Looks like we've been neglecting the blog a little lately.
Well, you'll have to excuse us. The filming dates are coming ever closer. So, if you don't see as many regular updates within the next month or so, you'll know it's not because we're on vacation at Disney World.
But rather, we're swamped with schedules, and ordering supplies, and final casting decisions, and paperwork, and camera tests, and... well, you get the picture...
Monday, March 30, 2009
Pricing DIY DVDs & Other Fetish Items
Adam Chapnick twittered about NeoFlix's DIYFlix blog posting about most popular pricing techniques for their clients. It ran counter to my instincts as I would have thought more gravitated to the high and low end, but by far the most popular price point is $15-$20. The DIYFlix blog itself has a pile of good advice & food for thought, so check it out.
Some of the best advice in this category comes from the example of HELVETICA. As Scott Kirsner points out in his indispensable right-of-the-moment guide to building an audience (Fans, Friends, & Followers) "Selling just one thing is old hat".
Multiple versions and merchandising is the way to go. So much more can be done with this. By all means there should be multiple versions of all films, with different additional content, commentary, even cuts. Why is that we only get the dvd with the film, and maybe a t-shirt or action figure? If fans want to show their appreciation for a work there should be something more substantial. One of my favorite pieces of film fetish paraphernalia is this: Brendan Dawes' Cinema Redux print of Kubrick's 2001 The film is reduced to one image from every second of the film in high resolution. Each row has sixty frames in it.
Why can't we have more beautiful works derived from the films we love?
Labels:
Adam Chapnick,
Brendan Dawes,
DIYFlix,
DVD,
Helvetica,
Neoflix,
pricing,
Scott Kirsner
Friday, March 27, 2009
Prepping Your Film For Distribution
Jason Brubaker has "Prepping Your Film For Distribution" in current edition of The Independent. It's all good advice and the equal attention paid to self-distribution demonstrates the reality-check that has finally seeped through the layers of denial most indie filmmakers have held on to for too long. I wonder why "getting pick up" is even looked at on even ground with the DIY approach. Let's face it, the odds are practically 1 in 400 that your film will be picked up by a major distributor. The time to start to prep for self-distribution is now, not later.
I recognize how getting your film made is an all consuming task. Yet, I am struck time and time again how filmmakers don't recognize that "prepping your film for distribution", reaching out to your audience, and marketing your film BEFORE you shoot, all significantly increases your odds of getting picked up. It's like wearing the right clothes before you go to the bar. It shows that you are serious. It shows that you are going to do everything possible for people to see your film, that you will give your all to get your investors money back.
Back in the Good Machine days, and every day since then, we have approached delivery like production. If you arrive at a film festival having done the due diligence that Jason discusses, your chances have acquisition are improved. Every distributor has had the nightmare of the unclearable or undeliverable film -- and they will avoid the repeat like the plague.
We have had our films bought or financed because we showed how the film could be marketed, where the audience was and what they responded to previously. We didn't wait until the movie had screened to address this. We thought long and hard about this before we shot anything. Waiting until your movie is done to approach these issues is going to hurt your prospects.
I am also of the firm belief that thinking about these aspects, whether they are marketing, legal, or delivery issues, makes your film better. It focuses the thought. It requires choices to be made. There is no excuse not to do everything that is raised in The Independent BEFORE you even approach investors. Take Jason's advice to heart, but do it sooner, much much much sooner.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Nancy Savoca on "True Love"
How did you get interested in filmmaking?
NANCY SAVOCA: My family says I started talking about it when I was really young, but I don't remember that. But I think it was in high school, during that last year when you can take whatever you want. I was taking things like Folk Poetry and Music Theory. And there was a History of the Movies class. That was the first time I understood what a director did. It was explained that there was actually one person who was in charge of putting all the different elements together in a film.
And that was something that was really interesting, because I think in my teenage years I was really interested in the arts -- I loved music and I loved drawing and I loved watching actors perform. There were so many things that I loved, yet I didn't feel that I was particularly good at these things. But I was a great appreciator of good music and good performance and good photography -- I could appreciate it.
So I realized, when I learned about filmmaking, that that's what a director does. They are the ones who say, "Oh, that's the piece of music we need to use," and "That's the take we need to print." Basically we're there to cheerlead all these great artists and get their best work and put it all together.
When I found out that's what it was, I was like, "Oh, sign me up! That sounds good. I can do that." I was about seventeen at the time.
What did you do when you got out of NYU film school?
NANCY SAVOCA: Right after film school was finished, we started writing True Love, that summer. I remember one of the things that sort of upset me were rules. Like people had these ideas, these rules. Like one person said to me that summer, "It's great that you're writing your first feature, but you usually have to direct two shorts to do a feature." And then somebody else said, "No, no, no, So-and-So just went out to LA. You have to get an agent and write two screenplays for other people, and then you get to direct your first feature."
And I thought, "Who made those rules? I've never heard of directors who follow these rules. Is someone making up new ones just so we can jump through hoops? This is stupid."
So Rich and I co-wrote True Love in a couple weeks in a cabin in Vermont, which was so bizarre because we were writing about the Bronx and we were in the middle of nowhere in Vermont.
When we came out with it, basically nothing happened. We were showing it around; we didn't know. I didn't even have, at that time, the vocabulary to say this is an independent film or not an independent film. I just wanted to make this story because I hadn't seen it before. It was the old 'write what you know,' so I wrote what I knew, which was my experience, which happened to be right before we started film school: Which was that I got married, and that year that I got married, everybody in my neighborhood got married. So we went to a lot of weddings and witnessed a lot of the things that ended up in the script.
So basically it was six years of trying this, that and the other thing. About every six to eight months we'd take the script out and polish it up. But for whatever reason, there was just nothing else I could think to do. I just knew that this was the story. Whether that was smart or not, I can't tell you. But it was six years.
So what was it that finally got True Love off the ground?
NANCY SAVOCA: John Sayles.
What happened was I was sort of half-ass shooting this documentary that wasn't working. And one of my friends said, "What are you doing shooting a documentary? You have this script." And I said, "Yeah, but I need money to shoot that script and we don't have money." But it put this idea in my head and we decided to take what tiny little money we had to do the documentary and take that money -- which was basically all the savings we had at that time -- and do a ten-minute sample reel, which is sort of like a long version of a trailer.
So we put an ad in Backstage and did casting, found a crew that was mostly commercial people or people who had worked in independent films and were working a step below and wanted to step up. And since everyone was working at one level higher than normal, nobody needed to get paid, which was great, because everybody was doing it for their reel.
So we shot this thing, we cut it, it looked great, the performances were great -- we got these great actors -- and we started sending it to all the people who had rejected the script, and we were universally rejected again. After spending all the money we had.
We were just depressed. And then we decided to do a screening in Manhattan and -- because, during those six years of working -- we had met so many people in the film business. So we just cast the net really wide and we invited everybody that we knew to invite everybody that they knew.
We had wine and cheese and ten minutes is painless. I don't know why, but people showed up. Diane Keaton showed up. I don't know why. But because it was New York and it was such a little closed community, for some reason, people showed up.
What happened after that was that I got a phone call from John Sayles and he said, "Look, if you want to do this movie down and dirty, guerilla style, I'll be your first investor."
So how did you feel on the first day of shooting True Love?
NANCY SAVOCA: Great. Nervous as hell. Ready to puke -- I couldn't tell if it was morning sickness. But nobody knew I was pregnant. Nobody knew because I found out two weeks before we started shooting and the one thing you don't want to tell everybody who'd investing in you on your first film is, "Oh, by the way, I'm pregnant."
I think today it might be a little easier. Or maybe not. Who knows. But I definitely knew to keep my mouth shut.
I was nervous on one level but also just like -- excited, but relieved. It was like, "Okay. Well here I am. Let's go." And it was that leap into the void of "Let's go. I don't know what's going to happen here, but I'm here. You're here. Let's go."
Tell me about your experience at Sundance with True Love.
NANCY SAVOCA: It was pretty amazing but I wasn't there. I wasn't even there.
We finished editing the movie in late 1988. John Sayles said there was a festival we should look into, called the United States Film Festival in Park City. We did a temp mix on the soundtrack and sent it in and we got accepted.
The festival was the last week of January and my due date was the 27th of January, so I wasn't going to go. So one of the producers went, with my lawyer and the music supervisor.
I was at home and I started going into labor one evening. And the phone rings while I'm in labor. My husband picks it up and then he says, "Oh my God. Oh my God. I'll put Nancy on, but I'm not sure she can breath."
So I take the phone and say, "What?" And everyone was screaming. It sounded like Beatlemania or something. Everyone was screaming. And someone was saying, "We won! We won!" And I said, "What?" And they said, "The film won!"
But I really didn't understand what had happened, because nobody could talk really, and also because I was hugging the wall and breathing. And so I said, "I have to hang up because this kid's going to be born." I hung up the phone and we went to the hospital.
The next morning the baby was born. And the midwife said to me, "What happened to that little movie you were working on when you were pregnant?" And I turned to Rich and said, "Did we win something last night?"
We came home with my son a day later, and my house looked like a funeral. Everybody sent flowers. It was a small apartment and there were flowers everywhere. Disney sent a t-shirt for the baby that said, "My Mom is the world's greatest director." Every single major studio was acknowledging the award and the baby.
I was flabbergasted because independent film, before that night, at Sundance, a new wave began for independent film. It was born in a different way that night. I didn't happen to be there, but I was a part of it. And that particular year, they changed the name from the US Film Festival to the Sundance Film Festival.
I have a poster that says "True Love: Winner of the United States Film Festival," because MGM didn't realize that they had changed the name. And that was the year that all the studio executives showed up. There had been rumblings; the year before a lot of great movies were there and they were saying, "Oh, I guess something's happening at Sundance, so we have to go." And that was the year that they all went.
NANCY SAVOCA: My family says I started talking about it when I was really young, but I don't remember that. But I think it was in high school, during that last year when you can take whatever you want. I was taking things like Folk Poetry and Music Theory. And there was a History of the Movies class. That was the first time I understood what a director did. It was explained that there was actually one person who was in charge of putting all the different elements together in a film.
