4 Stages of Every Movie Production

Introduction

There was a very real chance we’d have to cancel the entire adventure. We were soaked to the bone, and the rain in Chamonix was relentless, coming down in torrents just two days before our most ambitious adventure and film project to date. This was The Optimistic Traveler’s next big thing, a culmination of a lifetime of preparation. Muammer and I had worked hard—he trained his mind, body, and spirit while I spent months on logistics, physical training, and coordination.

We arrived in Chamonix only to find that the iconic marathon had been canceled due to terrible weather, and even during other competitions, the legendary Mont Blanc loop had claimed several injured participants. During our location scouting around Le Brévent, we had no visibility. Heavy, thick fog surrounded us, reducing the stunning scenery to just a few meters ahead. In those moments, doubt crept into our minds and settled deep in our stomachs. Could Muammer really fast, hike, and endure this weather for long? Would this epic opening scene, meant to showcase the breathtaking majesty of Mont Blanc, be lost in a sea of gray nothingness?

Sitting in a cozy mountain hut, listening to the rain batter the roof, we questioned:

Will we be able to make it?

Let’s rewind a little.

This blog post offers a deep dive behind the scenes of the creation of our latest documentary, the fourth adventure project by The Optimistic Traveler. It’s for anyone curious about how a big idea comes to life, broken down into thousands of tiny steps over a long period of time. I’ll walk you through the four classic phases of filmmaking—pre-production, production, post-production, and distribution. Each phase, whether for a one-day shoot or a world tour, is a journey. Along the way, you’ll discover the critical importance of teamwork, purpose, and the in-between moments that shape the entire project.

Stage One: Pre-Production – The Seed of an Idea

Most of our film ideas come from the vibrant tapestry of our lives: encounters with inspiring people, books, music, festivals, and the stories we exchange with others. These ideas are built on our values, beliefs, and how we see the world—or perhaps how we’d like to see it. Everything begins with a question: What if? Is it possible?

The seed for The Mountain Teaching was planted years ago. Muammer, ever the curious adventurer, started water fasting about 10 years ago, making it an annual practice. The first time I witnessed the power of fasting was during our I Have a Dream, Africa journey. For 80 days, it was always me who cried out, “Bro, I’m so hungry! Let’s find food!” while Muammer seemed to defy the laws of energy, his vitality unaffected by food intake. It was like magic. Inspired by him, I attempted my own water fast for the first time—right under my father’s roof, who happens to be one of the best cooks I know. Imagine me, sipping water for seven days, while he whipped up culinary feasts around me. Tough? Absolutely. But it taught me to appreciate food on a whole new level.

After that, I became vegetarian and threw myself into cooking healthy vegan meals, both in my cozy Berlin apartment and on the road. Over the years, Muammer and I dove deeper into practices like yoga, meditation, Wim Hof’s cold therapy, and minimalism.

From long hikes with no luggage to trail-running in sandals, I felt a profound connection to nature as I crossed the magnificent mountain ranges of Corsica, the Pyrenees, and the Atlas Mountains in Morocco.

There was one night in the mountains, early on, when I was still adjusting to this life of minimalism and nature’s unpredictable mood swings. I was wrapped in my sleeping bag, half-asleep, when a pack of wild boars came sniffing around my camp. They licked my face. I struggled to unzip my bag, my heart racing, thinking, What was that noise? Am I in danger? Yet over time, I learned to trust the mountains, and the animals became my silent companions. Well, almost... I’m not that zen yet.

This brings me to one of the key ingredients of a great film project:

Learn through small projects before tackling something bigger.

My experiences weren’t instantly turned into films—they were personal explorations, foundations for something larger. Slowly, I began to feel at home in the mountains, mastering the art of fire-making, bivouac sites, and GPS navigation.

By 2022, I had deepened my fasting practice, joining a week-long retreat with Clairière & Canopée, founded by my dear friend and mountain mentor, Guillaume Charron. It was a life-changing week of daily yoga, long hikes, workshops, massages, and saunas. I’ve rarely felt so relaxed. Here, in this silence and space, the puzzle pieces of our project began to fall into place.

