Theatrical: To Do… or NOT To Do.

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Today’s guest post is from Orly Ravid of The Film Collaborative.

Theatrical: To Do… or NOT To Do.
(or perhaps more, HOW and WHEN To Do):

We all struggle with this, filmmakers, distributors alike. I remember giving a presentation to distributors about digital distribution and theatrical came up. I talked about the weirdness of showing a film 5 or 6 times a day to an almost always-empty house save a couple showings. This makes no sense for most films. When I released Baise Moi in 2000 we broke the boxoffice records at the time, and the “raincoat crowd” did show up at the oddest morning hours, but that is the exception, not the rule. Not every film has an 8-minute rape scene that just must be seen by post-punk-feminists and pornography-lovers alike. It’s an odd set-up for smaller films and it’s not the only means to the end we are looking for.

Recently The Film Collaborative released Eyes Wide Open in NYC, LA, Palm Beach and Palm Springs. We have a little over $10,000, all in it will be about $12,000 tops). We have made our money back and the great reviews and extra marketing / visibility will drive ancillary sales but we also did not invest or risk too much as you can see. That is a great formula (one that small, disciplined and seasoned distributors such as First Run Features, Strand, Zeitgeist, employ) but it is not viable for all films. First of all we have an “A” list festival film (Cannes & TIFF & LAFF) and second it caters to two or three niches (gay and Jewish/Israeli) though one can argue that the niches also slightly cancel each other out to some extent, the film did well so obviously the campaign worked.

But there are many films for which that strategy would not work, either theatres could not be booked, or reviews would not always be great, and / or the film would simply not galvanize a theatrical audience. Plus, once you start adding up 4-Wall Fees the bottom line leans more likely to be shades of red. The Quad Cinema sent an E-blast promoting its 4-Wall program. It was a good sales pitch and I am not going into it all here but the take home is that you’re more likely to get a broader theatrical, and/or a distribution deal, and/or picked up by Netflix and other digital platforms if you open theatrically in New York. I would argue that is true to some extent but also VERY MUCH dependent on the FILM itself and there should still be a cost-analysis and overall strategy consideration before one pays the Quad for their services and hopes for the best. Here is a link to the info and we are happy to email the blast to any who request it www.quadcinema4wall.com . It should also be noted that generally speaking, The New York Times does not consider your film among “All the News That is Fit to Print” unless it’s opening wider than just New York.

So how to decide? Companies such as Oscilloscope are all about theatrical but they pick their films carefully and my guess is Adam Yauch can afford to lose money too if it comes to that. Home Video companies such as New Video, and Phase4 are doing some theatrical but on an as-needed basis and yes, to service the ancillary rights, but that’s a very experienced analysis on their part. When we posted on Twitter about the Cable Operators warning they will start requiring a ten (10) city theatrical, all at once, believe me, if everyone blindly follows suit the bar will get raised even higher right until we all go broke. The point is to mitigate the glut and distinguish films in the marketplace not get us all to be lemmings and empty our bank accounts. There is math to be done and I know it’s hard without all the back-end numbers at your disposal but they are coming. We will publish case studies of all our films and we encourage you to get down to the detailed back-end numbers analysis before spending more on the front end and often gratuitously.

We have both experienced and heard about the impact a filmmaker can have in his or her city when working the film and then really impact the gross.. and that is inspiring but usually not long-lasting because it takes a lot to get people to pay to see your film in a theatre when there are so many other films, and so many more marketing dollars behind them. And what’s in it for you? The only reviews that matter are the big ones and we all know what they are… and remember what we said above about The New York Times.

The general perception of indie film releases is interesting. Most don’t take into account the money that is spent to get the “gross”. More of the time the distributor or whomever booked the film gets less than half of the boxoffice revenues. Sometimes as little as 25% – 30% though of course sometimes more. And there are the expenses. The Kids Are Alright may not even be in the black right now but you’d never know that reading certain coverage. I love Exit Through A Gift Shop and actually flagged that release as stellar release and then I learned that the marketing spend was actually a lot more than I realized such that the spend may be up to a million dollars. I don’t actually know, and not sure anyone will tell me. I do know that the bottom line for many of The Weinstein releases was reported to be in the red because of spending. And you know if you have a film that can sell a lot of units and especially in an evergreen manner, and if you can trigger a great TV sales and if you have foreign sales legs than there’s a real upside. If you don’t, then be clear what you’re goals are. Sometimes it’s just a career move and that makes sense. Canadian filmmakers need a theatrical release to get their next projects funded (say that like this: ‘pro-jects’). Sometimes people just want that awards qualification and that’s another ballgame.

We have written some of our TFC Distribution Tid Bits about Hybrid Theatrical and Marketing options but here is a bit more on the topic:

If creating buzz is what you want, you don’t need a traditional theatrical and you definitely don’t need to overpay for the privilege.

Some OPTIONS – try HYBRID THEATRICAL – do FILM FESTIVAL, CREATE EVENTS, HOLD SCREENING WITH ORGANIZATIONS, show in MUSEUMS (in some cases), other ALTERNATIVE VENUES depending on the film, and also there are all sorts of ways to book a few days here and a few days there at theatres (we cover that below). Theatres are and will continue to do this more and more. AMCi announced their intentions and they are still in the marinating phase but we know you’ll all be ready when they are.

We’re interested in these companies and services:

1. Cinedigm: They have a program in the works that is meant to be similar to ScreenVision and Fathom (which is no longer handling indie films generally speaking, as far as we know) but aimed at independent cinema, and working with all the big theatre chains (Regal, AMC, Cinemark). I asked them to write a few words for me about themselves and their plans: Cinedigm Entertainment, a theatrical distributor, has built several “channels” of content for movie theatres. This is niche content that plays at what is traditionally slower times for the theatres. Examples are; Kidtoons a monthly matinee program; Live 3D sports, like the World Cup and NCAA Final Four basketball; and 3D and 2D concert films with artists from Dave Mathews to Beyonce. For each “channel” the most appropriate theatres are chosen and theatres sign on to play the content as a series, thereby creating the expectation in the marketplace for the next installment. In the company’s newest “channel” it looks to apply the concept to indie-films which will provide filmmakers with the theatrical element for distribution.

2. Emerging Pictures: Owned by Ira Deutchman (now also a Film Prof. at Columbia University) I spoke with Joshua Green who I have known for a while and booked with, though no real revenues were made in the past, their latest network of theatres sounds potent. They connect up to 75 theatres and they do very well with Opera, Ballet and Shakespeare but also indie films. They work with all the usual indie film distributors either taking on 2nd run of films in major markets or handing the first run in secondary markets. On screen now for example is Mother & Child, My Name is Love, and Girl with a Dragon Tattoo. 30% of the Gross is paid to the distributor or filmmaker. They charge usually a 1-time encoding fee to get the files needed for the theatres. The fee is $1,000. If that’s an issue that can sometimes in advance to make sure the bookings will happen to make the fee worthwhile. They create a Hi Rez file 720p VC1 file which is a professional HD version of MS Windows. They work with the Laemmle theatres in LA and Sympany Space in NY and lots of others across the country. What does well on the Art House circuit will do well with them I was told. Makes sense.