And that was something that was really interesting, because I think in my teenage years I was really interested in the arts -- I loved music and I loved drawing and I loved watching actors perform. There were so many things that I loved, yet I didn't feel that I was particularly good at these things. But I was a great appreciator of good music and good performance and good photography -- I could appreciate it.
So I realized, when I learned about filmmaking, that that's what a director does. They are the ones who say, "Oh, that's the piece of music we need to use," and "That's the take we need to print." Basically we're there to cheerlead all these great artists and get their best work and put it all together.
When I found out that's what it was, I was like, "Oh, sign me up! That sounds good. I can do that." I was about seventeen at the time.
What did you do when you got out of NYU film school?
NANCY SAVOCA: Right after film school was finished, we started writing True Love, that summer. I remember one of the things that sort of upset me were rules. Like people had these ideas, these rules. Like one person said to me that summer, "It's great that you're writing your first feature, but you usually have to direct two shorts to do a feature." And then somebody else said, "No, no, no, So-and-So just went out to LA. You have to get an agent and write two screenplays for other people, and then you get to direct your first feature."
And I thought, "Who made those rules? I've never heard of directors who follow these rules. Is someone making up new ones just so we can jump through hoops? This is stupid."
So Rich and I co-wrote True Love in a couple weeks in a cabin in Vermont, which was so bizarre because we were writing about the Bronx and we were in the middle of nowhere in Vermont.
When we came out with it, basically nothing happened. We were showing it around; we didn't know. I didn't even have, at that time, the vocabulary to say this is an independent film or not an independent film. I just wanted to make this story because I hadn't seen it before. It was the old 'write what you know,' so I wrote what I knew, which was my experience, which happened to be right before we started film school: Which was that I got married, and that year that I got married, everybody in my neighborhood got married. So we went to a lot of weddings and witnessed a lot of the things that ended up in the script.
So basically it was six years of trying this, that and the other thing. About every six to eight months we'd take the script out and polish it up. But for whatever reason, there was just nothing else I could think to do. I just knew that this was the story. Whether that was smart or not, I can't tell you. But it was six years.
So what was it that finally got True Love off the ground?
NANCY SAVOCA: John Sayles.
What happened was I was sort of half-ass shooting this documentary that wasn't working. And one of my friends said, "What are you doing shooting a documentary? You have this script." And I said, "Yeah, but I need money to shoot that script and we don't have money." But it put this idea in my head and we decided to take what tiny little money we had to do the documentary and take that money -- which was basically all the savings we had at that time -- and do a ten-minute sample reel, which is sort of like a long version of a trailer.
So we put an ad in Backstage and did casting, found a crew that was mostly commercial people or people who had worked in independent films and were working a step below and wanted to step up. And since everyone was working at one level higher than normal, nobody needed to get paid, which was great, because everybody was doing it for their reel.
So we shot this thing, we cut it, it looked great, the performances were great -- we got these great actors -- and we started sending it to all the people who had rejected the script, and we were universally rejected again. After spending all the money we had.
We were just depressed. And then we decided to do a screening in Manhattan and -- because, during those six years of working -- we had met so many people in the film business. So we just cast the net really wide and we invited everybody that we knew to invite everybody that they knew.
We had wine and cheese and ten minutes is painless. I don't know why, but people showed up. Diane Keaton showed up. I don't know why. But because it was New York and it was such a little closed community, for some reason, people showed up.
What happened after that was that I got a phone call from John Sayles and he said, "Look, if you want to do this movie down and dirty, guerilla style, I'll be your first investor."
So how did you feel on the first day of shooting True Love?
NANCY SAVOCA: Great. Nervous as hell. Ready to puke -- I couldn't tell if it was morning sickness. But nobody knew I was pregnant. Nobody knew because I found out two weeks before we started shooting and the one thing you don't want to tell everybody who'd investing in you on your first film is, "Oh, by the way, I'm pregnant."
I think today it might be a little easier. Or maybe not. Who knows. But I definitely knew to keep my mouth shut.
I was nervous on one level but also just like -- excited, but relieved. It was like, "Okay. Well here I am. Let's go." And it was that leap into the void of "Let's go. I don't know what's going to happen here, but I'm here. You're here. Let's go."
Tell me about your experience at Sundance with True Love.
NANCY SAVOCA: It was pretty amazing but I wasn't there. I wasn't even there.
We finished editing the movie in late 1988. John Sayles said there was a festival we should look into, called the United States Film Festival in Park City. We did a temp mix on the soundtrack and sent it in and we got accepted.
The festival was the last week of January and my due date was the 27th of January, so I wasn't going to go. So one of the producers went, with my lawyer and the music supervisor.
I was at home and I started going into labor one evening. And the phone rings while I'm in labor. My husband picks it up and then he says, "Oh my God. Oh my God. I'll put Nancy on, but I'm not sure she can breath."
So I take the phone and say, "What?" And everyone was screaming. It sounded like Beatlemania or something. Everyone was screaming. And someone was saying, "We won! We won!" And I said, "What?" And they said, "The film won!"
But I really didn't understand what had happened, because nobody could talk really, and also because I was hugging the wall and breathing. And so I said, "I have to hang up because this kid's going to be born." I hung up the phone and we went to the hospital.
The next morning the baby was born. And the midwife said to me, "What happened to that little movie you were working on when you were pregnant?" And I turned to Rich and said, "Did we win something last night?"
We came home with my son a day later, and my house looked like a funeral. Everybody sent flowers. It was a small apartment and there were flowers everywhere. Disney sent a t-shirt for the baby that said, "My Mom is the world's greatest director." Every single major studio was acknowledging the award and the baby.
I was flabbergasted because independent film, before that night, at Sundance, a new wave began for independent film. It was born in a different way that night. I didn't happen to be there, but I was a part of it. And that particular year, they changed the name from the US Film Festival to the Sundance Film Festival.
I have a poster that says "True Love: Winner of the United States Film Festival," because MGM didn't realize that they had changed the name. And that was the year that all the studio executives showed up. There had been rumblings; the year before a lot of great movies were there and they were saying, "Oh, I guess something's happening at Sundance, so we have to go." And that was the year that they all went.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Chaos Scenario
I found Bob Garfield's AdAge article "The Chaos Scenario" filled with clear and precise observations -- an effective summation of this media biz moment. Although it is ultimately geared for the ad biz, it speaks to the prospects of mass media in general. Itmight has well have been subtitled "The Sky Is Falling, Part Two", yet, as may be my way, I find it ultimately hopeful.
As ad revenue has supported both our culture and the drivers to our culture, and since the days of ads having any sort of mass impact are over, the old way of the media biz is over. We have witnessed the colossal drop of stock value across all forms of media companies (well, I guess except Netflix). They will soon be all changing dramatically. It is going to be a long haul before the new model is found and grows stable. It is the end of the world as we know it (which happens to be one of my son's favorite songs of the moment -- another sign of the happy apocalypse fantasy...)
It's well worth reading and pondering. Among it's many great quips:
The future is bright. But the present is apocalyptic. Any hope for a seamless transition -- or any transition at all -- from mass media and marketing to micro media and marketing are absurd.Mass media thrived on the economics of scarcity. The internet represents an economy of unending abundance.
The audience doesn't imagine that all cars want to be free, or that all toasters want to be free, or that all paper towels want to be free, but it somehow believes that all content wants to be free.
Wenda Harris Millard, co-CEO of Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia: "Advertising simply cannot support all the media that's out there."
The average price of reaching 1,000 households with a 30-second spot in prime time, according to Media Dynamics, has jumped from $8.28 in 1986 to $22.65 in 2008 -- but effectively more like $32, because between 150 and 200 of those 1000 households use DVRs to skip past the ads.
Glenn Britt, CEO of Time Warner Cable: "People are saying, 'All I need is broadband. I don't need video (aka "cable").'"
Rothenberg,president of the Interactive Advertising Bureau, details, "Today the average 14-year-old can create a global television network with applications that are built into her laptop. So from a very strict Econ 101 basis, you have the ability to create virtually unlimited supply against what has been historically relatively stable demand." -- So the biggest online publishers, with all their vast overhead, have no more access to audience than Courtney the eighth-grader.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Auditioning Cold
Often when we conduct auditions, we have the actors come in for a "cold read". Which means that, prior to the audition, they are not given instructions or material. They just show up at the appointed place and time.
However... on Saturday, we held some auditions for background actors to be in our feature film Under Jakob's Ladder. And they were cold.
Not that the auditionees did not get the sides ahead of time. (They did). But weather-wise, it was cold.
And to make matters even more interesting, our audition room was a cold storage unit. (Not actually ON, of course!)
But the sun was shining. It was actually a beautiful day, even it was around 48 degrees outside.
Saturday's audition gave a whole new meaning to "auditioning cold"!
P.S. We saw some really good auditions... Had close to 90 people show up in the course of 3 and a half hours!
However... on Saturday, we held some auditions for background actors to be in our feature film Under Jakob's Ladder. And they were cold.
Not that the auditionees did not get the sides ahead of time. (They did). But weather-wise, it was cold.
And to make matters even more interesting, our audition room was a cold storage unit. (Not actually ON, of course!)
But the sun was shining. It was actually a beautiful day, even it was around 48 degrees outside.
Saturday's audition gave a whole new meaning to "auditioning cold"!
P.S. We saw some really good auditions... Had close to 90 people show up in the course of 3 and a half hours!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Blood in the Movies
Let's say you're making a movie and you need to show blood. What do you use? Maybe some ketchup?
For one of the most famous movie scenes that involve blood -- that'd be Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho -- Bosco chocolate syrup was used. (Hitchcock also filmed the movie in black and white, so it didn't matter that the "blood" wasn't red.)
Assuming you're not doing some sci-fi film where your dying alien happens to have chocolate for blood... what do you do if in fact you do need red blood?
Well, here's a recipe is from the Entertainment Weekly Guide to the Greatest Movies Ever Made (1994 edition)...
Recipe for Blood
-1 bottle of light corn syrup
-generous amount of red food coloring
-smaller amount of yellow food coloring
-1 dash of green and blue food coloring
-optional: heaping spoonful of titanium oxide (powder found in toothpaste); pinch of methyl-Paraben (a preservative)
(Now, here comes the best part of the recipe. The directions...)
Mix until bloody.
P.S. Of course, in a pinch, you can always use ketchup... Yum!
