This post is part of a series where I answer questions sent to me by fellow filmmakers. Leave your questions in the chat if you have them.
Q:
I’ve had a pretty hard string of disappointments and rejections. I had a few promising interviews and submitted to a few festivals, but all of those only led to rejections, while friends and colleagues were accepted. I can’t lie and say that it all sort of coming one after the other for nearly two months straight now hasn’t weighed on me a bit. It’s felt a little like I can’t get my foot in the door and it’s felt a tiny hopeless, but I’m still writing and have been working on a reel and a website. I’m trying not to be too defeated by it all.
A:
First of all, I’m sorry. Rejection stings. It’s a lingering pain. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on the outside looking in - like no one will ever open the door for you. I’m not going to tell you to just “get over it” or “move on.” This feeling is real, and it deserves to be felt. However, the more you can come to terms with rejection as an unavoidable fact of your creative practice, the easier it becomes to find your way through it, even if it never stops hurting.
At the end of this post, I share some personal rejections that have stung. But first, let’s tease out how to deal with this.
Feel the Pain, But Don’t Stay There
Feel the disappointment. Acknowledge what hurts, but don’t let it consume you. Find ways to channel that energy elsewhere. Seek inspiration in unexpected places—in films, in life, in books, in time with friends, and in your next film. Volunteer your time for others. Be there for someone else who's struggling. Stepping out of your pain to lift someone else up can give you clarity and perspective.
Making Money Is Not Selling Out
There’s no shame in supporting yourself in ways that aren’t directly related to filmmaking. If the work you’re passionate about isn’t paying the bills yet, find a way to keep the lights on, whether through freelancing, teaching, or even taking a job outside the industry. I’ve done it myself.
Sometimes I took on jobs that weren’t creatively fulfilling, but they allowed me to keep going. I have made money in the most random ways, here’s an assortment: working in retail, babysitting, selling t-shirts I made, making films for non-profits, teaching kids how to make films, making low-end commercials, selling stock footage, recording podcast advertisements, photography, speaking and consulting, teaching online workshops, freelance sound and cinematography, freelance editing, and licensing stills and video to educational outlets.
Build Community, Don’t Just Network
It’s tempting to aim high and try to reach out to the “big names” or those who seem more successful than you to ask for help and guidance. But the real power lies in building relationships with your peers—those who are walking the same path, facing the same rejections. When you reach out, don’t ask how they can help you. Ask how you can be there for them. Can you assist them as a crew? Or form a group to give each other feedback and hold each other accountable with deadlines? Collaboration and genuine support create strong community ties. Those connections are more meaningful than a cold call to someone with a blue checkmark.
Hone Your Craft
Accept that your work might not be as strong as you think it is. And that’s okay—it’s a chance to grow. Ask for honest feedback, even when it’s hard to hear. Get specific: What about your audio (production or post) could be enhanced? Could the story have been tighter, or had a bigger payoff? Was the pacing off? Turn that feedback into a learning list—things you can improve on for your next project.
This isn't about beating yourself up; it’s about facing your blind spots head-on so you don’t make the same mistakes again. If you struggle to receive criticism ask for anonymous feedback via a Google form to a group of peers. That way you don’t know who said what and maybe you can distance yourself from those personal comments.
In some funding application rejection emails, you may be offered the chance to do a one-on-one call to get feedback on your proposal. ITVS does this - I have applied several times and haven’t gotten the grant, but I have gotten valuable insight. Sometimes you learn there’s nothing major wrong with your application but instead, they are looking to fund projects at a different stage, or of a certain theme. Sometimes you learn you haven’t articulated the goals of the film very well through writing, and talking it through with the grant administrator helps you clarify your thoughts and intentions. Then you have a little energy boost to update the application and keep your fingers crossed for next time.
