We recently connected with Jesse Randall and have shared our conversation below.
Jesse, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today What’s been the most meaningful project you’ve worked on?
My current project, Spare Change, is about the homelessness crisis in Los Angeles. This project was a whole new experience for me. It was my first real experience with development. With my previous projects, I raised the money through grants and private investors but didn’t really have to answer to anyone. I made the films however I wanted to after workshopping the script and getting feedback. Spare Change was part of a new program at Los Angeles City College that funds work by current students and alumni. Having graduated from LACC, I was approached by the producers of the program to develop a project that was within the budget they had available. I figured since this was going to be a project that represented the university, it was a chance to explore a tone that was different from my previous work. I enjoy dark comedy and social satire with a little bit of drama in the mix. I wanted to apply that flavor to Spare Change, but lean a little more into a dramatic tone. The issue with making “entertainment” out of social causes, is that it’s hard to get audiences to watch something that feels like a chore. Also, people are bombarded with the grim reality of the homelessness crisis every day. I didn’t want to make anything that felt like trauma porn or too maudlin. It was also important to not romanticize the homeless crisis as well. Juggling all those concerns while trying to stay true to my voice as an artist was one of the biggest artistic challenges I’ve encountered as a filmmaker to date. I had to learn to creatively negotiate with the producers in development as well. I’m fortunate that I had producers who were supportive of my vision and honored my voice as an artist. Still, filmmaking is a group project, and the more money involved results in more voices being heard. Sometimes people suggested ideas that were really great and absolutely made the film better, but they also suggested things that just weren’t the film I was trying to make. Navigating that tightrope while still maintaining a harmonious relationship with your creative partners takes a lot of work, even when you get along. There are also a lot of short films about the homelessness crisis. It’s a go-to subject for film festival material. I had to really consider what I’m contributing to the conversation as an artist that hasn’t been said before. I want to adapt Spare Change into a television series, but it will be a little different in tone with a slightly different story angle. Ultimately, I want Spare Change to humanize the unhoused and advocate for housing as a human right. Art can be a powerful tool to open minds, but it can also be really pretentious when the creatives involved convince themselves they’re changing the world. Everything about Spare Change, from pulling off the subject matter to producing a project that felt a little out of my element, was a great experience in leveling up as a filmmaker. It was the biggest crew I’ve ever worked with, and I had more support on this project than anything I’ve ever made. In addition to expanding my advocacy for resolving the housing crisis, Spare Change also was great preparation for working with a large crew when I finally get my first feature made!
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
I’m Jesse Randall, a queer filmmaker, writer, and producer. My work solely focuses on LGBTQIA+ stories. My content has over twenty-five distribution deals and is currently streaming on Plex TV, Revry TV, Mometu, and more! My digital series, The Safety Plan, is my proudest achievement so far. I poured my heart and soul into this project. Though it was ultimately fictional, there were elements inspired by my own life that were terrifying to include in my work. It’s pretty emotionally raw and occasionally a little ugly, but I simply shared my experience as a queer-identifying person. It was a little controversial upon its release, but now it has over a dozen distribution deals. I’m proud that I made something that felt authentic to my journey and that it found an audience. I’m also very proud of my latest film, Spare Change, about the homelessness crisis in Los Angeles. Spare Change is the biggest production I’ve worked on to date and a major step up for me as a filmmaker. I’m using Spare Change as a proof-of-concept for a television series I want to develop about the homelessness crisis. Spare Change made its world premiere at Outfest Fusion in March 2023 and will screen at additional film festivals later this year. My next priority is developing my first feature film. I want to create content for the LGBTQIA+ community that is both entertaining and challenging. I also want to help other LGBTQIA+ creators develop their work as well. I think what sets my work apart from other films in queer media is that I want to tell stories about the complexities of being queer in a way that isn’t trauma porn instead or presenting a fantasy about the way I wish the world could be. There’s a lot of identity politics around getting LGBTQIA+ content made. Some of the only queer films that are greenlit are the Brokeback Mountain-esque films about queer trauma or Love, Simon. Both types of films are great, but those aren’t the types of stories I want to tell. With my work, I want to tell stories about lessons I wish I’d learned when I was younger, and truths I needed to hear. A lot of queer media presents a narrative that once you come out, the rest of your life falls into place and you live happily ever after. That hasn’t quite been my experience. There are a lot of other areas of life as a queer person I wasn’t prepared for, and those are the stories I’m interested in telling. Sunshine and rainbows are beautiful, but if you want the rainbow you’ve got to put up with the storm, and my stories are about the storm. I hope my work encourages people to face themselves, no matter what they identify as, and how ultimately rewarding it can be despite being an occasionally terrifying emotional rollercoaster.
