TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING

Internet video is the new TV. I don't doubt it for a moment. But we're still some way off from knowing just how this is all going to shake down. Just check out the plethora of video sharing sites I compiled below, something that can only be considered a partial list (and I don't even bother mentioning the obvious YouTube or Google Video). Many of these sites you've probably never heard of, and many won't exist this time next year I suspect. In the meantime, enjoy the chaos!

www.veoh.com
www.revver.com
www.vimeo.com
www.green.tv
www.neave.tv
www.grouper.com
www.videoegg.com
www.atomfilms.com
www.eyespot.com
www.jumpcut.com
www.ifilm.com
www.vsocial.com
www.turnherefilmmakers.com
www.metacafe.com
www.brightcove.com
http://video.yahoo.com/currenttv
http://stage6.divx.com/
www.blip.tv
www.eefoof.com
www.lulu.tv
www.youare.tv
www.panjea.com

YOUTUBE'S AMATEUR VIDEO REVOLUTION OVER ALREADY?

That's the conclusion drawn by Scott Kirsner in his interview with National Public Radio. You see, since CBS and the other major TV networks have got in on the YouTube game, videos like David Letterman Meets Borat are generating more views than 99.999% of the amateur videos out there. Kirsner argues that the vanguard of many artistic and technological revolutions have favored the amateur, but that "the pros" eventually enter the milieu and wind up dominating. I don't doubt that this is happening with online content. But I entirely disagree with Kirsner's headline proclaiming the end of the "amateur revolution." Because no matter how many hits David Letterman gets on YouTube, no matter how slick Internet video becomes (and the bar will be raised ever higher, as audiences demand better production values), the true nature of this revolution remains, at its heart, the simple fact that any individual with an Internet connection now has access to the same audience as these "pros." It's this access for amateurs, and not the volume of amateurs who survive competition from the pros, that forms the basis of this revolution.

The distinction lies in this: the amateur video revolution should not (and thankfully won't) allow for every mediocre video-maker to find a real audience, at least not enough of an audience to make money from yet to be determined revenue generators. That's not the revolution we should be contemplating. Because NBC can probably do a LonelyGirl15 better than anyone at home can. They can cast it and finance it and write it, using a hand-picked stable of Hollywood talent. And even more importantly, will we even want LonelyGirl15 anymore, or has the novelty of videos from attractive and vacuously insightful teenage girls finally worn off? Do we really want any more "Household Object Explodes In My Microwave" videos? The revolution is entirely contained in the fact that some content creators will rise through the long tail fray of a billion online videos to become bona fide hits, and they will arrive there without the help of Hollywood. Even if we watch more and more content generated by the big machine of Hollywood, we will still stumble on some kid--or some old lady for that matter--who has something fresh and original to show us. Talent will out. Whether that's a few thousand new creators or tens of thousands, the fact is that some artists, writers and filmmakers will find their way to our television every week who would never have got there through the traditional network television route. The free market of ideas will be determined by audiences and not by Hollywood executives.

I wouldn't be surprised to see the next wave of film wunderkinds all born of the digital camcorder, employing a "new look," a "new ethos," a style which only in retrospect will we identify as something important, just as we identify the French New Wave. I even predict a wider appreciation of film as art in general. We will simply become more film-savvy as audiences, even in spite of the proliferation of frat boy pranks caught on tape. Because we will also be exposed to innovative and original creations which Hollywood would never have considered making. And then, with our minds opened up, we'll hunger for more of that fresh innovation. There are certain "rules" for screenwriting and filmmaking, which Hollywood has refined to a science, and granted, these rules are often grounded in some practical realities that make for better movies. But as soon as it all becomes a "science" it also becomes repetitive--audiences are hungering for new entertainment (we're eating up movies on DVD and downloads at an exponential pace). So just watch as the increasing number of filmmakers come to prominence from outside the Hollywood system, as they entertain us even while stretching and breaking these Hollywood rules. Hollywood's trite re-hashes of yet another action thriller or romantic comedy will shrink ever further in the marketplace.

