To begin with, the number of details to wrangle, the number of moving parts, is staggering.

Then, there are hundreds of people to manage, each with different, strongly held creative opinions.

And then there are millions of dollars being spent at a rapid clip, with any chance of returns hanging speculatively on the line.

So perhaps it’s not strange that movie making is a study in controlled disaster, an act of frantically building sandcastles just as the tide rolls in.

Perhaps it’s stranger, in fact, that movies ever get made at all.

But, either way, our two little films, like any I’ve been involved with in the past, are total, ongoing disasters. They teeter on the edge, nearly falling apart completely, before, with diplomacy, fast-talking, and elbow grease, somehow coming back into place.

Which is to say, it’s about a month until principal photography starts on both Keeper of the Pinstripes and Yelling to the Sky, and, even though I’ve nearly stopped sleeping and going to the bathroom to free up time, even though I’m considering mainlining Peptid AC for the stress, both films are, actually, doing just about as well as we possibly could have hoped.

[And, even more amazingly, I think they might both end up really, really good.]