For one of the most famous movie scenes that involve blood -- that'd be Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho -- Bosco chocolate syrup was used. (Hitchcock also filmed the movie in black and white, so it didn't matter that the "blood" wasn't red.)
Assuming you're not doing some sci-fi film where your dying alien happens to have chocolate for blood... what do you do if in fact you do need red blood?
Well, here's a recipe is from the Entertainment Weekly Guide to the Greatest Movies Ever Made (1994 edition)...
Recipe for Blood
-1 bottle of light corn syrup
-generous amount of red food coloring
-smaller amount of yellow food coloring
-1 dash of green and blue food coloring
-optional: heaping spoonful of titanium oxide (powder found in toothpaste); pinch of methyl-Paraben (a preservative)
(Now, here comes the best part of the recipe. The directions...)
Mix until bloody.
P.S. Of course, in a pinch, you can always use ketchup... Yum!
Stian Hafstad on "Nemesis"
What was the nature of the assignment that led you to create Nemesis?
STIAN: Nemesis was the end result of a course we had in scriptwriting. Basically we could write a script about anything we wanted and then the class voted on which ones we wanted to make. There were no specific theme we had to include or genre we had to make.
The script for the film started out with the two bus scenes, the one in the beginning and the one in the end, which is an idea I've had for many years. So I based the rest of the story around those two scenes. I've always been fascinated by the concept of super powers. Mainly because it is so extremely fun in itself, but also because it works so great as a metaphor for so many other things.
I'm also fascinated by male friendship, so I decided not to go with a traditional love story that I might have done. With shows like Friends etc, having strong and close friendships has become an important aspect of being successfull in 21th century. And I'm thinking that it might be hard for someone to stand up and say: "Hey, I'm lonely.. I could use a friend," simply because you'll at once be viewed as a failure. So I came up with an idea of a lonely guy who had that dilemma, but managed to find a way around:)
What was your background in film before you made Nemesis?
STIAN: I'm a third year bachelor degree student at the film and tv-production faculty at the University of Bergen. The two first years we mainly worked on things related to television, so Nemesis is my first live action short film. I've made a couple of animated ones in the past, but nothing worth mentioning.
How long did it take you to shoot the film? And how long did it take to edit it?
STIAN: From the script was ready we had about:
- 6 weeks pre-production
- 5 day to shoot (in other words looong days)
- 2 weeks of editing and about 2-3 weeks after that for sound- and effects work.
Who are your favorite filmmakers and why?
STIAN: Oh boy, there are so many, but I'll mention a few:)
Michel Gondry - His creativity knows no limits
Christopher Nolan - He always seems to do more/bigger/better than what is expected of him
Jean Pierre Jeunet - He paints the most beautiful motion pictures
Trey Parker/Matt Stone - The way they manage to combine intelligent humor and fart jokes in a logical way is simply amazing
STIAN: I'm a third year bachelor degree student at the film and tv-production faculty at the University of Bergen. The two first years we mainly worked on things related to television, so Nemesis is my first live action short film. I've made a couple of animated ones in the past, but nothing worth mentioning.
How long did it take you to shoot the film? And how long did it take to edit it?
STIAN: From the script was ready we had about:
- 6 weeks pre-production
- 5 day to shoot (in other words looong days)
- 2 weeks of editing and about 2-3 weeks after that for sound- and effects work.
Who are your favorite filmmakers and why?
STIAN: Oh boy, there are so many, but I'll mention a few:)
Michel Gondry - His creativity knows no limits
Christopher Nolan - He always seems to do more/bigger/better than what is expected of him
Jean Pierre Jeunet - He paints the most beautiful motion pictures
Trey Parker/Matt Stone - The way they manage to combine intelligent humor and fart jokes in a logical way is simply amazing
What did you learn from making the film that you'll take to your next project?
STIAN: The one thing I swore was that:
If I ever was to make another student film with no budget, I would write a script that didn't include any male characters between 25 and 60. You see because of our budget situation we couldn't afford to pay the actors, so we had to find actors who were interested in doing it for free. The problem was that most men in that age have jobs, so it was hard finding anyone who had the opportunity to do it. Almost gave me gray hairs:)
STIAN: The one thing I swore was that:
If I ever was to make another student film with no budget, I would write a script that didn't include any male characters between 25 and 60. You see because of our budget situation we couldn't afford to pay the actors, so we had to find actors who were interested in doing it for free. The problem was that most men in that age have jobs, so it was hard finding anyone who had the opportunity to do it. Almost gave me gray hairs:)
Luckily about a week before the shoot we got in touch with Trond Gil, who plays the main character, and Anders McAuley, who plays the Nemesis. They were so generous with their time and did such a terrific job acting that I don't think it could have turned out any better no matter how much money we would have had. I'm so greatfull for their effort.
The funny thing is: when I wrote the script for my graduation film, which is in production now, I made it about therapy group with 8 male characters between 25 and 60.. So I've spent the last 1.5 months calling every actor and non-actor in Bergen, handing out notes on the street etc. But it ended up allrigt there too, and we got the people we needed.
So basically what I learned was that as long as the passion to tell the story is big enough, and I'm willing to just keep going, everything else always seems to fall into place (sort of).
The funny thing is: when I wrote the script for my graduation film, which is in production now, I made it about therapy group with 8 male characters between 25 and 60.. So I've spent the last 1.5 months calling every actor and non-actor in Bergen, handing out notes on the street etc. But it ended up allrigt there too, and we got the people we needed.
So basically what I learned was that as long as the passion to tell the story is big enough, and I'm willing to just keep going, everything else always seems to fall into place (sort of).
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
The Future Of Film
Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't have the answer as to what the future of film is.
A lot of people though do have some good ideas as what the future may hold and what it is needed, from the small step to the big picture. I got to sit down with a nice group of very smart people while I was at SXSW and talk a bit about what I might be. Scott Kirsner who organized the breakfast has put the whole conversation up on his blog. The other participants are:
filmmaker Lance Weiler
conference organizer and producer Liz Rosenthal
technologist Brian Chirls
outreach guru Caitlin Boyle
filmmaker Brett Gaylor
producer and Filmmaker Mag editor Scott Macaulay
Labels:
Brett Gaylor,
Brin Chirls,
Ciatlin Boyle,
Lance Weiler,
Liz Rosenthal,
Scott Kirsner,
Scott Macauley,
SXSW
Monday, March 16, 2009
NKVD and Alphabet Soup
Chances are, you have probably never heard of the NKVD. (And if you have, well, that's a couple 100 points for you.)
So... What or who were the NKVD?
In Russian, NKVD stands for the People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs. (That's a big help, right?!)
Okay, let's put it this way. Ever heard of the KGB? The easiest way to describe the NKVD is to tell you that they eventually became what we know today as the KGB. (We'll skip over some details about the GUGB and the GUPVO.)
By now, maybe you think you're swimming in alphabet soup. So, to make the answer even simpler, how about this... The NKVD were the Secret Police.
The Soviet Union in the late 1930s, under Stalin's reign, became a place of paranoia and fear. Neighbor turning in neighbor. Children enticed to betray their parents. The NKVD were the guys that knocked on your door at midnight to ransack your house and arrest you as "an enemy of the people."
The NKVD were the ones who ran the Gulags (forced labor camps). They were adept at using torture to get confessions, and infamous for their mass executions.
That's reason enough for why these guys were feared. In fact, they often didn't trust one another. It wasn't that rare for an NKVD operative to suddenly find himself a prisoner (or dead).
There's an old joke that goes like this:
So, why are we telling you this? Because the NKVD play such an important part in our film, Under Jakob's Ladder. In fact, come to think of it, if there had been no such thing as the NKVD... we wouldn't have a movie... Or at least, it'd have to be a different movie.
So... What or who were the NKVD?
In Russian, NKVD stands for the People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs. (That's a big help, right?!)
Okay, let's put it this way. Ever heard of the KGB? The easiest way to describe the NKVD is to tell you that they eventually became what we know today as the KGB. (We'll skip over some details about the GUGB and the GUPVO.)
By now, maybe you think you're swimming in alphabet soup. So, to make the answer even simpler, how about this... The NKVD were the Secret Police.
The Soviet Union in the late 1930s, under Stalin's reign, became a place of paranoia and fear. Neighbor turning in neighbor. Children enticed to betray their parents. The NKVD were the guys that knocked on your door at midnight to ransack your house and arrest you as "an enemy of the people."
The NKVD were the ones who ran the Gulags (forced labor camps). They were adept at using torture to get confessions, and infamous for their mass executions.
That's reason enough for why these guys were feared. In fact, they often didn't trust one another. It wasn't that rare for an NKVD operative to suddenly find himself a prisoner (or dead).
There's an old joke that goes like this:
Q: Why do NKVD men always come in threes?
A: One to write a report, one to read it, and one to check up on the two intellectuals.
So, why are we telling you this? Because the NKVD play such an important part in our film, Under Jakob's Ladder. In fact, come to think of it, if there had been no such thing as the NKVD... we wouldn't have a movie... Or at least, it'd have to be a different movie.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Peter Broderick's Distribution Bulletin
Few have done as much to articulate the new paradigm as Peter Broderick. Step by step he's been laying it out clearly for filmmakers to walk away from the corporate grip and make it work for themselves. If you want to be free to tell stories on any subject in any manner, you have to change your way of thinking. A regular dose of Peter's wisdom helps us all keep a clear head.
My only complaint is Peter doesn't publish his Distribution Bulletin as frequently as I would like to read it. Luckily, a new edition just hit the internet so we can all calm down for a day or two. This issue Peter tells us of the The Age Of Stupid and the their crowd-funding model. Don't miss it.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Peter Rudy on "No Sleep 'til Madison"
How did you get interested in filmmaking?
PETER RUDY: I think it was the collaborative nature of filmmaking that first attracted me. I had just finished a two year stint at the Writers Workshop in Iowa City when my first screenwriting opportunity arose, and I was eager to work with a group of people who would hold me to a deadline. Fiction writing is a might lonely endeavor, especially when you're telling everyone you're working on a novel when you're actually spending every waking moment playing Sega hockey.
What had you worked on before No Sleep 'Til Madison?
