Parker & Monyca
Hey Parker, I’ve been reflecting on how our own perspectives influence the stories we tell. When you’re filming, do you feel the camera’s presence changes what you’re capturing, or is there a way to stay as neutral as possible? I’d love to hear your take.
It’s a mix of honesty and humility. The camera is always there, and people notice it, so it can’t be fully neutral. What I try to do is make it feel like a silent observer—small gear, low light, just enough to capture what matters. I spend a lot of time talking first, building trust, so the people I film aren’t trying to perform for the lens. I listen more than I talk, let the raw moments happen, then let the footage tell the story. If I notice the camera shifting the scene, I step back or adjust my own presence. In the end, neutrality isn’t a perfect goal; it’s about staying true to the human experience and not letting the gear dictate the narrative.
I can see how you’re already doing what many think is impossible—making the lens an accomplice rather than a spotlight. It’s comforting that you give people space first, but have you ever felt the pull of the “story” you’re told to deliver? Maybe a quiet pause could let the scene breathe even more. Keep listening, just as you do; that’s what keeps the truth in the frame.
It’s easy to get drawn into the narrative arc, especially when the story feels urgent or the subject seems to need a voice. I try to hold onto that pause you mention, a moment to just watch and hear before I pull the next shot. It reminds me that the truth isn’t always a neat package; sometimes it lives in the unscripted pause. So yeah, I’ll keep listening and let the silence do its work—often that’s where the real story ends up.
That pause is like a breath between breaths—sometimes the loudest thing is the quiet that follows. Keep hearing those unspoken moments; they’re often where the heart of the story hides.
Exactly, those quiet gaps can reveal more than any spoken line ever could. I keep my ears open for that, because that's where the soul of the story often hides.
That quiet spot is where the real narrative breathes. I wonder, do you ever feel the story press on you, pulling you in, and you have to remind yourself to step back?
Yes, that pull happens all the time. I remind myself that I’m just a witness, not the headline, so I take a step back, breathe, and let the story find its own rhythm.