A Few Breadcrumbs For My Readers

More about the death of traditional TV and the revolution for independent filmmakers and entrepreneurs becoming the next new "broadcaster." Check out this podcast of interest, featuring an interview with Steve Safran from LostRemote.

Even some of the rich guys who scored all their money and power via old-world film technologies are hip to the digital revolution. There's a great article in the latest MovieMaker Magazine about Francis Ford Coppola, who predicted a revolution consisting of a "a girl with a video camera" some 20 years ago, and now insists the only way to go is to control your own distribution. George Lucas is pretty sure where things are headed too: check out the interview with Lucas over atThe Wall Street Journal.

Great New Look! Great New Flavour!

The grand dame of doubts in the digital revolution continues to be how DIY filmmakers can recoup their investments in their films and even make money. That is, in the giant glut of one billion bad home-made movies, how can the more capable, creative filmmakers fight their way through the long tail and maybe even pay the rent! Currently, the online revenues from video sites like Revver just don't add up to much. Even the truly viral videos (hundreds of thousands of views and up) might bring the filmmaker 30 or 40 thousand bucks. Not bad for a three minute short made in your basement. But they're the notable exception, rather than the rule. And it's still not a model for returning investment on quality (and more expensive) narrative films online.

Enter the big boys, like NBC or Sony, who will finance content to penetrate the rapidly growing online media marketplace--they have the muscle, track records and connections to sell ads on their sites, even if for the time being they see their online endeavors as loss-leaders (i.e., they simply want a toe-hold in the "mobile content" game).

But my gut has told me for some time that the DIY filmmaker--the truly indie artist making movies with sheer force of will and talent--can just as easily access ad dollars. It might not be money from Coca Cola, but maybe it's money from an up-and-coming local designer who will give you $5000 to prominently feature their clothing label in your movie. Or a regionally produced wine which gets significant "product placement" in your film--hey that regional wine producer might just kick in money if everyone on-screen gets shitfaced exclusively on the company's identifiably unique plonk. Well, it's starting to happen with upper-level indie projects. I foresee the same when savvy DIY filmmakers start to pound the pavement looking for private money. Check out this article from the LA Times wherein Lorena Muñoz writes:

In what could be the latest trend in the financing of independent films, Unilever brand Dove has agreed to invest $3 million — about one-fifth of the budget — into "The Women," the first theatrical movie by Diane English, the creative force behind the hit television series "Murphy Brown." Gatorade, the sports drink maker, quietly put up $3 million for the production of "Gracie," a story about a girls soccer team that is coming out this weekend.

"With low-budget movies you have to have different ways to create marketing efficiencies and leverage your ability to fund them," said Andrew Shue, producer of "Gracie." He said the seed money from Gatorade enabled him to raise an additional $7 million from a hedge fund. "This is absolutely something in the future for these kinds of movies that are smaller budget and under the studio threshold."

In an era where good content is immediately duplicated and torrented online, the prospects of selling individual DVDs to recoup investment dwindles more by the hour. There has to be a way to derive revenue from viral pirating, and the only way so far seems to be embedding the ads right into the content itself. Even episodic television traded online gets the ads deleted by the copiers, reducing the value of those ads to the ever-eroding traditional television delivery model. So, the ads must be inextricable from the content. And that is product placement--a concept that has invoked outrage in the past, with fears it might lead to some degradation of the integrity of the artistic product. But product placement already happens--from James Bonds' Omega wristwatch (cannily chosen over a Rolex in the last movie installment) to the choice of Jason Bourne's getaway vehicle. On a smaller scale, the DIY filmmaker can find like-minded "sponsors" who will be happy to see the filmmaker's movie "stolen" a million times around the world. Each act of piracy is another eyeball getting acquainted with the advertiser's product.

Rapid Pace of Change Means I Need To Take More Showers

Been rather busy as we near financing of a new mobile content series I created and which I'll be writing and directing. Having come from the world of television, it's an interesting exercise in taking those "old world" skills and translating them to new technologies. Certainly, shorter content suits my attention deficity nature. I really do love perfectly contained little stories. I could never write War and Peace. I do not have the "sitting power."