What if, I thought, Muammer undertakes the Tour du Mont Blanc while fasting, but with a twist? Along the way, he would meet the mentors who had shaped our lives—those who taught us about fasting, yoga, minimalism, cold therapy, and more. It wasn’t just a film about fasting anymore; it was about reconnecting with the wisdom we’d gathered over the years.

Stage Two: Production – Walking the Talk

After that, things moved fast. I presented the idea to Muammer over tea in Strasbourg. As always, he was immediately up for the challenge, even though we were short on time. Spring was already here, and we wanted to do the hike in early summer. The fast track began: I reached out to all our mentors, mountain refuges, and coordinated the entire hike. One by one, the puzzle pieces came together, though not without a few hiccups. Some mountain huts were fully booked, but after explaining our project, they made space for us. Every piece of the puzzle had to fit; one cancellation could derail the entire mission.

Muammer, as usual, began preparing with daily runs and a healthy diet, all while exploring The Lycian Way with his mother, fulfilling his promise to take her on a big journey each year after their father passed away. I admire that deeply about him.

I arrived in Strasbourg early summer, fresh off a bike ride from Berlin, and brimming with anticipation. Muammer greeted me, glowing with vitality. The next step was Chamonix, and the weather was not on our side. We spent the last few days before the adventure scouting locations, a storm always on our heels.

What made this journey unique was the clear division of roles—Muammer would be in front of the camera, and I would tell the story behind it. For the first time, I wasn’t part of the action, but behind the scenes, a role that felt more natural to me (though I’m still a bit camera-shy). My preparation was technical: I carried two professional cameras, a drone, microphones, tripods, and enough gear to shoot an entire production studio, all in my 30-liter backpack.

On the first day, it felt like a miracle. The weather cleared, the majestic view of Mont Blanc unfolded before us, and there we were, standing at an iconic rock formation on Le Brévent, with Muammer ready to take on the challenge. But as with any great journey, difficulties followed quickly. By Day 7, the toughest moment arrived—no water, steep terrain, and Muammer’s body rebelling against the fast. He had lost significant weight, and his strong mind was shaking. Would we abandon the mission?

Feel free to explore our trailer and film.

click here

The Days After the Adventure: A Magical Pause

I’ll always remember his deep smile, his eyes glancing with that quiet sense of accomplishment as he tasted his first spoonful of soup. There’s something profound about the moment when a big quest like this comes to an end—a magical state of being. It’s a feeling that goes beyond words: a deep sense of satisfaction, almost disbelief at how on earth everything seemed to fall into place, and a renewed belief in the miracle of life itself. But it’s also bittersweet, tinged with nostalgia, as you realize the adventure is over.

For the next few days, Muammer barely left the bed. His body, exhausted from fasting and pushing its limits, demanded rest. I even had to close the windows for him—he couldn’t bear to look at the mountains anymore. Those peaks that had been both our allies and our adversaries now felt like a distant dream. Our days took on a peaceful rhythm, marked by long stretches of sleep and bowls of healthy soups. It was a time of quiet recovery, where even the simplest moments felt deeply meaningful.

In those moments, we didn’t speak much. There was no need. A shared look, a laugh over something trivial, or a simple nod was enough. We’d been through something extraordinary together, and now, in the stillness, we were letting it all sink in. Our friend Vincent Delair joined us during those recovery days. He’s a young Frenchman with an appeal that could rival a young Brad Pitt—full of charm, with that unmistakable sparkle of adventure in his eyes. The year before, we had crossed the 900 kilometers of the Pyrenees together, and now, he showed up in Chamonix, proud as ever of his ultra-minimalist style and his new hiking sandals. He was always pushing the limits of simplicity, and I loved that about him.

One of the highlights of those restful days was our trip to the spa in Chamonix. After so many days of hardship in the mountains, it felt like pure luxury. We spent the entire day soaking in the saunas, letting the warmth seep into our bones. There was even a sauna with a cinema inside—something we absolutely loved. It was the perfect contrast to the raw intensity of the hike, and in those steamy rooms, surrounded by silence, we allowed ourselves to fully unwind.