3. Variance Films: Dylan Marchetti (former exec at Imaginasian and Think Film) is a firm believer in Theatrical and it’s his business. He may promote its necessities a bit more than I will and its not his money to spend and he was honest about the range of success (meaning not all films work theatrically and sometimes money is lost, and we know of at least one example but it happens). We spoke for the first time and I was comforted by his grassroots approach (they do that work themselves) and his commitment to alternative low cost venues: event screenings, niche-specific / lifestyle specific venues, as well as traditional theatres (all the usual chains and small theatres etc). He noted that generally speaking they do not charge more than $50,000 and that they get paid via back-end fees only. He said a release in NY and LA for $20,000 can be done. Variance is not a believe in print advertising; they have to believe in the film to take it on; and Dylan said that there is no correlation between P&A spending and a film’s success. Amen. They don’t do PR but rather refer out to outside agencies, as does The Film Collaborative.

The Film Collaborative is theatrically releasing UNDERTOW (which won the World Cinema Audience Award at Sundance). Stay tuned.

Orly Ravid is the Founder and Co-Executive Director of The Film Collaborative, the first non-profit devoted to distribution. Having previously served as a distribution executive at Senator and Wolfe, and worked as a Programming Associate at Sundance and Programming Consultant at PSIFF, she also co-owns New American Vision, a boutique B:B marketing services company whose clients include AFI Fest, LAFF, IDA, and Roadside Attractions.

Transmedia, me, and Braden King

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

I became interested in Transmedia as a way to deepen both the narrative experience and the relationship between the experience and the participant.  It frustrates me how feature films often feel disposable and not truly resonant for most viewers; I know we – as both creators and viewers — don’t have to settle for this.  This situation is partially derived from both the creators’ and the industry’s reliance on a single product as representative of the movie experience; we don’t have much other than repackaging to show for our engagement, and that engagement is too often 100% passive.

We have reductive in our expression of narrative.  I generally define the Six Pillars of Narrative as: Discovery, Process, Production, Participation, Promotion, & Presentation.  Creators limit themselves when they draw the line between art and commerce, thinking marketing techniques don’t warrant their creative hand.  We shouldn’t ignore aspects of narrative that deepen the dialogue with those who become the very community we want.

As a film producer, I have a specific (and rather limited) way of thinking about process. As much as I have tried to build serendipity, collaboration, and spontaneity into my productions, there is no denying that there is a much stronger emphasis on the manufacturing, on getting it done.  We have budgets and schedules and responsibilities; it’s hard sometimes to see the art in the process itself.  Luckily, there are individuals out there to help me keep my eyes open to all realities.

I encountered Braden King through his 1998 film DUTCH HARBOR.  I loved how firmly it positioned itself in the world of “Art” and dug how he didn’t allow it to be pigeonholed, touring it with The Boxhead Ensemble, re-creating a live event in the process.  I have been even more impressed by how his new excursions into transmedia have informed his process.  Braden brings us into a more intimate relationship with the subject of his film – all before showing us the finished work.  Industry-ites often remark that transmedia is the sole domain of genre work but Braden shows that is far from the case.

I was asked recently to help curate Transmedia Now! week on  the Media Commons / In Media Res website.  Braden immediately was the artist I reached out to.  Check it out as Braden explains how his exploration into extensions has informed the process and the process itself has changed as a result.

DIY’s Distro Numbers Vs. The Corporate Giants’

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Jeremy Juuso has an interesting post on Baseline Intelligence that Phillip Lefesi tipped me to.  Jeremy analyzes the 1st & 2nd weekend returns of DIY vs other specialized releases.  The DIY films hold their own on the first weekend, but are surpassed by the corporate releases thereafter.  What is not mentioned however, is that the DIY films are not only probably more profitable, but the DIY films are still owned by the filmmakers (presumably).  If the exhibitors take 50% of the gross, the differential for rentals is only $25K between the two over the first two weeks. You have to figure that the corporate releases are spending more than $25K over the DIY films in marketing costs.  The DIY team would thus be making more money as well as owning their film and controlling their release. Check it out.

Daryl Wein on “Breaking Upwards”

What was your filmmaking background before making Breaking Upwards?

DARYL: I never went to film school. I learned everything about filmmaking by trial and error on my own. After I graduated from NYU, I directed a short film, entitled Unlocked, starring Olivia Thirlby that played in the Tribeca Film Festival. You can view the film on darylwein.com. I also directed a feature length documentary, entitled Sex Positive, that Regent distributed about a gay S&M sex worker from the 1980s who helped invent the concept of "safe sex" at the height of the AIDS epidemic.

What was the writing process like and how did you work with your co-writers?

DARYL: The writing process took about a year. At first, Zoe wasn't involved, it was only Peter and myself, and then eventually Zoe warmed more to the idea and helped develop it with us.

In terms of how we worked, I would say we would each write separately and then show each other the material and talk about it. Sometimes we sat together and worked on things, other times we didn't, it was a mixture of the two.

What are the benefits -- and the drawbacks -- of shooting on such a small budget?

DARYL: The benefits are you can basically do whatever you want. The drawbacks are you wear many hats that can detract focus from the more important jobs.

At the end of the day, we made the exact film we set out to make but there was a tremendous strain on all of us to get it done because we didn't have a lot of help. We couldn't pay a full crew, a lot of favors were pulled, and passion only lasts for so long. Ultimately, we are very proud and happy of how it went.

What was the smartest thing you did during production? The dumbest?

DARYL: Smartest thing may have been hiring Alex Bergman, our amazing DP, because he is very talented and also happened to own all of the equipment. The dumbest thing may have been shooting in a 5th floor walk up brownstone with no air conditioning in the middle of summer in New York.

The Ever-Growing Filter Crisis (aka Is Too Much Too Much?)

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Whenever I walk into a grocery store, I can’t help but wonder if people really want so many choices.  But does the same applies to tomato sauce or frozen waffles also apply to art, literature, music, and movies?  Sure Pandora can source new music for me based on my prior expressed preferences, but music also works as a background pleasure.  The same is hard to say for movies.  And man, do we sure have a lot of great stuff readily available to us.  What are we going to do to filter and search through all our choices?

My NetFlix  WatchInstantly queue has 275 titles in it currently.  Since at best I do two such titles a week, I am pretty much set for the next three or four years for the $108/yr I dole out to them.  And I think I add to that queue faster than I subtrack.

Snag recently mentioned their ambitions to aggregate over 100,000 documentaries (up from the current 1,500.  I recently heard of a VOD experiment utilizing something like 50,000 titles.  My consumer side loves even the mention of such volume.  But my filmmaker side starts to get the shakes as I wonder how the hell will people find my movies.