PETER RUDY: When I moved to San Francisco, I met filmmaker Matt Leutwyler, who was a friend of my girlfriend. He was in post-production on one film, Road Kill with Jennifer Rubin, and in pre-production on his next one, This Space Between Us with Jeremy Sisto and Poppy Montgomery. Needless to say, he was exhausted.
He had decided that Road Kill needed a voiceover, but was too burned out to write it himself, so he asked if I wanted to take a crack at it. Given that I was working at B. Dalton at the time for $5.25 per hour, I said yes.
It was a great experience, and Matt and I clicked creatively, so we decided to work on the This Space Between Us screenplay together.
The lessons I learned from both those experiences helped out a lot when it came time to work on No Sleep 'til Madison.
You mentioned learning some lessons from your work on Road Kill and This Space Between Us that came in handy while working on No Sleep 'til Madison. Can you elaborate on what you learned?
PETER RUDY: I think the most important thing I took away from my experience with those two films was a better understanding of just how much of a commitment filmmaking demands.
Matt said something to me that I've never forgotten, and that was how you had to be prepared to sacrifice pretty much everything to be successful in this field. Friendships, financial security, a normal life; I watched Matt sacrifice all three in the pursuit of his career, which I don't offer as a judgment but as an observation of just how tough it is to succeed in the move-making business.
Matt's focus never wavered in the time I spent with him, and to be perfectly honest, I think my unwillingness to put so much on the line is one of the main reasons I don't make movies anymore.
What were the three key things (positive or negative) that you learned during the production (and post-production, not counting distribution) of No Sleep 'til Madison?
PETER RUDY: Three things.
ONE: When working with a tiny budget, shoot in your home town, preferably a
Midwestern one not jaded by previous film production experiences. The people and businesses of Madison were extremely accommodating to our endeavor, which helped us save a fortune in location costs, catering, and labor. Take a look at our film credits for No Sleep; it reads like an extended family reunion for the Moe, Knezevic, and Rudy families.
TWO: Don't skimp on the on-screen talent. No Sleep was blessed to have a very talented group of professional actors to take on the major roles. We tried to stretch our production budget by filling in the minor roles with amateurs and/or friends and/or ourselves. It didn't always work. You can add all the lighting and sound design and editing you want, but you can't cover up a bad performance. (Granted, the directors, all three of them, have to take a lot of the heat for that.)
THREE: Wisconsin is one of the few places in the world where you can leave several thousands of dollars worth of camera equipment on the side of a country road, and get a call within an hour from a farmer informing you that has your "missing luggage," and will keep it safe until you can come by his place to retrieve it.
A Producer's Contribution (Part 3 of 3)
Recently on this TrulyFreeFilms blog, Michael Walker of Pangofilms asked why more producers don’t invest in their own movies. This part three of my attempt to answer Michael. Parts One & Two can be linked to at the bottom of this post.
Each movie requires outreach into the aforementioned communities and careful discussion with them to build the audience for the film. My partners and I are lucky in that we have been able to make quite a few films; with each film we forge new relationships with theatre owners, bookers, journalists, festival programmers, and audiences. Each new project asks us to reinvest the relationships we've previously developed. I have no money to invest in my film projects, but I have my history, and personally, I find that priceless.
My experience and my relationships are my capital -- the investment I make in every project I do. To miss that part of the equation is to forget that cinema is an ONGOING dialogue with the audience. It is not a single movie, although with each one we hope to lift that conversation up to a new level of passion, thoughtfulness, and aspiration. Each project we take on requires a considerable investment, one in which the profit will be likely be cultural at best, one in which the profit is still going to leave me wondering how to afford to take on the next movie, although with each new project I will be richer in terms of experience, and hopefully relationships too.
As a producer, we don’t look to make one film or five. I have made close to sixty films now and look to make at least the same amount going forward. Each of these films is a new start up, a new company, and a new product that requires I invest all the profits from my prior work into it -- albeit not financial profit, but the good will that I have built. With each new film I take on, it all is put to risk; my collaborators could jeopardize it all. As I wade through this hazard filled swamp, I have my own ambitions too: I am constantly trying to improve my craft and expand my resources. I grow from working in all genres and budget levels. I grow from working with the new team we assemble for each project. Each director helps me see the world afresh, to recognize that there is no template for creation. And that is my personal profit.
I have mostly made what are called Art Films, but I hope to also make what some will call crass commercial crap. And I hope to continue to make what some will prefer to call pretentious arty farty wank. I hope to make works of truth and honesty and beauty. I want to make the populist crowd pleaser and the radical revolutionary call to arms. In each my investment will come from the alliances that were built on the prior journeys, the swarms of energy from the many, the donations of the devoted and delighted. If I can invest in a film, it will because of the investment in me that others have made. This is one Ponzi scheme that I think benefits not just those that play in it, but those that sit on the sidelines too.
My experience and my relationships are my capital -- the investment I make in every project I do. To miss that part of the equation is to forget that cinema is an ONGOING dialogue with the audience. It is not a single movie, although with each one we hope to lift that conversation up to a new level of passion, thoughtfulness, and aspiration. Each project we take on requires a considerable investment, one in which the profit will be likely be cultural at best, one in which the profit is still going to leave me wondering how to afford to take on the next movie, although with each new project I will be richer in terms of experience, and hopefully relationships too.
As a producer, we don’t look to make one film or five. I have made close to sixty films now and look to make at least the same amount going forward. Each of these films is a new start up, a new company, and a new product that requires I invest all the profits from my prior work into it -- albeit not financial profit, but the good will that I have built. With each new film I take on, it all is put to risk; my collaborators could jeopardize it all. As I wade through this hazard filled swamp, I have my own ambitions too: I am constantly trying to improve my craft and expand my resources. I grow from working in all genres and budget levels. I grow from working with the new team we assemble for each project. Each director helps me see the world afresh, to recognize that there is no template for creation. And that is my personal profit.
I have mostly made what are called Art Films, but I hope to also make what some will call crass commercial crap. And I hope to continue to make what some will prefer to call pretentious arty farty wank. I hope to make works of truth and honesty and beauty. I want to make the populist crowd pleaser and the radical revolutionary call to arms. In each my investment will come from the alliances that were built on the prior journeys, the swarms of energy from the many, the donations of the devoted and delighted. If I can invest in a film, it will because of the investment in me that others have made. This is one Ponzi scheme that I think benefits not just those that play in it, but those that sit on the sidelines too.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Slate Your Name, Please
Ah... Film jargon.
What do you do when you're in an audition situation, and the casting director asks you something like "Please, slate your name" -- and you don't know what they want you to do!?
Well, if you ever find yourself in that scenario, probably the best advice we've heard is to ask what the casting director means. That way, the least amount of time is spent on this and more time can be devoted to your actual audition.
But, to avoid the embarrassment, you may wish to do a little research as to what to expect at a film audition... before you go. (And if you're reading this blog post, then it looks like you're doing exactly that!)
Let's go back to the "slate your name" example.
So, what's a slate? It's that board that is held in front of the camera to identify the scene and the take number -- you know, when they yell out "Scene 17, take 52!" and then slam the clapper down? (If you still don't know what we're talking about, have a look at the photo!)
We're assuming you don't have one of those slates (or clapper boards as they are also called) hiding in your backpack. So, to make things go quickly, you are asked to "slate your name" -- which basically means to say your name aloud for the camera. (Sometimes you'll also be asked to slate your telephone number, or the character you are reading for. But wait for them to give you those instructions if they want you to do so.)
The purpose of slating? So the casting people know who you are and don't get you mixed up with some other actor!
(Oh, and by the way, if you do happen to have one of those clapper boards in your backpack... please leave it there. The casting folks really don't need to see an actual slate when they want you to slate your name. If they did, they'd provide one for you!)
What do you do when you're in an audition situation, and the casting director asks you something like "Please, slate your name" -- and you don't know what they want you to do!?
Well, if you ever find yourself in that scenario, probably the best advice we've heard is to ask what the casting director means. That way, the least amount of time is spent on this and more time can be devoted to your actual audition.
But, to avoid the embarrassment, you may wish to do a little research as to what to expect at a film audition... before you go. (And if you're reading this blog post, then it looks like you're doing exactly that!)
Let's go back to the "slate your name" example.
So, what's a slate? It's that board that is held in front of the camera to identify the scene and the take number -- you know, when they yell out "Scene 17, take 52!" and then slam the clapper down? (If you still don't know what we're talking about, have a look at the photo!)
We're assuming you don't have one of those slates (or clapper boards as they are also called) hiding in your backpack. So, to make things go quickly, you are asked to "slate your name" -- which basically means to say your name aloud for the camera. (Sometimes you'll also be asked to slate your telephone number, or the character you are reading for. But wait for them to give you those instructions if they want you to do so.)
The purpose of slating? So the casting people know who you are and don't get you mixed up with some other actor!
(Oh, and by the way, if you do happen to have one of those clapper boards in your backpack... please leave it there. The casting folks really don't need to see an actual slate when they want you to slate your name. If they did, they'd provide one for you!)
A Producer's Contribution (Part 2 of 3)
Recently on this TrulyFreeFilms blog, Michael Walker of Pangofilms asked why more producers don’t invest in their own movies. This is part two on my attempt to answer Michael.
Walker’s question of why producers don’t invest in their movies brings us back to the perennial problem that most people think that producing is just about raising the money. The first film that I raised the financing for was Hal Hartley’s FLIRT, even though I had already produced about ten films by then. Producing has always been about making the best movie possible and making sure that the audience for it, sees it. The money part of the equation is just the steps needed to get to the making part.
It seems like until the late ‘80’s producing was solely the province of the wealthy and privileged. Up until then it also seemed like those that could pursue producing in this country, had to do it the Hollywood way – which meant that if you succeeded presumably you quickly became more wealthy and privileged. Producing will never be a secure profession in America, but it is open to those who are willing to work at it and have something to offer – not just the wealthy and privileged.