Making Movies From Anywhere

Truly democratized filmmaking means that aspiring writers and directors don’t have to move to Hollywood anymore. And there’s no better example to prove the point than Steve Balderson, a filmmaker who studied at the California Institute of the Arts before returning to his small hometown of Wamego, Kansas, where he set out to make movies. And good movies too. Balderson’s Firecracker, produced with his father and friends, made it onto Roger Ebert’s list of favorite films for 2005. (I bought the DVD and loved it.) But perhaps more to the point for the digital revolutionary, Balderson also made a documentary, Wamego:Making Movies From Anywhere, which chronicles his experience financing and shooting a feature film from a small American town, including a few brushes with Hollywood heavyweights like Dennis Hopper. He’s selling the doc for “free + $15 shipping,” which seems quite reasonable to me. While Balderson shoots on 35mm, his underlying philosophy is distinctly DIY and an inspiration to any digital filmmaker. And while a film released a year ago might seem like “old news” to all of us used to worldwide marketing blitzes from the majors, it sometimes takes a bit more time for self-distributed fare to gain market momentum. I wager you’ll be hearing more about Steve Balderson in the months and years to come.

What the World Needs Now Is More Digital Filmmakers

"More digital filmmakers you say?" Yup, that's exactly what I said. Even in the face of tens of thousands of films being created every year, a multi-fold increase over the number of films shot five years ago (forgive me, I don't have the accurate stats, but there's little argument that, thanks to digital, film production has increased exponentially in the past few years--just ask film festivals who generally received up to 50% more film submissions this year over last). And yes, many, many films being produced by every college kid with a 24P camera are dreck. But there's a political, moral and philosophical reason to keep as many hands on as many cameras as possible. Especially in Canada. And that reason is the shocking concentration of media ownership in so few hands. The Canadian Senate's Transport and Communications Committee concluded that "the concentration of ownership has reached levels that few other countries would consider acceptable." There are single corporate entities that own newspapers, high-speed internet providers, television stations, satellite communications companies, and more, all within the same Canadian regions. When corporate ownership is this concentrated, the possiblity for corruption starts to become a probability. I mean, how does a journalist criticize the content of a television program when the journalist's boss owns that television program? When ownership is that concentrated, the power over what the citizens read and hear becomes disconcertingly vulnerable to manipulation by singular corporate interests. And that's just what the Senate's committee thought too. "[W]e feel that the fewer voices that are out there, the less the public is served," says Senator Jim Munson. Peter Murdoch, Vice-President of the Communications, Energy and Paperworkers Union of Canada is a bit less diplomatic: "It's not just outrageous or appalling. It's scary."

Meanwhile, the media mega-conglomerates are insisting they need to exploit "convergence" in order to survive the competition of things like Internet video and other forms of online entertainment. And the Canadian government seems to be buying into that argument. Please read Antonia Zerbisias's article (printed in one of the few remaining Candian media sources not owned by Bell Globemedia) to get a sense of how some journalists are finding these developments as frightening as I am. And the irony for the big corporations is that the concentration of media in so few hands only encourages, and indeed necessitates, more individuals to get out there and make movies, to write blogs, and deliver podcasts, in order to satisfy the need for diverse opinions and ideas. The same can be said for every country in the world--artists, writers and filmmakers have historically been relied upon to give us a wake up call whenever we need one. So please, I beg you dear reader, shoot more shitty movies.

Where Moguls Fear to Tread...

...so go I, the digital filmmaker. Wired has an interesting article on Hollywood's aversion to "true" science-fiction. After Aranofsky's The Fountain failed to deliver big box office, movie studios take it as another sign that "traditional" science-fiction (rather than the action and effects-driven vehicles like Superman Returns) is a genre which doesn't offer a return on investment. But as the Wired article also points out, "Studios are in the process of figuring out how to reach...the "native digital" audiences, sci-fi fans that grew up online and who now spend their time at YouTube and MySpace."