Festival programmers will sometimes send generic “sorry we couldn’t take your film” emails but often they will let you in on some insight why - for example the film’s runtime wouldn’t work with the program. You don’t need to ask for more information - don’t burden the folks making these decisions unless they have offered their time to give feedback. But do hold onto those nuggets of learning. For festivals, be sure that you aren’t paying to submit to festivals that don’t accept the level you are at (student, early, mid, advanced, etc), or the genre you’ve created (doc, horror, comedy, animation), or length of your film (short, episodic, feature, etc). Do the research and see what the festival has programmed in the past. Find films like yours in tone, length, topic, and approach, and see what festivals they have screened at. Most importantly, stay open to feedback and keep learning. No matter what stage of your career, there is always room for improvement.
Find the Purpose in the Process
It’s easier to move forward when you can find something meaningful in the work you’ve done, even if it doesn’t lead to the success you imagined. Ask yourself: What did this film teach me? Maybe it’s a new editing technique, or maybe it’s a lesson in patience or collaboration. When you find the takeaways, rejection becomes easier to digest.
This film might not be your big break, but it’s also not a dead end. Reflect on what you learned and write it down. You also need to know when to cut ties to a project that is serving as your emotional buoy. How much longer do you have the heart to advocate for this film to get into a festival or get a grant before you decide to just post the film online and celebrate it being done, or make your next film without any funding, or move on to another idea or project? This is all very complicated, especially if you are advanced in your career and your investors are waiting to be recouped. I could say so much more here, but the point is, don’t hold on too tight to any one idea of how your film or story idea exists in the world. Find the purpose in the process and move toward some form of realistic resolution.
Doubt Is Not Your Enemy
Self-pity is the enemy of creativity, but doubt can be a motivator (for me, at least) if you can learn to accept it without allowing it to paralyze you. It can drive you to learn more and to try again. Doubt can keep you humble, keep you open to feedback, and push you to do better. The worst rejection often plays over and over in your mind—a loop of “what ifs” and “if onlys.”
My tape plays at 1 am when I am trying to sleep. I have to get out of bed and write it down. I try to get the tape out of my head so I don’t get trapped in the loop of regret. If I don’t, that tape will keep me stuck. It will blind me from seeing the new possibilities that come from moving forward. Acknowledge the tape, but don’t let it become the only soundtrack in your mind.
Reality Check: You’re Not That Special
That might sound harsh, but hear me out. Feeling isolated, feeling like you don’t belong, like you’ll never break through—it’s not just you. It’s a normal reality. Someone once told me, "Your path to “yes” will only be found by navigating a series of 'no's." You’ll hear more 'no's than 'yes's in this career, and that doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re still in the game.
Social media often gives us a distorted view of what success looks like. It’s one of the reasons I don’t use social media. Getting sucked into highlight reels of overnight success and comparing myself to others is damaging to my mental health and creativity. It distracts me from my core values and my own path (no shame if you use/love/enjoy social media, it’s just not beneficial for me).
Truth is, there is no such thing as overnight success. The people you follow who are celebrating a win probably didn’t post about the dozens of failures and rejections that preceded that win. But even though you or I aren’t likely to experience overnight success, that doesn’t mean our work isn’t valuable; it means you’re not alone in your struggles. And that can be a source of comfort, not despair. It took me 5-6 years of low-wage and barely getting work to get my first development money to make a film. If it’s been a couple of months of rejections for you, my best advice is to brace yourself because it’s just beginning.
Timing Is Everything, Unfortunately
Depending on what you’re making, when you’re making it plays a huge role. There was a lot of interest in Recovery Boys for a short window - luckily that window we were able to raise money and get Netflix on board. But before that window and after, it was dead silence. Do you know what that window was? The election.
When Donald Trump won in 2016, people “rediscovered” Appalachia. And we had a film about the place (rural America) people wanted to learn about, and also about men who were experiencing something that America was finally ready to face (the opioid epidemic). But guess what? That window closed really, really quickly. And just like that, people no longer cared or wanted to “learn about Appalachia.” That national backlash became part of the film’s rejection story - a film that isn’t even about politics. All of these things were outside my control. All of these things were fleeting. They were timing and public opinions, which can change overnight.