Back to Strasbourg – The Start of Post-Production

After those days of recovery, it was time to return to Strasbourg, and with that, enter the next phase of the project: post-production. The moment we arrived, Muammer’s girlfriend, Kim, greeted us at the door of their sweet home in the city center. She was a bit shocked at how much weight Muammer had lost—his face thinner, his body visibly worn from the journey. They took their time to reunite, sharing quiet moments that spoke of love and relief after being apart.

While they caught up, I dove straight into work. First things first: backing up all the footage. I couldn’t rest until every bit of the project was safely stored and organized. As the files imported into the editing software, I started structuring the film, breaking down each scene, reviewing every shot we had taken. My immediate goal was to create a crowdfunding trailer for the documentary—a first glimpse into the story we had just lived through.

Seeing the images again was an emotional rollercoaster. Each frame brought back memories of the struggle, the beauty, and the sheer force of will it had taken to complete the hike. Editing a crowdfunding trailer isn’t just about piecing together beautiful shots; it’s about capturing the heart of the journey in a way that speaks to people, that makes them want to be part of it. For small production studios like ours, crowdfunding is essential. It’s how we raise funds for post-production and marketing. But it’s also more than that—it’s our first step in sharing the documentary with the world, giving people a reason to care about the story before it’s even finished. So, we crossed our fingers and hoped to attract enough backers and partners to help us bring the project to life. Link: https://www.helloasso.com/associations/optimistic-traveler/collectes/production-de-film-documentaire

The Most Active Summer of My Life

Even though the crowdfunding campaign was underway, there was no way I was going to spend the entire summer stuck inside editing. I love the seasons in Europe, and summer, in particular, feels like a call to explore and move. Each season brings out different colors within you, and summer, for me, is all about adventure.

Muammer, still recovering from the hike, joined me for the first week of our Cinema Bike Tour. It was a 2,500-kilometer journey by bike, with a mobile cinema packed into my bike bags—complete with a professional screen, projector, and speakers. Our mission? To make projections of our last film, Compostela Without Luggage, in pilgrimage hotels along the way. It was an incredible experience, pedaling through the sunlit landscapes, sharing our film with audiences in such intimate settings.

After that, I rejoined Vincent for another adventure: crossing the Alps, ultraminimalist and trail-running style, from Nice to Lake Geneva. It was pure freedom. The mountains felt like home, and every step deepened my connection to nature. It was during this hike that another film concept was born. I’ve always believed that one of the best ways to save for retirement is to live the life of your dreams right now. You save days, weeks, even years of your best life—experiences that will make your future self smile with no regrets. That’s my theory, at least. Ask me later if it’s true.

The Year of Conferences and Cinema Projections

This summer wasn’t just about adventures, though. It was also a record-breaking year for The Optimistic Traveler. In 2022, we reached a high of 150 cinema conferences. That’s almost one every other day! In late autumn, Muammer and I left for Canada—Montreal, to be precise—where we were present for 50 projections of I Have a Dream, Africa in partnership with Exploration du Monde. The audiences in Quebec were so welcoming, full of curiosity and humor. We loved it.

From there, we headed straight to Belgium for another 60 projections of Compostela Without Luggage. It was a whirlwind. Rarely did I sleep more than two or three consecutive nights in the same bed. By the time the year came to a close, I was ready for rest. Deep, uninterrupted rest.

Stage Four: Post-Production – The Heart of the Grind

Full of joy, I arrived at La Maison Verte, tucked away in the mountain range of Le 3 Bec, in the Drôme region—my absolute favorite place in France. It’s more than just the stunning landscapes and charming local markets that have drawn me back year after year. It’s the sense of history here, with my grandfather having walked these same mountains with my father, and the deep-rooted connections I’ve made with friends who feel more like family. People like Nans Thomassey, who’ve built a community of adventurous souls that has become my home away from home.