Well, I say who better to figure out what reaches the "native digital" audiences than the "native digital" audiences themselves, i.e., you! With fascinating and compelling fare like Primer, a sci-fi film shot for $7000 or Firefly Pete Marcy's brilliant feature shot on a DVX100 for $5000, I believe that the most original "traditional" science-fiction--science fiction that values ideas over effects--is truly the realm of the digital filmmaker. "Cyber-clones, go forth and colonize. Leader out."

What's in a Name?

Dearest Reader, I am referring to the illustrious name of this blog, "Fuck You Too And the Porsche You Rode In On." I felt that I should provide a bit of perspective on what the blog's name means for me and for you, the digital revolutionary:

1) Besides how it just feels good to say "fuck you" to those who deserve it, the blog's name is obviously a shout out from a writer and filmmaker with a chip on both shoulders about our media establishment. After all, until very recently they have enjoyed a disproportionate control over the destinies of creators--and they'll continue to hold sway a little while longer until access to filmmaking is entirely democratized (and it will be). Yes, "revenge is a dish best served by writers," I like to say (and I like to say it especially cuz I made it up).

2) This blog's title is deliberately subversive, if a bit sophomoric. While there's something thrilling about the words "fuck you," to actually have the words instantly published for the world to see, well that's just downright empowering. Sort of like the first time I wrote something on a bathroom wall. It was third grade and I wrote the words "Pink Dink" in ballpoint pen with my heart in my throat. I'll never forget it. Someone would read those words, I thought. I put them there, and in the privacy of this stall no one would ever know it was me. So this blog's title takes me back to that thrill of doing something naughty. And if ever there was a time for filmmakers to be naughty, it's now. The threat of studio executives being able to control the content we create vanishes more so every day. You can create a television show with tits and cocks and swear words if you want. If you think revealing body parts in all their glory keeps your creation truer to your artistic vision, there's no reason to compromise. Write it and shoot it and get it out there for us to see. The ultimate arbiter of taste will be the consumer of your creation, not advertisers or executives.

Art needs subversion. Subversion needs art. And don't for a moment think that there's a single great artistic endeavor, including every film "classic," that hasn't contained a healthy dose of subversion. The digital revolution is subversion. Embrace it. Use it. Fuck it.

What's in a Name? (Part II)

You might have noticed, all three of you, that the title of this blog isn't the same as the blog's URL address. The blog's URL address is http://mewanthorsie. blogspot.com/ (or "me want horsie" for those of you incapable of deciphering personalized licence plates). At the time I created this blog, I didn't really know why I chose that. It was instinct and a riff on the "horse you rode in on" theme. But only today did I realize there was more to it (a writer's subconscious is ever at work)...and it has a lot to do with a profound shift in the ways I am now consuming film and TV.

You've heard it before: The distribution and consumption of film is changing forever. And like you (and a whole bunch of Brits), I watch less TV than I used to. In fact, there are shows I really want to see because of the good word-of-mouth, like NBC's Heroes, but I don't even know what night they're on and I just don't have the will anymore to bother figuring that out. Because my HABITS have changed. Keep in mind that a habit is something that isn't necessarily good for you, nor rational. It's just what we default towards out of, well...habit. And my habit is not to even look at a TV schedule, nor to care about what that schedule might reveal. A sexy scandalous new TV movie? Whatevah. An all new episode of Lost? I just don't feel like organizing my life around it. And with the increase in serialized storylines (shows that tell on-going stories that evolve over a season, rather than self-contained shows like Law & Order) I just can't bear to watch a show partway through a series having missed so much supposedly "good stuff." I want to start with episode one. Call me obsessive compulsive, my therapist does.

So instead, I watch good TV on DVD, so I can watch it whenever I want. The downside, obviously, is the long wait until the show is released on disc. So, what will bring me back to "network television"? Downloadable content that's what. I realize just how much the Internet has re-programmed my viewing appetite. I don't want to be home on Thursday night at 8 pm to catch a show. I can barely remember to eat dinner let alone keep a specific hour of my life free for a television program that might be a repeat or pre-empted by a football game. And I most definitely don't want to fiddle with a contraption I don't even own to record the show for me (a la TiVo or what have you).