Anyhow, if the series goes ahead, I'll be blogging more regularly to chart the process and evolution. Right now, all I can say is many of the bigger players and broadcasters now have a hunger to get into mobile content. Boys aren't watching TV anymore. Well, neither am I, frankly, and I can only conclude that there's just one reason girls are still holding out with traditional Boob Tube rather than YouTube, and it's simply that technology is not a girl thing. As soon as the technology is fully integrated into a Boob Tube like interface (uh, point remote and click), then I expect more sisters to abandon conventional cable and satellite too.

Technological change is a tsunami, bearing down on us with landscape-changing consequences. I'm seeing it all around me, including right here in the cafe where I type this. Apparently my shitty neighborhood that no one wanted to live in five years ago is now a fashion mecca. It happened while no one was looking. I'm now surrounded by white people with glossy laptops and too perfect noses talking about vacation homes in San Miguel and it makes me sad, because it looks like I'll have to start showering before I leave the house. Or maybe I'll just move.

Love,

Helena

Acting Like A Pro

I want to talk about being a "pro" within the wild, wild west that is the digital revolution. Because while all the rules of media creation and delivery are being rewritten, my fear is that some of the valuable lessons learned in the trenches of traditional media creation are being left behind.

Certainly, the new world of digital creation pays less. At least so far. And it allows new, untried talents, as well as untried producers, to bust into the otherwise closed shop of the movie biz. But what inevitably accompanies this new, exciting, "anything-goes" philosophy is a tendency to throw out (or never learn to begin with) some of the processes that have helped deliver solid film and TV content for decades.

Hollywood has honed certain rules of procedure in order to maintain a powerfully effective (if sometimes dangerous) machine. For example, there are good reasons for many of the rules within the Hollywood script development process, and many of them should continue to apply within the decidedly un-Hollywood filmmaking world that is now emerging thanks to new technologies. In fact, as a DIY independent, you have a chance to not only do what Hollywood does right but also to avoid all the B.S. that Hollywood does wrong. Because Hollywood is also a machine with some worn out, oily cylinders.

So, in the interests of starting fresh, and speaking from my experience working within and without the "Hollywood system," I wanted to give some advice to independents setting out to make their digital masterpiece. Indeed, it's advice I think many Hollywood insiders too often disregard. But let's show 'em how we can do it a little better. We can have more fun and make good movies without 'em. And we'll start with some advice on giving notes to your writer. Or at least, advice on the notes not to give your writer.

Giving notes to a writer is a precarious business. You want your writer to deliver something exceptional. A great script is going to be the foundation of most great movies (I say most because there are freakish exceptions, but it's widely accepted that if it's not there on the page it's probably not going to be in your movie). In short, the screenplay is one of the fundamental building blocks to a good film. Treat it with the deference it deserves. Treat the process with the deference it deserves too. Assuming you've hired a good writer rather than a bad writer--there are more bad writers out there by far--then I want to make this the first of several posts about how to work with that good writer (who will still deliver "flawed" scripts by the way, and your job is to help make it the best it can be). My fundamental philosophy is that just because we're flying by the seat of our pants doesn't mean that my digital indie collaborators cannot function as professionally and with as much savvy as the pros in Hollywood.

I debated about putting together a long list of "good note-giving" versus "bad note-giving" techniques, but it would have taken me a month to write it, and this blog was already getting stale. So I thought I'd mete out these bon mots one at a time, as they came to me. I've certainly seen my share of good and bad notes, having written my fair share of good and bad scripts. So here goes:

#1 SCRIPT NOTE NOT TO GIVE YOUR SCREENWRITER: THE FLASH OF PRE-EXISTING GENIUS

This gets to be number one because it's my least favorite script note of all time. It demoralizes the writer and makes the note-giver look like an idiot. The Flash of Pre-Existing Genius is essentially a note wherein the note-giver (let's call him the "producer" for now) reads the writer's script (heck, let's call her the "writer") and the producer has a good idea for a script-change. Actually, it's a really great idea for a script-change, in this case a change to a scene, and he's sure it will make the whole thing work so much better. Sounds good so far.

