‘Mr. Scorsese’ Producer Damon Cardasis on Why Everyone Should Want Rebecca Miller to Lead Their Set

On June 4, the IndieWire Honors Spring 2026 ceremony will celebrate the creators and stars responsible for crafting some of the year’s best television series. Curated and selected by IndieWire’s editorial team, IndieWire Honors is a celebration of the creators, artisans, and performers behind shows well worth toasting. In the days leading up to the Los Angeles event, IndieWire is showcasing their work with new interviews and tributes from their peers.

Ahead, “Mr. Scorsese” producer Damon Cardasis, who began working with Rebecca Miller as her assistant on the 2009 film “The Private Lives of Pippa Lee,” praises her passion, bravery, artistry, and humor while leading from the front on a film set — or as your friend, in the case of Cardasis, whose wedding she officiated.

I first met Rebecca Miller in the farmland of Connecticut in 2007. Tall, statuesque, and with her hair in two buns, perched atop her head like giraffe horns (note, I googled it, and they’re not horns but “ossicones”). Her mind was racing 10 million miles an hour, and I, who had driven up from the City, wearing my best suspenders, was excited to interview as her assistant on her film, “The Private Lives of Pippa Lee.” She was captivating. Warm, welcoming, brilliant, and in a sprint as we were weeks away from shooting, and I had been brought on as a replacement for someone who was injured. What I thought was a seven-week on-set job turned into an almost 20-year partnership, mentorship, and friendship that has formed me as a person and been one of the most important relationships in my personal and creative life. She also married my husband and I — just to add to her list of accomplishments.

Rebecca is a leader. A kind one. In a world where tyrants reign supreme, and a business where very often you have to look over your shoulder, or take everything with a “grain of salt,” Rebecca is honest and leads from the front with passion, bravery, charisma, humor, and an artistry and mind that continue to surprise me. It is often that crew will come up to me and tell me that “this is the nicest set I’ve ever been on,” or “I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed coming to work this much.” It’s not because Rebecca needs more friends, but because she appreciates every soul who is on set, dedicating themselves to building and crafting her films and her art. It’s a community and family in which she is our gracious leader and Queen; yes, the nice one you hear about in fairytales, but also the strong one who is a step ahead and ready to conquer any quest. She’s led her cinematographer towards a live lion (a grumpy one at that), climbed up and down tug boats during a thunderstorm, sprung onto set hours early to prepare for an impending snowstorm that eventually covered our waists, and choreographed how to shoot dancers and singers who performed an alien opera. These are but a few of her talents.

She is a chameleon, someone who can pop into a Hollywood event with her incredible style (knowing half the room), but is most at home hanging at the DMV (yes, we went together) or taking a train from Los Angeles to NYC after an award show, chatting with people who have no idea what Rebecca does for a living or where she came from the night before. She is the opposite of an elitist, an egalitarian who has a curiosity about the world, about people and what makes them tick, about morality and the rights and wrongs of society, and the quirks that make us individuals. She loves individuals.

Rebecca Miller on the set of ‘The Private Lives of Pippa Lee’Screen Media Films/courtesy Everett Collection

Her curiosity and talent have allowed her to shift between mediums: from painter at Yale to novelist (“A Woman Who,” “Total,” “The Private Lives of Pippa Lee,” “Jacob’s Folly”) to experimental filmmaker, to writer and director of lyric dramas (“Angela,” “Personal Velocity,” “The Ballad of Jack and Rose,” “The Private Lives of Pippa Lee”) to modern screwball comedies (“Maggie’s Plan”), and now into documentaries where she was able to be nominated for an Emmy for her first (“Arthur Miller: Writer”), and won the Directors Guild Award for her second (“Mr. Scorsese”). It was on “Mr. Scorsese” that I saw her rapid-fire mind be able to keep up with the master himself, talking Italian cinema, literature, opera, dance, and photography, and then immediately switch into what dish she wanted to cook for dinner for her family as we made our way towards home. She’s great at that, too.

But most importantly, Rebecca, the filmmaker, documentarian, screenwriter, novelist, and painter, who flows between various mediums and art forms, and won awards across all, creates her art without compromising kindness and morality. Whether it’s being available for a chat about something in your personal life while she’s on set directing, or shouting words of encouragement to you, when most other artists would be unable to think of anything else, Rebecca is always there as a friend and partner. Never missing out on checking in and always making sure that things are done properly, justly, and with absolute integrity.

Going back to my introduction to Rebecca in 2007, I’m reminded of the first person I met in her family.  It was her son Ronan, who at nine, sat quietly reading at the kitchen table. He was polite and gracious to this stranger who was in his house, nervously hoping he’d get a job and like his new boss. Seeing Ronan’s kindness and manners, I thought, “If someone raises a child this well, they must be a good person.” I’m not always right, but in this case, I absolutely was.