To sum up what I want: well...me want horsie, that's what! The immortal words of a petulant, spoiled child who gets what she wants, when she wants. I want to Google the show, click download and a few minutes thereafter, I wanna watch it. Give me a link to Heroes right now and I swear to gawd I'll give it whirl. Note: BitTorrent is a lot of work and full of viruses and incomplete or bogus files. And I'm not talking about stealing programs anyhow. I'm talking about being more than happy to pay for them, or alternatively accept the advertisements contained therein. Get downloadable Internet content on my TV now and someone will be making a fortune off me and my brethren. Microsoft is already in on the game--they smell the revolution. Check out Xbox Live, which is allowing for video rental downloads, including HD movies and TV programs. So strange how quickly the traditional model of television delivery seems completely counter-intuitive. We will gravitate to whatever technology suits our fundemental nature. And rushing through traffic so I don't miss the first ten minutes of "Who Cares" doesn't suit my nature any longer. I want my MTV whenever I want it, from whomever I want it, and for that matter I want to be able to make my own MTV too. Feed me, Seymour. Me want horsie, now!

THE PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN THE CAMERA

As a rabid believer in the cult of DIY filmmaking, I found Craig Mazin's Nov 5 post, "A Widening Chasm Part II" over at Artful Writer to be particularly relevant. The blog in general is wonderfully revolutionary, advocating strategies for empowering the much neglected screenwriter. And the reason I find the Widening Chasm post particularly prescient is that it's speaking of a trend which dovetails so well (and probably not so coincidentally) with the "democratization of filmmaking" (i.e., the notion that soon anyone can get their hands on a good "film" camera and editing system). Mazin discusses the recent shift in film financing models wherein risk averse studios are being "scooped" by private financiers on some of the most creatively interesting projects. An artist like Sacha Baron Cohen, for example, is retaining control both creatively and financially by using private financing to produce his next film, which he will then in turn SELL to a studio which can still do a handy job of marketing and distribution. Mazin points out that the trend is growing. It's a model that allows a writer and director to package their own film and retain greatly increased creative and financial control (to the tune of millions more right into the artist's pocket).

For me, it's exciting to read about artists owning their work, but I find it particularly interesting that this shift in film financing coincides with the digital revolution, which is putting video cameras in everyone's hands. While many blogs herald the increased power to filmmakers as a result of the digital revolution (even the likes of Atom Egoyan state that he'll simply make his films using digital means if a studio were to ever threaten his final cut authority), in fact it's the writers who stand to benefit the most. And here's why.

In the end, when film is so democratized that everyone has access to a good "film" camera, it's the writer (who may also be the director, but often is not) who will be revealed as the rarest commodity. Yes, Hollywood and stars and big-shot directors have long declared their devotion to "good material," but the fact is writers are treated like shite. To paraphrase Joe Esterhas, Hollywood accepts the adage that "nobody knows anything," but everyone still thinks they know everything about screenwriting. You see, screenwriting, well it's just typing after all. Or failing that, we all know how to print in block letters with a crayon (thank you Mrs. Rumsey, I loved kindergarten). Yes, the talented writer has always been rare, but apparently not so rare that he doesn't take a serious back seat to "the money" (that is, people in suits who control the millions of dollars traditionally required to secure the necessary crews and equipment to make a film). Certainly, writers have been considered much less important than the director who does technically baffling magic tricks with cinematographic machines and dangerously hot lights. Ah, but the financial barriers controlled by the studios are eroding--the Avid suite that once cost a million bucks can now be had for the price of a thousand dollar PC and some pirated software. And the mystery of the directors' tools is eroding too. How ironic that in the end, it's the humble quill pen that could win out. That's my prediction.

Because soon every kid in school will be able to shoot pretty pictures with the visual lattitude and dreamy resolution of 35mm film (just check out the Red Camera). Oh, and the same high school kid can add stunning Hollywood-level visual effects right from his home computer too. The necessary equipment simply gets more powerful and cheaper every day. I believe that in the near future, everyone will try her hand at filmmaking--at least once, and probably dismally--just as I'm sure every last literate human has at least tried to write a novel, only to get no further than the first paragraph. I think the demand for stories will only go up as the number of films being produced increases exponentially too. Finally, all the lovely moving images which so many aspiring filmmakers are churning out daily will highlight more than ever how a film needs a great writer. It will be the product with brilliant writing that will stand out, not so much the product with production values. You see, everyone will have production values.

