Red Flags of Bad Production Leadership

I’ve been on sets where everything hums and on sets that feel like slow-motion train wrecks. The difference is always leadership.

My son's at SCAD right now, navigating student productions, and I keep telling him: pay attention to how people lead. Not just what they say in meetings, but how they run their sets, how they respond when things go sideways, how they treat the PA versus the DP.

Bad leadership isn't always loud or cruel. Sometimes it's dysfunction dressed up as decisiveness. These are some red flags I tell him to watch for that can sink a student short or a studio tentpole.

Ignoring Production Reality

The classic exec move: approving ambitious rewrites or sequences without understanding what's actually possible within the schedule or budget.

On student films, it looks like: "We'll figure it out" thinking. Last-minute pages that demand six locations in one day. Calling for stunts or kids without permits or insurance. Assuming post can fix a shot that was never properly blocked.

On one show, producers swore we could shoot a complex action sequence in half a day because "the storyboards look simple." Storyboards don't account for lighting delays, actor safety meetings, or the fact that your stunt coordinator has a hangover.

Try this instead: Bring in department heads early. When your cinematographer or 1st AD says something's unrealistic, they're not killing your vision, they're saving it. Listen to the people who will have to execute your ideas.

The Approval Black Hole

Decisions that should take an hour stretch into weeks. Studio execs say they’ll "circle back" after internal conversations, and never do. Producers ghost on approvals until the edit's locked. Five different department heads and everyone at the network must sign off on a costume change.

On one project, we'd send drafts to the network, hear nothing for weeks, then get a flood of contradictory notes the day before production. That's not collaboration. That's chaos.

Try this instead: Set decision deadlines and make it clear who owns each call. A slow "yes" will kill momentum faster than a fast "no." If you're the one making people wait, you're the bottleneck.

Chasing the Shiny Object

Some leaders chase polish before purpose. I've watched weeks get burned building beautiful mockups for scenes that vanished in the next draft. Early in my career, I worked on a project where the producer kept asking for concept art instead of locking the script. The team generated gorgeous art. The project never got made.

Try this instead: Early materials should explore, not impress. Test tone and story before you spend money and time to make it pretty. Commit to clarity before aesthetics.

Micromanaging Without Understanding

"Make it more cinematic." "Give it Spielberg energy." "Can we add some lens flares?"

Vague direction without intent sends the crew scrambling. A producer once suggested to us, "Make the scene feel more blue." The editor dutifully tried five color grades before realizing the issue was pacing, not saturation.

Try this instead: Articulate the problem, not the solution. "The scene feels emotionally flat" gives the team something specific to focus on. "Add a cool crane shot" doesn't.

Punishing Honesty

Crew or scribblers raise valid concerns, and suddenly they're labeled "difficult." A department head warns about weather or continuity, and gets frozen out. A scribbler identifies a logic issue, and is accused of being unsupportive.

The person pointing out the problem isn't negative, they're protecting the project. Silencing them doesn't make the issue disappear, it just blinds you dealing with it until it's too late.

Try this instead: Build psychological safety. Listening doesn't mean agreeing; it means collecting data from people close to the work. If nobody's willing to tell you bad news, you're not leading a production, you're probably about to run an ocean liner into an iceberg.

The Revolving Door Delusion

Treating collaborators as interchangeable parts is a rookie mistake. I've seen producers fire long-term editors or low level scribblers to "shake things up," only to realize those people were the glue holding everything together. Replacing them didn't bring fresh energy, it brought confusion and creative drift.

Try this instead: Protect your institutional memory. Mentor your juniors. Don't burn out the veterans who keep you afloat. Turnover isn't a sign of high standards, it's often the footprint of poor leadership.

The Crunch Lie

"We need the cut to the studio by end of day." Student sets are especially vulnerable to this. Eighteen-hour days, "voluntary" weekend pickups, unpaid reshoots for people who already gave you their best hours.

Early in my career, on Heroes season one in particular, I convinced myself that everyone was as obsessed with the show as I was. They weren't. They had lives. Pretending that overwork equals passion doesn't make you an artist, it just makes you a bad manager.

Try this instead: Honor human limits. A tired crew makes bad creative calls. Build realistic schedules or own the overtime. Don't gaslight people into thinking exploitation is passion.

Build Great Habits & a Great Reputation

You don't need a studio deal to practice good leadership. Start on your next student film. Set clear goals. Trust your team. Own your decisions. Create space for feedback and a culture that encourages it. Respect the people doing the actual labor of bringing your vision to life.

Every student film is a leadership lab. The habits you build now, the way you listen, decide, and protect your team, will define how people remember working with you ten years from now. This industry is smaller than you think, and reputations travel faster than resumes. 

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