We’re not trying to make our lives difficult. Honestly.

But we’ve noticed that our best ideas — our strangest, most vivid, most memorable ideas — tend to come to us when the pressure is on, when the chips are down, when the clock is ticking and the alligator is in the furnace (to coin a phrase). We never would have made a film like “The Queen Bee of Mushroomtown” without the stringent restriction of a 24-hour time limit. The same is true for our Film Race follow-up, “Thirsty Work.” There’s something not only bracing, but liberating, about holding yourself to a tight deadline. And that’s just the kind of magic we’re hoping to replicate — albeit on a much larger scale — with the Four-Week Feature.

Why four weeks?

Obviously, there’s no set number of days that’s mysteriously perfect for making a “speed feature” — or if there is, we haven’t stumbled upon it yet.  Four weeks seemed about right to us — not cripplingly short, but certainly not indulgently long.  Time will tell if we’ve chosen the number correctly; in the meanwhile, we are cheered by the words of the great Leonard Bernstein, who said:

“To achieve great things, two things are needed: a plan, and not quite enough time.”

What exactly is a “feature film”?

Good question!  The exact meaning is evolving, and therefore debatable, but for our purposes a feature film is more than 80 minutes long (the Screen Actors Guild uses the same definition).  For reference, Casablanca is 102 minutes long; the Marx Brothers classic Duck Soup (often cited as one of the best comedies ever) is only 68.

How much are you allowing yourselves to prepare in advance?

The rules are these: no writing before August 1st, no shooting before August 1st, no composing music before August 1st.  We’re allowed to cast actors, scout possible locations, gather equipment, stock up on food and coffee, etc.  “Writing” includes any kind of commitment to a story idea.  In other words, Clint is allowed to say to Mike, “Hey, maybe the film could have a ninja.”  But if Mike were to say, “Yes, the film will have a ninja,” the God of Cinema would strike him dead immediately.

How are you keeping yourselves honest?

We are, by nature, scrupulously honest.  But to ensure that we don’t accidentally commit to any ideas ahead of time, we’ve instituted the Image Bank.  The way it will work is this: each member of our ten-person team will select one photograph ahead of time — anything he or she finds moving, evocative, or meaningful.  We’ll keep these images secret from each other until the stroke of midnight on August 1st, at which point they will be revealed to all, and will serve as the starting-point for our all-night brainstorming session.  How discernible an impact will the images have on the finished product?  It’s anybody’s guess!

Has this kind of thing been done before?

Certainly, people have made feature films in similar amounts of time, or even less.  But has anyone ever committed to a timetable like this ahead of time, just for the pure creative hell of it?  Not that we know of.

On the other hand, if it does turn out this has been done dozens or hundreds of times before, it wouldn’t change very much for us.  We’re not doing this for novelty’s sake; we honestly believe we can make a good movie this way.  Possibly a really good movie.  And we’re certainly going to have fun trying!