We’ve all heard that titles that begin with the letter “A” do better on VOD than any others.  Viewers have a hard time investing much search time in the current interface.  The Netflix algorithm for finding what I like is a nice tool for adding to the queue, but it an anonymous source and sometimes I want to know more of the “why” that than “just because you liked X”.  I was excited to stumble upon WhichFlicks.com the other day and added ten more titles to my WatchInstantly queue as a result.  Yet they were all generally well known titles.

If the annual film production number estimates I was given recently by Chris Hyams of B-side fame were even 50% accurate (7000 films in the US, and 45,000 films produced worldwide per year), every filmmaker’s most pertinent question is not “How do I get my movie made?” but “How am I going to get my film seen?” .

Who wins in the volume game?  The same folks who win in the limited supply game.  Who has the most money at the end of the game?  The same folks who had the most money at the start of the game.  Who gets their story told in the history books?  Those that write the history books.  Wait… I’m off point.  Okay, just sort of, but… you get the picture.

If we can’t get attention for the work, how is it going to get seen?  I know many out there believe that the cream rises to the top, just like their are many that believe that hard work and a good attitude can bring you all you dream.  Me, I feel that the exceptions to those stories are what we must all work to prevent, that with effort and support, we can make it better together.

I don’t think it needs to just be volume and quantity of the message that gets your work noticed, but that is still how it is all working.  Sure design is still effective and originality scores points too.  And occasionally we see the underserved community come up and respond to a direct address (remember FAHRENHEIT 9/11 and THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST) or even a well served community respond to something that even just smelled authentic (BLAIR WITCH, PARANORMAL ACTIVITY), but what about good work in general, good stories well told, how can we find those and make them a priority for people again when they are being assaulted with choices from every sector under the sun?  Call me an optimist, but I am confident it can be done.

We lost an incredible service when all the film critics lost their pulpits at the national and local papers.  Individual blogs don’t work the same way papers did.  Now you want sports news, you go to sports sites, and the chances are you aren’t going to find news on some obscure indie film gem.  Sure you may get personalized ads on your social network and your thousands of friends and all those you follow have an opinion about what may be important that minute, but it isn’t the same as a long standing relationship with a critic with a history of well thought out opinions — you know how to judge the critic’s taste against your own.  I know you can go to MetaCritic or RottenTomatoes but I personally find the aggregated opinions don’t deepen my relationship with a critic or a film; they feel generalized, even after I drill down to the individual.

Even those friends whom I know whose tastes resemble my own, I don’t know what they are watching.  Or listening to.  Or reading.  Or where to easily get those things even if I did know.  And when I get a recommendation, what do I do with it anyways?  Why can’t I have one list that keeps it altogether for me, whether I am going to find it in a theater, or on Netflix, or VOD, or whether I want to purchase it?

Some solutions are also a bit terrifying.  If I let my tastes known about all things, if we have a set of common tags that I can like or dislike, even to varying degrees, presumably my next new favorite thing can be effortlessly found and delivered in this glorious digital age.  But when IT could happen here, when civil liberties are consistently ignored, do I really want to share my data?  Maybe such specific personalization is not such a godsend.

And what is it that we really want from such filters anyway?  It’s not just what to watch, but also when to watch what we watch.   Doesn’t eveyone miss those water cooler conversations about last night’s Seinfeld episode?  Isn’t the pleasure of going to the movies, largely about seeing it with other people?  We want to watch what are friends are watching so we can discuss it easily with them?  And not just really our friends, but also those we hope might become our friends too.

Really, when we all have over 1000 films on our To Watch list, how do we begin to make a choice?

What Makes a Cliché?

A cliché is basically a stereotype for words; a pithy or cute saying. And for writers, this advice is often given: Don't use clichés!

But sometimes, that's like trying to avoid the plague. (Although, in our day and age, it's not like we have a lot plague going around. Unless you count the hazardous Swine Flu pandemic of 2009-2010. But that's water under the bridge.)

While clichés are here, there, and everywhere, here's something to think about:

Clichés usually begin as brilliant insights.

That's why we repeat them. They really only become clichéd through overuse.

Well, that's all, folks! We're busy as beavers. But now it's your turn. Do you have a favorite cliché? Or the cliché you most love to hate? (Tell us in the comments below. Remember, there's no time like the present.)

By the way, in preparing for this post we came across a cliché-finding website. Try it: http://www.westegg.com/cliche/

P.S. See the photo above? Bonus points to anyone who can guess the cliché it represents!

[Photo courtesy of tripleman]

The Mentoring Mindset as A Key to Film Sustainability

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Today’s guest post is from filmmaker Chris Ohlson.  Chris produced one of the indie films that I truly enjoyed last year, THE OVERBROOK BROTHERS.  Check it out; you won’t be disappointed.  He’s making the move into directing now.

I was recently invited to the IFP Narrative Filmmaker Labs with my directorial feature film debut Melvin. (the IFP Labs workshop and mentor 10 narrative works-in-progress that showcase ‘creative promise and vision’) To be able to participate in the Labs was a truly humbling and altogether amazing experience – and I have much to share.

But first, some quick and fast back-story. I’ve been a working producer and production manager surviving by doing commercials, web series and music videos. In recent years, I have acted as some variation of a producer on films like The Overbrook Brothers, Lovers of Hate and The Happy Poet. So that’s what I do, but not necessarily who I am. I am a filmmaker.

Back to the Labs. Early in the week Scott Macaulay (Editor of Filmmaker Magazine and producer of Gummo and Raising Victor Vargas, among many others) said something that brought the Labs to life for me. “As a producer,” he said, “I try to learn from my mistakes and I try to never make that particular mistake again on the next film, or the one after that.”

Simple enough, right? But I was thunderstruck.  It was like that moment when, as an adult, you realize that your parents are just regular people—mortal and finite—doing their best to survive. “If Scott Macaulay is still making moviemaking mistakes,” I thought to myself, “what hope is there for me and for the rest of us in this room?”

Now, two things. First, I don’t necessarily completely believe him (that he makes many mistakes, that is). But I do appreciate his efforts to relate to us. And I dig what he was saying… that when it comes to the actual making of the movie, there are no superheroes, no secret societies, no magic wands and no secret handshakes.

In fact, I’ll risk being a little too confessional here: his words were the first glimmers of warmth in quite some time to penetrate down to the darkest depths of my filmmaking soul, because what he was saying to us was, in effect, “You are not alone.”

Why is that confessional? Because at 34 years old, I feel old. I feel like I am constantly making mistakes. I feel like I have expended so much effort and am only now finishing my very first feature. Time and time again I have shouldered that can-do, DIY, DIWO, by-any-and-all-means-necessary attitude that—damn-it-all-to-hell—gets things done, and I have in this way soldiered my way toward concrete results. And it has been tumultuous. Exhausting. Lonely. And, being more honest here than I should be, I’ll admit that I rarely, if ever, have wondered about the BIG reward at the end of all of this.

