Letter to a Young Filmmaker
You have chosen to express yourself through sound and image. You have chosen an essentially revolutionary and political act: making films. Take care not to be diverted by the most paradoxical and spurious of motives.
Preserve your independence: it is also that of the viewer; it is “mutual”.
You are called upon to create audiovisual structures; they convey and guarantee nothing but their own reality. Any other truth can be underpinned solely by the viewer’s own understanding and by yours alone, at the moment when your work takes form.
You provide the structures, and the viewer will give them meaning, even if – and precisely because – your film is built on the pretext, and solely on the pretext, of a narrative and imaginary element.
There is no such thing as a good subject. There is only a good project. Your film is a cinematic object, whose subject – the principal one – is the viewer, and the viewer alone. You will not take their place, but will watch them, observe them, scrutinise them through the gaze of your film upon them, through listening to your film directed at them. Without complacency and with precision, you will first have exercised this gaze, this act of listening – the film’s effect – upon yourself, the very first viewer of a cinematic object and of the work it performs.
You do not have to fill a latent void, even if you are (and will be) the object of this demand; but the film you construct will take into account a latent desire in the viewer: not to be taken care of (which is what is commonly desired for them), but to act and to be acted upon by the film and within it.
Having embraced the difficult desire to become a filmmaker, know that this desire is fragile, and that all the sirens and mirages of the film industry will exert themselves to the full to distract and divert you from that desire.
In the struggle that lies ahead, be as unyielding as possible.

Image from L’été (Marcel Hanoun, 1968) | © Re:Voir
This text was originally published in Écran in 1977.

