We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Nick DeRuve. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Nick below.

Nick, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Can you recount a story of an unexpected problem you’ve faced along the way?

I think my entire career is a collection of unexpected problems and issues. That’s true for the macro and micro parts of my experience. Each film has its own surprises, each job has its own limitations, nothing ever goes perfectly fine, and that’s life. I spend a lot of my time coming up with solutions to problems that don’t exist. I’m constantly thinking about what could go wrong, and how to protect the film from disaster. That’s a big part of filmmaking in general is to think of any and all issues that can arise and have answers to them. That’s what preproduction is for in a sense, you think of a thousand solutions to problems, and then something you just can’t predict happens and somewhere in your rolodex of solutions you find a way through it.

A great example of this is the very first day of production on my film The Runaway. This was a hundred page period western that was scheduled to shoot in twelve days. Every minute of every day is imperative. The very first shot of production was schedule as a sunrise silhouette shot with a bunch of extras marching up a hill. I planned the aesthetic and look of this shot for months, tracking the suns path, marking exactly where the camera needed to be at what time. So we get there on day one, the extras are getting into costume, and the crew is setting up. I got a lot of love for the people that worked on The Runaway, everyone was pretty green at the time, but they really worked hard. Regardless, the dolly track wasn’t getting set on time, the sun was moving fast, and I looked around and knew that the shot I had calculated for was at this point dead. But, I really wanted it, so I called for everyone’s attention and I cut that scene from the schedule and told the crew to pack up and get moving down hill for the rest of our shooting day. One of the producers on the film was irate that I made this decision. He couldn’t believe it, “Before we even got one shot off you’re punting scenes!” But I had prepped this film for almost a year, the team and I worked really hard on this and I didn’t want to start making sacrifices on the first shot of production. We ended up having a great rest of day one, and that night the first and I were able to rework the schedule and fit that scene in on another day. Which in my opinion, isn’t out of the ordinary. You should be 100% ready and willing to make adjustments to your schedule that make sense. So I looked at the problems that came up in getting us ready on day one. First, the extras had to march up hill, and that hill was pretty rocky and overgrown with reeds and shrubs. A bunch of the actors on the film carved out paths for us and lined them with sticks so even in the dark they were more visible and the terrain was raked clear. Second, the dolly track needed a preset flat and stable ground to build on. I started grabbing large rocks, boulders sort of, and laying a foundation for where on this hill I was going to build flat ground. Once the paths were done, all the hands I had were then carrying huge rocks and laying this floor with me. We had gravel that we then shoveled and filled in over the rock foundation. After about three hours or so we had built a beautifully level ground that we preset the track and dolly on. The next morning about an hour before sunrise, the crew showed up to find the dolly ready to go. The extras returned and saw the paths carved for them and it made their march easy. That shot is still one of my favorites in the film, even if its only on screen for a few seconds.

You will never think of all the problems, but I really don’t spend my time thinking about problems, even as they occur. I’m constantly thinking of solutions. Even if they aren’t the answers I need, being a solutions oriented person has helped me a great deal in this business. It keeps me from harping on the past, and always has me looking ahead.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

I was always an artist. I was always drawing and painting, and I was part of school plays and chorus in elementary school. These things came really naturally to me, and I would spend a lot of my free time in childhood living in my imagination. I was always creating stories and worlds in my head, I even remember some years where me and some friends had a comic we would hand draw every week. I picked up a video camera in my early teen years and shot pieces of ideas with friends of mine, but I hadn’t really made a film from start to finish. In high school I had an art heavy schedule so I spent my days drawing, painting, sculpting. By the time my senior year came I was out of fine arts classes and I took a filmmaking class instead of ceramics. When I completed my first film, truthfully, I knew what I was going to spend my life doing.

I went to college and I made a ton of films. I had a great group of friends who were passionate, and I’d produce short films regularly. I think at the time I was doing a lot of imitation. I’d see a shot, or interesting blocking and I would try to recreate those moments in my own stories. I learned a lot by just doing it over and over again. As school was coming to an end I started getting on small productions in the grip or electric dept. and that’s how I started making a living. That’s still a very large part of my income. One of the smartest things I did was to learn a trade that would get me on set and in the middle of the action. I would work sets, put some money together, and shoot films. People often tell me I have a great work ethic and great discipline, that may be true, but it honestly comes very easily. My love of filmmaking is so deep that it requires nothing of me to get up and get to work. I imagine most filmmakers feel that way because it’s such a competitive and often merciless industry, if you don’t really love it with all your heart, you probably won’t last in this business.

