I Don't Need You to Perform for Me

One of the quickest ways to change the way people behave is to point a camera at them.

Suddenly they are wondering what to do with their hands. They are looking at me to see whether they are doing something right. They become aware of how they are standing, how they are smiling and where they should look.

That is completely normal.

Most people don't spend their lives being filmed, and I don't expect them to know how to act around me.

My job is not to walk into a wedding and judge whether people are behaving the way I think they should.

My job is to figure out who they are and help them become comfortable enough that I can actually see it.

That takes different things with different people.

Sometimes I talk. Sometimes I joke around. Sometimes I give direction.

Sometimes the best thing I can do is shut up and give everyone a little space.

There isn't one personality that works with every room.

I Pay Attention to What People Need

Some couples are comfortable almost immediately. Others become very aware of the camera.

Some people want direction. Some hate being directed.

Some rooms are loud and funny from the moment I walk in. Others are quiet.

Neither one is better.

I'm not there to turn a quiet group into a loud one or make somebody more emotional because I think that would look good in a film.

I'm trying to understand what is already there.

That is also why I don't think being unobtrusive means standing in a corner all day and never talking to anyone.

Sometimes being unobtrusive means becoming part of the room enough that people stop worrying about you.

If everyone is joking around, I may joke with them. If somebody seems nervous, I may talk to them for a while before I ever put a camera close to them.

If the room needs space, I give it space.

I adapt.

Most People Need a Little Help

Portraits are probably the easiest place to see this.

Most couples aren't professional models.

They shouldn't have to be.

But once they know a camera is pointed at them, they often start looking toward me after every little thing they do.

Was that right? Should we stand here? Where do I look? What do I do now?

So I'll help.

I'll give them somewhere to start. Maybe I'll get them walking. Maybe I'll give them something to do. Maybe I'll say something just to break the tension.

The direction is useful.

But the direction isn't really what I'm after.

Eventually I want them to stop checking with me.

I want them interacting with each other again.

That is usually when something real starts to happen.

I may give people a starting point. But I don't want them performing for me.

There is a difference between helping someone feel comfortable and trying to manufacture a moment.

I'm interested in the first one.

I'm Not Looking for a Particular Version of You

I think people can sometimes worry about how they are going to be perceived on a wedding day.

There are cameras around. Family is around. Different generations are together.

Everybody brings their own personality, humor, relationships and way of communicating into the room.

I don't need any of that to fit my idea of what a wedding is supposed to look like.

I'm not looking for everyone to be sentimental. I'm not looking for everyone to be serious. I'm not looking for people to act more romantic because there happens to be a camera nearby.

If you're funny, be funny.

If your friends give you a hard time, let them.

If your family is loud, they can be loud.

If somebody is quiet and reserved, that belongs too.

Those differences are part of what makes the film yours.

And I would much rather understand them than try to smooth them all into the same kind of wedding film.

Sometimes I Step In

There are moments when I need to become involved.

A couple may need direction. A room may need a little energy. Someone may need reassurance.

Sometimes I can see that everybody is waiting for somebody else to tell them what happens next, and I can help move things along.

Experience helps me recognize those moments.

I don't think stepping in ruins something authentic.

Sometimes a little help is exactly what allows people to stop thinking about the camera and become themselves again.

The important thing is knowing when enough is enough.

Because once something real begins to happen, I don't want to keep directing it.

I want to get out of the way.

Sometimes I Disappear

There are other moments when my presence isn't helping anything.

Someone is having a quiet conversation. A parent is seeing their son or daughter dressed for the first time. Friends are telling a story. Two people are sitting together without saying much at all.

Those moments don't need instructions.

They need room.

One of the more challenging things to learn as a filmmaker is that doing less can sometimes give you more.

You don't always need another angle. You don't always need to say something. You don't always need to turn a moment into something bigger than it already is.

Sometimes you just need to recognize that something is happening and leave it alone.

Knowing when to step in matters. Knowing when to disappear matters just as much.

I Want You to Forget About Me

Ultimately, I don't want a couple spending their wedding day wondering what I think about them.

I don't want their friends worrying about whether they are acting appropriately for a wedding film.

And I don't want anyone feeling like they have to become a different version of themselves because I'm standing there with a camera.

I want the opposite.

I want them comfortable enough to forget about me for a while.

Because when people stop performing for the camera, I start seeing the things I actually came to film.

The humor. The nerves. The relationships. The weird little interactions. The way people really talk to each other. The things that couldn't have been planned.

That is when the film starts becoming theirs.

And that is always more interesting to me than anything I could have asked them to perform.