The Nathan Tiemz

HOW TO DO SOMETHING GREAT.

May 22, 2025

I have experimented with the idea of using my experience with film as a philosophy, practice, and way of life — because ultimately, we are all here to do great thing*z.

I believe that in order to do something great, you have to do something that is great to you. As much as I politically criticize Paul Graham, one of technology's most respected entrepreneurs for his world-renowned startup school YCombinator, the thing I respect about his philosophy of making a great startup came down to one, simple, concept: "make something people want."

In regards to film, I learned how to "make something YOU want."

Notice how Paul never mentions anything about the technology industry in that statement. My previous essay mentioned moving to Hollywood and working there. Is this a contradiction? Perhaps, but also perhaps not: two things can be true at once.

My constant mistake in the thirteen years of my film career was that I was making films for its industry.

Even with RANCOR, albeit its unconventional birth, development, and release, I had still tried to get accepted by its industry. Now, I am officially one of the millions of rejected filmmakers who tried and failed at getting accepted by the film industry.

When I challenged the Atlanta Film Festival about their decision to reject my movie they did provide a response that seemed diplomatic, something I even wanted to believe especially because I knew them, until the festival dropped its lineup only displaying two feature films out of fourteen made by ATL-ien filmmakers. I was irked even more, taking my "rancor" to social media to vent how much of an insult that was — and that it felt personal. In any grade school setting, a score of two out of fourteen results in a failing grade — approximately 14%.

Of course even I knew that ATLFF has their own agenda — to not recognize that every film festival doesn't would be naive — but I suppose I had wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, ATLFF’s would be about its community. But, just like every other major film festival, it presents a picture of Atlanta film that exists in the context of industry — not community. The difference is that one represents its locality on the world stage and the other represents an industry on said stage. ATLFF chooses the latter (hence the name — Atlanta international Film Festival).

Maybe,
I thought, I'm not good enough.

The nature of an industry's job is to tell you that you aren't good enough. Even when you actually are good enough, the industry will tell you otherwise.

"Look at the numbers!" your employer will tell you. "You're not making ME money."

Could it really be that you aren't good enough? Or that your employer isn’t good enough for you?

Ask anyone who has experienced a layoff before.

Money will always dictate how an industry chooses its people until money can dictate how people choose an industry.

When you work in this way, you have now empowered yourself to choose your own adventure.

The mechanic who knows the value of what they have to offer to those who need their cars fixed will always get work, so long as they can work. That's why you will meet so-called “mechanics" who are there to rip you off, because they can't afford to lose work. Whereas the mechanic who is downright honest with you can.

You of course need to first be honest with yourself — can I offer value of what I know to people? If the answer is yes, then you need to pursue that.

While this theory is incredibly simple, it’s not so simple to arrive at. You have to first experience all kinds of life — and that means experimenting, failing, and of course, reflecting. If you aren't doing any of these things you will find yourself in constant fear for your job, or worse, career (you know the type).

When I met Spike Lee I was nervous. Here, I had thought, I had finally gotten IN the door and was now meeting the filmmaker himself whose work I had seen and read, now expecting him to watch mine. I'd envisioned it all: he’d bring me to Cannes with his new film, and I'd be standing on stage in Director's Fortnight showing the world who I am. Instead, I was met with a sharp "no, not today."

Which I took literally, showing up to his office a couple weeks later only to get rejected again.

Most would say "wow, you just give up that easily?"
And they are partially right — I don't like to beg.
But I also didn't make that film for Spike Lee. Or the industry.
I made that film for me.

Personally I think RANCOR is a great film. Sure, I am biased towards my own work, but I can watch that film anytime and be amazed by it. Yes there are of course wet-behind-the-ears, first-time-filmmaker moments, but when I pull that film up on YouTube to see how it's doing, I view it as an audience member and think "wow! We DID that." Every frame was met with interest, and to be daring enough to get sexual with it, well that revealed me further.

Maybe, I think,
I am good enough.

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*P.S. I lost my s's to z'z a long tiem ago. it'z my style of writing, instead of alwayz uzing commonspeak.