A Little Banjo Music

Yesterday was Labor Day. Which means we had to spend at least part of the day doing some sort of labor, right?

How about a little work in the recording studio... In this case, recording a little music with "Jed" and his banjo... for one of the film projects we're working on.



How did you spend your Labor Day weekend?

James Fair On The 72-Hour Movie Project – Getting Funded (Pt. 2 of 5)

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Fourteen months ago at the Galway Film Fleadh in Ireland, my producer Gary Hoctor and I sat opposite Ted Hope. We were pitching our 72 Hour Movie project and Ted was listening intently. The majority of the producers and financiers we met in the large hall that day listened intently, but unfortunately none could offer us money. Admittedly, Ted helped us a great deal by giving a few pointers, along with fellow American Richard Abramowitz; many of the Europeans only offered tea and sympathy. A year later our 72 Hour Movie project ‘The Ballad of Des & Mo’ was in the audience top ten at the Melbourne International Film Festival (MIFF). So how did we get from the rejection in Galway to Melbourne in those twelve months?

The project we pitched in Galway was a unique package. Gary Hoctor’s company Hello Camera had been invited to shoot, edit and screen a feature-length movie in three days at MIFF 2010, one of the largest film festivals in the southern hemisphere. The screening at the festival was guaranteed. We had a few key partnerships lined up. We had developed a proposal and treatment. All we needed was some cash to get the project going. But the ‘unique selling points’ of the project were also the sticking points for potential investors. “We don’t want to finance a process, we want to finance a product” was a common complaint. “We can’t really commit without a script” was another. This was all understandable. We were approaching companies with something that did not fit neatly into their core business. Whilst our innovative project got us a slot at the festival, our non-existent business plan didn’t indicate how people would buy into it.

Describing the 72 Hour Movie project as innovative has become a nice way of saying that ‘it isn’t usually the way we do business’. In a market that is currently risk averse, financiers are looking for sure-shots not belly flops. Despite the 72-project being offered a guaranteed slot at a major festival; that is never the start point of a traditional deal, whereas it might be a possible end-point. The financiers always ask the same questions which are based upon their experience of potential markets and previous successes. If your project doesn’t fit into that model – forget it. If you are being truly innovative, then all traditional avenues are most likely closed to you. You are rewriting the rulebook and you are on your own. Whilst our project wasn’t so unique that it was incomprehensible, it was different enough for most funding streams to walk away. Therefore we had to become innovative in all areas to succeed. What began as a project for innovative production workflow in a tight timeframe became an innovative project in production finance also.

We worked out a strategy of who would be interested in our project. What were our assets? We have a platform for exposure. So who wants to advertise on this platform? Who would want to be associated with film, digital technology, innovation and workflow? We developed lists upon lists of potential sponsors. We developed a matrix of what we could offer them, from the whole deal to the sponsorship of a crew meal. We went about organising meetings and pitches. This took up most of our time in 12 months before production and we only found one third of what we had originally intended. But we got enough from a gamut of sources to make it happen, from research grants and corporate sponsorship through to private contributions from our Facebook supporters.

But let’s go back to why a lot of people couldn’t see what the point of our project was. “So what if you can film a feature in three days?” “If the story is shit then there isn’t a product. Furthermore, if it were a good script, I’d rather raise more cash and see you film it properly than rush it.” These arguments seem valid from the traditional perspective. The major cost problem within film and television tends to come from two particular elements – the writing and the star performer, and both are seen as ‘must-haves’ if the film is to succeed. The cost of actual production isn’t the greatest headache, so the three days seems pointless.

However, this is a very linear approach to thinking about filmmaking. It is based around the dilemma of the production triangle, a concept whereby we all live with our wants and needs challenged by the parameters of time, quality and cost. If you want something fast and cheap, it won’t be good quality. If you want something cheap and quality, you’ll have to wait. If you want something quality and fast, it won’t be cheap. You can only ever have two sides of the triangle.

It would therefore seem inconcievable that you could make something of quality that quickly and cheaply. But like I said in yesterday’s post – the problem is that the creators cannot determine the quality, the audience dictates quality. Just because you spend $100million on a movie, it doesn’t mean it will be any good. We asked investors to believe that we could break that triangle, shooting quickly and cheaply yet still making something of quality. Common sense would suggest that it isn’t possible, but there is no common sense in a paradigm shift, all traditional ways of thinking are challenged!

