Every Filmmaker Has Their Own Method

Every filmmaker has their own method. Some approach it as a scriptwriting task. Some take it as a literary task.

My approach is to have a certain draft of narration in script format—what they call a treatment. This is basically the intention of what a scene should be about. It's describing in general terms what is going to be said, or what could be said.

This often changes. Rarely does it stay exactly as you imagined prior to filming. The filming changes everything.

But it's important to have at least an intention when you go somewhere. Some kind of intention. Otherwise you can be overwhelmed and explore too many directions. It's also important visually—not just for the narration, but for the visual quality of the film itself.

The Process: From Treatment to Final Voiceover

Here's how I approach it:

Step 1: Write a Treatment

Write down a kind of treatment of the scenes of the film. Or, generally speaking, what you think the film will become. The general idea. The general intentions you have as a filmmaker. The film's direction.

Step 2: Go Film

Then you go and make the film. You shoot. You gather your material.

Step 3: Create the Assembly Cut

See the assembly cut. See the cut of the film. Experience it. Play with it.

When the material is running through your head—when you can see it even when you close your eyes—that's when you're ready for the next step.

Step 4: Peter-Altenberg-ing

You go to a café and you write. I call this "Peter-Altenberg-ing"—one of my key concepts, named after the Viennese writer who famously made cafés his writing studio.

Get yourself a nice cup of coffee. Take a notebook and a pen. Write down whatever comes to your mind. Think about the different scenes, about the different topics you have. Just write.

Don't edit yourself. Don't judge it. Just let it flow.

Step 5: Test Against the Cut

Then you go to the editing room. You imagine that narration with the cut you made. Examine it.

Does it work?

When I ask "does it work," I mean: does it feel natural? Inevitable? Like it was always there?

If so, great. Continue.

Step 6: Rewrite and Refine

Then you go again to write. You rewrite what didn't work. You write some more. You finish an outline of the narration.

Step 7: Read It with the Rough Cut

Read it all together with a rough cut.

Does it work? What needs changes? Do you need to change the editing? Do you need to film some more? Or do you need to change and adjust the narration?

Step 8: The Balancing Act

Then you create this kind of game. This ping-pong game. This balancing act between the material you have—the film material—and your narration.

You adjust one, then the other. Back and forth. Until they hold seamlessly together.

And then, you know, you have it.

The Gold-Digging Metaphor

This process can take some time, but it is like a process of digging for gold.

If you believe it's there, just continue until you find it. The perfect balance. Or the most coherent balance.

Then you have a film. You have narration. You have voiceover. And you have yourself an essay film.

Key Principles for Essay Film Voiceover

Start with intention, not with perfection.
A treatment gives you direction without locking you into rigid scripts. The material you shoot will change what you thought you wanted to say.

Let the footage inform the voice.
Don't write narration before you see your assembly cut. The images have their own logic. Listen to them first.

Peter-Altenberg in cafés.
There's something about removing yourself from the editing suite, taking a notebook and a pen, and writing longhand in a café that unlocks a different kind of thinking. Less technical. More literary. More interior. Peter Altenberg, the Viennese writer, understood this—the café as writing studio, as thinking space, as the place where interior voice finds its rhythm.

Test constantly.
Voiceover for essay film isn't about writing beautiful prose and then laying it over images. It's about finding the inevitable marriage between voice and image. That takes testing, adjusting, testing again.

Embrace the ping-pong.
The best essay film voiceover emerges from the back-and-forth between what you filmed and what you write. Change the narration, then change the edit. Change the edit, then change the narration. This isn't indecision—it's refinement.

Trust the process.
It takes time. It takes patience. But if you believe the gold is there, you'll find it. The moment when voice and image feel like they were always meant to be together—that's what you're digging for.

The Difference Between Voiceover and Narration

In essay films, voiceover isn't just narration in the traditional sense. It's not explaining what you see. It's not providing information the image can't convey.

It's a voice that exists in dialogue with the image. Sometimes in harmony. Sometimes in tension. Sometimes filling gaps. Sometimes creating new gaps.

The essay film voiceover is personal, subjective, often literary. It can be poetic. It can be philosophical. It can be observational. But it's always coming from a singular consciousness—the filmmaker's—speaking directly to the viewer.

That's the intimacy of it. That's the power of it.

Final Thought

Writing voiceover for an essay film isn't a technical skill you can master through formulas. It's a practice. A discipline of listening—to your footage, to your thoughts, to the rhythm of the relationship between voice and image.

Go to the café. Write. Come back to the editing room. Test. Rewrite. Test again.

And keep digging until you find it.