The writer listens intently as the producer proceeds to describe precisely what he thinks the scene needs to really kick ass. And the writer agrees. It's a really good idea. It's fantastic. So how can that possibly be a bad note? Because in this case, the producer has actually given a note that describes exactly what's already in the freakin' script. You don't think that can happen? I tell you it happens more often than I can count. I have concluded that a couple of things could be going on here. Maybe the writer has written something with some subtlety. Too much subtlety obviously, because the producer has just read the damned thing, and he's clearly ingested the gist of it because he's reiterating it now apparently convinced it's just been birthed from his own imagination, completely failing to recognize that he was led to this idea because it's already there on the page (only perhaps subtly so). The other possibility is that the producer is a reader with such a short attention span that he actually forgot that he just finished reading the idea and then it occurs to him moments (days?) later and he assumes it's his own. Kind of like that poor guy in Memento who can't keep a thought in his head for more than a few minutes before it's gone. I'm convinced some producers have this problem, because they will give this sort of note repeatedly.

So, it might seem very simply corrected, right? It shouldn't be such a big deal, because the writer can just point out to the producer that it's already there on the page. That indeed the guy with the spot of blood on his shirt collar might be like, oh, I dunno, a bad guy (gee, what was the first clue). But the problem I have is that the note undermines the writer's trust in the producer. The producer is either dumb or inattentive or dismissive or, worst yet and still possible, sociopathic. Basically the producer is "stealing" the writer's ideas as his own. Okay, admittedly that's paranoid, but the point is that the process is undermined at least a little bit by this annoying note. The crux of it is that the producer isn't even asking himself whether the writer has actually led him there. The producer isn't giving the writer any credit for leading him to this "great idea," which even if it's not on the page or is only on the page too subtly, the producer should recognize that the genesis of his "flash of brilliance" was still the script itself.

The point of good note giving is to establish a trust between writer and producer. To preserve the writer's energy to deliver a better draft next round, not to exhaust her with notes that re-iterate ideas already present in the script. (Can you tell I hate this kind of note?) Ultimately, it just always shocks me that this kind of note is given so often. It must be human nature--any good idea must be ours and ours alone, right? I've seen people do it in writing rooms often enough: adopting an idea they heard moments ago as though they'd only just suddenly thought it up themselves. Something about our brains filter out the ideas of others, and we file them away, retrieving them later as our own. I've written whole scripts only to realize that some movie I saw as a kid was the long-forgotten precursor of it.

So what can you as a note-giver do to avoid it? Because surely it's unintentional. I simply suggest that you try to remain aware that your flash of brilliance might already be in there. Think about what led you to this idea and give some credit for the source of it. Acknowledge that the scene might already be heading in that direction. Look before you leap. You'll save face and your writer will proceed with more trust and vigor.

Stay tuned for the next NOTE NOT TO GIVE YOUR SCREENWRITER. Coming soon...

Old Fogie Superstars and Other True Tall Tales

A heated debate rages over at Craig Mazin'sThe Artful Writer. Definitely worth reading Craig's thought-provoking article about why age might just matter a little bit in the screenwriting business (he's really just wondering whether the alleged Hollywood bias towards writers under 40 could even be somewhat justified). He makes some good, if contentious, points. Hey, the hallmark of a good blog post--and indeed of a good writer--is the ability to elicit a reaction, and Craig Mazin has certainly managed that. I'll let you decide whether he's right or not. But there's one thing most of the indignant comments on Artful Writer are forgetting: the biases and preconceptions of Hollywood are mitigated at least somewhat by the fact we now have unprecedented power to prove them wrong.

So you're a black girl. Or an old man. Fact is, if you really are the best writer and you're 60 but Hollywood wants the hack who's 25, then prove it. Write the script and shoot it. Or write the script and get it into the hands of an ambitious director who will shoot it, because there are more directors looking for stellar material than ever in history. Prejudice, where it truly exists, is wrong. Immoral. Abhorrent. And ever-present. We must be vigilant in our watch for it, but that shouldn't stop you from also proving them wrong by accomplishing the very thing everyone thought you couldn't do. No one should be excluded from money and power based on race, sex, sexuality or age...but obviously we are. I say fuck 'em and make your movie anyway!

My blog tends to re-hash the same philosophy, but I'll keep doing so until we're all on the same page: the digital revolution means that no matter who you are or where you're from, you don't need Hollywood to make your movie. And I for one really do believe that some little old lady somewhere is going to pick up a camera and deliver something astounding. It's just a matter of time. It will be rarer, however, for some of the reasons Craig Mazin points out: stamina, fearlessness and ambition often wane with age. But even if it's an often-accurate generality, it isn't a universal truth.