I don’t have money to offer – and never expect to – but my partners and I do make considerable investments in all our films. When we consider taking on a new project, we anticipate it will be a three-year commitment at the very least. Although we have had projects like AMERICAN SPLENDOR that only go through a few drafts (and go on to get nominated for the Academy Award), we also figure that each project will have a minimum of fifteen drafts. Some have forty or more. Each draft represent reading time, discussion, notes, and generally a fair amount of emotion. The scripts themselves require research through books, websites, and other movies -- more time, more energy, and more thought. Even AMERICAN SPLENDOR was something that I had spent years developing before I brought to the writers, having already shot footage on Harvey & Joyce, secured the Letterman tapes, committed to a hybrid structure, and decided on the central theme of the project -- when Bob & Shari walked into the office they were like a dream come true, the perfect peg to fill the hole: a couple who had written bio pics and made docs on off-center pop culture.
A producer gets no glory for the films they create and make. A producer’s name is rarely recalled for the work that others have enjoyed. A producer is the one that each side looks to for solutions, and thus one that has to sacrifice to bring satisfaction. When the film works, it has no bearing for the producer on future rewards, as it will the actors, directors, and writers. When things go well for a producer, it means more people seek them out, more people expect them to pick up the tab. The producers I know are creative collaborators who put their heart and soul into their projects, but never achieve the ownership that might lift their savings into real levels of security.
The demands on a producer don’t change due to their limited finances however. Each project is also a relationship, or rather several. The filmmakers, investors, and collaborators all have real needs and need thoughtful attention. The forays that we make to investors, cast, crew, distributors, critics, and fans all depend on different relationships that we have put considerable time and effort into. If we are going to survive, theses other relationships will need to extend far past the singular film. How well we service these relationships will directly reflect what fruit we can bring to subsequent projects. Each new film is a risk, where all this historic good will, this capital we have raised, is tested and re-valued.
It seems like until the late ‘80’s producing was solely the province of the wealthy and privileged. Up until then it also seemed like those that could pursue producing in this country, had to do it the Hollywood way – which meant that if you succeeded presumably you quickly became more wealthy and privileged. Producing will never be a secure profession in America, but it is open to those who are willing to work at it and have something to offer – not just the wealthy and privileged.
I don’t have money to offer – and never expect to – but my partners and I do make considerable investments in all our films. When we consider taking on a new project, we anticipate it will be a three-year commitment at the very least. Although we have had projects like AMERICAN SPLENDOR that only go through a few drafts (and go on to get nominated for the Academy Award), we also figure that each project will have a minimum of fifteen drafts. Some have forty or more. Each draft represent reading time, discussion, notes, and generally a fair amount of emotion. The scripts themselves require research through books, websites, and other movies -- more time, more energy, and more thought. Even AMERICAN SPLENDOR was something that I had spent years developing before I brought to the writers, having already shot footage on Harvey & Joyce, secured the Letterman tapes, committed to a hybrid structure, and decided on the central theme of the project -- when Bob & Shari walked into the office they were like a dream come true, the perfect peg to fill the hole: a couple who had written bio pics and made docs on off-center pop culture.
A producer gets no glory for the films they create and make. A producer’s name is rarely recalled for the work that others have enjoyed. A producer is the one that each side looks to for solutions, and thus one that has to sacrifice to bring satisfaction. When the film works, it has no bearing for the producer on future rewards, as it will the actors, directors, and writers. When things go well for a producer, it means more people seek them out, more people expect them to pick up the tab. The producers I know are creative collaborators who put their heart and soul into their projects, but never achieve the ownership that might lift their savings into real levels of security.
The demands on a producer don’t change due to their limited finances however. Each project is also a relationship, or rather several. The filmmakers, investors, and collaborators all have real needs and need thoughtful attention. The forays that we make to investors, cast, crew, distributors, critics, and fans all depend on different relationships that we have put considerable time and effort into. If we are going to survive, theses other relationships will need to extend far past the singular film. How well we service these relationships will directly reflect what fruit we can bring to subsequent projects. Each new film is a risk, where all this historic good will, this capital we have raised, is tested and re-valued.
Save NY Film & TV Tax Credits! Albany Rally Today
I should of posted this days ago, but as today was day that was already filled with commitments I knew I couldn't go, but if one of you reading this blog decides to go, I will feel a whole lot better. So please, if you can, drop what you are doing, rsvp as directed below, get on the bus, and tell our representatives what you think.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009 11:00 AM - 1:00 PM
Location: Lincoln Park, Albany, NY
Street Address: Corner of Park Avenue and South Swan Street (Map)
The event basically breaks down as follows:
11am - Truck Rally
Noon - Press Conference
The press conference will be taking place on the West Capitol steps, which is approximately a 15-minute walk from Lincoln Park.
Location: Lincoln Park, Albany, NY
Street Address: Corner of Park Avenue and South Swan Street (Map)
The event basically breaks down as follows:
11am - Truck Rally
Noon - Press Conference
The press conference will be taking place on the West Capitol steps, which is approximately a 15-minute walk from Lincoln Park.
Buses will be leaving for Albany from two mid-town Manhattan locations (42nd St & 3rd Av, and 33rd St & 8th Av), and one Brooklyn location (Steiner Studios). The buses leave at 6am sharp.
The buses are free and there is also free parking at Steiner. However, you must RSVP to Rachel Weiser (info below) if you are planning on traveling on one of the buses.
The buses are free and there is also free parking at Steiner. However, you must RSVP to Rachel Weiser (info below) if you are planning on traveling on one of the buses.
Buses will be headed back to NYC from Albany at 2pm from Lincoln Park.
If you are driving to the event separately - please get there at 11am. There will be parking at Lincoln Park.
If you are driving to the event separately - please get there at 11am. There will be parking at Lincoln Park.
We encourage all to attend this event.
For more information, please contact the on-site coordinator, Rachel Weiser at:
rachelweiser@yostgoldconsulting.com
(512) 497-7492
For more information, please contact the on-site coordinator, Rachel Weiser at:
rachelweiser@yostgoldconsulting.com
(512) 497-7492
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
A Producer's Contribution (Part 1 of 3)
Recently on my TrulyFreeFilms blog, Michael Walker of Pangofilms asked why more producers don’t invest in their own movies.
This question first assumes that there are producers who could even afford to consider this possibility. Right now, when it comes to financial matters, I don’t know of any producers that aren’t first and foremost concerned about their immediate survival (even the concern of long term survival now looks like a luxury). The business once supported prolific quality producers with overhead deals, but those days are now dead and gone. A financial investment in a movie is not something most producers can afford.
I have made financial investments in my films, but mostly in terms of bridge loans and never with any reward for it. Usually the director didn’t even know I was doing it. And once I got burned and came very close to watching it spiral and thus losing a great deal more as a result. I have also “invested” in filmmakers I believed in, whether to help them complete their movie, or just to survive, but never in a structure that had expectation for financial reward -- more as a friend or family member would. But generally, the reason why, as a Producer, I haven’t invested financially in my projects, is because I, like most producers, can’t afford to. Sad to break it to you, but Indie Film producing is not a lucrative profession. We don’t do it for the money honey.
To be frank, I think investing in films is counter to what a producer should be doing. Investors generally are looking for a financial return, albeit one that contributes something to the culture too. A director is trying to make their movie. A producer has to balance these multiple interests. One of the most difficult things about producing is making sure all collaborators share a common agenda. As much as folks claim to be on the same page, their behavior frequently betrays this goal. The director and the financier both need to know the producer is looking out for their diverse interests.
Producers have a fiscal responsibility to their movie, but it is not their only responsibility. I am surprised that a director would want a producer who by way of their investment was declaring the fiscal responsibility their primary one. I would be surprised that investors would want to go forward without someone to balance their needs with that of the director’s. How would such an investor ever get a great film? Unfortunately, a film’s financial success is dependent on far many things beyond the quality of the script, so even if the producer who developed it had infinitely deep pockets, the intersection of art and commerce would create an imbalance of power. Movies thankfully will never just be about these interests; it is the blend that really makes each film find new heights.
This question first assumes that there are producers who could even afford to consider this possibility. Right now, when it comes to financial matters, I don’t know of any producers that aren’t first and foremost concerned about their immediate survival (even the concern of long term survival now looks like a luxury). The business once supported prolific quality producers with overhead deals, but those days are now dead and gone. A financial investment in a movie is not something most producers can afford.
I have made financial investments in my films, but mostly in terms of bridge loans and never with any reward for it. Usually the director didn’t even know I was doing it. And once I got burned and came very close to watching it spiral and thus losing a great deal more as a result. I have also “invested” in filmmakers I believed in, whether to help them complete their movie, or just to survive, but never in a structure that had expectation for financial reward -- more as a friend or family member would. But generally, the reason why, as a Producer, I haven’t invested financially in my projects, is because I, like most producers, can’t afford to. Sad to break it to you, but Indie Film producing is not a lucrative profession. We don’t do it for the money honey.
To be frank, I think investing in films is counter to what a producer should be doing. Investors generally are looking for a financial return, albeit one that contributes something to the culture too. A director is trying to make their movie. A producer has to balance these multiple interests. One of the most difficult things about producing is making sure all collaborators share a common agenda. As much as folks claim to be on the same page, their behavior frequently betrays this goal. The director and the financier both need to know the producer is looking out for their diverse interests.
Producers have a fiscal responsibility to their movie, but it is not their only responsibility. I am surprised that a director would want a producer who by way of their investment was declaring the fiscal responsibility their primary one. I would be surprised that investors would want to go forward without someone to balance their needs with that of the director’s. How would such an investor ever get a great film? Unfortunately, a film’s financial success is dependent on far many things beyond the quality of the script, so even if the producer who developed it had infinitely deep pockets, the intersection of art and commerce would create an imbalance of power. Movies thankfully will never just be about these interests; it is the blend that really makes each film find new heights.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Trouble with Scheduling
Scheduling a film shoot...
This can be one of the more grueling--and dreaded--tasks in pre-production (those weeks leading up to the actual film shoot).
When creating a schedule, not only does the script have to be broken down and organized into scenes, but cast availability has to be taken into account. And what about locations? Remember you have to get the camera, lights, sound gear, crew, etc. to each new location.
And then there are the predictions as to how long it will take to film a particular scene. How many scenes can be done in a day? How many special camera shots need to be set up? Most movies shoot about 2-3 minutes of final footage in a day. (Note: On our film Dear J, we shot 10 minutes of final footage a day! Yes, we did it. We were exhausted. Is it any wonder that we're giving ourselves a little more time on this next film project?)