Of course, a talented cinematographer is a talent to behhold, but I have a feeling that cameras and the directors who wield them will soon be relegated to that place where they're seen as a little more "replaceable"--the same corner where writers have cowered so long--and maybe the mighty pen will assume its rightful place at last.

BACK TO HOME.

Funny Shit for Free

Watch some funny shit for free on Comedy Central's site, including "Awesome Friends" the funny ass short made by the winner of their user-made comedy pilot contest.

Why would I refer you to a mega-exploiter like Comedy Central? Isn't this blog supposed to be about the digital revolution? Reason is cuz a digital revolutionary made "Awesome Friends." The poor guy just hasn't realized that he doesn't need Comedy Central to make his fortune as a talented creative dude. Well, okay, maybe he does today in October 2006...maybe. But the time is coming very soon when self-distributed content, through creator/user generated sites will offer content which is just as funny as Comedy Central. Maybe funnier. Just as there is currently a plethora of blogs that cherry pick good news stories from around the world, thereby serving as a much needed filter for all the Internet crap, similarly there will arise YouTubes and MetaCafes with highly selected content. Then where will Comedy Central be? Or NBC? Or any of them? Google has demonstrated that ad revenues can generate money, and many video content sites intend to pay content creators. It's only a matter of time before these Internet sites can match the big money of the Hollywood networks and studios (these sites would have vastly smaller overhead than networks and studios too). And the content these sites provide can attract just as many viewers. That's one scenario for the Revolution. There are many. But no two ways about it, it's coming. Just check out the buzz about sites like:

The Venice Project - a well-capitalized site that claims its content will transform the landscape of television

The Daily Reel - a site that hand-picks their choice of video content. Sounds like a TV channel to me--the line is certainly blurring between TV and the web.

Brightcove - one of many new online video companies that proposes pay systems to content creators, and also hosts an amalgamation of homemade content and Hollywood bits.

The list goes on on and on. Time will tell which of the plethora of online technologies/destinations will survive longterm and become the standards.

Now if you watch "Awesome Friends," you'll note that the production values are seriously low. Personally, I think it adds to the flavor of this particular show. But don't let this fool you that we need the big studios to make stuff look as good as network TV--the fact is, production values are becoming increasingly available to all of us. This guy preserved a distinctly "naive" look (to borrow from the Art Historian assholes) and low-budg values; however, the advanced compositing and animation tools that were previously available only to mega-studios are now available for your home computer. Just check out "The Ore" to see a sampling of how pretty "home-made" production values can look.

The next Steven Colbert (gawd love him, because I do) will be broadcasting political commentary from a desk in his living room and selling directly to consumers via self-distribtuion (or collective distribution run by more artist-friendly outlets). Networks like Comedy Central know they have to try their hand at this Internet stuff or become irrelevant--especially because they try to occupy that fickle and ephemeral niche of weird sophomoric comedy for teenagers. Even Barry Diller, an uber-guru of giant mega-meanies, has stated that,

"...being a media company, in the old sense of the word, meant being a distributor. And distributors controlled scarce resources, like a national chain of theaters or TV stations. They were the ones who originally owned the radio licenses, which then begat the television licenses, which then had those groups take over or be taken over by old-line movie companies. They were all scarcity distribution systems. But now, the Internet enables self-publishing, which means that the distribution leverage – the chokepoints – is going to evaporate. It doesn’t matter who buys what – new audience is going to be created somewhere, by somebody, that you can’t buy...if you asked me whether a broadcast network has enduring value – I’m not so sure." (see Forbes Meet)

But, dear Comedy Central, trying your hand at the Internet thing still won't stop the fact that the creators will hold the power. Their content will rule. Finally content is truly king.