It probably says a lot about my insecurities that on Day One of the Labs my imposter complex was in overdrive. I felt out of place. I felt like neither I, nor my film, had the cache to command the support of a national organization (one that I’ve followed for as long as I knew what independent films were). I felt like there had been a mistake. But by Day Five, the last day, things had changed.

But if you think I’m taking you toward the happy ending here—that if you stick it out long enough then good things will automatically happen—you’re wrong. This is filmmaking. And what’s an independent film without an ambiguous and sometimes infuriating ending? The Labs are phenomenal, no doubt. But they are no guarantee of success or recognition or certainty of any reward. Nor do the Labs make the road traveled any shorter or less grueling.

What the Labs do, is remind you that, as Scott implied, You are not alone. And by the end of the last day, I felt not only like I was amid a group of individuals who had traveled their own lonely road, but I also felt assured that the lonely road was the only road that would have led to that place. My fellow filmmakers were walking that road just as our mentors and Lab leaders had done before us. The lonely road felt, momentarily, a little crowded.

And, okay, the Labs were rewarding (if rewarding can be kept separate from a reward). Because aside from the philosophical assurance of being in good company, the Labs are populated and produced by actual people. One more time, by actual people. Regular people. Amazing people like Susan Stover and Amy Dotson and Jon Reiss and Tricia Cooke (just to name a few that I connected with). People who are available to help and people who want to advise.

Perhaps the presence or the idea of a mentoring model shouldn’t have struck me with such force. But it did. It was a revelation. It made me realize how critical it is to making cinema, to making art, and to making our voices be heard. I’m not looking for bottom line budget numbers or specific salaries or stories about ‘the making of’ certain films; I’m looking for nuts and bolts information and honest, frank feedback that allows me to create better films. This is what the IFP Labs were for me and per their mission statement, what the IFP wants to do more of. I’m 34 years old, which it turns out is sorta-kinda young by industry standards, and I sorta-kinda feel like I just got the keys to my first car.

And I’d go further. I’d suggest that what we really need is a Mentoring Mindset. Because as far as I have traveled down this road, there are others who are just now beginning their journey. And, I’d like to think that as much as I can benefit from the guidance of those ahead, there are others who can benefit from me, from where I now stand. And if I share what I can, with whomever I can, the result will be the creation of better films.

So, my conclusions: first, take philosophical comfort that you are not alone. Second, give generously of your experience whenever you can. Among many things, my experience at the IFP Labs has pushed me towards an almost evangelical fervor that we need to permeate filmmaking with a Mentoring Mindset. Let Us Go Forth and Mentor.

Anyway, that’s my $.02. Thanks so much for your time—and to Ted for allowing me to share my thoughts and recent revelations here.
Chris Ohlson

Chris Ohlson is a producer and director currently in post-production on his feature directorial debut film, MELVIN. He worries far too much about his calendar and often doesn’t sleep because of tomorrow’s to-do list. For more information, check out http://chrisohlson.com.

“Transmedia Now” Week On In Media Res

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Today’s guest post is from Elizabeth Strickler, informing us of what is going over at InMediaRes this week (and a wee bit of cross promotional activity).

In Media Res is dedicated to experimenting with collaborative, multi-modal forms of online scholarship. Each weekday, a different participant curates a short (less than 3-minute) video clip accompanied by a 300-350-word impressionistic response. We use the title “curator” because, like a curator in a museum, the participant repurposes a media object that already exists and provides context through their commentary. Theme weeks are designed to generate a networked conversation between curators and the public around a particular topic.

For the week of July 26-30th, the theme is “Transmedia Now”. The curators are: Christy Dena, Marc Ruppel, Robert Pratten, Brian Newman, and Ted Hope.

They will be discussing what is happening right now in the much-debated term, Transmedia. The subjects covered range from Canadian superheroes to the links between storytelling and mapping. Stay tuned and jump in when it starts. If you don’t like what is happening in the independent entertainment industry, this will be your chance to speak up. (You do have to login to comment.)

Thanks again for your participation.

Elizabeth Strickler is the Associate Director of the Digital Arts Entertainment Lab at Georgia State University.

Tell an Old Joke Day

It's Tell an Old Joke Day...

Here's a joke to go with the Soviet theme (because of our upcoming movie Under Jakob's Ladder).

A flock of sheep are stopped by frontier guards at the Russo-Finnish border. "Why do you wish to leave Russia?" the guards ask them. "It's the Secret Police," reply the terrified sheep. "The order has come to arrest all elephants."

"But you aren't elephants!" the guards point out.

"Try telling that to the Secret Police!"

PMD Rising

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Today’s guest post is by Jon Reiss.

As some of you may know, I coined a new crew category titled the Producer of Marketing and Distribution (or PMD) in my book Think Outside the Box Office. I came up with the idea when trying to think of a solution to the enormous amount of work that distribution and marketing can be for filmmakers without a distributor. The concept boils down to: you didn’t make your film on your own – why should you release it on your own. You can read about the concept of the PMD in one of my other posts. I am happy to report that this concept is gaining traction. I was spurred to write this post after 25% (20 out of 80) of each of my Perth and Adelaide workshops indicated that they wanted to be PMDs (this is before my upcoming classes in Sydney and Melbourne). In Adelaide, the SA Film Corporation has plans to set up an in house PMD to help support the distribution efforts of independent filmmakers in South Australia.

Also just this week Adam Daniel Mezei who in January wrote a great blog post about the responsibilities of a PMD, has set himself up as a PMD for Hire. One of the attendees of my Amsterdam workshop has another PMD site and is already working on a Dutch film as a PMD. A group of Vancouver attendees formed a PMD support group this past month.

I feel that this beginning indicates that there a huge numbers of potential PMDs in the world who love films, don’t want to be on set and love the work of distribution and marketing. These are the people we filmmakers should seek out to be our PMDs.

This August I will be heading to the University Film and Video Conference (for US film school profs) to give 2 presentations on how and why to teach film distribution and marketing to film students. This is not just so that writer/directors can be aware of the realities of the world that awaits them, it is also to train a new generation of PMDs (and their support crew).

Finally I will be working on my own educational initiative for PMDs (beyond the 2 day workshops that I am giving).

My goal is that in five years time, whenever a filmmaker puts out a call for a PMD they will receive as many resumes for a PMD as for a DP or Editor or AD. Even if a film ends up with traditional distribution, the work of a PMD during prep, production and post is invaluable. If the film doesn’t obtain traditional distribution (or doesn’t want traditional distribution) a PMD (and a complete distribution and marketing crew) are vital.

– Jon Reiss

Steven Rumbelow on “Autumn”

What was your filmmaking background before making Autumn?

