Stuck.

Breathwork. My first feature film. And moving the energy.

I attended my first-ever group Breathwork session last weekend and all I can really say about it is wow.

As a Triple Capricorn, scheduling 90 minutes to breathe runs counter to my natural rhythms (which is go-go-go, work-work-work), but I did it because A) I’ve been intentional about slowing down as of late, and B) the woman running it was someone I’d been wanting to introduce my wife to since we’d moved to Detroit, an especially warm and spiritually evolved being I’d met through a mutual friend. We attended on Sunday and it was, in a phrase, life-changing.

I am still in the integration process so I’m not yet prepared to share the whole of my experience, but did you know when you’re undergoing deep breathwork, your body can seize up and you can get claw hands and be completely unable to control your movements? I for one, did not. Upon signing up for the session I imagined something much more light and attractive — what would essentially amount to gentle meditation. Instead I got an intense, physically transcendent experience that forced energy that had been stuck inside of me to be channeled and moved out in the most cathartic of ways. According to a close female friend childhood trauma is, apparently, stored in the calves. After my first breathwork session my left calf (the left side being associated with the masculine) is still sore as fuck.

While I’m not ready to share the details of why I’d had energy trapped in the side of my body associated with the masculine (and no, it has nothing to do with my father), the process itself got me thinking about energy being stuck in general and how, perhaps, sharing about my first feature film might help move some of the energy and feelings I have about it. The film is, aptly, called Stuck.

About a decade ago I proclaimed aloud on a whim to a co-worker that I was, “going to make a feature film.” She responded “Sweet,” and walked-off, unaware that by simply bearing witness to my proclamation and responding affirmatively, it had become a real and tangible goal. I contacted my writing partner, “Let’s write a one-location we can produce ourselves.” And we did.

The journey of making an independent film is, not surprisingly, an arduous one. Bringing this project to life from conception to completion took a toll on nearly every aspect of my life — including my personal one. The crowdfunding campaign via Kickstarter ultimately resulted in the end of a nearly twenty-year friendship. My childhood best friend, the Romy to my Michelle, who knew my lifelong hopes and dreams of making movies — essentially told me my dreams weren’t worth a $5 pledge. I get that money is a sensitive topic, but it wasn’t even a donation — it was a pledge, as Kickstarter doesn’t actually take the funds unless your fundraising goal is reached. So rather than saying on Day 1 of the campaign, “Of course I’ll find a way to come up with five extra bucks over the next 30 days to support you!” she simply said “no,” which admittedly felt like a punch to the gut.

After the campaign wrapped and we were successful in raising $55,000 of the $150k budget (not easy. Crowdfunding is a full time job. But that is for another post), she reached out to me and for the first time in the history of our friendship, I stood up for myself and shared my feelings with her. I admitted I was hurt and said, “It isn’t even about the money. You could have said you were broke and then offered to share the campaign on social media. It’s about support.” She gaslit me with something along the lines of, “oh yeah to my paltry number of followers?” and when I told her that I felt like she didn’t want me to be successful, she called me crazy and blocked my number.

Looking back with more mature eyes now, after years of intense therapy, it’s clear as day that our friendship was wildly toxic. I had been walking on eggshells around her since we were twelve, constantly seeking her approval. Had she been a true friend she would have been rooting for me from the start and her response to my hurt feelings would have been, “I am so sorry you feel I don’t want you to be successful. That isn’t true — I regret that my actions have made you feel that way,” and we could have begun repairing the fracture from there. But blocking? I must have hit a trigger point and one doesn’t have to work hard to imagine what that was: she in fact, did not want me to be successful.

The ending of that friendship wasn’t even the hardest part of making the film. The end of my marriage (yep, got divorced, too) wasn’t the most difficult part, either. Holding the project together by a thread, going over-budget and having to sell my car to pay off the crew, having emotional arguments with the director during production and post, selling the rights to a criminal who stole our money and held the film hostage for years — none of that holds a candle to what the most excruciating aspect of making it turned out to be.