Whilst it is valid to use the quality of a script as an indicator of financial feasibility of a project, it should not be the deciding factor. Firstly, placing too higher emphasis on the script is what drives up the price of writers! Secondly, and this was the case in the 72, the script won’t always be the starting point of the process in future. Technology enables us to make films cheaper and quicker than ever before, and it is that immediacy and transparency of process that created quality, not the script. The process is the product. With the 72, followers could invest as much or as little time and attention in our process as they would like. They could engage and discuss story ideas, suggest locations and put forward their music or their acting resume. There was a sense of ownership and growth in the process that meant people had an invested interest in seeing it succeed. The idea that we can engage and collectively share an event only moments after it was made has the same level of appeal that audiences had 100 years ago seeing the places they recognised on the silent screen. The process can be magical too… but more importantly, the script was dictated by the process; not vice versa, as I will explain further tomorrow.

James Fair is a lecturer in Film Technology at Staffordshire University, UK. He has directed two features in 72 hours. The first film, ‘Watching & Waiting’, was shot in Galway, Ireland, as part of the 20^th Film Fleadh in July 2008. The second film, ‘The Ballad of Des & Mo’, was shot in Melbourne, Australia, as part of the 59^th International Film Festival in 2010.

James Fair On The 72-Hour Movie Project – The Aims & Objectives (Pt. 1 of 5)

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

By James Fair

One month ago I led a team of filmmakers (of varying experience) into shooting and editing a feature length movie upon RED in 72 hours, and then screening it to a festival audience at the Melbourne International Film Festival (MIFF) in Australia. The purpose was to demystify the filmmaking process and illustrate that it could be done differently. The film ‘The Ballad of Des & Mo’ has been deemed a success by those involved as it successfully played to a sell-out audience at the Australian Centre for Moving Image and made it into the Top Ten Audience Favourites of the entire festival. This is no small feat considering we only screened once, with only a fraction of the budget of the other films, and filmed within three days of our screening. Over five posts for Truly Free Film, I want to share some of my findings from the process.

Let me provide you with some context. I first found myself making a feature in three days at the Galway Film Fleadh in 2008, after I had made a drunken bet with a producer in Dublin that it was possible. Once that film was successfully completed, we screened it out-of-competition at Berlinale in February 2009 and whilst there, MIFF invited us to repeat the feat in Melbourne. As micro-budget filmmakers we didn’t feel that we could turn the opportunity down, despite the fact that making a film on the other side of the world with no money is pretty hard.

From the very outset, producer Gary Hoctor and I roughly organised certain aims and objectives that would infuse the culture of the project:

Do as much production through freeware as possible.

• Communication will take place through Skype.
• The script will be written and drafted in Celtx.
• We’ll share documents through Google Docs.

Make a quality film.

• Shoot on RED at 4K resolution.
• Try and get star power.

Be transparent about the process.
• Develop a website (built by www.pointblank.ie) that is content heavy with our tweets and vlogs.
• Develop a Facebook fan page where we will post news and interact directly with supporters.
• Write guest blogs for various established sites (TFF included) that will help channel new audiences to us, whilst offering the chance to get our ideas across.

Exploit the project more than before.

• We needed more publicity in order for the project to have value outside of Melbourne. ‘Watching & Waiting’ was a success but had little impact outside of Galway.

These objectives were our guiding lights throughout. You’ll notice that there isn’t a great deal about the film in there, other than ‘shoot on RED’ and ‘try to get star power’! It seems a little ludicrous to write an aim like ‘make a quality film’, as if anyone writes ‘make a bad film’. It was a general assumption that we wanted to make a good film, but these two objectives were things that we felt identified a tangible barometer of our success. I don’t actually believe that ‘quality’ can be defined by the image resolution of the picture or the 7.1 sound mix. I think this is a misunderstanding with a lot of filmmakers – they believe ‘quality’ can be translated as ‘good production’, ‘neat finishing’ or ‘smooth camera movement’. Quality is an attribute assigned by the audience, not something that can be bought by the producer. I decide whether I think something is quality or not, not the packaging of the product that I buy. I think has film has been quality if I feel like my $20 ticket was worth it.