STEVEN: I was in a gifted artist program from age 5 and moved from painting to sculpture to theatre as a natural progression from painting. By 18 I was England's youngest professional theatre director, having worked at the Royal Shakespeare Company and became known for edgy versions of Shakespeare and Marlowe. One production of King Lear was doing very well in the early ‘70's and the head guy from The British Film Institute saw it and said he felt it should be made into a film. There was no way that he could have known about my ultimate agenda to move from theatre to film directing, as I saw film as the ultimate painting medium. Between ‘75 and ‘81 I made three films, with each one winning Outstanding Film of the Year at London Film Festival plus several awards in Europe. The films were King Lear in 1975, St. Joan in 1977 and Dr. Faustus in 1981.

Over the years I found it really useful to sort of synergize the positive processes of different media and it became a goal of mine to become a sort of renaissance director with cross over knowledge of all media. Now my directing career boasts 9 feature films, 65 episodes of television, 3 docs, 1 radio drama, 1 opera, 1 dance, 84 music videos, 17 commercials and 46 stage productions. I'm committed to eight very exciting films over the next three years or so that range in budget from $1m to $15m each.

I've also 100 plus produced works as a writer, but don't really view myself as a writer. I just felt that I wanted to be able to write in order to be able to rewrite other people's work on set.

What was the writing process like on Autumn?

STEVEN: It was nerve-wracking. I let David Moody present his version of the script, which was about 200 pages of the book. It would have been 5 hours long, but I got what he felt was the most important aspects of the book to go to film.

I sat down to write it and something happened that had never happened to me before. I had the haters of the book (the "don't mess with the zombie genre" people), the fans of the book all saying "don't screw it up" and "oh no, it's not set in England" and David Moody, in my mind’s eye, saying "oh no, what are you doing to my baby?" So my process was very, very careful, cautious and respectful.

The final script was 115 pages long which is par for most scripts. I managed to keep my main goals in perspective... the notion that, like the aftershock of 9/11, man does not respond by becoming Arnold Alois Schwarzenegger, but is more prone to sit in corners and experience the shock to the system.

What was the smartest thing you did during production?

STEVEN: Casting Dexter for Michael, Dickon for Carl and David Carradine for Philip.

The dumbest?

STEVEN: See next question. Smile. Really.


What camera system did you use to shoot it and what did you like and hate about it?

STEVEN: The Panasonic DVCPRO HD Varicam. I loved the high picture quality, use of darks and blacks... the options for speeds and the whole cine look bias to the camera! The Sony HD doesn't come close.

However, I hated the fact that in order to preserve the 24 frames per second that we shot the picture in meant that it had to go through a special process called "unwrapping" if you use Final Cut pro. There were no manuals at that time that we could find that tell you this, however, so our work in post was automatically re-conformed with extra frames to 30 fps and screwed up time code on all video and digital masters. Everything needed to be redone. That was the dumbest mistake I made on the film.

Over the Edge, my next film, is to be shot on a RED, so plenty of research on RED and FCP has been done to ensure this never happens again.


How did the film change while shooting ... and while editing?

STEVEN: It suddenly dumped a pile of snow uncharacteristically early that fall and it carried on snowing and snowing... sometimes with blizzards so bad we had to call off shooting because no one could get to set. Lots of rewriting to avoid exterior scenes and to allow for the first snowfall during the shoot so that we could get through at least half of the film before saying "Oh, look it's snowing." I really like the look of zombies in snow, though.

When we got into the cutting room, it seemed that the Bergman-esque style I used to tell the story as a psychological observation of human society in stress was working really nicely. The problem was that the first edit, which looked really good, was 3 hours long, so we had to compress many of the longer Bergman styled moments to shave off the 70 excess minutes.

And, finally, what did you learn from making the film that you can take to other projects?

STEVEN: 1) I learned a lot from working with David Carradine. I wanted it to be like nothing he had ever done before. That meant he had to take some risks and I had to take some directing risks. The risk was worth it because so many were pleased with the outcome.

2) I learned that you need to be strong to work against type in a genre and that when you do, the people that you really want to reach DO actually get it. Tossing away the senselessly ravenous dead zombie prototype can be scary. It forces one to create a different way of delivering horror.

3) NEVER, NEVER EVER! issue a copy of an unfinished cut, with scratch sound and effects, to your interested distributors without a watermark on every frame. Our film was pirated through Asia to bitTorrent and eventually everywhere. So far we are told about 12 million rips of that edit have been and are still being made. On many of the leading rip sites, that unfinished version that was passed around in June is still being downloaded and ranked in the top 20 horror films. The film wasn't finished until October and the work in post was 12 hours a day from June through September so you can imagine how unfinished the June rip was.

However, there is an upside and the fact is that even in that state the film still got a 30+% approval, which means that over four million people around the world were giving it good word of mouth. That would have cost us millions to achieve through traditional advertising means and accounts, in part, for why the film has sold so amazingly well throughout the world and the USA.

The Good Machine No-Budget Commandments

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Back in the day, before I had This is that, I had a production company called Good Machine. James Schamus and I founded it together, and we later partnered with David Linde. Mary Jane Skalski and Anthony Bregman were also partners, and we had the good fortune to work with a host of other talents including my later partners Anne Carey and Diana Victor, and Ross Katz, Glen Basner, Heta Paarte, Lamia Guelatti, Melinka Thompson-Gody, Jean Castelli, Kelly Miller, Dan Beers, Eric Papa, Jawal Nga, and many other later-legends to be.

As good as the films we made, as great as the individuals we got to collaborate with, we also had a genuine fondness for memos and how-to’s. If you come to my office these days, it looks like a FEMA site; we are going paperless, and I am sorting through the files, finding many choice nuggets. My madeleines.

One day, way back when, I went into to speak to a NYU grad class and I felt I would feel more substantive if I had something to hand out (btw I believe The Savages director, Tamara Jenkins was in that class). That was the start of the Good Machine No-Budget Commandments. James and I revised them here and there, and I am pretty sure, that Mary Jane and Anthony tossed more than a suggestion or two.

My surprise in reading them today is that no where do they say “The budget is the aesthetic.”  That had seemed like the mantra at times.  We get pretty close with #4, but not as dogmatic.

They hold up today. I still subscribe to the full set of notions.  Here they are, for your critique and comment, in their dusty glory.

1. Write to direct. A screenplay, especially a no-budget screenplay is a very loose blueprint for a film – ultimately every choice you make will compromise something else.

2. Write for what you know and for what you can obtain. This goes for actors, locations, animals, and major propping or set dressing. If your friend owns something, anything, write it into the film.

3. Remain flexible. Recognize the essential element in a scene and allow it to take place in a variety of locations or circumstances.

4. Choose an aesthetic that will capitalize on the lack of money (i.e. period anachronisms, monochromatic color schemes, etc.). Invest meaning in everyday commonplace things – make an orange a totemic object John Ford would be proud of.

5. Don’t over strive. Don’t try to show how much production value you have (you don’t have it, so you’ll either fail or unbalance your film). A film that people say is “well produced” usually means that the story didn’t have much going for it. Keep the story aligned with the budget.

