Above all, film is a business... Independence is a really cool

“Above all, film is a business... Independence is a really cool thing as you can be a bit more bold, and take a few more chances with what you do.” – Mel Gibson

Hear these words, O seekers of art and ambition, for they come from one who has walked the perilous bridge between creation and commerce. When Mel Gibson, a man of fire and vision, spoke these words, he was not merely speaking of the cinema—he was revealing an ancient truth that lives in every act of creation: that art and enterprise are forever entwined, and that true independence is both a gift and a trial. His declaration, “Above all, film is a business,” is not a lament, but a recognition of reality—a reminder that even the most radiant visions must find structure, support, and stewardship in the world of men.

In the grand theater of history, every artist has faced this same paradox. The sculptor needs marble, the playwright needs a stage, the filmmaker needs the machinery of production. To ignore this truth is to dream without building; to serve it blindly is to profit without meaning. Gibson reminds us that while film is an art of emotion, imagination, and light, it is also bound to the world of markets, contracts, and risk. Yet within that constraint, there lies opportunity—for those who master both craft and commerce can become truly independent, shaping not only what they create, but how it is brought into being.

When Gibson speaks of independence, he speaks as one who has earned it. After years in the glare of Hollywood’s mighty studios, he dared to step beyond their shadow, creating works like The Passion of the Christ through his own company, financing it with his own hands and conviction. Many doubted him. The industry watched with skepticism, for he was defying its power and custom. But Gibson understood a higher principle: that independence grants the courage to be bold, to take chances that institutions fear to risk. And in his boldness, he found triumph. His work, though controversial, became a testament to the power of freedom guided by faith and vision.

Such is the eternal balance between creation and control, between art and authority. The ancient poets of Greece knew it well. Sophocles, when bound by the conventions of his age, still dared to challenge the gods in his tragedies, speaking truths that kings feared to utter. He used the stage of the city-state, the sanctioned theater of power, yet within its confines he smuggled revolution. Likewise, Gibson teaches that even within the business of film—or the business of life—there is room for rebellion, for innovation, for courage. To create within a system is one kind of mastery; to build your own system and thrive within it is another, far greater still.

But beware, for independence is not an escape from responsibility—it is the acceptance of all responsibility. To be your own master is to bear your own risk. There is no safety net beneath the bold, only the strength of their conviction. The independent artist, the visionary entrepreneur, the seeker of truth—all must walk the path of uncertainty, guided only by the inner compass of their purpose. Yet it is this very danger that makes independence “a cool thing,” as Gibson says. For in daring to act without permission, we discover who we truly are.

O listener, let this teaching stir your heart: do not fear the business of your dream. Do not despise the structures that sustain it, nor surrender your vision to their demands. Learn the ways of the marketplace, but never let them own your spirit. Seek independence—not as rebellion for its own sake, but as the freedom to be bold, to take creative risks, to build something that bears your soul’s true signature. For every great endeavor, whether of art, science, or faith, has begun with one person who refused to be merely a servant of the system and became its architect instead.

Thus, the lesson of Mel Gibson’s words is eternal: mastery lies not in rejecting the world, but in bending it to your will through courage and wisdom. Be both artist and builder. Let your vision soar, but give it wings strong enough to bear the winds of commerce. And when you have earned your independence, use it not for vanity, but for creation—for the bold act that reshapes the world. For in the end, the true measure of art, and of life itself, lies in this balance: the dreamer’s heart beating within the builder’s hands.