In the end, the biggest heartbreak of all was not appreciating the end result.

I did it. The thing all independent filmmakers dream of doing. I wrote a script, managed to raise $150k and get respected actors like Heather Matarazzo, Joel McHale and up-and-comers like Chris Redd and Brian Jordan Alvarez to star. I saw the film over the finish line, selling personal belongings and losing significant relationships along the way. It showed on screens at festivals around the globe and took home a slew of awards. It got distribution (supposedly)! I did it, and yet I was so attached to the idea in my mind of what the film would be, and what it would do for my career — that I wasn’t able to appreciate what it was.

The “distributor” in question turned out to be a pathological liar and serial criminal. In our defense when we signed with him he seemed legitimate — he had a slate of other acquired titles, one of which was produced by a well-known and respected actor. We thought we’d hit the jackpot — our years of hard-work and struggles to get this film across the finish line, and we would actually make money on our shoestring indie comedy!

The “distributor” used an aggregate company to release the film in May 2019. At the time, still emotionally attached to the movie in my head I set out to make and not the movie we ended up making — I was too grief-stricken to promote it. While I wanted to yield a return on my investment ($20k of my own money, in addition to the years of work and personal downfalls), my emotions over the outcome prevented me from screaming about it from the rooftops. I did the bare-minimum in terms of promotion: I sent emails to the Kickstarter supporters and posted about it a couple of times on social media. Other than that, I threw my hands and gave the power to the Universe — what will be, will be.

After stringing us along for some time with promises of “payments coming soon,” the truth of the “distributor” began to come into focus. We learned he was under investigation by the FBI and several other filmmakers were suing him to get the rights back to their films. Due to a disagreement amongst the Stuck producers on the best path forward (as well as zero money for legal assistance), we ended up in limbo while the “distributor” went to prison and served his time, and then continued to hold the project hostage for reasons largely unknown, but were likely just pure spite.

Four years after the initial release, in the Summer of 2023, we finally got the rights back (and the hard-drives, thank God). With little resources and having suffered so much trauma throughout the process, it admittedly took time for myself and the other two producers to come together and get the title back out there.

But finally, in September of 2024, eight years after production and five years since the short-lived release, Stuck was back out into the world. I sat down on the couch, settled in and for the first time ever, really watched the film…

And I enjoyed every second of it! The time and acceptance of the reality of the outcome that had transpired released me of my previously held attachments. I was finally able to view the movie as it was, not as I had pre-determined it should be. It was like I had birthed a teenager who was rebellious and out of control and put me through hell. But after enduring very real growing pains together, I was able to stand back and really see them for the person they were — and I was proud of them (and the teenager was grateful I fought with the director like I did, so I could give them the best chance possible).

Stuck is genuinely funny and heartfelt. Heather Matarazzo (my now-wife, thanks to the film) gave a stellar performance that was always worthy of being seen and appreciated, as did the entire talented cast. My sweet dog Tagalong is in the movie (she was 4 then, she’s 13 now). And a massive bonus? I also appeared in it and in doing so locked in visual, archivable evidence of my 29-year-old face and body. At 38, I bow down in gratitude to the Universe for that footage!

At the start of this journey I was young, arrogant and too afraid of failure to appreciate the gift I’d been given. What an incredible dream and privilege it is to get to make a film. It’s been a long road to get to this place with it emotionally but I don’t regret a second of it. Making an independent feature film, with all it’s toils and troubles, is more valuable than film school. After holding onto the grief over the outcome for years, I’m thankful now for the experience, for the lessons and most of all for the finished product. I’m proud of my work, as well as the work of the many artists involved in bringing it to life.

Stuck is officially un-stuck. I can finally breathe through it.

Stuck: Irresponsible, woman-child Darby plans to turn her month-long house arrest into a stay-cation, but it backfires when she finds herself confined to the same house as her ex-boyfriend and his new fiancee. Available now on Amazon.