And hey, we all know that hype can be a powerful tool in the movie-making equation--the "mainstream media" loves to hype the latest 19-year old wunderkind. But haven't we heard that story enough times already? Don't you think the first super cool movie shot by some old lady residing in a seniors' home will make for even MORE sensational press? I do. Black lesbian senior citizen dwarves of the world take heed--I want to watch your awesome movie! Shoot it and make me proud!

Lock Her Up!

Okay, so I read online that the new Spider-Man 3 trailer is up. I click the link, which takes me to--no surprise here--YouTube. Lots of trailers end up on YouTube, because with 100 million videos served up daily, it's great for advertising. But lo and behold, the Spider-Man 3 trailer isn't there. Instead I get a banner that reads: "This video is no longer available due to a copyright claim by Sony."

We're talking about a movie trailer here. And the fact that Sony is pulling it from YouTube viewers is interesting and distressing both. Because it's ADVERTISING right? That's what a trailer is. It's to raise hype and awareness. The more folks who see your "advertisement" the better. That's why a 30-second spot on the Super Bowl broadcast costs a fortune. So here I'm actually LOOKING for the stupid Spider-Man trailer and Sony has pulled it because it violates their copyright. Something really weird is going on here.

I suppose trailers have become a form of "entertainment" in and of themselves. But that doesn't change the fact that they're ads, even if they're enjoyable. So Sony clearly wants to control where their ad gets seen. And that just flies in the face of everything that advertising is traditionally about. It's downright bizarre. But above all else it demonstrates just how the studios are turning into Nervous Nellies when confronted with the prospect of Internet distribution. Like they're shouting, "Can you all just slow down a minute until we figure out how to extract every last dollar from your wallet?" They know Internet distribution is worth money, even if no one knows precisely how to get the real gold out of them thar hills. But they know it's there, and I think they're panicking, and pulling their fucking ads for copyright violations as a result.

Okay, and then I get this scary email from my Internet provider. Apparently I violated copyright by downloading an episode of Heroes...which is freely available for download from NBC. But I downloaded it from BitTorrent. I think my key mistake was to leave it freely available for upload. Normally, if I pilfer something, I try not to contribute to the avalanche of piracy by continuing to upload it for other people. I'm a selfish bitch. I do want my video now, and on demand. But I'm not going to risk anything in order for you to get it too. Not yet. Not until it's legal. (Oh, and yeah, like you don't have a single downloaded MP3 file on your computer--or how about those hot pictures squirreled away in weirdly named folders on your laptop? Did you pay the photographer and model for the rights to copy and save that picture? It's all a violation of somebody's copyright somewhere.) Anyhow, the thing is I thought that sharing this Heroes episode was not a big deal. In fact I thought it was legal, because NBC itself was offering it for free download. And the only reason I downloaded it myself was so that I could catch up on this highly serialized show (i.e., you sorta need to know what's already happend to get into it) so I could start watching it on--you guessed it--NBfuckingC! And yet I'm getting nasty warnings from Universal. It's just getting all so weird. Like on the one hand it's becoming part of the popular culture to download stuff--that's just undeniable, regardless of the moral arguments--while on the other hand folks like Universal are trying to limit where and when I can download the very thing I need to get interested in their show. (It's a great show by the way. Highly addictive. And a great way that drug dealers grow their business is to offer good deals on crack so you get fucking hooked. You keep coming back for more.)

I know NBC/Universal fear losing revenue from downloading. For good reason. But I think they're missing the opportunity of a lifetime. Embed some advertising in the show itself, either by way of "bugs" (those litle floaty things in the corner of your screen that say things like NBC, or CNN, but which can just as easily say "Purina" or "Toyota") or embed product placement right in the show itself, then watch it go viral. Again, like the trailier for Spider-Man 3, you WANT viewers. Because the more viewers you have, no matter how they're getting it, the more you can sell your show to advertisers.

It's certainly the craziest of good times. See y'all in jail.

Peace.

Some Guy At The New York Times Knows Some Stuff!

And so, in the immortal words of Ali G: "Check it!"

The One Million Channel Universe

Case in point--and it's cool: ToonBreak is a new internet "channel" featuring hand-picked animated shorts, and the whole thing is underpinned by a concerted mandate to ensure the animators make money from their work. How refreshing!