6. Don’t limit yourself to too few locations – it’s a dead give away of lack of dollars. I like the number eight.

7. Use everything more than once. You’ve already paid for it, so use it, use it, use it.

8. Write for a very limited audience – your closest friends. Do not try to please anyone – crowd pleasing costs.

9. Write to cut it back later. You can trim to subtlety.

10. Contradict the above commandment and only write what you know you absolutely must shoot.

11. Keep it simple. You can learn how to do the impossible on your next film. No dogs. No babies. “Business” is expensive. Keep it controllable.

12. Keep it intimate. Dialogue and close ups are cheap.

13. Make the most of a day’s work. It’s easier to get a commitment for one day than it is for a week. Exploit people’s willingness to give a day.

14. Ignore everything listed above if it doesn’t further the story.

The Essence of Cinema...

Just a quick editing quote for this week's blog post...

"The essence of cinema is editing. It's the combination of what can be extraordinary images of people during emotional moments, or images in a general sense, put together in a kind of alchemy."
-- Francis Ford Coppola

Why Producers Are Valued

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Ages ago, I wrote a post about why Producers matter. All of that hold’s true, but none of it is why we get hired. In these days when jobs are scarce and many a long time cohort is looking at new enterprises or a new career, I find myself often reminding my brethren of the simple truths of what “they” want from us. Producers are respected for six things I figure:

• Validation – Your support of them means that the project is real (or at least they think it will mean that for others).  It may be it’s own category, but I think the “Cover Your Ass” criteria is a subset of this; those that are in the employ by others, need to make sure they have someone else to blame or deflect off when SHTF.  That someone is often you.
• Taste – Whether it’s picking or crafting; be it a slant towards commercial or critical success; and whether it is the financiers or the creators doing the selecting, your work matters, and should be protected where ever possible.  Your past represents where you want to go in the future.  What you’ve done won’t go away and it speaks about what is NEXT for you.
• Access & Relationships – Its not just who you know, but also how much they want to pick up the phone when you call.  People pay for contact and efficiency.  In getting things done, you want to make sure you are also working to make it all go smoother, faster, better in the future.  Work not just for the now but for the later too.
• Integrity & Trust – As both keeper of the purse and warrior at the front lines, you are asked to manage both the art and the financial.  Both require leaps of faith by those who say yes, and we can expect that to be  followed by constant careful consideration – what have you done both before and during is how you get to earn  and maintain their support and commitment.
• Cost Control Skills – maybe in times of wealth and growth, execution takes precedent, but I think I have lived through such times (and we certainly are not in them now!), and granted I may be corrupted by the prism I look through, but first and foremost those that surrender the capital want to know you can turn off the spigot.  More for less is what people always want and it is the producer’s responsibility to give it to them.
• Experience – Everyone’s looking for the shorter path.  They need a guide.  That is the producer, and you must learn the way.

I don’t know if there is really anything else. And I certainly don’t mean that these six reasons are WHY we should be valued — just that this is why we are.  Whenever I say this sort of stuff though,  I am surprised I don’t get more arguments. I wish we were valued for our storytelling skills and our dramaturgy know-how.  I am confident that I make scripts, movies, and campaigns better, but it is very rare that this is raised as the reason that people bring projects or money to me.  I wish that would change…

I am also very proud of the overall financial record of my films.  I feel that I have learned at what price point projects must be produced at to deliver a positive return.  Yet again, people generally prefer that films are delivered on time and on budget (as opposed to make more money than they cost).  I hear people often state that at the end of the day no one will ask if it came in on budget or schedule, just that it if it made money — but that has never been the case for me.  And you would think that in this world where everyone appears to be profit motivated that they would care more if one’s work was profitable than if it was any good, but it doesn’t seem to be that way at the end of the day.  I make movies that are both good and structured to make money — but that isn’t what drives new work or funding my way.   Maybe profits matter when someone is making the commitment, but on initial meetings when people speak about the reason they came through the door, it seems to still be about quality only.  Maybe it is that only big profits matter?  Is it all size and not ROI when it comes to returns?

Wayne Johnson on “The Nihilist”

What brought the three of you together?

WAYNE: Nick and I met a long time ago and had actually written a couple things together, including the short film, Breakables. Brendan Eddy and I met at The Minnesota School of Business when he hired me as an instructor there. After working together for a couple years we decided to make our first feature film, Ultro-Pep The Movie.

We all hung out together and when the time came for the next big project after Breakables, I suggested to Nick that we needed Brendan’s expertise to handle the major visual effects for The Nihilist and his creative input. So Brendan and I teamed up for the second time as co-directors on the film with nick as producer. Nick and I co-wrote the Script but all three of us had a hand in the final version.

What was the starting point for The Nihilist and how did you develop it?

WAYNE: I had actually had the idea for the story about 2002. I had initially decided to do it as a comic book story and had written a script and had laid out all the panels to be drawn. I just never moved on with it. The basic story was all there as far as events.

When I was talking to Nick about our next project we had both thought it would be cool to do that story and Brendan had liked the idea too, so we took the plot of my original story and fleshed it out. My goal of the story was to make a direct response to the end of Full Metal Jacket, where they state that the world is shit. So in response I wanted to put a person in one of the most horrible places in history and seeing no hope for himself or the world and have him find it in the most unlikely place, a World War I battlefield. I specifically called it The Nihilist to emphasis the worldview of the character.

What was the writing process like?

WAYNE: Nick, Brendan and I took my basic plot outline and wrote out a list of beats that we wanted to happen and what order we wanted them to happen in, about 22 beats, then I wrote a draft and Nick rewrote it and then we worked out about 10 versions.

Brendan re-worked the dialogue, which is good, because it’s not my strong suit. Then when Brendan storyboarded the film, he reworked it a bit more and as we shot it we tweaked it and of course the editing process is a final draft too.

What camera did you use to shoot the film and what did you like and hate about that format?

WAYNE: Panasonic SDX 900, DVCPRO 50 with HD lenses. The best thing about the camera and format was it’s low light capability. We could shoot at night in the dark with very little light and get a nice clean picture. The format is only SD but that camera makes the image quality look like HD.

I think the hate came from Brendan when he had to do color keys for the opening shot. I wish we could have done it in HD but the cost was out of range for that.

Your production design was awesome. What advice do you have for someone setting out to make a period piece like The Nihilist?

WAYNE: You must use reference! Brendan, Nick and I watched footage from the war. I have always been a history buff and loved WWI stuff, so it was very important that we got the feel right. There was some consideration for historical accuracy, but we defiantly found ways to get the right look.

World War I stuff is super rare and expensive, so we only had a few things, like the British coats, those are replicas made in India. The Machine Gun was a real one, that we rented in town. Also the British rifles are the correct type but newer models. Also building a real trench helped immensely. We used similar materials, as far as wood and the metal sheets.

What was the biggest lesson you took away from shooting the movie?

