How Filmable Made Networking Feel Human Again

When I came to Vancouver as a young girl, the word networking was foreign to me. My parents always said, “Work as hard as you can and you'll get everything you want.” I think they set me up for failure, because that’s not how the real world works, at least not in film. 

The industry is rewarding once you get your big break, but getting there takes years, money, and the right people. Who you surround yourself with matters. To engage with the film community, you have to talk with others who have similar goals. You never know what someone can offer you from a good conversation and a big smile. That’s not to discredit hard work, but networking is like handing people a résumé and hoping they like your vibe enough to collaborate, hire, or mentor you.

This ritual got exhausting, and I became desensitized to who was genuine and who just wanted something. I attended a Filmable event in late 2023, and it changed my perspective. It was a talk led by a few producers offering genuinely interesting, practical advice. I wasn’t even interested in production, but something about what they said clicked.

 It felt like a one-hour crash course on something film school hadn’t taught me. I didn’t know anyone there and was intimidated by everyone’s probably amazing creative histories. I expected rejection, to be reminded I wasn’t worth networking with because I thought I had no substance. But after a few talks, a few drinks, and some real conversations, I realized networking doesn’t have to be the personality-draining, labour-intensive, narcissistic fest I always knew it to be. Meeting people who love movies and storytelling the way you do makes you forget you’re there to advertise yourself.

Film is tough and scary. Indie films are hard and expensive to make, but the process becomes easier when you have support from people who share your vision. We talked about everything—from travel and how it shapes identity to how staying close to your roots can be just as valuable. I’d never met such a diverse group of people with distinct tastes in every part of filmmaking. I met an Australian-Vietnamese documentarian who worked in Dubai (where I grew up), moved to Toronto for shorts, and was now in Vancouver making features. Many were restarting their careers entirely, but they found a way to do it here. When people asked about my experience, I hesitated to mention I was a recent film school grad, but they listened and found my path from animation to film interesting. Even as an introvert, I felt like I could make long-lasting friends here, not just for my career but for life. I left that night with a confidence I’d never known. I was a nobody filmmaker walking out feeling like I could do anything. I needed more.

I started volunteering at every Filmable event I could. Each one felt like the first: fresh faces, fresh perspectives, and renewed faith in my ability to chase this fragile career. It didn’t matter if I was directly involved in filmmaking; the connections alone were enough. Filmable describes itself as “a place you’ve been looking for to hype, gripe, think, drink and talk about film in BC.” In short, they were built to break down the silos of the local film industry, to get people together without pressure, to teach and connect so that independent filmmakers don’t feel isolated. What makes this compelling is that it flips the script on networking—it doesn’t feel transactional, hollow, or self-promotional. It feels like you’re surrounded by people who know what it’s like to make something from nothing, and that shared experience becomes both comfort and fuel.

Indie film in Vancouver—and Canada in general is tricky. Budgets are small, funding is limited, and gatekeeping is real. A community like Filmable helps by creating access points that don’t feel forced. Their events aren’t just meet-and-greets; they feature panels, workshops, and practical discussions. One of their “Clubhouse” events had the topic “How to not fix it in post – When to work with a post team to set yourself up for success.” That’s the kind of tangible advice you rarely get for free. The storytelling side meets the craft side, the social side meets the learning side.

One event I always look forward to is Filmable’s collaboration with VIFF, where they host an annual after-party for the creatives involved. Each year feels better than the last. As a writer, I wanted to understand why. I mingled around for hours, forgetting that I was supposed to be recording these answers, lost in the chatter. Weirdly, I still remember most of them.

One filmmaker told me,

“Everyone here actually cares. It's full of people and their stories. You can feel that.”

Another first-time director at VIFF said,

“You can walk up to anyone here, say you’re making a film about a guy who turns into a lamppost, and instead of laughing, they’ll ask, ‘Okay, what’s the tone?’”

I encountered several post-grad students who told me

“This community feels like film school without the student debt.”

One veteran filmmaker added

“There’s this sense that everyone’s rooting for each other. Like if one of us makes it, we all kind of do.”

Another attendee, newly relocated to Vancouver and restarting their career, told me:

“You don’t have to explain yourself here. Everyone already gets the chaos of making something from nothing.”

By aligning with VIFF which had always been a major film event that screens hundreds of films from around the world—Filmable creates a unique entry point: you’re part of the big festival, but also part of a smaller, more intimate community within it. It’s the giant wave plus the snug boat beside it, and that balance is rare.

Indie film matters because it carries risk, weirdness, and personal voice that big studios often can’t. It reminds us why we tell stories in the first place. My own path has often felt fragmented, but through Filmable, I saw others making things work in their own way. Many were restarting their careers and finding a place to do it just how they wanted.

Finally, I think the last statement is an accumulation of what indie film communities in Vancouver were always meant to be,

“I keep coming back because it reminds me why I started making stuff in the first place—that spark you lose when everything gets too professional.”

That spark is what indie film is all about. Projects might fall through because of funding or timing, but in a community that welcomes the lamppost-guy, the weird script, the outsider voice. You keep going.

In Vancouver, where the narrative often paints the city as a “service town” for big-budget Hollywood productions, a community like this is vital. Filmable gives space to the smaller voices, the first films, the strange truths. It makes you feel like there’s room for your story too.

When you walk into a Filmable event, you’re not just handed a drink ticket or a business card to scurry off and get a job—you’re handed permission to belong, ask questions, to fail, to try. Because in film, failure is often the unspoken part, and normalizing it means you keep going. Filmable feels like a cultural shift in the local indie scene. If you’re in Vancouver and you make films (or want to), or you just love storytelling and feel isolated doing it, go to a Filmable event. Say hello. Ask someone about their lamppost film. Listen. Share. Stay. Because maybe this is the community you’ve been waiting for. And maybe the right people by your side are more important than you realized.