Founded by Shawn McInerney, an animator himself with over a decade in the business, ToonBreak is the kind of endeavor I want to see go viral. Because fact is, if he's getting rich, it means a lot of artists from the fringes are making real money from their work too. I'll keep saying it: talent will out. And now a bit in McInerney's own words:

ToonBreak provides a constantly updated selection of cool animated videos. We sift through the web's massive jumble of content to bring you the most entertaining cartoons. Our system of channels, tags, and search make it easy to find the cartoons you like.

We also help animators earn revenue from their cartoons. Animators earn revenue from video ads, text and banner ads, donations, and merchandising. If you've created some cool original cartoons and would like to take part in our revenue sharing program, please submit your work.

Piracy is Good: How BitTorrent Killed TV and Why Filmmakers Should Love it

You'll often witness creative types like us wringing our hands over the threat that piracy poses to our livelihoods. The landscape is changing so quickly, none of us are entirely sure how it will all settle out, and one thing we obviously wonder is how the Industry will be able to pay writers and filmmakers if content continues to be stolen online. Surely if every TV show and movie is pirated, the economic model falls apart and we can't pay for little Susie's braces (and she has really ugly teeth).

I'm an advocate of the digital revolution and online distribution, and so I too wondered how this could all jive with a business model that would make me and my talented sisters and brothers rich(er). Thankfully, the clouds have parted and it's actually coming clear. It's not only possible, it's actually probable. In fact, we creators should want piracy, because in short order piracy will be putting more money directly into our pockets. You see, it's the broadcasters who don't want piracy--because piracy is going to kill them, at least when it comes to selling ads on dramas and comedies. So how is piracy going to make us richer? Well it's going to put distribution in our hands, and it's going to put advertising money directly into our pockets (rather than into broadcasters' pockets, who then trickle down pennies on the dollar to the people who make their programs). Click here to listen to a most interesting lecture on how all this is likely to work
(as told in 7 parts on YouTube by digital provocateur Mark Pesce). Or you can download the BitTorrent here, courtesy of Mark Pesce himself (so rest assured you ain't stealin' nothin' he doesn't want you to have).

Hollywood's Crack

From Variety.com: ITunes has cracked open to independent video producers for the first time.Apple's digital content store on Tuesday started selling 'That,' a snowboarding action pic made for DVD by Forum Snowboards. Move reps the first time iTunes has sold video content that didn't come from an established network, studio or distributor.Though the Mac maker wouldn't comment on future plans, the deal with Forum indicates iTunes will selectively sell video outside of its high-profile deals with companies like Disney, NBC and Lionsgate. (Anyone can distribute video podcasts for free on iTunes.)Given iTunes' dominance in the nascent digital download market, that's sure to generate hordes of interest among independent film producers in all genres who don't have a distributor.

Get Tech!

Okay all you talented finger-painters, it's time to do your math homework. I know you hate it, because you're an artist. You dream poetry and imagine the apocalypse and it's your vast, unlimited creativity that will turn you into world famous filmmakers. Who cares about math? I'm here to tell you that it's you who should care.

Now, I don't mean math homework exactly; in fact, by math I mean all the "tech" stuff that we creative writers and dreamers try to avoid in filmmaking: the geeky nuts and bolts of computers and digital camera equipment, the world of firewire cables and HDMI connectors, and those incomprehensible details about color space and bit depth and resolution and RAID storage. It's complex and overwhelming and you think that surely it is the domain of nerds with neither a story to tell nor good taste. But I'm here to tell you that you're avoiding your homework at your own peril. This is a revolution, and things are changing fast. It's both a more democratic place (you too can make a movie) and a more competitive one (everyone can make a movie). The tools are in your hands--or down the street at your computer shop. It's time to dig in and get your slender, sensitive fingers dirty.

In order to fully exploit the power of the digital revolution you have to know how to do it all. You have to empower yourself with all that tech knowledge, now widely available for free on the Internet, so that nobody can say "no, we're not financing your movie"--because you'll simply make the movie yourself. You won't be hiring people to do your tech. Not only will you be unable to afford it, you'll discover that the art is the tech, too. The tech is a painter's brush and writer's pen. The tech is magic in the hands of a truly inspired creative person. It's precisely your aversion to the tech that makes you different from the geek. The geek probably can't write or paint or act. He can't learn it either--I believe that creativity is simply a natural talent. But you already have creative talent, right? Good. Because you definitely can learn to geek out. It's science and math. There are right answers! Imagine--it can actually be something of a relief for an artist to discover that sometimes there are right answers, because the fog of artistic creation and the concomitant doubts can be grueling.

