Director Statement - LET THE MOON BE MY MOON

This film was born out of desperation, the desperation to make another. I had thought my next film was going to be the sequel to my last. I spent years developing it. Writing; rewriting; making notes about how I’d shoot it; creating look books for characters, locations, and themes. It even had a pre-buy from a notable streamer. But that wasn’t enough to make it so. The project encountered typical obstacles: casting, scheduling, financing. And some not so typical ones. A pandemic. A war. I felt myself dying inside. Watching movies—one of my greatest pleasures—had become difficult. A reminder of my inability to create. I started watching motovlogs instead. The first person point-of-view felt both peaceful and kinetic, a juxtaposition that reminded me of my childhood, and a motorcycle left as a posthumous gift from my dad. I bought a motorcycle—my first in over 40 years—and a GoPro. I thought maybe I could combine motovlogging with my love of horror and the supernatural. I embarked upon the journey realizing that it, too, could die a lonely death. There’s just so much content out there and I’d likely be seen as just another old “white” guy (I’m Argentine) who should step aside. But the act of creating, of making something completely mine, without being tied to other people’s money, felt more meaningful than whatever fate awaited it. I wrote six motovlog episodes, each inspired by one of my films. I still needed an actor though. So I put on my director’s cap and turned the lens inward. Aside from my mom, I’m the only character here, a sad sack version of myself. I made a film about dying, acceptance, and the need to let go, but it’s also a film about hope and perseverance. I suspect that, like my other films, this too may fall into obscurity, but my yearning to create is bigger than my need to have it seen. It always has been. My hope is that it inspires others to create, even in the face of uncertainty—to embrace personal storytelling, even if that means putting your vulnerability on display. — A.D. CALVO