Design x Molly Ratermann
Filmmaker & Actor
Interview conducted by Kelsey Callahan on May 27, 2020
Who are you, and what do you do?
I’m Molly Ratermann, and I’m a filmmaker from San Francisco. I live back and forth between L.A. and London, doing development for a company called Studio Soho in London. Other than that, I primarily make my own dark comedies in the indie film space with my production company Little Hand Productions.
Tell us about your journey from acting to making films.
I started when I was thirteen or fourteen. I actually started in directing, and I took a bunch of directing courses. My parents let me lie about my age so I could take college-age courses over the summer. I actually did that a few times. It was really nice that I got to hang with the older kids. But then I decided, “No, actually I want to be an actor now.” So I went into the acting space for about five years.
But then I realized kind of slowly, but surely, that my form of expression inside of the industry was kind of better suited for telling stories visually and directing the actors while being behind the camera, and having control over the story itself by telling a story in a unique way that’s from my point of view.
It was a weird journey because I went full circle, and my mom makes fun of me for it. But she said it from the beginning. “You know, you’re gonna come back to directing.” I’d say, “No Mom, I’m an actor.” And then she was right. Filmmaking became my thing.
How would you describe your design process when it comes to filmmaking?
I would say every project is different for me. For any creative, inspiration comes from the oddest things. You just kind of get a spark. That process is different every single time, but I think research is a big part of the process. A lot of the time, when I get an idea, I’ll write the story out, and then I create a vision board for it. That’s the best way for me to get it out there and start exploring and explaining my idea, by putting visuals together and a mood board for it, or even creating a poster for it. I design these really crappy posters, but it just gives me the ability to explore the story in a different way, and to think about the market for it too.
I think the process really comes down to constantly checking in, with “Okay, how does this help the story?” or “How does this elevate the scene or the message of the story?” It’s a visual medium, so I need to find a way to craft that visually first, in order to get a crew together and get everyone excited about the idea.
Where do you go for visuals once you start crafting your ideas?
That is actually the most frustrating part! It’s extremely frustrating, but there’s a new website called ShotDeck that was created by a bunch of cinematographers, which has been wildly helpful. For the most part, it’s “Oh, it’s kind of similar to that movie, maybe I can find it, take a screenshot on Google, and... Oh, I really like this.”
I’m on Pinterest too, but not for the cute, fun, girly things—I’m on there searching for the weirdest stuff. I’m doing a dark comedy about two extremist feminist serial killers, so you can imagine the weird stuff I’m Googling or searching for on Pinterest. I would say Pinterest has been helpful, but still, I think sourcing visuals in general is one of my biggest pain points. But once I’ve done it, it really does help craft that design for how I’m trying to tell the story.
Yeah, there is definitely so much that goes into creating a story.
Yeah, I mean, even talking just moodboards. You need them for wardrobe, location ideas, cinematography, almost every department. You need just absolutely everything, and it’s all pertaining to one tiny aspect of the film.
And then you need a moodboard for yourself, for the investor, or when pitching it to a distributor. Whatever that might be, everyone’s got their own way of relating to the story, so you need a visual way to interpret and communicate that to them, so that your vision comes to life in the way that you want.
Where do you get inspiration to make your films, like your short film Suicide?
I think the conversation around mental health has expanded so much in the last five to seven years. Initially, I remember a few friends of mine really struggling with mental health and being so frustrated, and I myself being frustrated for them. There was so much judgment that went around it, and misunderstanding that other people had about if someone was suicidal, or if they had mental health issues. I wanted to find a way that was easier for people to digest and relate to a topic, and then be able to reflect on it.
For instance, a lot of people just assume that being bipolar means you’re really angry or violent one second, and then you’re really sad, and then you’re really happy. That’s not how being bipolar works. I think that a big push for me was the misconception of mental health, and how I can explore that topic in a fun way.
In my case, I chose the topic of suicide. How can I go outrageous with it? My film is a bit of an outrageous concept, but you can connect with these characters. Everyone finds a character they relate to, and thinks, “Oh, now I could kind of see it from that other point of view, and I’m laughing and I don’t feel sad or afraid.” It’s sort of like constructive criticism—giving them a character they can agree and relate to, which allows them to feel comfortable having empathy for the other characters’ points of view or struggles.
Creating a successful film isn’t an easy task, let alone dealing with a difficult, taboo topic, such as mental health. Do you find any challenges when it comes to writing scripts around these topics?
Yeah, there are a few things. First off, you have to realize, as a storyteller choosing to highlight a taboo topic, that this is someone else’s story as well. You have to realize that you have a responsibility, since this is someone’s real struggle. If you’re going to take on a taboo subject, you gotta own it. You have to realize the responsibility, that this is their story too, so they need to be able to relate to this. This is the message you’re bringing to the world for them. You’re being their mouthpiece.
