On gently parachuting into the lives of others

One of the pillars of your work is portraying the complexity of humanity. What do you feel is the most human part of your creative process?

Wow, that’s a hard question. Parachuting into other people’s lives, getting to know them, and having the privilege of sharing their story is very human. Every time I journey the world and meet new people, it broadens my understanding of the world. It’s also a responsibility to represent them and to tell their stories. I love the aspect of human contact and the opportunity to keep entering other people’s lives because I have this pass as a filmmaker.

Sometimes I feel that, as documentary filmmakers, we spend a lot of time spending someone else’s time. How do you find a way to give back to your protagonists after you spend so much time in their world?

We promised the families of All the Empty Rooms that we would try to capture the story of each child and share it with the world. That was our promise to them. When we finished what we thought was the fine cut, we met with each set of parents, and we showed them the film to make sure that we had done justice to the memory of each of their children. That was so important to us. We were prepared to take notes, listen, and take direction from them if we didn’t quite get it right. And in the end, all of the parents were happy with what they saw.

One of the most interesting aspects of All the Empty Rooms is these forms working in parallel with each other. You’ve made a documentary about the creation of a journalistic piece. What do you believe documentaries can still do that journalism potentially can’t?

What I strive for with my work, especially lately, is to try to tell stories that are for everybody. I try to tell stories to people who strongly disagree with my opinions, hoping that they might still watch and listen. I hope that they might be affected by it, prompted by it, or potentially, in a perfect world, have their heart softened. That is something that I dream of and strive for with my work.

All the Empty Rooms is a film about gun violence that never says the word “gun” in the whole film. That was by design. We wanted to make a film that people, no matter their opinion, no matter their political position, might sit and watch to the end and wouldn’t have a reason to turn it off. It’s really important to me to tell stories that aren’t just for people who agree with me, and to find connections between people.

What does your research process look like before you start filming? Are you outlining, interviewing, journaling, obsessing?

With All the Empty Rooms, Steve Hartman reached out to me and he told me about his project. He told me that he had written to every single family since Sandy Hook who lost a child to a school shooting, and asked them if he could come and photograph their bedroom to share their child with the world. I was really drawn to the story because I have two little girls and I want them to live in a safer world. “He asked, “Do you think there’s a documentary here?” When I said “Yes,” he said, “ You should do it, but I don’t want to be in it.” I just said, “No. You are it. I want you as a sort of apolitical figure, as someone who is the opposite of polarizing. I want you to take us on this journey with you because I think you could be a really important messenger.” When the good news guy has bad news, I think people tend to listen. That helped to do some of the work I’m trying to do in terms of building bridges, bridging gaps, and speaking to an audience with a broad range of views.

What is something about your creative process that has changed dramatically over the years?

I’m now very open to every film being different from the one before. Earlier in my career, I thought I knew how to tell a story and I did it in a certain way. A lot of my earlier work probably felt very similar. Now, I’m interested in each new film being a blank canvas. Depending on the topic, the people involved, and the story we’re telling, I’m open to doing something really different than the last one.

That excites me—the idea of keeping an open mind and letting the topic and the material lead us. All the Empty Rooms begged for a gentle unfolding, for space and quiet and room for contemplation, and for room to grieve. We had a cut that was 34 minutes long. It was pretty tight, but we decided it just needed to breathe more. We cut six minutes of dialogue out of the film, but still left the film at 34 minutes, essentially adding six minutes of silence. I think that made it better. I like the idea of really letting the story lead the creatives.

In a world where many filmmakers struggle with sustainability, how do you feel like you have built a sustainable creative life that allows you to continue to make work that fills your cup?

A sustainable creative life? I’m not sure I have that. But I get a lot from being home as much as I can, from my kids, and from seeing the world through their eyes. I have 5-year-old and 9-year-old daughters. I think that’s the hard thing to sustain—not getting so tired that you start to miss the amazing, important things around you. With All the Empty Rooms, my relationship with my daughters really informed what I saw in the stories of the children. I didn’t even realize it until afterwards, but you can kind of tell the film was made by a father of girls. I’ve been told that.

It was important to show this universal bond that, in the cases of the families, was broken because of gun violence, by a crisis that is absolutely preventable. We have to find a way to change it, because it is preventable. We actually have the power to do something.

You’ve been Oscar nominated multiple times, and have won multiple Emmys across documentary, TV, and narrative work. How has recognition changed the way that you approach a new project?

I’m still interested in the same things: telling stories that make a difference and might be able to change hearts and minds. What’s changed for me, in a small way maybe, is getting support and raising money. But it’s not that much easier. There are also some stories that come my way, in part because of the recognition. For example, Steve Hartman called me because he saw me on the Oscar broadcast. So, in a way, the Oscars was a direct link to me having the opportunity to make All the Empty Rooms.

Is there any subject matter that you find yourself averse to or afraid to move towards?

I am very conscious that time is finite, that I’m not getting younger, and that I don’t know how many more films I’ll get to make. I try to choose wisely because I didn’t feel that way when I was younger. I felt, “Oh, life is infinite! Time is infinite!” I don’t feel that way anymore. I’m more selective and cautious about committing to a project. I am conscious about being picky.