How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?
COMPENSATE ARTISTS FAIRLY! The ongoing writer’s strike is a cummilation of not compensating artists fairly. It’s so ridiculous that the CEOs of these giant corporations are bragging about profit earnings are higher than ever and refuse to come to a fair agreement with the WGA. The WGA isn’t even asking for that much, percentage-wise. Corporate greed and capitalism will destroy the world. It’s the root of all society’s problems: valuing profits over people. Movie studios have historically tried to find ways to eliminate writers from the equation since the inception of Hollywood, and it hasn’t worked yet. In addition to the fact that AI doesn’t have the full capacity of human emotion, and never will, I don’t want to watch stories told by a machine. Since the beginning of time, storytelling has been a way for people to connect. It’s the closest thing to time travel we’ll ever have. Eliminating the human component from storytelling so soulless corporate zombies can buy yachts is despicable. I know a lot of people who aren’t familiar with how the film industry works and assume writers are wanting million-dollar bonuses, but that’s not what this fight is about. It’s about being fairly compensated for our work. Everyone deserves a livable wage, but especially when you’ve invested so much time honing your craft, and creating the blueprint for a multimillion-dollar product. The fight for fair wages expands far beyond the film industry. The cost of housing is higher than ever, and wages are lower than ever. We won’t survive living like this.
In addition to paying artists (and everyone) a livable wage, society can also support artists by investing their time and dollars in independent art as well. Everyone has to start somewhere. Just because a band is playing their first show at a local bar doesn’t mean they won’t be playing stadiums and dominating their airwaves eventually. It’s hard creating art when you don’t have millionaire investors backing you, but people find a way. Go to a local film festival, Watch independent movies in theaters. Watch independent films on streaming platforms. There’s a grave misconception that everyone who works in the film industry is rich. This couldn’t be further from the truth, especially in the age of streaming. I have over twenty-five distribution deals, but I couldn’t financially survive off the little revenue I pull in from my work. Unless I sell my concepts to be developed by a major studio or production company, I’ll never recouup the budget for my produced films. I raised most of the money for my films through grants and scholarships, but my productions always went over budget. I had to invest my own money into some of my productions while I was working in bars and low-wage retail jobs. Buy local art. Support local artists. That doesn’t mean you can’t go to the movies to watch a big-budget studio film, but find a balance between doing both.
For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?
I think the most rewarding part of being an artist or a creative is you get to connect to people through your work in ways you don’t frequently get to on a regular basis. It’s so hard to dig through surface-level conversations in everyday life to begin with because we’re all moving so fast, trying to get to our next destination. We have more platforms to socially connect to people than ever before, and yet it feels like there are more barriers between people at times. I love social media, but it’s a double-edged sword. For every revolutionary thing about it, there’s something equally toxic. What’s great about art is that it emotionally charges people. Someone you wouldn’t normally cross paths with in real life could create something that grabs your soul and makes you feel seen and validated. Great art pushes through the surface level and goes straight to the heart. Through my films, I get to express ideas we’re taught to suppress to be “professional” or “civilized” to get through the day and survive society. When I made The Safety Plan, I was terrified about creating something that felt so honest. Though it’s ultimately a fictional story, my frustration that people drifted in and out of my life for various reasons was very real at the time of creating it. Some of it was bad connections, but some of it was part of living a nomadic life. Lots of artists live nomadic lives, and I was comparing myself to people who had different goals than I did. I was frustrated that my life didn’t have the stability theirs did, but they chose lives where stability was a more viable option. Stability is hard to achieve and maintain as an aspiring artist, especially when someone is as poor as I was in those days. I was too in my head about it and took it very personally. Now that I expressed those fears through The Safety Plan, it’s not so prevalent in my life anymore. It’s been exorcized, in some ways. I contextualize the constantly evolving nature of relationships more logically now. I used to feel a lot of shame about it. I’ve met people with similar experiences to mine because of The Safety Plan. I felt like I had a hard time meeting people who felt the same way I did about this issue before. I put something out in the world that is a really bold expression of myself, and I feel like it’s subsequently led me down a path that introduced me to people who felt similarly, and helped me grow. Sometimes it’s easier to express something through art. That’s why it’s so important that we protect and value art and not let greedy corporations take the soul out of storytelling. 
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.jrvisionfilms.com/
- Instagram: @jrvisionfilms
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jesse-randall-b81b7018/