We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Dr. Christina Hodel a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Dr. Christina, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today What do you think matters most in terms of achieving success?
Success, to me, is a combination of commitment, resilience, vision, and kindness. More than having a dream, success comes with grit and determination. While many say you need a passion for success, I agree, but passion only sparks flames; it’s a commitment that keeps it burning. Whether it was while finishing my Ph.D., directing a feature-length documentary, or earning my black belt in karate, there were days I wanted to give up. But I didn’t, because I know that progress isn’t about grand gestures—it’s about facing yourself with strict eyes and consistently putting one foot in front of the other.
Hollywood is high school amplified. And what does one need to do to survive those four years of mean girls and brutal boys? Resilience. I’ve learned not to take rejection personally, especially in show business, where the atmosphere is rife with big egos and criticism. Instead, I see setbacks as opportunities to adjust and try again, but in a more innovative way. If something doesn’t work, I pivot. As the saying goes, “Fall seven times, stand up eight.” Maybe I’m pitching a movie idea in a ten-second elevator conversation or chasing a goal that feels farther away than the moon, but either way, I always hold tight to my goals. The odds don’t scare me because, in my heart, I know what I’m meant to do.
Another lesson I’ve learned is that one must create one’s opportunities. I never wait for someone to give me the green light to pursue my vision—I go out and make it happen. Whether directing on a movie set, professing in academia, or kick’n-it in the karate dojo, I’ve rolled with the punches and stayed flexible no matter what gets thrown my way. That adaptability and a steadfast belief in my goals have allowed me to turn obstacles into stepping stones. Keep moving forward; the right doors will open at the right time for you.
Lastly, while the golden rule may sound cliché, let me tell you that kindness and professionalism can take you far. In a world where it seems like kindness comes at a premium, treating others with respect creates lasting relationships that serve as keys to unlocking doors that might otherwise remain closed. I’ve also learned not to waste time with people who don’t see my value. If they don’t get it, they’re not my people—and that’s okay. Life is too short to wait for validation in the wrong places. Success has been about believing in my worth, remaining prepared, and building genuine connections with others while always being true to myself.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
When people find out I’m a filmmaker, they first ask, “What kind of films do you make?” My answer is simple: “Anything that’s a good story.” Perhaps the plainness of the answer is what makes these inquirers scoff. However, I stand by my answer because I know stories are the heart of our cultural identity. Movies are mirrors, showing us who we are and can become. More than just entertainment, films are tools for reflection and may serve as agents of social change. We consume media multiple times daily, so it’s become a part of humanity and, thus, deserves examination.
One of my most meaningful projects is Freedom Love Gold, an award-winning documentary about a family of Holocaust survivors. The film is about love, hope, and resilience in the face of unimaginable adversity. The movie is more than just a recounting of one family’s history; it invites audiences to think deeply about their capacity for strength and empathy. A rewarding experience, I lavish in going to film festivals around the globe and seeing how the art I made inspires others to appreciate the power of familial ties and the importance of hope, even in the darkest times.
My latest film, American Foulbrood, takes on a completely different tone but is nonetheless impactful. Upon a cursory viewing, this fictional film appears to be a thriller about a serial killer, but dig deeper and what will emerge is powerful social commentary probing our inequitable healthcare system, the mental health crisis in the US and beyond, and the challenges faced by those with disabilities. I work diligently to make films that spark conversations and leave audiences pondering the film’s themes long after they’ve left the theater or turned off their TV. My work often highlights diverse casts and strong female characters because representation matters. Audiences want –and need—to see themselves reflected on screen, and this is significant because it’s also how audiences gain a deeper understanding of experiences apart from their own.
Sometimes I’m in the classroom as a tenured associate professor at Bridgewater State University, teaching filmmaking and researching media and visual communication when I’m not on a movie set directing. Helping students develop their skills in visual communication is vital in a day and time where images are more powerful and prevalent than ever. We live in a world saturated with media, and the ability to communicate through visuals is essential for filmmakers and anyone ready to explore their personal or professional lives.
Beyond teaching, I publicly present and publish research on media and gender representation. My most recent book, Disney’s Extraordinary Girls: Gender in 2000s Tween Television (Lexington books, 2004) dives into how gender roles are constructed in children’s programming. This research is crucial because the media we consume in childhood shapes our understanding of identity, gender, and societal expectations as we grow into adults. By analyzing these televisual portrayals, I aim to contribute to a broader conversation about how we can be more media literate and create a media landscape that empowers—rather than limits—the next generation.
Whether making films, teaching students, or contributing to media scholarship, my mission is to use storytelling to inspire thought, promote compassion, and initiate change. I wish someone would ask me, “What fuels your passion for storytelling?” My answer would still be simple—although profound: “Stories are like bridges that connect us, help us navigate the world, and remind us just how much we’re alike than we are different.”
Do you think there is something that non-creatives might struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can shed some light?
