Daily Inspiration: Meet Allen Negrete

Today we’d like to introduce you to Allen Negrete.

Hi Allen, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
I would have to start with my early inclination to write these epic, immersive, world-building stories around 1st and 2nd grade. These childhood years I would also practice voices and invent up elaborate games to play with my cousins and friends. I can’t remember which interest came first, but I can say they always fed each other.

These games usually involved role playing of some sort, choosing specific character traits and backstory. Strewn about my bedroom dressers, I would actually keep detailed notes on what a certain friend or cousin liked to portray or track their character’s storyline the more times we played the game. As a kid, I was also a fan of the WWE and would do these create-a-wrestler exercises with finishing moves for everyone in case we all ended up at a birthday party with a bounce house or trampoline to fight each other on.

I was an only child for my first five years which meant having to entertain my bounce-off-the-walls self for a while (don’t worry – my sister, Allison, and I would later pretend fight too). I grew up all around San Luis Obispo County, but my childhood was Morro Bay. It was late 90’s/00’s and my parents could not care less how much I played outside. That detail about my curiosity with writing these epic adventure scripts I completely attribute with this big-world-out-there sense of freedom I had as a kid. I loved being outside. I would explore for hours and hours, go surprise knock on my friends’ windows to come play outside, wander into a restaurant if I saved a few bucks for a pizza slice or milkshake. I was, in a lot of ways, independent. In terms of keeping my imagination active that is.

A sense of structure derived from writing copious notes for those made-up games and characters – observing their behavior, adjusting story arcs and simultaneous collaboration I would have with my friends – is what I believe led me to become a film director. The exploring outside, and my small town feeling like it had no bounds, is what made writing so satisfying for me. I could superimpose this big imagination onto paper and didn’t worry what other people thought about it. Probably because I didn’t know any other kid writers so I was only doing it for my own expression. That too became fundamental in not limiting myself with a bunch of external validation filters that, of course, always handicap artists. I knew how good it felt like to go into the deep end without worrying if anyone was looking or without any remote reason to posture about it. And lastly, but just as importantly, the performative aspects – actually playing these made-up games alongside everyone, practicing voices out loud, people watching – that eventually aligned with me being an actor. To this day, they all still influence each other beautifully.

Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
Artistically, no. But I never associated myself with being an artist until I was about to graduate high school. Small town, and not having artists in my family, I didn’t even think to look for resources. I didn’t think to find acting classes, or an audition in the theatre. If a friend had an instrument, I might ask them to show me how to play part of a song but that’s probably the extent of it. Towards the end of high school, if anything, I thought I was going to go to the Arts Institute to become a chef. Now, I love food, I love cooking, and I will go out of my way for a good spot, but I quickly realized I didn’t want to associate the chaos of running a kitchen with enjoying food.

Naturally, I chose that level of chaos with movies instead.

Jumping back pre-high school, my parents moved us to the next town over and I couldn’t exactly invent these games up with friends like I used to. Suddenly, there was no proximity. School became a little more of a priority. I got into sports and then skateboarding where my creativity met this freshly developed athleticism. And there is something too perfect about being a trouble-making skateboarder (or at least everyone seemed to profile us that way) compounded with being a rebellious teenager. Now that I wasn’t benefitting from frequent family get-togethers anymore, my skating days throughout high school taught me a lot about community, how to nurture my own, and how judging others makes you miss out on profound connection. There was a bit of an outsider streak here that could have also contributed to my resilience with rejection. These days, that’s part of the job as an auditioning actor, but it’s also part of submitting projects to film festivals and fellowship programs. I wouldn’t say I ever truly felt rejection as a skateboarder, but in those days, it wasn’t “cool” yet and most people assumed you were addicted to drugs. Or were high-risk. And they were right. Just kidding. No, but I did have some friends that were expelled for being caught with drugs so that was, unfortunate.

Other than that, I think the hardest part has been having really close friends move away too many times. That can be hard when you need a little bit of encouragement with the day-to-day operation of building and reaching your dreams. Of course, the best relationships take work. I’m lucky enough to still have a few bonds that are worth keeping up with even if they are long distance.

Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
It starts with my absolute endless love for people. When I get to work with others, find what makes them click, who they are in the quiet moments, their vulnerabilities and doubts, what makes them feel most alive, and then make something together with that – it doesn’t get any better. It becomes a thrill. And with any luck, contagious to anyone else involved.

The very first movie I made was post-apocalyptic and motivated by YouTube’s very first and last international short film festival in 2011. I didn’t know anything about making movies. For some reason, this random announcement ignited me to find a camera and make something for it. Inevitably, I asked a cousin and her boyfriend at the time to be in it. I was familiar with handling a camera and editing because of the skateboarding videos I would make with friends, but I otherwise went in blindly. It quickly became a mini filmmaking boot camp. I missed the deadline by one day (went off local, not international time deadline) but that deadline gave me a ton of urgency to learn quickly, helped me work with my limitations, be resourceful, make these crazy VFX in After Effects, find or even create some of the musical score. I was becoming that chef that learns how to do everything in the kitchen. And like I said previously, developing this well-roundedness early on was fulfilling. It energized me.