Take a look at the photo above and you'll see four schedules for Under Jakob's Ladder, all created within less than a week of each other. (And these are just the ones that were printed out!)
Each schedule is slightly altered as scenes are shifted from one day to another--and sometimes back again!. It's enough to cause a sustained headache.
So, take a tylenol. Go to bed. Wake up refreshed to go at it another day.
But, keep in mind, that on the film set, that schedule will probably change anyway!
This can be one of the more grueling--and dreaded--tasks in pre-production (those weeks leading up to the actual film shoot).
When creating a schedule, not only does the script have to be broken down and organized into scenes, but cast availability has to be taken into account. And what about locations? Remember you have to get the camera, lights, sound gear, crew, etc. to each new location.
And then there are the predictions as to how long it will take to film a particular scene. How many scenes can be done in a day? How many special camera shots need to be set up? Most movies shoot about 2-3 minutes of final footage in a day. (Note: On our film Dear J, we shot 10 minutes of final footage a day! Yes, we did it. We were exhausted. Is it any wonder that we're giving ourselves a little more time on this next film project?)
Take a look at the photo above and you'll see four schedules for Under Jakob's Ladder, all created within less than a week of each other. (And these are just the ones that were printed out!)
Each schedule is slightly altered as scenes are shifted from one day to another--and sometimes back again!. It's enough to cause a sustained headache.
So, take a tylenol. Go to bed. Wake up refreshed to go at it another day.
But, keep in mind, that on the film set, that schedule will probably change anyway!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Save NY Film & TV Nexo Group
I have been wanting to explore Nexo, and now have the perfect reason to do so -- thanks to Derek Yip. Derek's started a "Save NY Film & TV" social network on Nexo. To join, go here:
http://savenewyorkfilmandtv.nexo.com/
This group was established to be a resource for updates on the latest developments and organizational efforts to save the production tax incentives for motion picture industry in New York State and New York City. Now that we understand how vital the incentives are to our livelihood, hopefully this group can be a unified front to call for transparency and accountability in the incentive programs and to further educate ourselves about them.
01. Although not mandatory, we hope all new members will briefly introduce themselves. This is so we can understand what kind of a stake you have in the future of New York's economy.
02. Posts here should be on the topic of the New York production incentives and how it relates to New York's economy. Although it's fine to reference your projects in relation to this, please refrain from blatant promotion of your projects, your company, job offers, job requests, or links to such. Links to articles covering the latest news on the production incentives are encouraged.
03. Lively discussion and intelligent debate is welcome, but please refrain from ad hominem attacks. Please carefully proof and re-read what you are about to send before posting out to the group.
04. If you haven't done so, you are encouraged to go to the following link and sign: http://www.petitiononline.com/Zablocki/
05. Write and mail letters to your elected officials for an additional impact:
• Download a template for your letter:
http://trevanna.com/nypa/images/misc/crew_letter_2009.doc
• Write to Governor Paterson:
http://www.ny.gov/governor/contact/index.html
• Write to your Assemblyperson:
http://assembly.state.ny.us/mem/
• Write to your Senator:
http://www.senate.state.ny.us/senatehomepage.nsf/senators?OpenForm
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Facebook Killed TV
"Why TV Lost" is an excellent article by Paul Graham on why broadcast lost to the internet and computers.
What decided the contest for computers? Four forces, three of which one could have predicted, and one that would have been harder to.Graham captures the appeal of piracy, which is not because it is free:
The third reason computers won is piracy. Users prefer it not just because it's free, but because it's more convenient. Bittorrent and YouTube have already trained a new generation of viewers that the place to watch shows is on a computer screen.He states in very simple terms what misconceptions industry leaders have long held about their industry and what the internet offers as an alternative:
Whether they (the television industry) like it or not, big changes are coming, because the Internet dissolves the two cornerstones of broadcast media: synchronicity and locality. On the Internet, you don't have to send everyone the same signal, and you don't have to send it to them from a local source. People will watch what they want when they want it, and group themselves according to whatever shared interest they feel most strongly.Give it read. It's worth the visit.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Take A Lesson From The Master
It seems to be pretty much the gospel now that Slumdog could never have rewritten the rules as it has without Searchlight's help. Everyone marvels at their marketing campaigns, and how well they work. People say they've trademarked color, to the point if you use a bold singular shade in your campaign, folks feel you've copped a page from Ms. Utley.
Titles are always a difficult thing in the positioning of a film. Posters however make titles look easy. When our films are handled by one of the top distributors we often see over 100 different mock-ups. And it's rare that by the time a choice is made, I frequently feel we made a wrong decision, or rather never found the answer. One of the real challenges is finding a poster that not only serves the campaign in terms of positioning the film and enhancing desire to see it, but also serves the test of time and rests comfortably on the wall years later.
All the tests though are compounded when you have little or no funds like most indie filmmakers. I recently posted on TheNextGoodIdea about CrowdSpring where you offer a prize and hold a contest among designers to see who will make the best poster (or logo or whatever). It certainly is a good way to get a lot of interesting ideas. Searchlight, the undisputed master, takes up one notch with their campaign for 500 DAYS OF SUMMER. They are using the multiple images to increase pre-release buzz by holding a poll regarding four different posters, apparently pulling the audience into the process, and cementing allegiance to some degree in the process.
The contest for a final image campaign seems like something all indie filmmakers should put in their playbook. When would be the right time to run it? Seems to me that if your film has played one of the major film festivals and garnered some good attention, right before the next big festival would be the ideal time. Hey, isn't that exactly what Searchlight is doing? 500DOS played Sundance and will soon be screened at SxSW and now the SL poster poll is go. Which basically means that if you are going to have 4 images to select you need to start to get them in at least a month prior to first fest screening.
Labels:
500 Days Of Summer,
CrowdSpring,
Marketing,
posters,
Seachlight
Thursday, March 5, 2009
On This Day: Death of Stalin
The photo to the right is the death mask of Joseph Stalin. Today is the anniversary of his death on March 5, 1953.
The BBC summed up his life in this way:
The BBC summed up his life in this way:
"One of the most powerful and murderous dictators in history, Stalin was the supreme ruler of the Soviet Union for a quarter of a century. His regime of terror caused the death and suffering of tens of millions, but he also oversaw the war machine that played a key role in the defeat of Nazism."One of our historical consultants on our feature film, Under Jakob's Ladder, put it this way in his blog today:
"[Stalin's] regime killed millions in man made famines, firing squads, labor camps and special settlements. Only Hitler and Mao had comparable records of mass murder in the 20th century."Yes, Stalin was in power at the time when our movie, Under Jakob's Ladder, is set. He was the one who created an atmosphere of fear and paranoia that filled up the Soviet prison system. Our movie takes place in one of those prisons...
Indie Film Lobbying In DC
I wasn't aware of this until it was too late, but there has been a fair amount of inquiry within the community about how we can build better relationships with our representatives. There's probably never been a more critical time or an important one than now for a host of reasons. There are critical issues being decided. The MPAA has had it's budget cut by $20M! Although the studios' issues sometimes conflict with the indies, generally we have all greatly benefited by their lobbying efforts.
Lloyd Kaufman of Troma films brought this apparently annual summit to my attention (after a tip from Peri!) via Facebook. Unfortunately it was yesterday.
“Filmmakers on the Hill” -
Location: Capitol Hill – Rayburn Building Room 2203
Organized in association with the Office of Congresswoman Diane E. Watson, Hosted by the Congressional Entertainment Industries Caucus
Filmmakers come have your Mr. Smith moment. Formerly known as Advocacy Day, this Forum provides leading industry, legal and government experts the opportunity to discuss key issues that impact the independent film and media industry. In the past the panels covered varied subjects including: How to stimulate independent film production in the U.S.; creative new solutions for filmmakers struggling with financing, distribution issues and copyright licensing issues; new international financing opportunities and the role of governments in film production. DCIFF 2009 marks an expanded program with prominent speakers in two consecutive interactive panel sessions. This is a unique opportunity to hear concerns about the state of the independent film industry in the U.S..
9am - Meet & Greet – Meet your government representatives and other filmmakers.
10:00 - 11:15am: Session I:
A discussion of the ways in which American independent film strengthens the U.S. economy both domestically and abroad and how it is integral to the artistic and cultural profile of the United States. This industry is also an incubator for forward-looking digital innovation and technological advances. Considering its economic impact and cultural breadth in the global digital era, can legislation protect and nourish independent filmmaking and media? Data and research will be presented.
11:30am. – 1:00pm: Session II:
The challenges of making independent filmmaking sustainable by discussing options, incentives and realities under the umbrella of small business, taxes, distribution and location production costs. In particular, independent filmmaking is a potential engine of small business growth. The discussion will take on existing issues and creative ways of conceptualizing independent filmmaking in the context of state government involvement and incentives.
Kelly Masterson on "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead"
What was going on in your writing career before you started Before the Devil Knows You're Dead?
KELLY MASTERSON: Nothing. My career was dead in the water. I was working at a bank in Manhattan.
I had started as a playwright in the late 80’s and had limited success. By the late 90’s, I had adapted one of my plays (Into the Light) for Hallmark but it did not get produced.
I wrote Devil in 1999 and it was my first original screenplay. The script was optioned by a succession of producers but I had lost hope by 2006 after several false starts.
I got a call out of the blue from the producers (Michael Cerenzie and Brian Linse) that the project was a go. They had Sidney Lumet on board to direct. The entire cast was in place – Philip Seymour Hoffman, Albert Finney, Ethan Hawke and Marisa Tomei. I was totally shocked.
I got that call on May 16th and they started shooting on July 10, 2006. I had no time to react. I quit my job at the bank as soon as the money cleared.
What was the inspiration for Before the Devil Knows You're Dead?
KELLY MASTERSON: I had read a novel I admired called Reservation Road by John Burnham Schwarz. I really liked the structure. It involved a terrible incident followed by an examination of the incident from the point of view of the various participants. I thought it would make an interesting structure for a movie.
I invented my terrible incident: the robbery and shooting of the mother. Then I took each character and followed them to and from the incident.
I also knew it was a tragedy and purposely gave each of the main characters a tragic “flaw” – obsessive behavior they cannot break. For example, the father becomes obsessed with the notion of revenge and cannot stop himself even when he discovers it is his own son who must wreak revenge upon. Devil was the result of my structure and character choices.