Non-creatives often have a romanticized idea of what it means to work in the entertainment industry or as scholars in film studies. If I had even a nickel for each time someone has said to me, “Oh, that sounds fun!” when I tell them what I do, I’d be able to fund my next blockbuster. Yes, filmmaking is exhilarating and magical—it is storytelling brought to life—but it’s also a lot of work, stress, and responsibility. I’ve made movies in record heat waves, been stung by colonies of bees while trying to get the perfect shot, waded in freezing waters take after take, and scorched off some of my hair with a huge spotlight. Did I mention that 14+ hour days doing manual labor is standard in this crazy business? Most people don’t realize how much thriving—or even surviving— in this field involves critical thinking, leadership, physical and mental labor, or how demanding and competitive both the creative and academic paths can be. And don’t even get me started when I tell people I’m also a professor, and they think I have summers off. Let’s not even go there. *I laugh bitterly*
Something that surprises people is that filmmaking and studying film can be approached scientifically and mathematically. I took the academic route, earning a bachelor’s in Film and Electronic Arts, a master’s in Individualized Study (dance/film), and a Ph.D. in Film Studies. That journey taught me to think systematically about creativity and that W=VxA is a mathematical formula needed to figure out how to not blow up your house by plugging in too much film equipment into one electrical socket. While some people believe you can’t “learn” talent or don’t need a degree to be a filmmaker, or even that college doesn’t teach you anything—let alone what it’s REALLY like on set—I found that education was the be for me. It gave me access to tools, experiences, and networks I wouldn’t have encountered otherwise. My classmates became collaborators, my professors became mentors, and the academic environment provided a structured way to develop my craft. Even today, the support system I built in school and the skills I was taught is a big part of how I navigate this industry, and I wouldn’t have learned them so fast and in such a supportive environment if I skipped out on academia.
Earning a Ph.D. in Film Studies is not the clove-smoking black-beret-wearing experience filled with late-night debates about Citizen Kane as you think it might be. It was incredibly challenging, perhaps the most difficult task I’ve ever had to complete in my life! At least I’ve gotten some validation about that from some non-artsy types. In fact, at one conference I attended, I met two professors from the hard sciences—fields like rocket science—who told me they’d initially started in film studies but switched because it was too difficult. That surprised me. I’d always thought of rocket science as the ultimate intellectual challenge. Still, they explained that while complex science often follows linear problem-solving methods, there’s always a calculator somewhere if you need one.
On the other hand, they said film studies tackle abstract, qualitative problems, which not everyone can do. You’re analyzing visuals and narratives, synthesizing mountains of very dense theoretical readings, and substantiating arguments with evidence beyond opinion. It’s a field that requires critical thinking to the exponent of 1000, creativity beyond what we think is humanly possible, and adaptability in equal measure.
And then there’s filmmaking itself. As a filmmaker, you can’t just have a vision—you’ve got to bring that vision to life with exceptional organizational skills, event management know-how, extraordinary leadership, expert communication abilities, and unparalleled collaboration aptitudes. You’ve got to be both an imaginative realizer and a superb logistics expert by juggling timelines, budgets, people, and emotions. It’s an intense process, no matter how long you’ve been doing it, and the learning curve never ends.
What I like about filmmaking and teaching filmmaking is that it blends art, intellect, and discipline. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. The stories we tell and the insights we share through film and research have the power to motivate, inform, and create a sense of community. That makes all the challenging work—whether in a classroom or on a soundstage—meaningful.
We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?
A lesson I had to unlearn was the idea that one must eat, sleep, and breathe Hollywood to make it in the industry. When I was younger, I was told—and believed—that success in the limelight came from an obsessive focus on filmmaking. I would grind 24/7 by networking like crazy, writing, pitching, and working every single day to get my foot in the door. There’s truth to the idea of hard work and persistence, but I eventually realized that this mindset was unsustainable and limiting.
The shift came after I hit a point of burnout. I had been pushing myself so hard to stay “all in” that I wasn’t leaving any room for anything else in my life. I reached clarity when I finally stepped back and began pursuing other interests—jiu-jitsu, dance, carpentry, traveling. These experiences didn’t take away from my work as a filmmaker; they enriched it. Practicing jiu-jitsu and ballet taught me discipline and gave me insight into the physicality and mental toughness needed for storytelling in action films. Traveling exposed me to diverse cultures inspiring characters I never would’ve imagined otherwise. Carpentry gave me hands-on skills and an appreciation for authenticity in set design. All these experiences made my work nuanced and believable.
This lesson clicked for me when I was on a trip abroad, deep in a remote part of a country I’d never seen prior. The exotic locale got me thinking of something other than film for once—I was just absorbing the environment and talking to villagers. A master craftsman who was carving intricate designs into wood struck up a conversation with me. He told me about how he learned the skill from his father, who’d learned it from his father before him, and how the work made him feel connected to his ancestors. This gentleman’s passion and the profundity of his storytelling in that one conversation has since stayed with me. The next thing I know, I’m intertwining elements of that encounter into a script. It was at this moment when I came to the realization that stepping away from filmmaking didn’t mean deserting it—it meant expanding the stories I could tell.
Today, balance is my priority. Friends, family, good food, exercise, and sleep are in tandem with my work. At time when I’m doing something seemingly unrelated to filmmaking is often when I find the inspiration or meet the people who stir my next project. When you’re well-rounded and well-rested, you’re not only a stronger storyteller, but more receptive to the opportunities that seem to manifest when you least expect them. Creativeness flourishes in a balanced life, and that’s a lesson I’m glad to have learned.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.christinahodel.com
- Instagram: @grrrlonfilm
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GrrrlOnFilm/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/christinahodel/
- Twitter: @grrrlonfilm
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/user/ChristinasMovies/featured
- Other: www.AmericanFoulbrood.com
www.FreedomLoveGoldMovie.com
Image Credits
Rachel Perry
Jeremiah Ridgeway
Todd Tyler
Steven Jetter
Robert Rhyu
Alli Schmaling
Christina Hodel