“CUT.”
Dov Simens taught guerrilla filmmaking.
Break the rules.
Don’t wait for permission.
Just shoot something great.
He didn’t just say it. He believed it.
And one morning at Raleigh Studios, we decided to put that to the test.
We were working on something called Movie Cloud—a streaming platform for independent films that couldn’t get distribution. This was before that idea became normal. Back then, it felt like we were trying to build something a little ahead of its time.
We wanted to shoot a video for potential investors. Not just talking heads, but something that actually looked like a real production.
The idea was simple: Shoot it on the backlot at Raleigh Studios, where Dov taught his 2-Day Film School.
We wanted it to be fun. A little over the top.
There was just one problem.
They said no.
We could shoot his class inside the theater, but the actual lot itself? Totally off limits.
So I said, “Let’s pull an Ed Wood.”
Dov didn’t hesitate.
We told Raleigh we needed to get there early to set up for filming his class.
Then we showed up at 5:30 in the morning with a small crew, actors, and a plan.
Five crew. Cameras, lights, sound. Five or six actors.
The lot was empty. It was quiet in that magical, mystical early-morning studio way.
Honey wagons were lined up.
Massive soundstage doors were closed, holding all the magic inside.
So we just started shooting.
Out in the open.
Exactly where we weren’t supposed to be.
We’d walk up to one of those huge soundstage doors and I’d say:
“Okay, Dov—we’re going to shoot you opening the door. You come out, and an actress runs up asking if you can help her.”
No discussion.
Dov would nod…walk over…open the door…take his position…
Then look back at me and say:
“Say ACTION whenever you’re ready.”
That was it.
We weren’t planning. We weren’t debating.
We were just shooting.
At one point I had him walking out of a honey wagon—we literally just found one with the door unlocked—going full Dov:
“YOU WANT TO MAKE YOUR FILM? YOU WANT DISTRIBUTION?”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
“NO ONE CARES!”
Dov's yelling echoed across the empty lot.
When the scene was done, just like that, he was in position for the next setup.
And here’s the part that still makes me laugh…
Security would drive by.
And every time they did, I’d yell:
“CUT! Everyone move to the side—let him through.”
Like it was completely normal.
Like we were doing them a favor.
And the craziest thing?
They’d just nod. Maybe give a little wave thanks. And keep driving.
We didn’t sneak. We didn’t hide.
Because we looked like we belonged there.
We acted like a real production.
In Dov’s mind and mine, we were.
So to them, we were one too.
We shot for two hours.
We'd do a take or two—“CUT! Moving on!”
No second-guessing. No “one more for safety.” No “let’s try a different motivation.”
Dov was the same guy who’d tell students: “If you want your actor to cry on command… pull a nose hair.”
We were just getting what we needed and moving on, because we had a hard out.
At 9:00am, Dov was teaching his class.
By 8:30am, 150 people would be lining up to check in.
So we wrapped, packed everything up…
And just like that—
I was back at the registration table, signing people in, taking credit cards.
Dov was sitting there, smiling, talking to people…
Like nothing had happened.
Two hours earlier, we were shooting a full production across the Raleigh Studios backlot.
Now?
It was just another seminar.
Dov always said: Don’t wait for permission.
That morning, we didn’t.
If you want to see what that morning looked like:
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I’m currently working on a long-form piece about the golden age of story seminars (roughly 1999–2020)—a time when hundreds of writers would gather simply to learn how story works.
(C) Derek Christopher - All Rights Reserved. Please contact for permission to reprint.
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