In a different competition, I also won a full ride scholarship to a film school in Budapest. I made a few more short films after this, but quickly became consumed by neo-realists, surrealists, French new wave, Yasujirō Ozu, mumblecore, and all of these outside-of-Hollywood directors that were making more intentional, personal movies. Up until then, I didn’t know if I was going to stick with movies. They were fun to make for communal reasons but the cool, stylish, technical aspects of movie making never interested me. I get drained and upset with trends.

I ended up making another short film, “Pint Night”, mainly as an exercise to explore new themes, play with viewer expectations, discomfort, duality, and the dynamics of an ensemble. These curiosities didn’t really take shape until my first feature, but I let myself taste things and was scratching the surface for the first time here. As simple as this short was, it gave me a lot to look forward to and my excitement for the medium grew. Around this time I had also finally found an acting class. Only one year into it, I performed in the annual showcase and earned representation with Savage Agency. Reps I still have to this day. This alone motivated me to finally move out of my hometown and pursue this industry in a real way.

What was happening almost simultaneously is what I became most proud of. I wrote and directed my debut feature-length dramedy, This Side of Summer (Synopsis: After a botched prom night, Amy and Sierra, the social elites of their high school, endure the day-to-day mundanity of their final summer). I had already gained experience directing a few short films. I was writing these massively long stories since I was kid. I took myself to my own DIY film school and developed an affinity to the subtle, mercurial, demanding, and complex human experiences with the films I consumed. That instantly had a domino effect on everything else creative I did. And the industry validation (yes, there was some) of earning Hollywood reps as an actor so quickly all gave me the confidence to make my first feature. The pressure cooker behind this – because this time I didn’t necessarily have a deadline – was because leading up to making it, I felt like I was in love again. My first love was skateboarding. That ended because of my first and only big injury – torn ligaments in my right foot and ankle. Thankfully, movies are less physically risky. But I wasn’t sure if I was in love yet. There was a real heart break when I stopped skateboarding with what was aspirations to be “sponsored and travel the world”.

I guess I wanted to be 100% sure because I read a piece of feedback a professor wrote to one of his students that went something to the tune of “… nothing will happen in your life or career until you make a feature… a chance to build an audience and to make more movies. But it will take a feature to make it happen. No number of shorts will do it for you… a feature takes your heart and soul and life. But that’s why it matters.” And I guess in some sick way I wanted to take on that challenge. It lit me on fire. That’s all I needed to go for it and dive off the deep end. And then I did. Some friends thought I was in over my head. And told me why it wasn’t going to work, and I didn’t listen to any of that. When all was said and done, I made this feature film that I can die happy knowing I made it. That it is mine. And I immortalized a few things with it. And I can share it with my daughter when she grows up. I have a souvenir, a piece of my heart within that film.

Speaking of, I’m currently editing a short film starring my five year old daughter and me. And yeah, leave me alone, I made a short again. But I did it primarily as an attempt to preserve a memory. Not specific to any particular event, but specific to the time after I made my feature. I was a single dad during the covid years and regularly unemployed. I didn’t have much, but I had a healthy access to my emotions, and a sense of adventure that I could share with her every day. This isn’t a stepping stone project. If it makes some noise, that’s nice and all, but one day our dynamic will look different. This was just my own attempt at capturing this moment in time that we can cherish later on.

It’s deeply personal to put something out there in the world so you might as well love doing it for yourself first. Fill your cup. It’s not always easy, right away, to recognize what that is for everyone but it sure makes sharing it with others later easier. When I direct actors, edit a film, write, or act in someone else’s project, the only way it feels I’m actually of any use is if I drop the ego and external validations. With that out of the way, you just get to play. And for projects where I’m in charge, I have to set that tone and environment. You’re the engine, and the best way to get where you want to go is with trust, honesty, and saying “let’s try that” over and over again.

What does success mean to you?
When you have a deep appreciation of yourself. When validation comes from within first. When celebrating what makes up you and where you’re at in your life, at this moment, overlaps with finding and doing something that you love, and THAT overlaps with sharing this with the world in one way or another – despite people liking it or not – is success to me. That and nurturing a community even when it’s hard to be the glue. The vulnerability, courage, strength, resilience, and chaotic zest for your own existence that that takes is something we all owe to ourselves.

Have to shout out my acting coaches Jo Kelly & Brian Patacca for contributing their insights to this too.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://allennegretefilms.com
• Instagram: @allennegrete