It’s a chilly Friday afternoon on the Upper West Side of NYC, but Marcus Haney, the quintessential Angeleno, appears unfazed. Accompanied by only a heavy backpack and vintage valise, he’s on his way to Amsterdam to promote his newest project. Casual, funny and down–to–earth, he discusses his adventures with ease and confidence. You could almost mistake him as your typical L.A. college kid—except for the fact that he’s well on his way to shake up the film industry, and he’s no longer in college (he dropped out of USC). He told Street his story: one that required some luck, many risks and a whole lot of talent.

34th Street Magazine: Tell us a little bit about your most recent film, “Austin to Boston.”

Marcus Haney: So, we shot it way after “No Cameras Allowed.” The edit process was similar regarding the timeframe, and it's basically a music road trip film: four bands going across the country in five VW camper vans, seeing America, some of them for the first time. They’re all from England, except for one. So that’s a very interesting way to see America: through the eyes of a bunch of Brits, playing music everywhere from the back country of Kansas to the Mercury lounge to Philly’s World Cafe. They even played in cabins up in Woodstock, so it was a very cool mix of small venues and tiny little bars.  

Street: And how did you get the idea to do that?

MH: The tour was Ben Lovett’s [of Mumford and Sons] idea. I had a Volkswagen, and we got four more Volkswagens. He runs Communion Music, which is a small artist collective with incredible artists (all the bands were with Communion). He asked me to come along and direct it, and it was a blast. Amazing, amazing musicians.

Street: Both movies are based on a lot of raw footage. Are you considering moving towards more scripted films in the future?

MH: Yeah, absolutely. This whole array of documentaries was kind of an accident. I went to film school in L.A., and I directed a feature film in high school. That's where my heart's always been; I've got loads of scripts. I got to college and went around with my favorite bands for three years, which has been incredible, but now I've done that. I got a couple films out of it, which was amazing in terms of life experience, but I'm ready. Not to jump out of music, but I'm stoked to do other things in film and even doing more documentary work—not just music, but photo work. I just got back from the Congo, which was an incredible non–music trip.

Street: How have you responded to some of the criticism judging “No Cameras Allowed” as an "MTV fabrication" or a "fake documentary"?

MH: (Laughs.) Yeah, that was fun. That all came out before anyone even saw the film. I made the film with my team, finished it, and then MTV came in and licensed it and had nothing to do with the creative side whatsoever. Even if one of the MTV logos says MTV development, they had nothing to do with development. But because it comes with the MTV tag, people automatically consider it a scripted, reality TV project. It was a real struggle to partner up with them because of that very reason, knowing you're putting that association on your very authentic, very real and very personal film. It was a very tough decision, but going with them, I knew that all this stuff would come up—that was inevitable.

So, an unofficial trailer was leaked before the official trailer came out, and in a matter of three days it went stupid viral, a million views, number one on Reddit, went to every blog. So, I knew that was all coming. But since the film came out, there's been no backlash. If you see the film, it's very obvious that it's not an MTV scripted thing. So after that, all that shit kind of went away.

Street: In a world where everyone has access to selfies/vines/Instagram, everyone believes they can make movies. What’s your opinion on this easy access to “making art?”

MH: That's just it. This digital revolution is such a double–edged sword. In one way, it's leveling the playing field, which is fantastic. It allows people who didn't have access, especially to the software, to be given the tools to go as hard as they want. How many artists, 15 years ago, have we lost because of financial means to work with the tools they needed? Now, that's not the case—it's not the just the rich kids with toys who are advantaged. Now, anyone can create. The problem with that is not everyone should create. At the same time of leveling the playing field and rising as they should, we now have a massive sea of mediocrity of people who believe they should be creating. And this world is so diluted— [the] internet, art, our own lives—that we have to wade through a sea of crap to get to anything good. We're drowning ourselves in content that doesn't matter. But without this revolution, I wouldn't be able to take photos and make movies, so I'm also excited about it.

Street: “No Cameras Allowed” shows grimy Porta–Potties and acid trips—tough days as well as a great music festival experience that our generation is obsessed with. Do you have a story that you want to share with us about the rougher days?

MH: One of the rougher days? Hmm…When you're at a festival, you have lots of fun, but sneaking in takes so much time. It’s very stressful. What sticks in your mind is the most wild time—obviously, it’s not cotton candy all the time, and it's not torture, but there is some physical exertion and stress. And if you do wait in line, you wait in line for hours. It's like when you go to Disneyland: you wait in line for hours, and you get on the ride for two minutes. It sucks, but all you remember a week later is the ride...I hate Disneyland.

Street: So if you could curate your own festival with five headliners tomorrow, who would they be (dead or alive)?

MH: LCD Soundsystem, five times. Ok, ok. LCD Soundsystem, Diarrhea Planet, um... This is so hard. Hold on. I can do a hundred bands, I just need to think of the five. LCD Soundsystem, Diarrhea Planet, Otis Redding, Blink–182, The Beatles. And let’s add a secret show by The National. It'd be cool to curate a festival. The Mumford boys do that. They're called Gentlemen of the Road Stopovers. They're on regular tour and every couple weeks on the weekends they have a mini festival in places, weird towns. And what's amazing about it is Mumford decides everything so it's like THEIR festival. They go in six months in advance and get the whole town behind them. They bring in 15,000 people, camping, and the entire town is completely transformed, not just that weekend but forever.

Street: There are strong opinions on the international festival circuit. Which side are you on: U.S. or Euro?

MH: American festivals just pale in comparison. Don’t get me wrong, I love Coachella. It's something that you embrace for what it is; it's a fun time. But there's definitely a difference between Coachella and a European festival. It's very anthropological, cultural, social, even. At Coachella, you have perfectly manicured lawns. They tell you: here's where you drink, here's where you listen to music. It's so well–run, you can get in and out easily, people are smiling. At the same time, it feels very safe, which is a good thing, but you feel like it's very produced—not a bad thing—and packaged. It's in a nice bow for you.

Glastonbury is an absolute, beautiful shit show, you know? It's not in a bow, but it's in your face whether you like it or not. And you can go sleep anywhere, drink anywhere, and do whatever you want—anywhere. And that's awesome. It's unregulated. It's wild. It's huge. You can go there for four days, see no music and have the time of your life because there's much more to do. This would never happen in the States.

Street: Our Penn readers surely want information on how to break into the creative world. What's your advice?

MH: Two points: live hard, and create as much as possible. That is so much more important than getting As, so much more important than brown–nosing professors to get grades, so much more important than spending all your time in a book. The technical stuff will come. Just go and make stuff. Do not let go of life experiences in favor for getting good grades. That's horseshit, especially in the creative world: you don't need good grades! What you need is basic stories, basic contact  and the ability to tell stories in a way that people connect to. You're not gonna have those stories if you don't go and live.

So, go Alaskan salmon–farming for a summer, even though you won't ever do that in your life. Go to South America and get coffee beans, go be a taxi drivers in a foreign country. Go do stuff that you won't do later: travel, travel, travel. Even if you have means to travel nicely, don't, because you'll be in the same bubble in a different city. Nasty bits, stay there. That will fuel stories and content you need. I'm not saying drop out, but if what you want is creative, your degree has nothing with what you want professionally, college isn't cut out in stone.

We briefly talk about our plans for the weekend. I mention a sold–out concert in Brooklyn that I wanted to attend. “Just sneak in,” he smirks, and with that, he’s gone.