WAYNE: Fog, fog was a nightmare. We had to have a lot of it and in an open field that is hard. We lucked out and didn’t have much wind until the last night. Also having enough power for the fog machines was a big deal. With too much drain they would not heat up enough to work. We used 3 Industrial fog machines, a party fog machine and finally a Bug Smoker from Wal-Mart, that worked the best and kept the bugs off of us!

And, finally, what did you learn from making the film that you can take to other projects?

WAYNE: Time management. We shot 90% of the film in 4 nights and a Saturday morning. We had a few pick up shots for the opening scene and to rework a scene that didn’t work on set. But I have heard from most of the people on cast and crew that they had never worked on such an efficient shoot before in town. I think that is a huge achievement. Proper scheduling, proper time management, and have a plan for every scene. Organization is a must especially on a location shoot.

http://www.thenihilistfilm.com/

See the trailer to Wayne's new film: http://intothevoidfilm.com

Film Tax Incentives Need To Focus On Low Budget Production Too!

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

It is frustrating from an indie producer perspective that all film-centered tax incentives, both here in the US and abroad, are geared towards the higher budgeted films. It is totally understandable though, as the Hollywood & big budget fare bring in the most revenue and the most jobs. This sort of bias however, also limits the growth of local creative talent — in fact you could argue that the bias to high priced production in tax incentives drives out the local talent and thus prevents creative communities from developing in the regions in which the incentives are supposed to help.

Unless such tax incentive programs also focus on the sustainability of the creative community — in addition to maximizing tax revenues and employment — it will always be carpetbaggers who benefit from policy and not the local community. It is great when the local work force is all fully employed (remember those days?), and it is great when the local vendors have deal upon deal so they grow their biz and improve the infrastructure, but why limit our ambition to such basic needs as employment and monetary profit?

When the goal of policy is 100% profit & revenue motivated,  IMHO  it is generally a barrier to the creation of  the best work and consequently the sustainability of the individuals who make it. Supporting lower budget work through such policy benefits local community and the artists who are vested in the locale as a whole (not just in terms of how they save & make $$).

Why is it so important for government policy to focus on low budget media production as well as the biggest revenue & job generators in this sector?

• Media artists create work inspired by where they live, the places & people they love and are intrigued by.  If the up & comings can’t afford to shoot in a place, fewer films will be centered in local communities, and thus unfortunately as a result create a more generic impression of our country worldwide.  We need to help provide an understanding of our worlds that are not just motivated by the “sell” and mass market.  How will we build bridges to other communities throughout the world when all of our output is about reaching into people’s wallet and the characters we portray aim to satisfy everyone?
• Every film shot is a promotional tool to make it’s setting a desired destination for all.  Movies are promotional tools for the tourist industry of the state.  We enrich the area where we set our work financially as well as culturally.
• No one sets out to work on projects that are only profitable or employ huge crews.  It is a need to participate in work (and culture) that you are proud of, that speaks to you personally — it is this quality that makes people chose to work for lower rates on our projects (I am told).  To keep a strong crew base, communities need a diversity of production to sustain individuals both creatively and financially.
• Low budget films provide a way for crew members to advance their skill set by working at higher responsibility than they would elsewhere . Since depth of talent base is a decisive factor where a film shoots, larger films are incentivized to come to a location where they can find a crew and actor base with the required experience — and as a result in benefits a community to make sure that crews can advance their skill set and not just get stuck at the lower end of a hiring heirachy.
• Low budget films take more chances on collaborators in all categories, creating new “stars” and adding “value” in the process, and eventually attracting & generating new projects consequently.  If communities rely only on projects only generated outside their community, their prime tool to attract productions will be increasing the size of their incentives and thus limiting their revenues in the process; we all need home grown projects or else each incentive will be incentivized to exceed each other (and destroy the local benefits as a result).
• Quality of life improves for all when we don’t just do well, but also do good.  Incentivizing low budget production and nurturing home grown talent can be a source of civic pride — which is part of the glue that drives and sustains any infrastructure.
• Large budget productions must maintain the status quo.  Large budgets are justified by the tastes at the time they are made.  Large budgets are about the already proven.  If we believe in the necessity of a diverse culture, an inclusive culture, a culture of opportunity, we need to find ways to make sure we support low budget production.
• And let’s be real: from a business and recoupment perspective, it is hard to justify middle budget production (which these days I would define as $500K – $45M!) under the current revenue models.  New talent won’t develop, new ideas and methods won’t be sourced, unless we have a middle ground where transitional artist can experiment and grow. If we want to have a healthy film and media industry, we need to help stimulate low budget production.

Nonetheless, State Tax Film Incentives and other policies generally favor larger budgeted films.  In NY State we would not have a tax incentive if it wasn’t for the coalition of studio owners who lobbied for the initial law, but not surprisingly they looked out (then, and continue to look out so now) for their own interest and required that every film have a day of work on a “certified” stage to qualify for the incentive — up until the tax incentives passed, not one of my sixty films had ever shot on a real stage.  It also has been said that the approval process in many states is far more rigorous for low budget films than higher ones, and I imagine that there will eventually reach a court case in some state or another where a filmmaker proves this.  Granted, tax incentives are just one aspect of the bias to large budget films nation wide, but they are one that we can do something about.  The first step is convincing our communities that low budget work matters (which means we must advance beyond just financial analysis in determining our policy).

There are numerous policies that could be built into local film tax incentives that would help create sustainable film communities in those very same states or locales:

1. Every state these days owns or controls various buildings and real estate that could be made available at reduced rates for low budget home-grown production.
2. Similarly, film permit fees (like the ones NYC recently inacted) could be waived if a budget is below a certain threshold; ditto on requisite practices like NY State’s tax incentive studio requirement.
3. And why not reserve a portion of each state’s rebate for local low-budget production and keep the carpetbaggers from siphoning off the whole kaboodle?

Frankly, it would be great if States and municipalities even focused on some non-funding activities to help their local film communities.

1. Wouldn’t it be great if film board websites actually promoted local filmmakers and technicians?  Local film schools could be recruited to shoot, edit, and post promotional videos championing home grown talent.
2. Is there anything wrong with States playing matchmaker and introducing financiers and other entrepreneurs to the best and the brightest?  Many states now have incubators and other “proof of concept” matchmaking enterprises and wouldn’t everyone feel indebted if the angels met the aspirants?
3. And why stop at tax breaks, promotion, and matchmaking?  Whatever happened to subsidized housing and work space for artists?  Don’t the creative class give rise to a higher quality of life for the rest of the community?  Why not require low cost housing for artists be part of any redevelopment plan?
4. Why not help fund a teaching/lecture program that artists can participate in to not only help them survive but to also give back to the community at the same time?

I am sure that you can add to these lists.  Let’s figure this out and build it better together.

Where are the governments that show they actually believe that culture is a valuable (even necessary) component to life?  Tell us, so we can begin the mass-migration now!

