We recently connected with Dylan Lam and have shared our conversation below.

Dylan, appreciate you joining us today. How did you learn to do what you do? Knowing what you know now, what could you have done to speed up your learning process? What skills do you think were most essential? What obstacles stood in the way of learning more?

I have YouTube to thank (blame?) for my interest in editing and cinematography. When I was 10, I dove hard into two hobbies: origami and Rubik’s cubes. I was inspired by one YouTube channel and essentially ripped off a few of his tutorial videos to start my own channel, filming awful closeups of my hands folding paper or unboxing a new puzzle cube with my parents’ trusty Flip Video Camera. I didn’t know how to edit back then, so I would simply upload the full, uncut videos and call it a day. Miraculously, my first-ever video somehow garnered over 250,000 views. I guess the rules were different back in 2011.

So, with my interest in filmmaking now established, it was time to acquire the skills. First up: video editing. I left origami and Rubik’s cubes behind for the video game that swept the 2010s: Minecraft. With my friends, I’d screen-record whatever antics we got ourselves up to and figured out how to cut out the boring bits to maximize the laughs (at least, the laughs that we thirteen-year-olds were looking for). I experimented with different editing programs. First was Camtasia, didn’t like it. Moved to Sony Vegas, couldn’t find my way around some odd gamma-shifting export issue. Finally, I landed on the program I now call home: Adobe Premiere Pro. Again, thanks to YouTube, I was able to teach myself how to operate this digital workshop—though, I also have my father to thank for priming me for all things technological. He works as a desktop analyst, so I’ve always been around computers, and I fell in love with tinkering and exploring cyberspace.

Actually, because of that, I had long assumed that I’d major in computer science or some related field in college. When the time to lock in my major crept ever closer, I looked a little harder at my interest in video editing. “Maybe I could turn this into my career instead,” I wondered. During my senior year of high school, I took a TV Production elective and a co-op with the school’s IT Technician, putting both paths to the test. By sheer coincidence, the TV class and the IT office were in the same hallway. I took to both well, but ultimately, TV Production won out. It was just more fun.

My editing skills weren’t too shabby at this point, but what about camera? That starts with my iPhone 6s and a little app called Snapseed. The convenience of the phone camera and the flexibility of Snapseed helped me realize the possibilities in which editing can transform an image, taking a slice of life as it was and infusing it with color and emotion to turn it into a representation of how I wanted to remember a moment. The first moment was during a rehearsal for our high school’s spring musical. I worked on the sound crew, and from the soundboard at the back of the house, the stage and the lights struck me in such a way that I was utterly compelled to take a photo. I searched for an app to toy around with the picture and stumbled on Snapseed. Pretty icon, made by Google, intuitive interface—I was in. The edited photo looked like an album cover to me. I uploaded it to my desolate Instagram. And so it began.

I started to look for frames in daily life. Enter: street photography. I took my mother’s chrome red Nikon DSLR and learned the exposure triangle and rules of composition on the congested sidewalks of New York. This city that I had regularly visited all my life suddenly seemed brand new, rife with opportunity and beauty. I could aim my camera anywhere and capture gold. I turned to a slew of YouTube creators and Instagram photographers to learn how to shape that gold. Naturally, this interest in photography combined with my editing skills to evolve into an interest in cinematography. I didn’t fully dive into that until college.

Sitting restlessly in Basic Cinematography at Drexel University, all I wanted was to blast through to Advanced Camera and get my hands on the multi-thousand-dollar Arri and RED cameras. I reinforced the corners of my exposure triangle knowledge, noting down new info about shutter angle and IRE and color science, shot types and camera movement and wireless equipment. I began studying the masters of composition, both in still and motion pictures: Henri Cartier-Bresson, Fan Ho, Vivian Maier, Hoyte van Hoytema, Claire Mathon, Roger Deakins. It was a whole new world and I adored every 24 frames of it.

In a way, I walked backwards into filmmaking, picking up the skills necessary to make films before truly falling in love with them—embracing the process before the product. Of course, I had my handful of favorites, but it wasn’t until my sophomore year of college, halfway through my Film and Television Production degree and quarantined at home during the pandemic, that I really became addicted to cinema. I believe it was the screenwriting and storytelling classes I took during my freshman year that unlocked it for me. It was like The Matrix; I could see the code of these films now, identify how they scarred my heart or changed my perspective on life. Thanks to Letterboxd, I have a place to record these revelations and analyses of what does and doesn’t work for me. I carry those lessons into my own works.

Had I known that I wanted to work in the film industry when I was 10, I could have been more intentional and efficient with my learning, but only the blessed few know what they want to do with their life at such a young age. Because I took the scenic route, however, I’ve developed eclectic interests, from the aforementioned origami and Rubik’s cubes to custom PCs and fashion. I like being a jack of all trades, and I’m working on being a master of a few. I certainly have the will. Let’s see if I have the endurance.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

Hi, I’m Dylan Lam. I’m an editor, cinematographer, photographer, and occasional writer based in Central New Jersey. I love stories that make me laugh, and I love the ones that make me cry even more. I strive to tell stories like these with my frequent collaborators and business partners Byron Ruf and Jacob Nagle at our production company, Ruf Productions LLC. I’m incredibly proud of the seven short films we’ve made together and I’m beyond excited for the projects we have in the works.

