By Jennifer Merin

A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints

Written & Directed by Dito Montiel

Dito Montiel never studied filmmaking, writing or music. Yet, at age 36, he finds himself director of a movie (starring Robert Downey Jr., Dianne Wiest, Rosario Dawson, Chazz Palminteri, Channing Tatum and Shia LaBeouf) based on his 2003 memoir, A Guide to Knowing Your Saints, about growing up in working class Astoria, leaving to become a successful artist and then returning home again.

“To me, life’s an adventure. I walk down the street, see a red light in a window and have to know what it’s doing there,” explains Montiel. “I’d wander around, always interested in people, in everything. I’d go to a club, meet a guy and have to find out what he’s about. I always seek out the red light. I’m fascinated by things I don’t know.”

MERIN: You attribute your serendipitous career to curiosity?

MONTIEL: Yeah. Endless curiosity. I get it from my mother. She grew up in Coney Island and used to take the train there every Saturday and walk back to Astoria—three boroughs—just looking at everything. I’m like that, too. I was a real annoying kid—always asking questions. 

Your success seems circumstantial—meeting people who invite you to join a band, publish your book, produce your movie. You’re catapulting from one art to another rapidly, accomplishing miracles. What are your long-term ambitions?

It’s a hard word for me to come to terms with, but I truly love art; any way I can express it, I will. If someone says, “make a painting” ... well, I know I can’t draw, so I’ll stay away from that. But with most things, I enjoy taking chances. I’m excited about writing and directing because it’s two things I really love. Directing was something I never imagined doing. But under the right circumstances—like this movie—it’s all encompassing art. You dabble in everything. When it was over, Robert Downey said, “Now we get closure.” And I said, “Ahhhhh. God, I hate this.” I enjoy the chase, catch, struggle and fight so much, I don’t want it to end.

Downey was instrumental in making this film. How’d you meet him?

Over years in N.Y. and L.A., we’d sort of bang into each other from time to time. We have a mutual friend—who actually did the score. So, Robert weaved in and out of my life. I never tried to suck up to him, although God knows I’ve gotten everything I could from our friendship.

He’s a great artist. He takes chances—on something as preposterous as a first-time director who doesn’t know how to make a film. We’ve had a good friendship, but we’ve locked horns.

Over the film?

Piles of times. Robert was part of this from day one. It’s impossible to create art with another human being and not lock horns—unless you’re making something compromised.

We both have strong opinions. Robert’s really smart—sometimes we’d lock horns because he knew better, and sometimes because he thought he knew better.

What about?

Well, you always put a piece of yourself in anything you write. This has a little more of that than normal, but it’s not an autobiography. But there’re pieces of my life and pieces of 10 other kids wrapped up into four characters. I had things that were hard to let go of, and Robert comes in bringing a piece of himself and a lot of brains. We’d lock horns on little things, like the first scene he has with Chazz, when he smiles before he walks out the door. 

I said, “Robert, how could you smile? It’s so disrespectful.” He said, “I felt like smiling.” The funny thing is, after we fought like cats and dogs, he did it again for me without a smile. But, in editing, I used the one with the smile.

Whenever you write a character (or anyone’s story), then hand it to someone to rewrite or act it, there’s going to be interpretation. That was hard. Robert’s a passionate artist, and I’m a bit like that, too.

You’d never directed before. How’d you know how to do it?

I studied my own way. People come from different schools—one says you need schooling and the other says school messes you up. I don’t believe either. I learn everything I can, everywhere I can.

I’d love to have gone to NYU; I just didn’t have that opportunity. I watched directors talk on DVD, was fascinated by stories about making French Connection and Martin Scorcese making King of Comedy. So, I picked up bits and pieces. If anyone would sit down with me for an hour, I’d really listen to them.

The directing and editing—everything I did in this film—came from what felt right. If it felt right, I believed it. Good people advised me, that’s right. It’s not like I just jumped in, like I know better than anyone. 

You put yourself in a pressure cooker ...

Yeah, but I enjoy the pressure, the tests. This was 50-million tests. Trudie Styler is really an excellent producer because she puts up endless obstacles—like living in a Bruce Lee movie.

I secretly wanted to direct, but figured it was enough that they were letting me write it. Then Robert said I should direct. I told him if he could talk Trudie into it, I would. Then Trudie calls me and says, “Mr. Downey thinks you can direct, but you never made a film before, never worked with movie stars. So make a short of this script and, if I like it, you can direct.” Yeah, it was a pressure cooker, but getting through her obstacles was a great learning experience.