I digress. These aims and objectives were essential to us because they became points of reference throughout the production. When problems occurred (and they always do) we had a set of common goals that we could refer to. Interestingly enough, I can identify one textbook mistake with our aims and objectives that are causing headaches now – we never had an exit strategy with what to do with the film once done. And now we are faced with the same predicaments of regular filmmaking; ‘where do we go from here?’ In our defence, it felt like a probable jinx to plan a future for the film beyond the production as it could have gone horribly wrong, but it seems a little stupid to hide behind superstition in something otherwise so methodical.

Aims and objectives are a critical part of the scientific method. I have become increasingly attracted to this approach to filmmaking as we delve deeper into the paradigm shift of the digital evolution. I believe the rules are changing within the film industry and therefore I see great value in identifying a hypothesis and then working towards it through trial and error. Otherwise I believe it is difficult to establish effective results, and we find ourselves trying to draw conclusions from examples that don’t necessarily present the whole picture.

Let me give you a clearer example. My motivation was to prove a feature film could be made in 72 hours, and I identified ways of fulfilling it through the redesign of organisational structure. But let’s say your hypothesis was to make a film that made a clear and demonstrable profit of 125%. How would you do it? Can it be done? I believe it can, because I believe anything is possible. But can it be repeatable? Can it be done so that I can do it and you can do it too? That is harder, right?

Well I’m sure that people have these personal aims in their mind. But do they have the objectives: the ways of achieving it? Do they approach the movie with the 125% as their starting point? Or do they start with the assumption that the only way they are going to make that profit if they start with a good script? My point here is about process. We always use pretty much the same process regardless of our aims or objectives.

Revisit our objectives for the 72 Hour Movie project. Where did we ever write that we wanted a good script? That was the first hurdle that we came across when it came to getting funding for the project, because everyone wanted to fund a film, not a process. I’ll tell you more about that tomorrow.

James Fair is a lecturer in Film Technology at Staffordshire University, UK. He has directed two features in 72 hours. The first film, ‘Watching & Waiting’, was shot in Galway, Ireland, as part of the 20^th Film Fleadh in July 2008. The second film, ‘The Ballad of Des & Mo’, was shot in Melbourne, Australia, as part of the 59^th International Film Festival in 2010.

A Nice Paragraph Capturing Reality Of Today

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

I recently had the pleasure of coming across this fine bit of reading, and I thought it summed up our current state of the film biz quite well. And heck, it may even protect you from some liabilities down the road…

The Parties hereby acknowledge that there is presently no executed agreement with any distributor to distribute the Picture. The success of the Picture will be dependent upon the Company’s ability to complete the Picture, the attractiveness of the final product to distributors and the distributors’ willingness to commit substantial sums to promote the Picture successfully. The Company will not have the financial capability to distribute the Picture itself. The gross revenue derived from the Picture is dependent, among other things, upon the interest of distributors and their ability to obtain suitable distribution via theatrical, television, home video, and/or other media, and in selecting proper release dates and appropriate advertising and promotion for the Picture. The negotiation of final distribution agreements, which frequently occurs (if at all) near the time of completion of motion pictures, will have a substantial impact upon the amount of receipts available to the Company from the exploitation of the Picture. There is no assurance that such negotiations will result in revenues or profits to the Company. Furthermore, although the Company has agreed to use commercially reasonable efforts to cause the Picture to be distributed, there is no assurance that the Picture will be distributed or that such distribution will be profitable to the Company. The fact that any distributor derives profits from its distribution of the Picture will not, in turn, assure that the Company will also derive profits therefrom.

Eric Bogosian on "subUrbia"

What point were you at in your career before you started the play version of subUrbia?

ERIC BOGOSIAN: Talk Radio (the play and the film) as well as the solo show Sex, Drugs Rock & Roll had garnered much greater interest in my work. Most importantly, excellent young actors were attracted to my script.

Do you begin with story, character or theme?

ERIC BOGOSIAN: I begin with character and theme. The theme dances around in my head, almost like an editing device as I put my characters in motion with a story. But before anything, I think of the people who will populate my stage.