We’re a scrappy team who have big dreams and couches stripped clean of any loose change to fund them. Our crews on these films are immensely talented, and we cannot thank them enough for the time and dedication they put into their work. Hyper-conscious about the high demands and stress of film sets, we always aim to make our environments friendly and inviting. We’re lucky to see many recurring faces among our crews.

Together, we’re telling stories we love. Teenage comedies, heartbreaking dramas, sci-fi thrillers; stories of delight and stories of plight. The world is wretched and wonderful and we’re sending out messages in film-shaped bottles to see if anyone writes back. Art has held my hand through the darkest of moments. My goal is to make something that does the same for someone else.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

The beauty of art, to me, is in how I can connect to certain works so viscerally. To engage with something that someone else has made and see myself in it is such a wonderful feeling. I watch Wong Kar-Wai’s “In the Mood for Love” and it breaks my heart; Wes Anderson’s “The Grand Budapest Hotel” envelops me in nostalgia; Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly’s “Singin’ in the Rain” fills me with unabashed joy. If I can manage to create something that connects with someone else in the way that those works have for me, that would be incredibly rewarding.

I think one of the worst feelings in the world is that of loneliness. Art has the power to reach people far and wide and help them feel less alone. It assures you that others have felt this too, and yet they persist, so perhaps you can too. And if you too are an artist, perhaps it’ll inspire you to make something of your pain. Perhaps that’ll reach someone else, and inspire them. And so the cycle continues, and the world becomes a little less lonely.

Do you have any insights you can share related to maintaining high team morale?

I directed my own senior thesis in college and have been a director of photography for eight short films. I’ve also been the Content Director at a custom PC building company and currently serve as Lead Editor at a creative studio. I’ve learned so much about managing others and maintaining high morale in these experiences, and I still have much to learn.

In an odd twist of fate, I was the director of photography (DP) for a project before I ever worked as a gaffer or camera assistant (AC) due to the pandemic. To this day, I have more experience as a DP than as a gaffer or 1st/2nd AC. I recognize my privilege in jumping the ladder, and I’ve made mistakes because of my inexperience in the lower rungs. The lesson I carry with me from those mistakes is to listen closely to my gaffer and ACs. I work with those whom I know are more talented than me in those positions and defer to them when I don’t have an answer to a question. Being a director isn’t necessarily about having all of the answers, but about surrounding yourself with gifted individuals and creating an environment in which they can thrive. It’s open collaboration, through and through, and because of this, I believe our two most recent projects to be our best yet. Don’t be afraid to be the dumbest person in the room—in fact, strive to be. You’ll be in the perfect position to learn the most.

When you surround yourself with talented people, you can put so much trust in them. You’re working with these fellow creatives for a reason: they’re brilliant at what they do and believe in the vision. I’ve over-extended my directorial control a few times, and the project usually suffered because of it. As director or DP, your mind is in so many places. Your team has the fortune of narrower focus, and as such, can identify problems you might overlook and solve them when you’ve run out of bandwidth. Trusting them often leads to a better outcome than anybody could have imagined on their own.

Another thing I’ve found to be important is listening. Conflicts are inevitable—film sets have a thousand moving parts and wrenches will get caught in the gears. If a dispute arises in your department, listen to both sides. Really listen. See it from both points of view. I believe people rarely act out of true malice (in collaborative environments, anyway), but rather to achieve what they think is true and just. They want to be heard. If you want to solve it amicably, you cannot immediately dismiss someone’s position as wrong, no matter how strongly you believe it to be. It’ll simply embolden them. They need to know that they’re understood before you even attempt to change their mind. Now, you won’t be able to solve every problem cleanly, but hearing people out can help prevent issues from blowing up and out of proportion. Empathy can go a long way.

Recognition is a powerful tool in raising morale. We like to be acknowledged when we do good work. If you see someone go above and beyond, make sure to tell them that you noticed it and thank them for it. The more specific you can be in your message, the better. It communicates that you’re paying attention and that you don’t take their efforts for granted.

I wonder how many times I’ve said “thank you” on set. I try to say it as much as possible. They’re tiny acknowledgments. “You’re not my servant, you’re my crewmate. This is a favor I’m asking of you, not a command I’m demanding of you. I appreciate your help.” They’re like mini-recognitions, or…what’s the opposite of a microaggression? Give me a second…okay, I just Googled it: Harvard Business Review calls them “microvalidations.” I like that. Call it a microvalidation.

And with that, I thank you for reading my story, such as it is. I’m off to live the next chapter.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://iamdylanlam.com
• Instagram: https://instagram.com/dylamlan
• Linkedin: https://linkedin.com/in/dylanlam
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/dylamlan
• Youtube: https://youtube.com/@dylamlan
• Other: letterboxd.com/dylamlan
  tiktok.com/@dylamlan

Image Credits

Noah Philipose, Shauna Hilferty