Impasto Syndrome

So, I did the unthinkable. I contoured a film idea I’ve developed over the past couple of decades to meet the requirements of a grant application. 

After twisting the plot, tweaking cast demographics, scuttling locations, and arbitrarily shoe-horning in some pseudoscience per the funder’s particular requirements, I’m happy to report that I did NOT get the grant. 

Phew. Close one. What a piece of shit that would’ve been. 

Given the creative compromises and consistently poor results of my grant writing efforts, I wonder why I subject myself and my work to this process in the first place. The facile answer is the money. Movies are expensive, even for a micro-budget matinee idol. But is that entirely the issue? Is there not some underlying motivation, some Freudian force simmering in my subconscious? 

When I’m making my appeals to the gatekeepers I’m doing so, in part, for the institutional legitimacy that the Good [insert verb here] Seal of Approval confers. And the money.

This happens to me …