We recently connected with Nick and have shared our conversation below.
Alright, Nick thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Are you happy as a creative professional? Do you sometimes wonder what it would be like to work for someone else?
Even in the most successful times filmmaking is such an unpredictable career from one moment to the next. That can be very destabilizing, and so there is always this voice in the back of my head that says, “what if that was the last film I get to make?” That anxiety can get in the way of happiness. But I don’t think I got into this field for the happiness of it. It’s cut throat, it can take years to get a project off the ground, or you spend years on something that never goes anywhere. We’re told that our dream projects don’t jive with the current market, or that we don’t have the access yet to guarantee certainty around the project so we spend hundreds of unpaid hours trying to secure a story that still may not get made.
It’s not the pursuit of happiness that propels me forward in such an uphill battle, but it is the meaning I get from it. My life is filled with purpose and love when I pursue stories that are meaningful to me. In Victor Frankl’s seminal book “Man’s Search For Meaning” he engaged in a study while in the Nazi death camps about human resilience. Those who were most likely to survive the camps, in his observation as a psychiatrist, were the ones who focused not on the horrors they were living or the hope of being liberated and the happiness that might follow, but on the meaning in their lives. For Frankl his meaning came from his work and the thoughts of his family. From this study Frankl formulated his theory about the art of living.
My takeaway is that if happiness is the focus of my life, it can bring alot of cruel and paralyzing disapointment or even depression. So rather than having the goal of happiness I believe it is instead a byproduct of meaning. And, among other things, filmmaking brings my life meaning.
Nick, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?
I fell in love with film from two key experiences in my life. One was in the mid 80’s in Allentown, PA where I grew up – my father picked me up from little league baseball and told me he had a surprise in the trunk. It was a VCR, and he said, “This is for foreign films only.” The first film we watched was Truffaut’s THE 400 BLOWS, and I remember relating to Antoine Doinel and being mesmerized by the realism and the way it captured childhood and coming of age without any gloss. It was raw and dynamic and it stuck with me. The other formative experience was during my undergraduate studies at the University of Massachusetts. We were watching what was considered the New New wave of French directors and I saw Claire Denis’ work for the first time and was blown away.
I eventually did my graduate studies in film at NYU and found my first real mentor, a fairly severe Russian directing teacher names Boris Frumin. I remember feeling seen in his class and also challenged to push myself, and to trust the way I saw and felt the world. I learned the difference between cliches, which come from a desire to be understood easily and quickly, and embracing my own voice, which may not always be understood, but that I could learn to express in original ways that would eventual gain affirmation in my career. That process took a while.
After many years working in the field as an editor in New York, making a living, learning the craft, cutting wedding videos, branded content, eventually news pieces, Frontlines, Vice, National Geographic, I finally mustered the courage to begin directing again. I did some television, co-directed a few feature documentaries, and finally had the experience and confidence to make my latest film, TELL THEM YOU LOVE ME. It was a challenging story that carried with it alot of responsibility. I approached the story with sensitivity and balance, without sugar coating the thorny details, and brought the audience to the edge of truth while handing them questions that would linger on after the film was over. This, I discovered is what I can do as a storyteller, and it turned out to be a very successful approach that I will carry into my future work.
We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.
My latest film, TELL THEM YOU LOVE ME, is my best work to date. But it did not get recognized right away. It took me 7 years to finish from the decision to make the film through to the final product. Along the way it was rejected form many festivals, I had my heart broken many times over because I felt so proud of what I had made, I couldn’t understand it. After a year of trying to make a sale my team was almost ready to give up. I kept pushing, and on a whim the sales team decided to show it to a new executive at Netflix, she loved it, and they bought it. When it was released on the platform it immediately went viral. The response was beyond whatever I could have imagined. It went to the top of the Netflix charts and created a storm of interest and attention. The incredible success of the film was exhilarating, and brought me a sense of real accomplishment and pride. But it was the experiences I had getting there- pushing through the rejections, the years of trying to get the film made and finished and into the world, that built the resilience and confidence I carry with me today.
Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.
As a filmmaker I’m always searching for stories that reflect how I see and experience the world. This means that when I embark on a project I’m weaving a part of myself into the work itself. My character, my growth, and my heart are present in the final product. What this means is that the reception and response to my work can at times feel very personal. But I’ve learned that once a film is finished it’s more like a baby entering the world. Yes a part of me is there but it’s now its own living, independent thing. I do the best I can, as a parent would, to help it have success, but the outcome will at some point be out of my control. While that process of separation is essential, it can at times feel as painful as watching your child get dumped by his first girlfriend, or lose a soccer match because of a failed penalty kick.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://nickaugustperna.com
- Instagram: nickaugustperna
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- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/nickaugustperna/
- Twitter: @NickAugustPerna
