Behind The Lens
Some people chase the shot. Others let it come to them.
Greg Weaver falls squarely into the second camp. The kind of filmer who knows when to move, when to wait, and when to simply stay out of the way and let the magic unfold. His work feels effortless, but like most things worth doing, it’s built on years of grit, cold mornings, and figuring it out the hard way.
Greg’s story doesn’t start in California sunshine or waist-deep powder. It starts in Minnesota, where winters are long and the Midwest itch to get out is very real. After a two-year college stint in Colorado studying ski area operations, he pointed himself west and landed in Mammoth in 2004, working as an equipment operator. Then life threw a curveball, a knee injury that took him out for an entire season.
Instead of sitting still, Greg picked up a new skill.
Stuck on the sidelines, he taught himself how to edit. Then how to shoot. No mentor. No blueprint. Just curiosity, patience, and a willingness to mess up until things started to click. When he healed up, he began filming friends who were getting sponsored. One job turned into another, and before long, what started as something to pass the time became a career.
The Turning Point
The moment it stopped feeling like a hobby came in 2009, when Mammoth hired Greg to make a snowboard film. Suddenly he was working alongside riders he’d grown up idolizing. The project —Another Day in Paradise — was exactly that: a turning point.
Snow sports didn’t just shape Greg’s résumé; they shaped how he sees the world through a lens. Filming in the mountains teaches empathy. You’re working with athletes doing something dangerous, unpredictable, and deeply personal. You can’t be overly demanding or force a moment. You have to read the situation, trust the people around you, and respect the risk.
That mindset carried Greg to some of the most defining collaborations of his career, including working as one of Jeremy Jones’ filmers, a role that cemented his place in the snowboarding world.
Between the Risk and the Reward
Of course, not every moment behind the camera is dreamy light and bottomless turns. One of Greg’s most intense experiences came when he was caught in an avalanche, buried, and recovered. A reminder that the mountains don’t care how dialed you are. It was one of the scariest moments of his life, and one that put everything else into perspective.
When it comes to favorite shots, Greg doesn’t point to a specific clip. For him, it’s simpler than that: fresh powder and good light. That’s the sweet spot. Whether a rider is going big or just flowing through turns, nothing beats the combination of clean snow and the right glow. That’s the stuff that sticks.
Gear-wise, Greg keeps it refreshingly simple. He doesn’t obsess over cameras or lenses, just whatever gets the highest quality image for the job. But if you’re heading into the backcountry with him, know this: good sunglasses are non-negotiable.
What makes an action sports shot timeless instead of just impressive? Greg doesn’t hesitate: lighting and style. When both line up, the image holds up forever.
As for how he shoots, it all comes back to instinct. Greg plans, overthinks, and prepares, but the best moments happen when he trusts his gut and lets go of control. “You’re never really in control,” he says. “You just have to get out of your own way and let it happen.”
That philosophy extends to his advice for filmmakers trying to break into snow or moto today: just start. Make things. You’ll get better. Ignore the noise. Don’t chase an audience. Do what feels right to you, the rest will sort itself out.
Trust the Process
That philosophy extends to his advice for filmmakers trying to break into snow or moto today: just start. Make things. You’ll get better. Ignore the noise. Don’t chase an audience. Do what feels right to you, the rest will sort itself out.