I moved to Los Angeles about a month before my twenty-fifth birthday. I had a great experience in grad school and this is where I stopped imitating, and started finding my own voice and my own vision. After school I made a film called The Runaway, and this is where I really started to… I don’t know… spread my wings I guess you could say. When I made that film I was going for something pretty specific. I was trying to make an American Fable, like Paul Bunyan, or John Henry. I wanted to make a piece of Americana cinema. I’m not sure people really got that or not, but when I watch the film, I see it. I remember in my own references I was looking at paintings by Norman Rockwell and Winslow Homer. And I see the influence in the composition of the film.

Since The Runaway I have produced a bunch of films, and with each film I am growing more into myself as a filmmaker. I recently just premiered a film at the Orlando Film Festival where we won the prize for Best Short Film. The film is called Fish in a Barrel and it is the most true to my artistic vision, but I’m still learning what that is. Even after all these years, and all the films I’ve made, I don’t think I’ve even scratched the surface of my capabilities, or the capabilities of the artform. Every time I make a film, I know I’m getting closer.

I love to see the evolution in the work I am producing. As my sensibilities take form, the overall production value of my work is elevating. I know that I’m putting the work in to further my education, but you can’t really see the results of that work until you put it in action. I’m really proud of Fish in a Barrel, someone asked me if it was my best film. My opinion on that is always, my next film is my best film. There is no substitute for experience.

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

You know, it’s kind of funny. Because from where I’m sitting, most people on social media are liking and sharing celebrity content, or massive social influencer content. People they don’t know, people who don’t care about them, and that’s what they are promoting on their social media pages. I wonder why it’s so easy to share someone’s post who has millions of followers and tens of thousands of shares, but then the creative you know, who you seemingly support and believe in doesn’t get shares or likes even. So, I notice a lot of that and don’t know what to make of it. Then I also wonder, why does my follower count, or my like count have to matter? What about the quality of my work? What about the years of experience? None of that matters, but your follow and like count really does matter in the entertainment industry in 2023. So it bums me out that I have to feel a type of way when I see people sharing celebrity posts and such, but I’m over here grindin’ my tail off to forge my path in Hollywood, and no ones sharing the work… But that doesn’t bother me as much as what I’m about to say. My concern is that art, craft, form, style… these things don’t matter to people anymore. I feel like when people say “art film” or “arthouse” they’re using it like a bad word. It feels like Hollywood doesn’t think people care about the deeply meaningful exemplary crafted pieces of cinema anymore. They make those decisions based on audience reactions. So maybe audiences just don’t care what type of films or shows they see anymore as long as they get to binge watch content that’s as easily digested as late night Taco Bell. I think people should know that their interactions on social media actually do matter. When you like or share or comment on something, it is actually making a contribution to the advancement of that artist, it’s a form of currency in a sense. If there’s an artist you like, the easiest way to help is to blow up their social media page. Help set the trends you want to see.

What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?

I’m not sure there is any particular goal or mission. It’s just that, I can’t do anything else. I’m a filmmaker, so I make films.

I try not to put too much weight on some of the things people have said to cut me down. I don’t want to give the haters more credit then they deserve, but the truth is, I remember it all. I had a teacher look me in the eyes and tell me I would never amount to anything. I premiered a film I made fifteen years ago, and someone was on my Facebook page telling me how terrible it was and how I should quit and I’d never make it. I remember people making fun of my dreams. Again, I don’t want to give them too much credit, but it’s definitely fuel. I kept receipts on all of ’em.

For every hater I have plenty believers, and they are a huge part of what keeps me going. I don’t need to disprove the haters as badly as I want to prove the believers right. There are so many people who support me and champion my work, and that’s a lot more important.

I know I have great works of cinema in me, with every film I make I am trying to get one step closer to that potential. And with the belief that my next film is my best film, I will hopefully have a long career of discovery and creation.

Contact Info:

• Website: ruvoent.com
• Instagram: @NickDeRuve
• Facebook: @NickDeRuve
• Linkedin: @NickDeRuve
• Twitter: @NickDeRuve
• Youtube: @mrdirector18