I went to two holiday parties last week and ran into two old friends. Both are married guys in their late thirties who’ve been slogging away in the LA industry trenches for about 15 years and have the kind of careers many moviemakers I know would envy: They’ve done what they love and they’ve always kept their families in groceries, if not dinners at The Ivy. The first guy, an indie producer, told me his wife tried for years to gently nudge him out of the business. These days, though, she’s finally on board. The difference? He’s no longer jousting at windmills, trying to get “Important Little Pictures” on to the big screen. He’s now got a staff position on a network television show—which means steady paychecks, an office to go to and a better car to get him there. Granted, it’s a “reality show” and the work isn’t exactly challenging, but he likes his colleagues, he likes the hours and he claims he really wouldn’t change a thing.

I wasn’t buying it. With probably a little too much sangria in me, I didn’t let him off the hook. Was he happy about this career development? Or was he just happy that his wife was happy? No, he assured me, he was thrilled, too. He reminded me that he’d had all that early success with his Important Little Picture that played the big festivals, got the great reviews and didn’t make him a nickel; he’d also had the decade plus of beating the bushes for dough. All he wanted now was to keep up the mortgage payments on his Santa Monica bungalow, go out to dinner once in a while and take the family to Hawaii every other year. And maybe, if he were really lucky, he could even take his kids out of public school. That’s all he asked, and if it was “a fucking reality show” that got him there, so be it.

As a family guy who’s jousted at windmills his whole life, I could appreciate what my buddy was saying. Sometimes you get tired, or your priorities change, or both things happen at once… Sometimes you have to make a choice, and the one you choose is to forget about the glory and just take the security that a life of independence rarely brings. I congratulated him on his new path.

The second guy, an indie writer-director and sometimes actor whom I’d also known for a long time, was equally excited about his career prospects for 2007. He’d been working on his own Important Little Picture, a documentary on a fascinating subject, for several months now and it was really coming together. He’d just landed a major recording artist to do the soundtrack and distributors were already sniffing around—and he wasn’t even done with his first cut! His wife, who’d been down similar roads with her mate before only to have them lead to dead financial ends, certainly seemed as if she couldn’t be happier.

Aside from making sure you marry the right partner, I’m not sure what the lessons are here for having a career in this business. What I do know is that it’s tough to feel independent and relevant at the same time, but those who keep at it have my eternal respect and admiration. This issue we profile several independent moviemakers at various stages of their careers who fit the bill.

The first is David Lynch, a visionary veteran of the game who continues to surprise and impress us with his material, but also with his refusal to bow to the pressures of the marketplace and the easy way out. A director with Lynch’s pedigree and longevity turning to self-distribution is astounding, but it’s also inspirational as hell.

Another is documentarian Peter von Puttkamer, who has carved out a terrific career for himself by doing things completely his way.The late,great Robert Altman and Adrienne Shelly were two others—independent heroes of mine who fit the same mold. Our cover girl, Cate Blanchett, is yet another moviemaker who’s reached the pinnacle of success by making choices that work brilliantly for her because they challenge her imagination. She believes in herself and knows that if she just does that, everything else will fall into place.

With this 2007 “Sundance” edition MovieMaker enters its 15th year of publication. While we’re proud of that longevity—and the fact that more readers turn to MM than any other independent film mag in the world—all it really means is that we continue to listen to you and be the voice of the truly independent auteur. That’s what keeps us relevant and serving the growing numbers who call themselves “moviemakers.” It’s thrilling for me to see so many people picking up cameras, writing scripts and making movies of their own. If you happen to be reading this and are turned on by this “garage band-to-mainstream” DIY moviemaking revolution going on all around us and want in, you can go out and start shooting, or you can first get educated at a good film school. This issue we have an amazing opportunity to tell you about: We’re sponsoring a full scholarship to my alma mater, the Vancouver Film School, for one lucky student. Entering this contest could truly change your life.

The choice is yours. It always is. Just be sure to make it one that you will always admire.

Hope you enjoy #67.