Each time I come back, it feels like I’m the traveling vagabond brother, arriving with new stories, ideas, and, of course, a backpack full of dreams to share. I settled into my room—nothing fancy, just the essentials: a bed, my juggling balls, a simple table, and a yoga mat. Very minimalist, very me. On the floor next to my MacBook lay a single sheet of paper with the words “Deep Work – The 3 Most Essential Key Moves of the Day” scrawled across the top. Ambitious, right? But as I stared at the empty space around me, the weight of what I needed to do hit me: I was about to edit an 80-minute movie almost entirely on my own. Cue a mild panic.

How do you even begin something like that? Every documentary we’d done before had been a team effort—writing, editing, brainstorming, all of it shared. This time, it was just me, my MacBook, and a deadline that was creeping closer with every tick of the clock. And so, in typical Milan fashion, I decided to impose a daily routine that mirrored the discipline of The Mountain Teaching. I wanted to keep the spirit of the adventure alive in my process. And, well, our working title back then—Mont Blanc Without Eating—wasn’t exactly inspiring, but you’ve got to start somewhere, right?

My daily routine looked something like this: wake up at 6:30 a.m. (not always easy), drink lukewarm water and green tea, do 30 minutes of yoga, make a fire with Nans, head out for a 40-minute walk, take a cold bath in our local natural pool (yes, I voluntarily subjected myself to freezing water), and then finally start editing around midday, fasting until then. It was intense, but it worked. At least until the pressure started piling on.

We had already booked the premiere at the biggest cinema in Strasbourg for January 25th, with all of our families invited, no less. No pressure, right? On top of that, Muammer and Kim were planning to leave the next day for their own adventure, and I had my sights set on one of my biggest childhood dreams: crossing all of Latin America with my mobile film studio for a year. Looking back, the deadline was probably the best thing that could have happened. It kept me laser-focused. I had 55 days to pull this off, and each day, I chipped away at it, character by character, frame by frame.

There were moments when the weight of it all caught up with me. During my daily walks, I’d often find myself tearing up, thinking about my 97-year-old grandmother, Helga. She wasn’t doing well, and I knew deep down that this might be the last time she’d see one of my films at a premiere. The thought of her not being there pushed me, but it also broke me a little. Those walks became a time for me to process everything—the film, my emotions, the reality of time slipping by.

Thankfully, I wasn’t alone. Nans and I had our “Vision Chair Sessions” a few times a week. I’d show him sequences, and he’d give me feedback in our 25-minute sessions. Nans, having made 45 films already, including Et Je Choisis de Vivre (And I Choose to Live), was my compass during this process. He helped me define the roles of each character, giving structure to what often felt like chaos. There’s a particular joy in having a partner like that—someone who’s with you on the battlefield of editing, where every decision feels like a monumental one. Do we cut this scene? Do we keep it? When you’re buried deep in a project, those decisions can feel paralyzing, but with Nans by my side, it became a shared mission.

Of course, it wasn’t just Nans. I had an amazing circle of close friends in the film industry who were willing to watch the first versions and offer feedback. Their input was so valuable—it’s easy to lose perspective when you’ve been staring at the same footage for weeks on end.

And then, December 23rd arrived—my birthday. I was alone at La Maison Verte, my flatmates had gone to spend the holidays with their families, and I was still editing. But just as I was starting to feel a bit isolated, a gift arrived in my inbox. After weeks of brainstorming titles, our distribution partner, the marketing agency Novembre from Strasbourg, had finally sent over the perfect one: Le Grand Jeûne. In French, it’s beautiful, with a double meaning: The Big Fast (as in an extended period without food) and The Big Young (a person who is both wise and young at heart). I couldn’t have been happier with it. Unfortunately, it didn’t quite translate into English with the same elegance, but the French title felt right—it had depth, layers, and a certain poetry to it.

