what I learned directing a documentary series

I finished directing American Candy — a documentary series about a group of Australian basketball players on a two-week tour through Los Angeles, Phoenix and Las Vegas — with a different understanding of the craft than I started with. Not because I didn't know what I was doing. But because there are things about documentary filmmaking you can only learn by actually doing it at feature length, under real pressure, with real people whose stories matter.

These are the three things that stuck.

1. you're never ready — but you'll learn more than you can imagine

There is no version of making a documentary series where you feel fully prepared before you start. The logistics alone are overwhelming. The access questions are unresolved. The story isn't fully formed. The budget is probably tighter than it should be. And you're about to spend weeks embedded with people whose trust you haven't fully earned yet.

I spent a lot of the pre-production period on American Candy trying to get to a point where I felt ready. I never got there. At some point you have to accept that the film will teach you what you need to know — and commit to being a good student.

By the end of the shoot I had learned things about pacing, about access, about the relationship between director and subject, and about my own instincts that I couldn't have learned any other way. Not from a textbook, not from watching other documentaries, not from shorter projects. There's a compression of learning that happens on a feature that is genuinely unlike anything else.

The practical implication: do the preparation you can, build the structure you need, and then let go of the idea that you'll feel ready. You won't. Go anyway.

2. it's equal parts finding the story and the story finding you

I went into American Candy with a clear set of themes — ambition, identity, the gap between where you're from and where you want to go. Those themes held. But the specific story that emerged, the moments that ended up carrying the film, the characters who became central — I couldn't have predicted any of that before we left.

Documentary is a conversation between your intentions and reality. You need strong thematic intent — without it you'll film everything and cut nothing, because you have no basis for decisions. But you also need to stay genuinely open to what's actually happening in front of you, even when it's not what you planned for.

Some of the best material in American Candy came from moments I almost didn't film. A quiet conversation on the sideline. An injury that derailed a selection. A look between two players after a loss. None of those were in the shot list. All of them are in the film.

The practical implication: know your themes deeply. Hold your shot list loosely. The film you planned and the film you make will be related — but not identical. That's not failure. That's documentary.

3. b-roll, b-roll, b-roll

If I could go back and give myself one piece of advice before the American Candy shoot, it would be this: film everything. The small moments, the in-between moments, the moments that don't seem to be about anything. The guys waiting for a bus. Someone eating. Hands on a phone. Shoes on a court. A look out a car window.

B-roll is not filler. It is the breath of a documentary. It's what allows the story to move, to slow down, to feel lived-in rather than staged. It gives your editor options. It covers joins. It creates texture and atmosphere that interview footage — however good — simply cannot provide on its own.

Documentary editors will tell you the same thing: they can cut anything if they have enough b-roll. They cannot rescue a scene that has none.

On a run-and-gun shoot like American Candy — single camera, constantly moving, no second unit — the discipline of always having your camera ready, always looking for the interesting frame in whatever situation you're in, is what separates a film that breathes from one that feels like a series of interviews stitched together.

The practical implication: before any interview or set piece, ask yourself: what are the twenty b-roll shots that could surround this moment? Then go and get them. You won't use all twenty. You'll be grateful you have them.

american candy is now streaming on sbs on demand

You can watch the finished film — and see these lessons in practice — at the link below. It's free, it's national, and it's the film I'm most proud of.

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