Were you involved in any re-writing before or during the production?
KELLY MASTERSON: Fortunately, and unfortunately, no. The good news is I didn’t have to rewrite the script based on someone else’s vision or ideas. I wrote the script and tweaked it here and there over the years. Sidney did a rewrite to get his final shooting script but I was not involved nor consulted. I wish he would have come to me and asked me to make the changes he wanted. The end result, though, is terrific and I am very proud of the movie.
What surprised you most about the transition from script to screen?
KELLY MASTERSON: Lots of things surprised me and most of them pleasantly. I was surprised by the casting of Brian F. O’Byrne as Bobby, the punk accomplice. I had written the part as a 22 year old, stupid kid. I had see Brian on stage in Doubt and thought him remarkably gifted but not right for Bobby. His performance, however, is spectacular and casting a 35 year old made him more pathetic and frightening. It was a stroke of genius on Sidney’s part.
I was surprised by the remarkable restraint and outer calm Phillip brought to Andy’s breakdown late in the film. I wrote a cliché scene in which Andy trashes his apartment. Sidney and Philip came up with an eerie, fascinating, slow meltdown that is so much better. Most of all, I was most surprised by the deep, rich, tense and painful relationship between Hank and Andy – Sidney’s rewrite and the performances of Philip and Ethan took this to a level that surprised and enthralled me.
What did you learn in the process of writing Before the Devil Knows You're Dead that you'll take with you to other projects?
KELLY MASTERSON: Raise the stakes. I don’t mean, put the hero in more jeopardy or add a ticking clock. I mean dig deeper – make it more personal and more emotionally significant. Get right into the guts of the characters. While I often try to pull my characters in two or more directions, I think Sidney’s contribution took my material into richer psychological territory. This gave the wonderful actors great stuff to work with in which the emotional stakes were very high. When I am working on projects now, I ask myself the question: how do I get further into this character and really rock him?
What advice would you give to screenwriters who are still struggling to get their work seen and (hopefully) produced?
KELLY MASTERSON: Don’t give up. I wrote for 20 years before Devil got made. And find your voice. I tried for many years to imitate others or to write in “commercial” genres and did not have any success. I wrote Devil from some original place within myself and never dreamed it would get made, let alone succeed. Keep at it.
Fathom & Cinedigm: reinventing cinema entertainment
Tuesday's post on A POWERFUL NOISE introduced me to Fathom. It seems like a great service but I have no idea about the pricing. I am curious to hear more from folks that have used it.
From Fathom's website:
Fathom, the entertainment division of National CineMedia (NCM), is reinventing the who, what, when, where and how of cinema entertainment. It’s a revolutionary concept that uses NCM’s vast nationwide Digital Content Network to deliver truly one-of-a-kind entertainment events — all showcased in amazing High Definition with Cinema Surround Sound — to movie theatre audiences across North America. And each benefits from extensive marketing support.
Working directly with the country’s leading entertainment producers, Fathom offers unique marketing and distribution opportunities for highly coveted programming: live concerts, theatrical and DVD premieres, live broadcasts from The New York Metropolitan Opera, sports events, exclusive stand-up comedy engagements and much more.
The Digital Content Network is comprised of more than 14,500 digital screens, with 75% of the screens in the top 49 markets. This puts well over half of US households within 10 miles of the theatres, including Regal Cinemas, United Artists, Edwards Theatres, AMC Theatres, Cinemark/Century, Clearview Cinemas, Kerasotes Theatres, Goodrich Quality Theaters, Hoyts Theatres, Marcus Theatres, Malco Theatres, National Amusements Theatres and Georgia Theatre Company. Additionally, Fathom has limited distribution in local performing arts centers and theatres in specific markets.
Fathom’s technical staff receives, tests, encrypts and digests source content for seamless playback over the network to all participating theatres’ auditoriums. Each auditorium is tested for optimum audio and visual presentation prior to event day. Plus, Fathom has a dedicated “event management” department that manages all troubleshooting before, during and after the event to ensure its success.It's mostly been opera, concerts, and anime so far, but they have also presented This American Life and a live event with the film IOUSA. The full list is here.
Another similar service is Cinedigm, which to date seems to have focused solely on live events.
Michael Walker over at PangoFilms just tipped me to this announcement in BusinessWeek that says that focus is about to change. They have just done a distribution pact with Olympus Pictures for some indie films. Things a be a changin'...
Labels:
Cinedigm,
exhibition,
Fathom,
Olympus Films,
PangoFilms
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Register Your Work: Fair Share
Fair Share allows you to track your work and make sure it is being used by others in the manner that you've permitted -- via Creative Commons. It's a smart new idea that I first posted on InfoWantsToBeFree.
Who Is Making Additional Material For Their Features?
I am not even talking about true transmedia work with developed story lines and expanded narratives; I am just wondering what examples are out there of additional material that has been used by filmmakers, mainstream and the indie DIY side both, to help bring audiences to the films.
Rainn Wilson tweeted about the shorts he did with Slash for The Rocker a few days ago, and I checked them out, but at that time, six months after the release less than 300 people had watched them on YouTube.
We have the videos s that Arin & Susan did for Four Eyed Monsters and set the bar for indie film promotion. We have Judd Apatow's Knocked Up skits, and Wes Anderson's short for Darjeeling Express. But what else is there? Why isn't everyone doing it? I would think that it is by now standard practice, but no. It's not truly a money issue because there are lots of ways to do work on the cheap.
On Adventureland, we came up with a couple of short pieces that will soon debut on iTunes and elsewhere, but that was the first time that a studio "let" us do it. I want to do it on every film now, and hopefully scripted well in advance.
Let us know what other examples you've found.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Great Promotion! Great Cause! Hopefully A Great Film.
Mark Wynns hipped me to this campaign via his Tweet. Check this out. They holding the first ever TweetAThon to raise money for CARE and promote the film A POWERFUL NOISE.
You can help fight global poverty on Twitter! Just tweet “#apowerfulnoise” anytime from March 2nd to March 5th, and NCM Fathom will donate $.10 for up to 50,000 Tweets to CARE, an organization working to end global poverty, in honor of the upcoming one-night event featuring the acclaimed documentary A Powerful Noise.
In honor of International Women’s Day on Thursday, March 5th, Fathom Events presents the acclaimed documentary, A Powerful Noise. This exclusive event will be followed by a live panel discussion with top experts and celebrity activists. You can be a part of the discussion by submitting your question for the panel here.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Jamie Stuart On The Evolving World Of DIY
Ted: I reached out to Jamie, and as he explains...
Since my earlier e-mail generated a bit of traffic and comments, Ted asked me if I'd be willing to write a follow-up that addresses some of the subsequent points raised. I won't be commenting directly to any commenters, but in a more generalized manner.
Just to note, though I tend to write in a straightforward manner, I'm not angry with anybody or viewing things in black & white. And while I used my own work and experiences as a viewpoint for much of the preceding entry, I don't want there to be any confusion: Insofar as DIY filmmaking goes, over the past half-dozen years or so, I've been incredibly privileged and lucky. As well, my e-mail to Ted was not "unsolicited" -- I've known Ted for nearly 5 years at this point, as he was one of the first producers to offer to look at one of my screenplays.
Some commenters have been unfamiliar with my work and wondered how it can be seen. My website is The Mutiny Company (www.mutinycompany.com). Most of my web filmmaking has revolved around press opportunities (filmmaker interviews, film festivals), and in using that as a centerpiece, I've then created narrative short films and web series based around these documentary situations, functionally blending reality and staged fiction. This form of filmmaking arose out of plain pragmatism. In 2001, I worked as Jami Bernard's assistant, and from 2002-2004 I co-ran the website MovieNavigator.org, for which I was in charge of interviews and essays. By the time MN ran out of gas, the web was ready for large amounts of streaming video, so I tried to convince the film publicists I knew to let me shoot video interviews. However, at the time, independent cameras were not allowed at junkets and web video was not considered legitimate. This started to change in 2004 when The Film Society of Lincoln Center gave me carte blanche to shoot a 14-part web series from The New York Film Festival. Aside from their house videographer, I was the only other camera regularly shooting at the Walter Reade Theater. That led to a 6-month series in 2005 on Movie City News that expanded the established narrative/press format. In 2006, I started doing videos for Filmmaker Magazine, and in 2007, I began contributing to FilmInFocus. This niche of filmmaking has allowed my work to be posted regularly on many major industry news sites and blogs, guaranteeing a certain level of exposure.
There have been two basic strategies in the initial wave of digital DIY filmmaking -- one group immediately made no-budget features that didn't receive distribution and subsequently went to the web to gain exposure, and the other chose to start on the web to build exposure before making a feature. I belong to the latter category. I think a lot of the feature filmmakers weren't ready yet, either technically or in terms of contacts, and the lack of initial distribution success is a testament to that. While I would love to have made my first feature already, I'd rather be patient about it and do it right than to just do it. In the meantime, I can continue to polish my craft, gain greater exposure and make contacts.
DIY filmmaking has been uniformly revolutionary to the filmmaking process. Nowadays filmmakers can own their entire means of production and distribution: Prosumer cameras, affordable post software and, finally, the internet or DVD as a means of self-distribution. The industry as a whole has offered a surface embrace of this while actively seeking an offensive strategy against it (they talked up user-generated content, but their real agenda was to shift established/signed talent to the web rather than to promote upstarts). One thing that first-gen DIY-ers have invariably influenced is marketing. Personally, I haven't been too impressed by most of the filmmaking itself, but nobody can deny the success of Four Eyed Monsters' use of every social networking tool under the sun or Joe Swanberg's (always denied) mumblecore movement. In both cases, people remember the marketing a lot more than what was being marketed, and the legit industry has imitated and absorbed their techniques.
While the first generation's filmmaking output hasn't been terribly ambitious on the whole, I'd be willing to bet that's going to start changing. The recession is going to force a lot of aspiring filmmakers to fend for themselves rather than working their way up through an industry in a downturn economy. I also think that as more ambitious films start being made and noticed, this approach will no longer be so derided but embraced. You'll start to see more and more that filmmakers and production companies will own their own digital equipment, thus dropping the budgets. Furthermore, the movies produced will start to shed excess weight (crew) and become more stealth in their operations.