The Final Sprint of Post-Production – Colmar

And then came the final sprint. January 15th rolled around, and we had just 8 days until the premiere. To say we were feeling the heat would be an understatement. Muammer and I were in an absolute frenzy, surviving on about three hours of sleep a night. I even found myself sitting at the hairdresser’s with him, watching as his long black hair fell to the floor. He’d agreed to my vision for a sequence that showed the young Muammer—a filmmaker and businessman in elegant clothes. It was fun, in a surreal kind of way, still shooting these sequences around Alsace just days before the premiere.

But the pressure was real. With our crowdfunding campaign, we only managed to raise about €10,000—enough to keep us going, but not enough to hire a professional team for the audio mix and color correction. So, guess who took that on? Yup, me. Long nights of tinkering with sound and color, trying to get everything just right. It was grueling, but there’s something satisfying about knowing you’ve done it all, even the toughest parts.

Meanwhile, Muammer, master of communication and event organization, worked his magic. Since I met him in 2010, I’ve always admired how effortlessly he can sell an idea, create excitement, and get people on board. And somehow, he managed to sell out the 600-seat cinema for the premiere—even without a movie trailer. That’s talent.

Stage Four: Distribution – Sharing the Journey

The night of the premiere felt like a tightrope walk, but with popcorn. Outside the packed 600-seat cinema in Strasbourg, Muammer and I stood in disbelief. We’d actually pulled this off. After scrambling to finish the film just days before, we now waited to see if the audience would connect with our story.

As the lights dimmed, I couldn’t focus on the screen. I kept glancing at the audience, wondering, Are they with us? Then I saw my grandmother, smiling up at the screen, and I knew it would be okay. As the credits rolled, the theater exploded with applause—a 10-minute standing ovation. Muammer leaned over and whispered, “We did it, bro.” It was a moment I’ll never forget.

The very next morning, while I was still soaking in the afterglow, Muammer packed up for his next adventure with Kim: a “love tour” around the world with no luggage (classic Muammer) for year. Meanwhile, I stayed in Europe, finishing trailers and the English, Spanish, turkish version. After that I took a long break and just did nothing. It was finally time to bring one of my biggest childhood dreams to life—to cross all of Latin America, creating audiovisual art alongside people who inspire me every step of the way.

Conclusion

As I sit here, reflecting on the rollercoaster of emotions and challenges we faced, I’m reminded of the essence of filmmaking—it’s a journey, just like life. Each phase we went through was more than just a step in the process; it was a test of our resilience, creativity, and connection to purpose.

Pre-production is where the dream is born. It’s the moment where an idea—wild, crazy, and ambitious—first takes root. It’s in the planning, the logistics, and the quiet moments of inspiration that the foundation is laid. But the heart of it is asking those daring questions: What if?

Production is where the magic happens, but also where the toughest challenges rear their heads. It’s a grind, full of unexpected twists—weather, exhaustion, and the limits of your own body and mind. But this is where stories are made, where you prove to yourself that what once seemed impossible is now unfolding before your eyes.

Post-production is where the puzzle comes together. It’s late nights, hard decisions, and sometimes even tears. It’s about seeing the bigger picture, understanding the heart of the story, and making the cuts that hurt but ultimately strengthen the film. It’s about revisiting every moment and making it sing.

Distribution is the moment of sharing. The moment where all the sweat, sleepless nights, and doubts fall away. You stand before an audience, vulnerable, watching as your story becomes theirs. And that’s the beauty of it—this is where the connection between creator and viewer is made, where your film takes on a life of its own.

Through every stage, one thing remains constant—this journey isn’t just about filmmaking; it’s about personal growth, about pushing limits, and about realizing that every adventure, no matter how big or small, begins with a single step.

So, whether you’re dreaming up your next project, pushing through a tough challenge, or sharing your story with the world, remember: every great adventure follows these four stages. Embrace the process, trust in the journey, and keep daring to ask:

What if?

After all, it's only impossible until you do it.

We’re excited to welcome you to our film tour across France from November to February, with nearly 100 cinema conferences in partnership with Altair Distribution. Come join us on this adventure!

https://www.altairconferences.com/SAISON-2022-2023.php

Behind the Scenes – The Mountain Teaching