It’s hard to believe that the last edition of this newsletter was only six months ago. After eight weddings, four film festivals, and one bout of COVID, I know I’m not alone in experiencing some exhaustion and overwhelm after this frenetic year. I can only hope that you all, on the other side of this, are getting the holiday you deserve.

Earlier this year, I mentioned a fiction film I was editing with my longtime friend and collaborator Daniel Goldhaber; that film, How to Blow Up a Pipeline, premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in September and was picked up by NEON (the distributor behind Triangle of Sadness and Parasite). The film’s name comes from the book from which it’s loosely—extremely loosely!—adapted: Andreas Malm’s controversial text urges environmentalists to consider sabotage as a legitimate tactic in the fight against climate change and, despite the title, is more about why than how to attack fossil fuel infrastructure. The film, on the other hand, envisions a possible how, dramatizing the book’s ideas through a heist movie about a group of eight young radicals who carry out a daring operation to…well, you can imagine.

The film has enjoyed a positive critical response during its festival run, though it has also had some vocal detractors: a shouting match among audience members broke out at the Mar del Plata film festival, and conspiracy theories began to emerge on Twitter within days of the TIFF premiere. On Letterboxd, the online sweaty locker room of the cinephile community, one user called it a “pretty admirable student film;” another, “cowardly.” For a film like this, I suppose the disagreement is a kind of success? Ask me about my blood pressure again if right-wing media start to take notice when the film opens theatrically in the new year.

Professionally, the film marks a minor milestone, my first union project: I’m now a member of the Motion Picture Editors Guild. It’s great in principle, but much to my dismay as I make my way back into the land of nonfiction, there aren’t collective bargaining agreements governing documentary production. Not yet, anyway. Looking at you, fellow nonfiction editors…

Creatively, this film was a reminder of what a gift it is to be creatively in sync with your teammates, trusted by producers, and energized by the material. Sharing the ”film by” credit with the screenwriters—Ariela Barer, Jordan Sjol, and Daniel Goldhaber—is a rarity for an editor and an honor that I don’t take for granted. This edit would also have been a much more difficult task without our brilliant assistant editor Emily Yue, who I’m lucky to have roped into my next project as well.

Sarah Adina Smith’s devilishly cringe-inducing baby-dropping* ensemble comedy, which I edited with her last year, is coming to Hulu on January 13. You can check out the trailer here. How will you fill the White Lotus-shaped void in your soul if not with this tale of marital trouble in tropical paradise?

(* no babies were harmed in the making of this film)

Every November, DOC NYC publishes their documentary-focused riff on the Forbes “30 Under 30” list, the slightly more forgiving, nerdier “40 Under 40.” I was included on the list, alongside a bunch of people I really admire. I was also selected for the Berlinale Talents program, a six-day conference in Berlin that will welcome filmmakers from 125 countries. This February, I’ll be one of 12 editors in attendance. Currently seeking Berlin recommendations, if you have any.

In sadder news, my maternal grandfather died last month at the age of 93. Although he had largely retreated from family life in his final years, he was a constant and jolly presence during my childhood in California. His childhood was marred by WWII, when he was incarcerated alongside over 13,000 fellow Japanese-Americans at the Gila River concentration camp in Arizona. If anything, that experience made him more determined to prove his loyalty to the US: he enlisted in the Air Force and fought in Vietnam, where he was once shot down behind enemy lines and escaped without a scratch. He loved flying. As recently as five years ago, he still hoped to get into a cockpit once more, and it took his doctor’s orders to convince him to give it up.

I’m editing a new feature documentary about direct-to-consumer sperm donors who operate outside of banks and clinics, meeting recipients directly over the internet. It's a joy to work once more with my friend Lance Oppenheim, whose debut feature Some Kind of Heaven I edited a few years ago. We’re still early in the process of shaping the story, which can be as terrifying as it is exhilarating. Meanwhile, I’ve been quietly, slowly chipping away at a couple of scripts when I can motivate myself to wake up at hours that are taboo in my part of Brooklyn.

Alex Morelli has also kept me around as his somewhat bumbling producer on his documentary feature. The work in progress helped him secure a spot on this year’s 25 New Faces of Independent Film list—congrats, Alex!—and I hope we can share a finished version of the film with the world before long. If you know any patrons of the arts who are also committed death penalty abolitionists, uh, no pressure or anything, but maybe let me know?

Many thanks for reading this far, and I hope you'll drop me a line with your own reactions and updates, if you're still awake at this point. Wishing you happiness and good health in 2023.

Daniel