In general, I like the idea that filmmaking has become more regional, in that films can now be made anywhere at any time, exposing audiences to places they're unfamiliar with. The reason I refer to what's been going on as "regional folk art" is because most of the examples of regional filmmaking haven't had the ambition to be anything more than slice-of-life films made for niches. In theory, this is a phenomenal development -- filmmaking is down to the pencil and paper. The problem is that in the past aspiring filmmakers sought to impress their idols by displaying a great command of craft, but currently, many filmmakers simply don't have that ambition. I think there's room for both -- and both approaches are important. My point is that one needs to feed off the other; we need breakouts that generate enough attention so audiences are then made aware of the smaller pictures. Right now, we just have the smaller pictures. It's really just a marketing strategy.
While I don't think it's incumbent upon the older generation of indie producers and execs to nurture the younger, I brought that issue up because I think a lot of them really wish they could. I believe that new filmmakers are the lifeblood of indie film. I just think that when the dependent phase opened up, with it went a lot of the so-called community pillars, and there was a chasm left in the nurturing pipeline. Unfortunately, this occurred just as digital DIY filmmaking took off, which further exacerbated the situation by creating a de facto economic gap. Now that the dependent bubble has burst, a lot of veterans have been writing essays about how the indie model is broken. They sound a lot to me like print film critics complaining about younger bloggers -- and we know who's winning that battle.
The generational changeover is happening slowly, but it is happening. People have learned the new landscape on their own, and they'll be fine. The most important thing is for the veterans to learn from the new guys rather than feeling threatened. To me, one of the biggest red flags of disconnect was when Sundance hired established filmmakers to create a series of shorts designed for mobile phones. The whole thing seemed like an attempt to seem up to date. Had they really been on top of things and wanted to promote new formats, they should've picked upcoming indie filmmakers that were already using the web to hold up as examples. As these things go, a shift is already underway at Sundance now.
I actually have a lot of ideas about how to integrate DIY filmmaking into the traditional process and how to promote it and profit from it, but for the time being, as I'm developing some models on my own, I'd prefer not to get into that. Hopefully, sometime soon as I put my ideas to work, I'll be better able to discuss them.
One final note. I don't think that most of us are really that far apart in how we view things. A lot of what's being debated is really semantics. And I appreciate that most of the comments to my initial ramble were civil and respectful. Hopefully, that will continue.
Just to note, though I tend to write in a straightforward manner, I'm not angry with anybody or viewing things in black & white. And while I used my own work and experiences as a viewpoint for much of the preceding entry, I don't want there to be any confusion: Insofar as DIY filmmaking goes, over the past half-dozen years or so, I've been incredibly privileged and lucky. As well, my e-mail to Ted was not "unsolicited" -- I've known Ted for nearly 5 years at this point, as he was one of the first producers to offer to look at one of my screenplays.
Some commenters have been unfamiliar with my work and wondered how it can be seen. My website is The Mutiny Company (www.mutinycompany.com). Most of my web filmmaking has revolved around press opportunities (filmmaker interviews, film festivals), and in using that as a centerpiece, I've then created narrative short films and web series based around these documentary situations, functionally blending reality and staged fiction. This form of filmmaking arose out of plain pragmatism. In 2001, I worked as Jami Bernard's assistant, and from 2002-2004 I co-ran the website MovieNavigator.org, for which I was in charge of interviews and essays. By the time MN ran out of gas, the web was ready for large amounts of streaming video, so I tried to convince the film publicists I knew to let me shoot video interviews. However, at the time, independent cameras were not allowed at junkets and web video was not considered legitimate. This started to change in 2004 when The Film Society of Lincoln Center gave me carte blanche to shoot a 14-part web series from The New York Film Festival. Aside from their house videographer, I was the only other camera regularly shooting at the Walter Reade Theater. That led to a 6-month series in 2005 on Movie City News that expanded the established narrative/press format. In 2006, I started doing videos for Filmmaker Magazine, and in 2007, I began contributing to FilmInFocus. This niche of filmmaking has allowed my work to be posted regularly on many major industry news sites and blogs, guaranteeing a certain level of exposure.
There have been two basic strategies in the initial wave of digital DIY filmmaking -- one group immediately made no-budget features that didn't receive distribution and subsequently went to the web to gain exposure, and the other chose to start on the web to build exposure before making a feature. I belong to the latter category. I think a lot of the feature filmmakers weren't ready yet, either technically or in terms of contacts, and the lack of initial distribution success is a testament to that. While I would love to have made my first feature already, I'd rather be patient about it and do it right than to just do it. In the meantime, I can continue to polish my craft, gain greater exposure and make contacts.
DIY filmmaking has been uniformly revolutionary to the filmmaking process. Nowadays filmmakers can own their entire means of production and distribution: Prosumer cameras, affordable post software and, finally, the internet or DVD as a means of self-distribution. The industry as a whole has offered a surface embrace of this while actively seeking an offensive strategy against it (they talked up user-generated content, but their real agenda was to shift established/signed talent to the web rather than to promote upstarts). One thing that first-gen DIY-ers have invariably influenced is marketing. Personally, I haven't been too impressed by most of the filmmaking itself, but nobody can deny the success of Four Eyed Monsters' use of every social networking tool under the sun or Joe Swanberg's (always denied) mumblecore movement. In both cases, people remember the marketing a lot more than what was being marketed, and the legit industry has imitated and absorbed their techniques.
While the first generation's filmmaking output hasn't been terribly ambitious on the whole, I'd be willing to bet that's going to start changing. The recession is going to force a lot of aspiring filmmakers to fend for themselves rather than working their way up through an industry in a downturn economy. I also think that as more ambitious films start being made and noticed, this approach will no longer be so derided but embraced. You'll start to see more and more that filmmakers and production companies will own their own digital equipment, thus dropping the budgets. Furthermore, the movies produced will start to shed excess weight (crew) and become more stealth in their operations.
In general, I like the idea that filmmaking has become more regional, in that films can now be made anywhere at any time, exposing audiences to places they're unfamiliar with. The reason I refer to what's been going on as "regional folk art" is because most of the examples of regional filmmaking haven't had the ambition to be anything more than slice-of-life films made for niches. In theory, this is a phenomenal development -- filmmaking is down to the pencil and paper. The problem is that in the past aspiring filmmakers sought to impress their idols by displaying a great command of craft, but currently, many filmmakers simply don't have that ambition. I think there's room for both -- and both approaches are important. My point is that one needs to feed off the other; we need breakouts that generate enough attention so audiences are then made aware of the smaller pictures. Right now, we just have the smaller pictures. It's really just a marketing strategy.
While I don't think it's incumbent upon the older generation of indie producers and execs to nurture the younger, I brought that issue up because I think a lot of them really wish they could. I believe that new filmmakers are the lifeblood of indie film. I just think that when the dependent phase opened up, with it went a lot of the so-called community pillars, and there was a chasm left in the nurturing pipeline. Unfortunately, this occurred just as digital DIY filmmaking took off, which further exacerbated the situation by creating a de facto economic gap. Now that the dependent bubble has burst, a lot of veterans have been writing essays about how the indie model is broken. They sound a lot to me like print film critics complaining about younger bloggers -- and we know who's winning that battle.
The generational changeover is happening slowly, but it is happening. People have learned the new landscape on their own, and they'll be fine. The most important thing is for the veterans to learn from the new guys rather than feeling threatened. To me, one of the biggest red flags of disconnect was when Sundance hired established filmmakers to create a series of shorts designed for mobile phones. The whole thing seemed like an attempt to seem up to date. Had they really been on top of things and wanted to promote new formats, they should've picked upcoming indie filmmakers that were already using the web to hold up as examples. As these things go, a shift is already underway at Sundance now.
I actually have a lot of ideas about how to integrate DIY filmmaking into the traditional process and how to promote it and profit from it, but for the time being, as I'm developing some models on my own, I'd prefer not to get into that. Hopefully, sometime soon as I put my ideas to work, I'll be better able to discuss them.
One final note. I don't think that most of us are really that far apart in how we view things. A lot of what's being debated is really semantics. And I appreciate that most of the comments to my initial ramble were civil and respectful. Hopefully, that will continue.
-- Jamie Stuart
Labels:
DIY,
Four Eyed Monsters,
Jamie Stuart,
Joe Swanberg,
Sundance
Camera Moves
For those of you who follow this blog, you already know we're gearing up to shoot our newest film project Under Jakob's Ladder in the spring...
So, that means we're also brushing up on our camera techniques.
We recently discovered this DVD set to help get our creative juices flowing: Hollywood Camera Work -- a 6 DVD "Master Course in High-End Blocking and Staging"...
The makers of this "master course" compile a lot of information in those 6 DVDs. They're very intense. In fact, these DVDs require re-watching several times over since there is so much information to digest.
"It's what you learn after you know it all that counts." (Harry S. Truman, attributed)
And so we keep on learning. In fact, maybe it's about time to pop in one of those DVDs... right now...
So, that means we're also brushing up on our camera techniques.
We recently discovered this DVD set to help get our creative juices flowing: Hollywood Camera Work -- a 6 DVD "Master Course in High-End Blocking and Staging"...
The makers of this "master course" compile a lot of information in those 6 DVDs. They're very intense. In fact, these DVDs require re-watching several times over since there is so much information to digest.
"It's what you learn after you know it all that counts." (Harry S. Truman, attributed)
And so we keep on learning. In fact, maybe it's about time to pop in one of those DVDs... right now...
Audience Building: Social Media Common Sense
Facebook and Twitter may still be trying to figure out how to make money, but what will inevitably be their "common sense" solution, should also all be all filmmakers "best practices". By no means am I encouraging spam, but what the studios pay firms big money to do, anyone with some time on their hands can make a noble effort of themselves.
Isn't listing your favorite film or book an invitation to be contacted when someone has something similar to offer? Say your film is playing at the Ashland Oregon film festival; wouldn't you search the network in that region and then search for folks who liked a similar film as yours? If you were a fan and you got a personal invite from the filmmaker to come check out the film at the festival, wouldn't you be tempted to go? Shouldn't this be standard practices for all filmmakers?
Who is doing this now? How successful is it? What tips do you have for the rest of us?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)