What I have in mind:

"I'm thinking of going to film school," You say over a glass of wine at the pub. You either say it to an undergrad colleague (to show your dedication to the craft), a co-worker (to prove that you have the courage to leave this dead-end job and follow your vocation), or your mother (to give her a good source of steady worry for the remainder of her existence) -- but at some point you say it. And at some point you fill out that extensive application, and you get accepted, and then you wonder what you can sell to pay for it.

.........

It breaks down like this: film is a craft that requires learning and practice. Where you want to do it is up to you. If you don't like crowds get a mentor. If you need company take a workshop. If you need consistent companionship go to film school. For those who have a penchant for learning in their underwear, read a book -- get on the internet. Learning the basics is unavoidable.

You could just grab a camera, and throw yourself in there for roughly $1000 per screen minute, or universe less if you are digitally inclined. Odds are you'll learn what not to do first, and will identify in time what you (instinctively) did right. It's all part of the same process.

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I never liked Hamlet. Hamlet is a wuss. I hate that to be or not to be speech, but here I am, contemplating another variation.

Why I shouldn't go: Because there are no girl wonders in film school. It's a guy turf. Every young director that gets touted as the next best thing has something dangling between his legs. The film school brats Scorsese, Coppola, the Andersons (Wes and Paul, not related, though they sound like a 70s duet). Girl wonders in the mythology of cinema are virtually nonexistent.

Why I should go: Because there are no girl wonders in film school and I want to do an up-yours sort of thing.

As far as finances are concerned, all I can say is that photocopying a 20-page story for 10 people in writing school is so much less expensive that going around trying to take crowd shots at the MRT station. Then again, if you really want to write, you don't do it in a class where mostly everyone is churning out bits of their lives masquerading as fiction. You do it alone, in your underwear in front of a blinking computer screen.

Screw this mortal coil bit. Somebody willing to loan me a digicam?