All language subtitles for MasterClass Danny Elfman Teaches Music For Film - 11.Insecurity and Instincts

[MUSIC PLAYING]

I never had a
mentor, and the reason

why I'm talking
to you all now is

to share my experiences so
that you might find yourself

in a similar situation and go,
OK, he didn't have the answer,

and he felt really
insecure, so the fact

that I feel insecure
about this may not

be the end of the world.

I don't think any of the
really good composers--

composers are arrogant fucks.

There's no doubt about that.

But the fact is, the
arrogance is generally

hiding great insecurity
that we all carry.

I don't think it's different
between a composer and an actor

that way.

Sometimes the more bravado
they have about themselves,

it's covering a deep insecurity.

I'm constantly insecure
about what I'm doing.

I never know if it's right.

Of course I wish I had a mentor.

Somebody that I can go to
that I respected, and go, just

tell me what you think
of this and that they

can give me some solid advice.

But I just never
had that in my life,

so I had to learn to
trust my instincts.

And what I'm telling
you right now

is that it's OK to feel
unsure of yourself.

And it's OK to feel insecure,
even during the process,

even at the end of the process.

You might have moments where
you feel like I've triumphed.

I've done this scene.

This scene came out OK.

And then find yourself one
week later going, I've failed.

I just-- I don't know
where I am right now.

I painted myself into a corner.

I don't know how
to get out of it.

It's OK.

You've got to watch your clock.

You've got to keep
yourself moving.

But it's OK to not feel
really confident in exactly

what you're doing all the time.

And I could tell you after
105, 100-and-something films,

rarely that I approach it
feeling really confident.

And generally when I was
really confident that way

is because, it's was a sequel.

And I'd already done
the heavy lifting,

and now I could approach it
with a sense of, oh yeah,

I got this.

I know what I'm doing.

And it's because it's
a sequel, and all

I really have to do is kind
of reinvent some things

and move around and play
with what I've already done.

But that, by far, is not
the majority of the writing.

It's filled with doubt.

And I think all artists that
are worth their anything are

filled with doubt all the time.

And the few that just
don't have any doubt,

I think they're
destined become--

they could be very successful.

They could be good workmen.

They could be good craftsmen.

But they're not gonna be
the really great artists.

Because I think doubt and
art are kind of combined.

They're just-- it's
almost impossible

to pull them apart doubt.

Doubting yourself and then
finding confidence and moving

forward and then doubting
what you've just done

and then working
through that, I think

this is the life of
a composer, and I

think it's the life of
an artist in general.

And it's OK to feel that way.

Having said all that, my
doubt, do I ever express that

to the director or a producer?

No way.

Never.

Never.

There is what you feel
and what you project,

and what you project
is confident.

I got this [BLEEP].

I own it.

I got it.

It's mine.

Don't worry.

Don't worry.

You're good.

That's not necessarily
what I feel,

but if I said what
I feel, I would

have had a career of about
3.5 years instead of 35 years.

So let me make this clear.

Two sides.

Your feelings and what
you're dealing with.

And that's what I'm talking
to you about right now.

But who you express that to?

Another composer.

Never your director.

Never, God knows, the
studio or the producers.

You have to put on a
good face all the time.

You share what
you need to share,

and you project what
you need to project.

And still allow yourself
to feel what you're feeling

and know that it's OK.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

You find yourself
analyzing, asking yourself,

is this part of the melody?

Is this turn of the melody?

Is this thing-- is it it?

There's a lot-- a lot of
pretty shiny objects there,

and you're trying to
sort them through.

And it's way for that little
bit shiny thing of going,

me, me, pick me.

And you have to listen
to that sometimes.

And it may not always be the
right thing, but that's comes

down to instincts.

You develop your
instincts however

you need to develop
your instincts.

Your instincts are
gonna be your life.

When you're a film composer
and you're working fast

and you're working
under the gun and you're

working under pressure
and you always

feel like you need more time,
you have to go on instinct.

And you're all gonna
find your own way

to find those instincts.

But if you don't find those
instincts, you're lost.

You're not going to
have a long career.

You'll drive yourself
crazy, and eventually you'll

want to get out of it
completely because you'll

think you're going mad.

And for those of us who
do, in fact, go mad,

but we continue in our
careers regardless.

At a certain point,
our instincts

start to tell us things, and
we learn to go, all right.

It may be right,
it may be wrong,

but this is what my
instinct's telling me,

so that's where I'm going.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

When you're making these
decisions of crossroads

and where to go, you
tend to go with your gut.

But sometimes, you know, you try
to research as much as you can.

But that research often
doesn't really tell you much.

You're still going
with your gut,

especially because
we're frequently

dealing with somebody who hasn't
really done a lot of something

before.

There are certain directors
that if they call and they've

done something really
well for a long time,

I'm not gonna question.

Now, I may still
get a bad movie,

but I'm not gonna
question their ability

to do something really well.