Lessons from Rejection: Personal Stories from Both Sides of the Table
I could write 100 posts about all the rejections I have experienced. I actually think I feel it most deeply immediately. A pit in my stomach. My day derailed. I read the email. Mark it as unread. Close it. Open it. Read it again. Mark as unread. Vent about it to a friend. Feel despair and ask why I even try and make films. And then feel embarrassed by my self-pity. Then I kinda block it out. I’m not suggesting this, as I can’t really tell you if it’s a good way to proceed, but it is how my brain works. So honestly, I have faced HUNDREDS (that’s no exaggeration) of rejections but I think I have blocked them out so I can move forward. You have to be slightly delusional to make documentary films…that’s just a fact. But here are a few rejections that still linger.
My film Recovery Boys (2018) was rejected from every film festival except one. Yes, a film that was commissioned by Netflix could not catch the eye of any festival programmer, except one (thanks Hot Docs!). Fundraising wasn’t any easier. But I knew our story was strong and I was committed to seeing it through. I felt a responsibility to the people who had let me in their lives. And thanks to pitching forums and grants (IFP/Gotham, Points North, Brit Doc, Threshold Foundation, Chicago Media Project) we were able to get some momentum.
My film King Coal didn’t get into the two film festivals I respect more than any big, glossy festival. Both True/False Film Festival and Camden Intl Film Festival turned it down. I was crushed. These were festivals I had personally adored and attended for years and had admired them for supporting creative documentaries that were boundary-breaking. Rejections from larger festivals didn’t sting because they felt less personal. But once again…it’s not always about me or my film. And taking it personally isn’t helpful for my film, me, or my relationships. On the grant front, King Coal was lucky to get 7 grants (yay!) but we applied for 23 grants. That’s 16 rejections. That’s 16 proposals we spent hours crafting. It’s a heavy blow.
I think there is also a perception that if you win or get nominated for a major award (Emmy, Oscar, Peabody, etc) or have had a film acquired by a major distributor (Netflix, HBO, Hulu, Amazon, Apple, Nat Geo, etc) that you are set. That all your projects will be funded from that point forward. That distributors will be knocking at your door. This is unfortunately not the case. Even after having two Netflix Original films in 2017 and 2018, we pitched a doc series soon after only to be rejected by all major distributors. I have more examples of pitches resulting in radio silence than an outright rejection, which might actually be worse. What you/I want to make may not always line up with the priorities of streamers and funders. At the end of the day, I have much to be grateful for but that doesn’t mean that nearly 15 years into doing this I don’t face rejections on a monthly basis. I’m not complaining but here to give a dose of reality: it can be a slog.
I’ve also been on the other side of giving grants and awards. I have served on panels reviewing applicants for the International Documentary Association, Chicken and Egg, United States Artists, Hot Springs Film Fest, Full Frame Film Fest, and it has been helpful to see this process. Everyone in that room may love your film. But maybe it’s too similar to a film that has already been funded - not in style or form but in topic or content. Or maybe it’s a timing issue. Maybe it’s a quality issue. Maybe it’s a numbers game - they can only give out 3 slots and they have 333 films. Maybe it’s a thematic issue - you have misunderstood (or it hasn’t been communicated) what they are programming or funding and the film doesn’t check those boxes. It’s an overwhelming process to be on the other side of this, holding the key for or away from a stranger.
I hope you can build some resilience in the face of this rejection. Nothing about this work or industry is fair or just - far from it. Sometimes you get a lucky break, other times you don’t. But you will never catch a break if you stop making. Finding the ability to keep creating, keep showing up, and keep finding the beauty in the process - even when no one else is watching - is the ultimate way to beat rejection.
This was ideally timed after I had a pitch to a magazine I really respect rejected today with no explanation besides, "it's not what we're looking for." What's hardest for me are the hours lost laboring for something that goes nowhere. I can't help but lament/grieve that lost time, especially knowing it was time not spent doing other things I love (e.g., creating more stories, hanging out with my kids). I think community helps build that resilience we need to keep going, right? Having others who've walked a mile in our shoes and can say, "Yeah, been there, it's hard, they're the worst, we'll get 'em next time."