In the case of subUrbia, I began with five student actors in workshop playing the characters. I had them simply hanging out and discussing a variety of topics. There was no plot to speak of in the first set of pages.

How did you create the characters?

ERIC BOGOSIAN: The characters are there within me. They are the archetypes I "need" to conceptualize my inner world. In the case of subUrbia the cast of characters derived almost directly from the cast of characters who, in my mind, represent my friends from my high school days.

In some cases, the characters are transpositions of myself. There are parts of myself in Jeff, Pony, Sooze and Nazeer.

How important is having a theme before you start to write?

ERIC BOGOSIAN: I always begin with a theme. It usually morphs as I'm writing but in the long run, the theme must have importance for me in the present, as I'm writing. I need the theme to do my writing, but I don't mind if the audience doesn't see the theme or misunderstands what the theme is.

In the case of subUrbia I don't think many people "got" the theme as I originally conceived it. (And what is that? you might ask. My answer is: Too complicated to explain, that's why I write plays. If I wrote themes, I would be a scholar and write thesisses.)

When it came time to adapt it into a screenplay, were you writing to a specific, pre-determined budget?

ERIC BOGOSIAN: I'm sure there was a set budget, but I didn't know what it was. Rick Linklater acted as producer with his company. All I knew was that we would hew closely to the play and that I could "open" up to other locales if I so wished. And I did.

In making the adaptation, were there any moments that you hated to lose?

ERIC BOGOSIAN: No. I look at movies very differently than stage. If a moment is a moment that works on film, I keep it. But film demands that the story continue to unfold. That being the case, I snipped away at some of the longer more static speeches in the play and I don't regret it.

How did you work with Linklater?

ERIC BOGOSIAN: Rick gave me my head, so to speak. He wanted the screenplay to be as close to what I wanted as it could be. We created a script that we liked, that met the needs for length. I did all the cutting of the original.

We ironed out some thematic/action aspects in the last moments, especially when Tim is telling off Jeff in the parking lot, throwing food at the store. It had taken the entire run of the play and another production of the play for me to understand what was really happening there.

Beyond that, we reached a conundrum at the very end, tried different endings, actually shot them and finally decided to stick with what we had.

What did you learn from working on that script that you still use today?

ERIC BOGOSIAN: It's good to have a sense of how the director is going to shoot the film, what sort of style. In this case, Rick used a lot of two-shots and it was constructive to know that in terms of scene rhythm.

Do you think there's really such a thing as an "independent" movie?

ERIC BOGOSIAN: I don't know what "independent" means to other people. Having written and acted for film and television studios, I do feel that the corporate presence overloads the writing task at hand with "too many cooks."

My two features (subUrbia and Talk Radio, directed by Oliver Stone) and one TV series (High Incident with Steven Spielberg) were all "independent" of the studio in that the directors acted as producers. As such they were "independent" and as such, they gave me my independence.

Given our track record, I'm for more independence, especially for seasoned directors like Stone and Linklater. Once a director has established himself or herself, I think a studio should let him do his thing.

When that happens, and it does, (Gus Van Sant, Robert Altman, Tim Burton), the result is "independent" cinema.

Straying from the Truth

Some more thoughts on artifice and truth. (This post is really a continuation of last week's post.)

Screenwriter William Goldman, in his book Which Lie Did I Tell, says: "What is genuinely heroic in life many not work for film. It simply, as they say, won't shoot." Goldman goes on to tell a story how he personally once saved a kid from drowning. "In real life it was extraordinary. On film, nothing." (p.80-83)

In his book, he then recounts how he came across a heart-chilling true story of the heroic John Henry Patterson -- a man who hunted down and killed two man-eating lions in East Africa. "It took him nine months, but he got the first [lion]."

(Look at the photo... That's one of the lions.)

Then, after patiently waiting up in a tree, Patterson got the second lion.

What kind of movie would that have been? As Goldman put it: "For nine months he sits in a tree? Wow. For nine months, his plans mostly suck? Whoopee. For nine months he fails?"

In movie-making, sometimes you have to stray from the truth a bit. Shrink a time line. Meld several people into one character. Add a character to help move the story along.