Just whether it happens
on the project I'm on,

that's the only
thing I hope for.

Nobody sets out to
make a bad movie.

But you can't say
yes to everything

because it takes
x number of weeks.

So whether it takes
eight weeks or 14 weeks

or five weeks or longer, you
just you have to make choices.

Because, all right,
if I say yes to this,

I can't do another
film for three months,

two and a half months.

And then something
else comes along

and you go, oh, man, I'd
kill to get off this film.

Now, if you're starting out,
these are not your concerns.

Your concerns is
getting a job, getting

that first piece of work,
getting those things out there.

But I'm talking down the line.

It's like, how do you
know, and what do you

do when you're stuck on
something that you realize

is just gonna do nothing for
you when something much tastier

comes along?

To me, you just-- you
suffer through it,

and it just is what it is.

You do the right thing.

You see it through.

And you go, well, that time
it just didn't work out.

A lot may depend on what is
your point of what you're doing.

Because if you have a
really clear objective,

which is to get
successful and rich, OK?

If that's what you
want and that's

what will make you
happy and satisfied,

then it clarifies these
choices really simply.

You just go the potential
lucrativeness of this project

over this one is higher.

It's like-- then
you can actually

get very rational and logical.

This one is more
likely-- if I look at it,

this is the kind of movie that
does really well overseas.

There's gonna be good income
coming in from ASCAP or BMI.

There are many other reasons
which I might or might not

make this the choice based
as a career decision.

On the other hand, if you really
just want to make something,

you've got to mix it up.

I mean, I've made many decisions
based on, oh, this is--

I think this is gonna be
fairly easy and lucrative,

and I need a break because
the last thing I did

felt like it almost killed me.

And sometimes you make your
decisions based on that.

You're feeling exhausted,
and you're just not up

for what looks like,
oh my God, this is

gonna be a serious brain drain.

This one's gonna
be a real killer,

and I've just finished
one or two killers.

I need a break.

And you'll take something
just because it's lighter.

You know what, this is a format.

It's gonna be lighter.

I think the director
is known for being

fairly easy to work with.

And it's a type
of music that I've

done successfully in the past,
and I could just enjoy it.

And then sometimes it's just
a career thing, and I go,

I think this thing would just
be really potentially a good--

I could see a great future.

If this works out, it
leads to many other things.

And I'll make a
decision based on that.

Most often, a director comes
to me, and I'll just be like,

I like this woman
or this man, or I

like the potential of
what their excitement is

about the project.

And I could feel their
energy and excitement,

and I just get
caught up into it.

And I say, yes, and it's done.

They sold it to me.

They sold themselves.

They sold the project on me.

So there's all kinds
of different things

that go into that process
of decision-making.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

To succeed in a
commercial industry

where there's
tremendous competition

and you always feel like you're
being nipped at from behind

because no matter
what you do, there

is plenty of people
trying to take your spot.

You have to have ego.

We're ego-driven in the sense
that we want to succeed,

and there's a competitiveness
in us that drives us on.

It keeps us going.

And that ego, of
course, as we all know,

can become absurd
and unmanageable,

as it does in many artists where
their ego becomes their thing.

They're so ego-driven that
you feel like, OK, now this

is crossing into politics,
which is pure ego-driven.

But, on the other hand,
we aren't in charge.

The director is in charge.

And for that to work,
you have to, like,

take your ego down a big
notch and allow them to lead.

And you find a way to follow.

You have to manage your
ego, and that's not easy.

You're constantly,
like, allowing

it to go where it's
gonna go, and then you

have to dial it down.

And then sometimes you
have to dial it down a lot.

Because if you're really gonna
listen to what a director is

trying to tell you,
if you're really

gonna try to find a solution
to something that's not there,

you have to let your ego go.

You have to let
it go completely.

You have to, like,
go, all right,

I'm thinking through
the director's eyes.

How might the director
be viewing this?

And those moments, you have
to, like, take your ego

and hang it on the
coat rack at the door.

Because without that,
you're just gonna fight it.

You're gonna fight it.

You're gonna fight it.

You're gonna fight it.

And you have to remove that and
allow yourself to go, where--

how can I get into
this other mind?

How can I see through
this other mind?

Can I do it?

And there's a constant
wrestling match with you

and your pride and your ego.

And, of course, you have
to have these things.

If you're without
ego, you're gonna

get trounced on very
early on somewhere.

You're gonna get squashed.

So you have to have that
bit of a warrior in you

to, like, stand up and do
battle for what you believe in.

Because that's gonna happen.

And you also have to
become the zen priest,

and you have to be able to take
that all off and go, all right,

it's just two of us,
and I'm not this.

I'm not that.

I'm just trying to hear what
you're saying and understand.

And that's the moment
where it becomes very zen.

And balancing that out
is something you just

need to learn to do, but I
think it's pretty essential

to be able to do that
and maintain yourself

for the distance.