Ghazaleh Golbakhsh is an Iranian-New Zealand writer and filmmaker based in Tāmaki Makaurau, who recently directed new series Miles from Nowhere.

It’s 9pm on a blistering cold Monday and we are waiting for typical Auckland rain to drizzle away so that we can get back to filming a wedding in a local community centre for the new series Miles from Nowhere, a dark comedy about a young Muslim wannabe-singer who befriends the SIS agent sent to spy on him. 

A happy Santa on his sleigh decoration twinkles proudly on the building’s roof despite it being the middle of March. In the weird wet heat of the set and the 10th hour of work, five different people are asking me questions and I have no answers.

It reminds me of the iconic scene from Francois Truffaut’s film Day for Night (1973), itself a love letter to cinema, where Truffaut plays himself, a film director. As various crew members line up to ask him a myriad of somewhat banal questions about the film they are making, his voiceover narrates wistfully, “What is a director? Someone who’s asked questions about everything. Sometimes, he knows the answers.” 

I cite this not to flaunt my pretentious film school education, but to revisit that age ol’ question that haunts many of us in the creative fields: what the hell am I doing? 

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It’s not uncommon to be a creative with a strong case of imposter syndrome. It’s classic behaviour for perfectionists and high achieving nerds. I’ve spent many years in therapy attempting to overcome my inner saboteur who whispers ‘you’re not good enough’ at times of great stress instead of sending good vibes of dopamine and serotonin to ease my pain. 

Part of this is due to growing up in a time where self care and wellness was not normalised, where it was still taboo to be in therapy and where sexism was as rife as ever. 

When I signed onto Miles from Nowhere, I was the only woman in an above-the-line role (often creative or management roles who develop the project before filming begins), as all of the producers and writers were men. Much to their credit, this did change quickly, but it still triggered a rather ugly memory for me. 

It was the early 2000s and fresh out of film school I was on the hunt for a job in the industry; my goal, to gain the much coveted role of a runner on, well, anything. I managed to gain an interview with a local production company and yet was turned down as I would (and I quote), “upset the balance of the all-male crew as I was a woman”. 

They kindly offered me an office job which I angrily turned down. An office job to me also awoke another offensive memory of being told that I should become a secretary by my high school guidance counsellor because I was an excellent typist. I’m not hating on secretaries but my actual question was, “how do I become a filmmaker?” so this seemed out of place and ignorant.

These memories within memories feel like some demented version of Inception but they do justify the imposterdom. They also justify an internal rage that simmers even as the industry tries to change its sexist/racist/classist/ageist ways. I can sprout various statistics: In Hollywood, women directors made up 11% in the top 250 grossing films of 2022 . 

Here in 2018, only 22% of directors in television drama were women, “up from 20% in 2017 and 11% in 2016.” That same report from NZ on Air also notes, “if a project has a male producer it is less likely to have a female director.” Even a bit of good news is followed by frustratingly dire ones. 

In their gender pay gap survey in 2023, Women in Film and Television NZ found that the pay for women and men directors was on par but that every other department heralded a large gender pay gap (the largest in the camera department at 53%).

What is most infuriating is that the demand is there. Film schools have classes that are 50/50 women and men (these are very binary stats, I apologise) and talent is not the issue as many women directors are critically acclaimed – your Coppolas, Gerwigs and Bigelows. 

Things are as always harder for women of colour and queer women. Breaking barriers and being the first is inspirational I’m sure, but it’s probably dead tiring too. Breaking that burden of representation relies on gaining more representation. Give us more Zhaos, DuVernays and Liangs (if you’re less sure of these three directors, then my point is made).

As a director you are bringing your vision to the project and depending on the format (for instance, film is known to be a director's medium rather than television where the producer or showrunner is the creative boss), you are a leader in a certain way, most often when you are on set. During filming is where you make a lot of the decisions: you are literally the one who yells ‘cut’ to end the scene when you think it should end, actors and crew ask you questions and the decisions more often than not are decided by you. 

I can see why anyone with an ounce of ego would let it get to their head but equally overwhelming for anyone with nagging self doubt. It’s hard when you’re not a loud person, either in personality or in physique. I do not step on set and command a space. I am sadly used to apologising for taking up space, consistently overusing ‘sorry’ for the most minute things (I’m working on it, but I am a Cancer moon so it’s a long road). 

And yet I relish the role. It’s challenging, creative and exciting just as it can be boring, stressful and chaotic. But like many creative projects, it’s all worth it for the satisfaction and imminent glee (or dread, depending) you get when you watch the finished product. Or so called finished, because as that old saying goes, art is never finished, just abandoned.

The masochist in me loves being a leader. It both thrills and scares me, and yet it has been hard realising that leadership comes in many different forms. 

In cinema, alongside the Nouvelle Vague, came Auteur theory which basically gave all creative power and accolades to the director. The director made their stamp on the work and therefore it became ‘a Truffaut film’. This bode well with numerous (male) directors who became known as giants in the field and for good reason. They were/are excellent at their craft, but some of them were/are appallingly horrendous leaders. Your Hitchcocks, Kubricks and Camerons. Their autocratic leadership relied on traumatising and even harassing their (namely women in the case of the first two) cast and crew and yet they were pardoned because it was all in the name of great art. 

But for me, this myth of the creative genius is an archaic fallacy. You do not need to be a fuckboy to make great films. Just look at Varda, Jenkins, and Campion. Obviously there are women directors who are nightmares, but ironically due to the sexism, they are not given the same air of prestige.

Miles from Nowhere was full of strong women in front of and behind the scenes. From production to cast, it was quite a supportive atmosphere. Again early in my career, I would come across some women in the industry who were so hardened (most likely by the inherent sexism) that they were extra tough on young women like me who were starting out. I literally had one producer who would not even look me in the eye. A Miranda a la The Devil Wears Prada if you may. They are, thankfully, becoming rare as the industry tries to curb out the old boys club for a more inclusive and open place. Now I meet women who are advocating and mentoring other women as a way to help foster this change. Again, research shows that when women are in positions of leadership, they often support and bring in more women creatives and crew.

I personally love collaborating and hate rigid hierarchies. I may be the director, but have you seen the utter joy and relief on people’s faces once the craft services person comes around? There are sometimes thousands of people who work on one film or show and each person has their own creative, technical or logistical focus. Like a Jenga tower, you take one out and we’re all wobbly. 

I like to involve the people around me in the creative work as we are all there to make it the best it can be. I want to be a leader that is creative and decisive, one who is approachable and welcoming. I’m still learning a lot but this is the kind of leadership I have seen and want to replicate. My favourite directors (both men and women) who I have learned from are kind and confident without being arrogant. They are passionate and logical with a sincere dedication to the craft and story but also to making their workplace a welcoming space for everyone.

So what to make of this experience? Will my self doubt ever go? Unlikely, but perhaps it will ease with time and experience and exposure to these more democratic forms of leadership. This industry has a long way to go like any other, but inclusion and representation in key positions of leadership is vital in making real change. 

* Miles from Nowhere premieres on Sky Open on February 21 and Neon on February 22.