We were lucky to catch up with Harrison Allen recently and have shared our conversation below.

Harrison, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. We’d love to hear about the things you feel your parents did right and how those things have impacted your career and life.

I truly couldn’t ask for better parents, especially as someone who entered an artistic field. My family lived in an old farmhouse on a hill in a small, rural town at the heart of central Vermont which was a fantastic place for me and my five siblings to grow up. There was plenty of space and nature and my siblings and I would spend most of our free time after school outside until the sun went down, relying on our imaginations and the woods that bordered our house to entertain ourselves. We invented games and myths that we would develop over the course of years. These made-up worlds in our backyard seemed to act as a replacement for “screen time” entertainment, which my parents limited for us kids. For the most part, we didn’t have cable and would watch the same movies on VHS or DVD until we could recite them word-for-word (which we would do during long car rides or at family gatherings). Additionally, my parents instilled a love of reading in us and my siblings and I would plan “readathons” on our weekends. I believe their focus on making sure we, as children, flexed our imagination and had a desire to learn was instrumental in setting us up to succeed.

However, the quaint town we had made home had its own limitations. The quality of the public education system was subpar to say the least, leading to my parents to homeschool all six of us by the time I was a middle schooler. This unconventional system allowed me to focus more heavily on the subjects I was interested in, which I spent a majority of my schooldays writing scripts and watching ever film I could get my hands on. It was a freedom very few teens have the opprotunity to experience.

I remember when I told my parents that I wanted to take film seriously as a career and that I would be wanting to apply to film schools, they told me, “We don’t know anything about film but we will help you as much as we possibly can”. That seemed to be my parents’ mantra whenever my siblings or I wanted to try something new; just because they didn’t understand or enjoy something didn’t mean they would deprive their children of the opportunity to control their own lives. After getting to NYU, I realized how rare of a sentiment this was with many classmates telling me that faced opposite reactions to pursuing this field. This made me feel even more grateful for my parents. They’ve always been in my corner, providing endless love and support and that’s most any child with big dreams can hope for .

Harrison, 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?

My name is Harrison Allen, I’m a NYC based film producer and development executive as well as an educator. After getting into film in high school, I was fortunate enough to be accepted into NYU off the waitlist (quite literally the final spot available that year). During my time there, I fell deep in love with producing and was able to get my first feature financed and filmed before I finished my coursework. That movie was The Last Thing Mary Saw, a period piece thriller, which was picked up by Shudder and released in early 2022. Out of college, I worked briefly for Bleecker Street Media as a delivery and post coordinator before leaving to start up a commercial and music video production company with a few classmates from school in the middle of the COVID pandemic. Starting from zero, we grew the company into a reputable production house that specialized in exciting young talents and a uniquely New York aesthetic. About a year later, Intrinsic Value Films, a production company who had helped put together The Last Thing Mary Saw asked if I would join them as Head of Development. The principals at that company, Isen Robbins and Aimee Schoof, had been long-time mentors of mine and I was more than excited to take my creative development skills to the next level. While I was there, I began looking for opportunities in academia, something I’ve always wanted to pursue,.and started teaching as an adjunct at the New York Film Academy (NYFA). After leaving Intrinsic after just under two years, I was able to produce my second feature, Isle Child, which is currently in post-production and began working closely with Brian Testuro Ivie, having since become a producer at his production outfit Kebrado.

We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.

Committing to being an artist means being comfortable with repeatedly getting the door slammed in your face. The ratio of successes to failures can be insanely depressing and some days I struggle with convincing myself that I’m capable of creating something worthwhile. I remember one of my brothers had a “failure-board” in college where he would pin rejection letters, bombed tests, and any other print-outs of his supposed failures. He did this not to remind himself of everything he wasn’t able to accomplish, but to be proud of what he had accomplished in spite of those failures. I thought it was this was perfectly applicable to my career as an artist. Sometimes it can feel that, at every turn, there’s a new problem to face that I barely survive. With both features I’ve produced, I felt like I had to drag my body across the finish line. But, like my brother’s board taught me, in spite of that, I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished; producing two features and becoming an adjunct professor by the age of 25, seeing a movie I’ve made in an IMAX theater with 500 people, producing music videos with artists I admire, getting to develop scripts with directors whose films I grew up watching… the list goes on. Getting up after getting knocked down will always be the mark of a successful artist and it’s something I have to constantly remind myself, especially when I find myself on the ground.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?

When I was starting out in film, my parents asked me if I wanted to think of a backup plan, just in case the whole artist idea didn’t work out. It was a rational request and I started trying to figure out what that backup would be. If not film, what else? Unfortunately, absolutely nothing else could come close to piquing my interest. There was nothing else in this world that drew my attention the way movies did; no subject or industry that I could envision myself in. It’s daunting, and almost ridiculous, to knowingly dive head-first into a life as an artist. It’s taken some time to come to terms with the fact that, having chosen this risky, ambitious path, means there may be many years of struggling, economic hardship, and less stability all in the name of creating something many non-creatives may see as a hobby and not a legitimate career. However, I believe that knowing I don’t have a backup plan, knowing that I’m giving this everything I’ve got is what pushes me to work as hard as I can to make sure this works.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @producerharry
• Linkedin: www.linkedin.com/in/harrison-allen-43226b169
• Letterboxd: @vtiscold