On top of that, I had an actor drop out of Suicide because they really had a hard time understanding the message that I was trying to convey about suicide using dark comedy. They read the script and felt, “Oh, maybe we’re just making fun of it, and we’re not really trying to touch on that topic.” It’s a scary thing for people to even come on board with because they go, “Wait a second, how are you going to approach this? I don’t want to be on something that sends the wrong message about suicide,” which is completely fair.
The big thing is getting people to trust you to tell that story and to be part of that project and have the right talent, and that’s on me as a director and being able to say, “No, trust me, trust my vision, trust my perspective on this subject and that I want to do it the most justice.”
I don’t want to just preach to the choir. I want other people to really understand this subject in, like I said, a fun, digestible way.
When it comes to working in the short film format, what is it like trying to fit all of the information you want to share in such a short amount of time?
I think a short film is so tough because you grow up with the beginning-middle-end structure your whole life, and storytelling has an arc. You have these character arcs, these character journeys, but short films are all about a moment in time. They’re all about showing a world and nailing down one kind of subject or one aspect, one little lesson inside of it. The hardest part with short films is not being able to really have a full journey with the character. Instead, you have to look at this character’s journey in life and find that one moment that’s really pinnacle and that people could get a lesson from.
I wouldn’t necessarily say I was successful with that in Suicide, because I kind of made a short feature. But aside from that, I think that is the tough part with short films. I’m in writers’ groups, and all of us go, “I’m making a short!” And then we get 45 pages down the road and we’re like, “This isn’t a short anymore.” So it’s really hard to keep it to just the essence of the story you’re trying to tell.
In Suicide, you not only played the lead character, but also wrote and directed the film. What was that experience like for you?
Everyone has mixed opinions about this. For me, I really enjoyed it because I always had to be on. I always had to be thinking with three different brains and three different hats, and that really works for me. It’s almost like playing sports, when you get that certain adrenaline and you’re able to be thinking about the play, and then the next play that could be happening, and the person behind you who’s going to come steal the ball from you. I feel like it’s that sort of adrenaline rush, so that really worked for me.
It is very exhausting and very challenging, in the sense that you really have to trust your instincts and your gut. When you’re one of the lead characters in the scene, it’s really easy to be directing everybody else and they’re not seeing you direct yourself necessarily because you’re not going to have your own conversation with yourself. It’s being able to trust your crew and yourself. But I had an amazing crew with me, so that was really helpful.
I think people think it’s harder than it is. I think of it like, “Okay, we’re in the scene, and I’m an actor now; the cut happens, and I’m the director now.” I don’t think it’s as complicated as it feels. But I will say, sometimes, in the middle of scenes, I would feel like I am in the scene and also have this other body over there watching the scene, like two brain spaces. It’s such a weird moment.
But it’s mostly important to surround yourself with a killer crew, which I have thankfully had.
What advice would you give new or aspiring filmmakers?
The advice I would give new and aspiring filmmakers is in two parts.
First off, stay in your lane. Run your own race, and focus on it. Don’t compare. Don’t be looking at other people. If you really have your own story to tell, if you really have your own brand and vision, then there’s no reason to compare. The number one thing you should be doing beyond your own lane is supporting. The more you support each other—other filmmakers, other crew members, cast, whatever it might be—the better you’re going to do, and the further you’re going to get down the road. I think that’s the hardest part. It’s almost like the debate over Oscars, you know? Can you really compare someone’s performance in each film? No, every performance is different. Every performance is unique.
Also never forget that story is king, no matter what. Come back to the story to ask, “What is the story? What is the purpose of the story?”
Rapid fire questions:
What’s your favorite thing to do in your free time?
Going to some nature spot, or doing a little hike, or checking out a new part of town. Because I write, it helps to be constantly people-watching and having experiences. I just love finding a new way to have an experience.
What’s your favorite book or podcast?
Oh, I wish I was better at podcasts! But Going Solo by Roald Dahl. It’s about his real life experience, and it is the craziest, most fun life journey I’ve ever read. It needs to be a movie.
What or who inspires you?
I’ve been really inspired by my family, as silly as it sounds. I’ve got a lot of kooky characters in my family. Otherwise, Elton John, Hunter S. Thompson, Charlie Chaplin—those are people who have inspired me forever. I feel like there’s a flurry of them in my films.
If you could live anywhere, where would that be? Why?
San Francisco. I’ve lived in New York City, L.A., and London, but San Francisco forever.
How would you describe yourself in three words?
Let’s have fun!