Nightmare at the Movies

You sit down in a crowded movie theatre. You've paid your money. You've been anticipating this movie and you can't wait for it to begin. The previews are finally over and you settle into your seat when...

A cell phone rings.

It's not your cell phone. It belongs to the guy next to you. How do you know this? Because he actually answers the phone. And then proceeds to talk. All the while, you are trying to concentrate on the movie!

Finally, he hangs up. But, unfortunately, the "nightmare at the movies" has begun. As the couple behind you begin a running commentary on the entire movie, the teen in front of you begins texting. While it's true that she's not saying a word, that bright little screen can be very distracting.

What do you do?

However, this kind of behavior from some moviegoers isn't all that new... Even back in the 1920s, during the heyday of silent films, they had problems! Okay, so they didn't have cell phones back then. But, they did have to deal with different issues.

Since silent films are, well, silent. No sound means no dialogue. Okay, there was a little dialogue, but it was all on title cards. Nothing audible. Still, moviegoers complained about the patron who decided they would read each title as it came on screen.

In fact, in Kansas City, the theatre owners thought this was such a problem that they asked a young Walt Disney -- before the days of Mickey -- to create short cartoons to address this issue. Disney created several of his Laugh-O-Grams to feature a comical professor who would slam a mallet on the head of title readers; or would release a trapdoor that would chute them to the street.

Do you have any nightmare stories that you've endured at the movies? Share your experiences in the comments below...

It Does Keep Getting Better And Better

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

The evidence is out there. The future is less painful than the present. Our tools keep improving. Access too. Thus opportunity. Wasn’t it less than a year ago that we hadn’t seen all that a DSLR camera can do? Evidently, REVERIE was the first 1080p video widely released that was shot with the Canon 5D MKII. I am sure that the millions of folks who have now watched it weren’t all filmmakers, but still you can feel the excitement of watching it for the first time and recognizing what you can do with these cameras. They’ve already made films I am involved in better.

Reverie from Vincent Laforet on Vimeo.

R.I.P. Harvey Pekar

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

He brought us one of my best film experiences ever.  As true an original as there can be and a man of principles, humor, insight, and artistry.  An American splendor.

This is a very nice obit from Cleveland.com

“Reaching The Impossible” Indie Prod Battle Diary: MADE IN CHINA

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Today’s guest post is from the star of 2009 SXSW Grand Jury Prize Winning film MADE IN CHINA, Jackson Kuehn.  I had the good fortune of being on the jury (with Scott Foundas and Anne Thompson) that year and was delighted how ambitious, inventive, funny and moving the film was.  As great all of those qualities were, the film also was centered by Jackson’s comic and committed star turn.  Jackson and Judi (Krant — the director) are both the real deal.  I will make a point of watching whatever they do.  And lucky for you: MADE IN CHINA is now up on IFC VOD.  If you love Indie Film, if you believe in ambitious film, if you want a diverse & unique film culture, if you want some good laughs, or just want to see how much can be created with very limited means, PLEASE make sure to watch MADE IN CHINA this month (and tell all your friends likewise).

‘One Hundred Year Old Egg’

by Jackson Kuehn

I was suffering from gastric pain, malnutrition, hot weather conditions, incoherence of thought, so three Lomotil pills later, I decided to stand up for myself and address the situation to Judi Krant during the casting process of our beloved Dorothy.  I let Judi know that agitation had gotten the better of me and I felt that at any moment I was going to die in Shanghai, China; commonly known as the Paris of the East.  At that precise moment, Judi’s highly concentrated eyes shifted my way like a famished, bloodthirsty wolf who had one last shot to feed her babies and to get it through my head that she’s the leader of the pack.  She said, “Jackson, now is the time to fight through it all.  I don’t want to hear any more excuses.  You need to toughen up now.”  I nodded my head and agreed.  Then she said, “For the next three weeks, you’ll be sharing the queen sized bed with Mr. James Choi.”  I replied, “But I need personal time to recover from all of our feverish activity!  I need plenty of time to listen to Mozart and time to take my bubble bathes!” Once again, she stared at me very similarly to a king cobra about to strike a blind burrowing rodent.  The consciousness of one’s own dignity was at stake, so I concurred.

It was time to make our movie ‘Made in China’- indie style.

With exceptionally clever Judi at the helm and a crew comprised of New Yorkers, Austinites, Californians, English, Swedes, Africans, Koreans and Chinese (all posing as an Italian Documentary Crew I might add) I knew that shooting under the radar from Chinese Authorities was risky.  However, tension mostly resulted from adverse, out of the box ideas, but that’s where natural aptitude is born.  No one was going to deny Judi’s astute, artistic temperament and shooting in Shanghai was a must, not camera-friendly Hong Kong.  Most days hit record highs of 100 degrees, accompanied by heavy rain in the evening.  The humidity was unbearable, even the camera broke out in a sweat.  Up at 5am, home by 1:30am.  Day after day.  I just finished shooting possibly one of the most pivotal scenes for the movie, a scene that captivated the intrinsic nature of the characters soul, a scene so powerful that Daniel Day Lewis and Charlie Chaplin would have been proud.  A couple of minutes later, the scene disappeared from the camera. Due to lack of sleep and ten, fifteen hour long days in a row, I remember throwing up in the train station before we boarded our train to the ancient water city. With all of my doubts and second-guessing, was I suffering the consequences of indie filmmaking?  Nevertheless, I was in Shanghai to examine the mind of a young novelty enthusiast, explore his fundamental core.  All of us were on a mission to prove our unbending indie principles and strong diet of independent filmmaking.

The days unfolded quickly and the 15-day shoot came to a halt. After we wrapped production, I remember sitting in the back of a taxi purposefully staring at neon lights and wondering about how much we all love independent film stories that proceed from genuine feelings.  My eyes welled up because I knew that this was my fate and kept thinking a sense of pride in oneself will only survive through self-sacrifice and widespread respect for others in the indie world.  The universal ‘indie-spirit’ theme we all shared was built upon trust and warm approval of each other’s actions, desires to explore human behavior and to seek the powers of our own imaginations.

The journey back to Los Angeles started.  After all the trials and tribulations in Shanghai, I found myself in the City of Angels directionless and in a consistent state of feeling bored.  I missed the culture, literature, the performing arts, food, the artistic awareness, the good times, the bad times and most importantly the warmth of the Chinese people.  What an ungratifying life not being apart of something you truly feel free doing.  A week passed by and my phone rang, it was Mr. James Choi or Judi, I couldn’t remember.  “Ni hao”, I said.   They replied, “Pack your bags, your going back to Shanghai.”

“Reshoots”.

Made in China is now available on VOD through IFC Films. Check your local listings at: http://www.ifcfilms.com/films/made-in-china

Jackson Kuehn was born in Austin, Texas but was raised all across the U.S. from California to New York. He attended New York University Tisch School of Arts and MADE IN CHINA is his first feature as a leading man. Jackson currently resides in Hollywood.