
Kelsey Ann Wacker and Nathan Simpson are the writers and stars of Stephanie Stevens — a film about an uncomfortable walk-and-talk between a suicidal comic and his now pregnant ex-girlfriend — that Wacker directed and Simpson edited. In this piece, they talk about using their own 666 approach — $6,000, six days and six people — to make the film, which is now on the festival circuit.—M.M.
Recently, we attended a film festival panel on low budget filmmaking. We absolutely love hearing filmmakers talk about the nuts and bolts. But it didn’t take me long to notice a pattern — the panelists were intentionally concealing their budgets. On a panel about low budget filmmaking. ‘
Also Read: Making a Film? MovieMaker Production Services Can Double Your Budget
Typically, it’s common practice to shroud your budget in mystery. If you reveal it, and it’s lower than expected, execs and distributors might think you’re an anti-union, lying, cheating, penny-pinching cheapskate. Or their previously positive reaction to your film could sour, dismissing your work as “amateur.”
On the other hand, if your budget is higher than expected, you’ll get a version of, “You spent x amount on that piece of s—?!” Either way, not so good.
But we like to buck convention, so we’re about to tell you how the sausage got made. We firmly believe that with a tight script, vision, resourcefulness, and a good crew, you can make interesting, quality films irrespective of budget. It is my hope above all else that Stephanie Stevens sparks a conversation about how films get made in today’s increasingly strange industry landscape. Indie film will save us.
Stephanie Stevens and the 666 Method

We didn’t have much time or money. We’re working artists, so money being short is self explanatory. Time was short because Kelsey Ann was awarded a screenwriting mentorship that would necessitate our family moving to Los Angeles in May. This was February. We were briefly living in Chicago, outside our regular network of friends and collaborators.
But to hell with it. We needed to make a movie. Here. Now. With what we had and who we knew. We were stuck in groundhog day on several other features in development. And we were sick of waiting on other people’s go-ahead.
So it was an experiment: shoot in six days. With six people. For $6,000.
We didn’t intend to make a tongue-in-cheek Luciferian reference. We just aimed to execute our vision for as little money as possible. Making a few executive decisions about what was worth shelling out for, we ended up with our $6,000 budget. Budget dictates time and personnel, so we kept our shoot days and crew petite.
Thus, following the tradition of the minimalist filmmaking movements Dogme 95, cinema vérité, Cassavetes, and mumblecore — Stephanie Stevens was born. A lo-fi, two-hander dark comedy built around uninterrupted thirty-minute sequences. An uncomfortable walk-and talk between a suicidal comic and his now pregnant ex-girlfriend along the shores of Lake Michigan in Chicago’s early spring.
$6K
We needed a cinema camera, lenses, memory, microphones, and editing software. We decided to purchase rather than rent, part of our new long-term vision as filmmakers who make stuff. Our strategy was simple — don’t buy top of the line, buy two steps down.
We shot our movie on a BlackMagic PocketCinema 6K G2. Th package cost about $3,200. The rest of our budget went to Costco crafty, rentals, a pregnancy belly (the film was shot in between Kelsey Ann’s real pregnancies), a composer, and our sound guy, Ronnie Blake. You always pay your sound guy. Our meals were donated from local restaurants because they were excited about the film.
Don’t let the budget snowball: We were dogmatic about this. Whenever a problem presents itself and the solution is money, take a breath. A creative solution will appear. Creativity thrives under constraints.
6 People
We assembled a crew of four talented collaborators eager to work on a feature film for no money (or next-to-no money, re: sound guy): Melaina Koulos (AD, producer), Jacob Waldrop (DP, camera), Ronnie Blake (sound), and William Premo (PA). And the two of us made six.
Please don’t lose friends over this! Asking people to lend their talents for free is no small favor. Cultivate an immaculate vibe on set, and take care of them always — for us that meant finishing early every day.
6 Days
The entire process demanded immediacy. In service of this, we embraced a vérité aesthetic and did not light a single shot. We captured our scenes in public and on-the-go without permits. Everyone in our film who doesn’t have lines is a real person going about their day. Long takes allowed us to focus on human behavior and avoid lengthy set-ups and break downs.
Shooting a feature in six days also meant we had to get it right the first time. We shot no more than two takes of anything; Indecision and lack of focus are death.
Embrace the Style
We got away with a 666 approach because we put story first and embraced the imperfections of the lo-fi style.
In an era of ultra-polish, we’re obsessed with reality creeping into artifice. On Stephanie Stevens, we gave our DP license to explore. The camera shakes. The moment you try to hide the nicks and chips that a micro-budget brings, the audience feels tricked. They are smarter than you. And we think there’s something alluring about this exposed aesthetic.
It’s easy to end up with a film that is technically beautiful and well-produced that inspires no feeling. Happens all the time. But audiences will forgive technical impurities if they’re invested in the story. And we think there’s a tendency among us to romanticize a first feature. There’s a buildup of pressure, a crescendo. Short films can be experimental, but a debut feature?
We reject that. If you have a story to tell, and you want to make a film, you can. Embrace limitations. Say yes to yourself.
You can follow the journey of Stephanie Stevens on the film’s Instagram.
Main image: Nathan Simpson and Kelsey Ann Wacker in Stephanie Stevens.