But the key is this; you also need to remain true to the essence of the historical event or person. If you as the filmmaker can do that, than the movie based-on-a-true- story -- although you may have strayed from the truth -- will be truthful in the way that art is truthful.

(By the way, that's why historical movies tend to use the term "based" on a true story. As opposed to proclaiming: "A true story" or "This movie is 100% accurate in its historical depictions. Learn your history from us!")

The Hard Truth: Filmmaking Is Not A Job

This entry was originally published at Hope For Film

Unfortunately if I sought to get compensated for the work I do, my movies would not get made. If I sought to get paid like normal people are, I never would have been able to produce any of my films.

I have been fortunate enough to have made about sixty films in about twenty years. I am not foolish enough to think I was the deciding factor in bringing good ideas into cinematic being, but I do know that certain practices of mine, have helped significantly.  Yes, it is also true that good work begets other good work, and a track record certainly helps — particularly a track record of profitability — but generally all of my films depend on two things to get made: 1) superior quality of the material, and 2) the willingness of the collaborators to make great sacrifices.

There’s more though on why these films have happened; there have been commonalities amongst all the films that have helped significantly in their getting made.  I have to repeatedly go out on the limb, believing in the film and the filmmaker for years on end, with no remuneration, pushing to make the project better, figuring out how in the hell to bring more “value” to it, shopping it, strategizing and the like.

I am highly selective in my choices to get involved with a project and as a result some of my movies get made and it usually only takes 3 years of my unpaid labor to do so. And then generally after we get the films financed, and the budget locked, I far too often have to make further sacrifices with my fees and “perqs”.  I am not complaining; these are my choices.  My eyes are open.  But when I talk to other producers, particularly new ones, often they don’t believe it.  Being a film producer requires abandoning the concept that you work for a living.

My first five or six years in the business I had jobs.  I exchanged my labor, ideas, and relationships for the ability to survive.  I came from very modest means, put myself through film school, and sacrificed most things so I could get the movies I wanted to see done (cue violins please). And yes, occasionally along the way, I did some things generally to pay the bills or support my company.  If I had pursued a job or security initially though, none of it would not have gotten done.  If I had pursued money over responsibility and knowledge, my life would have taken a much different path.

We live to work, we should not have to work to live — but we do & maybe it is because most don’t realize part one.  Reading in The New York Times how 37% of Americans between the ages of 18 -29 are not in the work force, makes me wonder if they are all becoming producers.  I have not had the guarantee of a salary since generous overhead deals for producers went by the wayside.  This is also not a complaint.  This is my choice to use my labor to build the culture that I want.

I state all of this now because filmmakers of different sorts have also stated to me that they don’t want to do certain things when they are not getting paid for it.  Unfortunately I think that means, at least in terms of today, that their movies will not be getting made.  Well, maybe not so for those few true geniuses out there, but what are the rest of us to do?  Stop making movies?  I have watched movies not happen because of small budget discrepancies.  I have made errors seeking too much money for my films, and witnessed their death as a result.

I am not endorsing the practice of exploiting people for their labor.  Yet, I support people making the choice of using their labor, albeit not at it’s proper value, to deliver the culture they want.

Yes it would be great if there were some support structures in America beyond academic institutions that helped those that did not dabble in the most commercial of creative choices to support themselves.  Although, when I get to travel to the different countries, some of which have had film cultures benefit greatly, from the subsidies to the arts, I often find cultures with more rigid rules than ours as to what is “finance-able” film.  I have seen how subsidies may provide for employment across all categories, but also how they diminish the will for many to invest their labor for the sake of  growth or supporting an artist they believe in.

Still though it would be nice to get a little help or acknowledgement beyond the marketplace that your work matters.  Maybe first though, all of us need to demonstrate that we value and want a diverse and dynamic culture.  Maybe we need to work a little harder letting those values be known.  We need to show that there are communities throughout this land that love ambitious film and will vote with their time, labor, and dollars to bring it to their friends and neighbors.  Paying artists directly for their work will go a long way to making filmmaking a legitimate option when it comes to choosing how to earn a living in this country.

And in the meantime, we all have to continue to make real sacrifices to get our work done.  Either that or take a real job.