'm talking about capital-S Stoicism—the ancient philosophy that author Ryan Holiday has helped resurrect through his books and podcast The Daily Stoic. At its core, Stoicism offers a framework for navigating a chaotic world by focusing intensely on what we can control, letting go of what we can't, and being the best version of ourself within those parameters.
Sound familiar? It should. Filmmaking is essentially an exercise in controlling the controllable while accepting that most variables—financing, distribution, audience reception—remain stubbornly beyond our reach. And in 2025, that challenge is more important than ever. Streaming platforms acquire fewer and fewer projects at smaller budgets every year. Traditional distribution pathways are narrowing, and film festivals yield few, if any, sales. Great films struggle to find audiences, while talented filmmakers, producers, DPs, editors and crew remain severely underemployed and underpaid. These are unavoidable facts that could drive any film or tv professional to depression — and that’s all before we get into the existential threat that is AI.
But here's where Stoicism becomes invaluable: it teaches us that fixating on these external conditions drains the energy we need to identify and pursue the opportunities still available to us.
Conversations from the Trenches
Last week, I had a handful of conversations that crystallized why this philosophy matters now more than ever.
The first was with an incredibly talented producer I've collaborated with on two documentaries. She just wrapped her first narrative feature, and is near full burnout finishing the film, while trying to stay afloat in a BLEAK job market. Recently, she sought a light at the end of the tunnel by diving into a new space: distribution. Instead of joining her anxiety spiral, I found myself encouraging this exploration, sharing direct-to-audience tools that weren't on her radar. Her email the next day read: "I'm so inspired by all of these discoveries and I'm looking forward to learning more." She hadn't found the answer, nor had I offered a magic potion, but she'd found a path to explore—something within her control.
That afternoon I spoke with a narrative director about to wrap his debut feature. Despite involvement with prestigious filmmaking labs, he was seriously depressed about the distribution landscape ahead. The film he'd poured years into might never find its audience. When I suggested ways to generate interest using just his trailer (which is legitimately impressive), something shifted. He mentioned he'd been developing ideas for a graphic novel and other ancillary products tied to the film—creative extensions he'd back-burnered while focusing on traditional distribution anxieties. There are still hurdles, but suddenly we were discussing possibilities rather than dead ends.
The third filmmaker, a documentary director trying to finish a long-gestating project, was at the finish line but out of resources. When we had lunch on Monday, I suggested reaching out to organizations aligned with the doc's purpose—not for equity or grant funding, but to screen a 20-minute section with a discussion (including a speaking fee)—he immediately identified five organizations in his network that might be interested. These weren't new connections; they were existing relationships he hadn't considered leveraging in this way.
The Stoic Filmmaker's Approach
The title of The Daily Stoic podcast yesterday morning was “How Ryan Holiday is Preparing for the Next Four Years” (you can read it here, I highly recommend). Without getting too political, the four years ahead have been a pretty quick doom spiral trigger for me as well! His approach focused exclusively on the things within his control: his attitude, his emotions, his wants, his desires, his focus. And what's striking about the conversations I had in the last week isn't that I offered some revolutionary solutions. I didn't. It is what changed during the course of the phone calls when the perspective shifted from what's broken to what's possible. This is Stoicism in action.
Focus relentlessly on what you can control
Your craft. Your work ethic. Your adaptability. Your network. Your creativity in finding paths to your audience. These remain entirely within your power regardless of industry conditions.
Accept what you can't control
Industry trends. Market whims. Traditional gatekeepers. Streaming algorithms. Accepting these realities isn't defeatism—it's liberation. Energy spent raging against immovable objects is energy unavailable for moving the movable ones.
Find the opportunity in every obstacle
The producer discovering new distribution channels. The director expanding his story world beyond film. The documentarian leveraging his expertise for speaking engagements. Each found opportunity precisely where they perceived only obstacles.
Remember your duty
Stoics hold four virtues as sacrosanct: wisdom, justice, courage, and temperance. As filmmakers, our duty isn't just to make films—it's to connect stories with the people who need them. Sometimes that means reimagining how that connection happens.
Practice creative resilience
This isn't about "pivoting" away from your purpose. It's about finding new expressions of that purpose when traditional pathways narrow.
The Choice Before Us
I'm not suggesting blind positivity. The challenges are real. But pessimism is a luxury film industry professionals can't afford right now. It's not just unproductive—it's counterproductive, blocking our ability to see possibilities that exist alongside the problems.
I am in the midst of an 8-year production and distribution disaster. A documentary project that I created with my producing parter, which we shot on two continents and was acquired by a major studio, but is now sitting on a shelf that that the studio can take it as a tax write-off. The story is amazing, and the series may never see the light of day. After years of frustration, I finally broke down what I could control: the film itself, my network, my marketing skills. Who knows what will happen to that project (aside from at least one future post here, I’m sure), but I am glad I decided to take its lessons and apply its lessons so that I can advise other filmmakers more effectively.
As filmmakers in 2025, we face a choice that's less about the industry and more about ourselves. We can fixate on what's broken, or we can focus on building within the reality that exists.
The Stoic filmmaker doesn't deny the challenges. They simply refuse to be defined by them. Like the ancient Stoics who found tranquility amidst war, plague, and exile, we can find purpose and possibility in our current landscape—not despite the obstacles, but because of how they force us to grow beyond what we thought possible.
That's not just optimism. It's our duty.