You're still resisting? You're thinking that world famous filmmakers make it on their creativity alone. Certainly it's happened before. I'd say that's how it happened for people like Sam Mendes (American Beauty, Road to Perdition)--he was a talented theatre director. He doesn't do math (at least I expect he doesn't). He imagines the mise en scene and all sorts of minions make it real. We've all seen the directors in those DVD extras running around approving storyboards and nodding their heads at lighting set-ups and pointing at a computer screen so an editor can "make it so." But that was then. This is now. And you probably haven't directed Judi Dench in a stage play, so it's unlikely anyone will let you direct your movie because of your "wonderful way with actors." You won't point at the computer screen so the editor will make it so. You will be the editor. And don't expect someone to walk in your door and "show you how." This is where you have to prove your commitment to this crazy craft that is making movies.

I get those calls. From other artists who are watching in stunned amazement as I--this cute, hot, stacked babe and a writer no less--can now sit at an edit suite and deliver a cut with the best of them. I can add effects and mix sound. I can troubleshoot hardware and set up my own lights. And now these artists I know are calling me and asking me how they too can make their own movie. Because they have this great script, see--because they're writers--and no one is offering to make it, and well...how can I show them how to do what I do. Frankly, it's irksome, and I get a little sad, because I want my fellow writers and artists to join the digital revolutionary army. But they're expecting to skip basic training. They want to be colonels before they've even done a few jumping jacks. All I can say is, you have the Internet and a library card. GO DO IT. I'll answer questions. Lots of people will. Heck, there are web forums filled with people far more knowledgeable than I am who inexplicably lurk online waiting to answer your baffling technical questions. No one will make it happen but you.

The tech is intimidating. Trust me, that is something that you will use to your advantage, because the old-guard of film and TV doesn't understand it either. They HIRE geeks to understand it. Become both the geek and the artist and you have power. The kind of power that even the old-guard can recognize. But you're going to use this power for yourself and your brothers and sisters, not for the old-guard. You're going to use this power for good. You're going to make your movie your way. And we're going to watch it and wonder how you did it.

Writers Are Doin' It for Themselves

I ain't vouchin' for this product. In fact, I have a certain disdain for every single book, DVD and gimmick being sold to writers and filmmakers to "help them make it in the business." But what I do like is that it's reflective of how writers are starting to think! This from the exploiters over at Creative Screenwriting Magazine:

DIY: Do It Yourself

5 DVDs ON TRANSITIONING FROM WRITER TO AUTEUR
$89.95 (click here to order)

The DIYpak is a 5-DVD course on greenlighting your own script. You have four months to get your screenplay ready for a Summer shoot – use the DIYPak to make the most of this time.

Learn from producer's rep Jeff Dowd about Concept Creation, Marketing, and Distribution. Other DVDs cover Film Financing, Crafting a Killer Ending, Creating Powerful Movie Scenes, and the Sequence Structure for Successful Movies (employed by Pixar).

MY LAST WORD (because I always have the last word): frankly I would save your money and buy a book on Final Cut Pro. You will only write your script by writing your script--no DVD box-set will help you there, really. But you can learn how to edit your film once you've shot it. Go team.

The Lazy Girl's DIY Blog Post on DIY Film Distribution

The "digital revolution" is rapidly evolving to encompass DIY film distribution. In fact, self-distribution will undoubtedly be even more important to the growth of artist-controlled filmmaking than the new technologies that allow for the creation of such films. Hey, YouTube is basically a form of self-distribution, and we're seeing how that's shaking up the traditional TV delivery world. Anyhow, be sure to check outthis great post from over at Drifting: A Director's Log, which says so much so nicely, why should I say it again? Here's a snippet:


The holy grail of independent filmmaking was, and generally still is, an acquisition deal, a theatrical release, and a subsequent industry-financed career. In some cases, that initial independence was a means to an inverse end; more commonly, though, that same end was (and is) a means unto itself, a manner of making a living off one's chosen art form in the most practical way possible. This category would include most of the current indie wunderkinds (the two Andersons, Aronofsky, etc). The practicality of their circumstance, of course, is mitigated by the relative infrequency of such success stories; but nonetheless, those stories are the ideal for many aspiring (and, indeed, practicing) independent filmmakers.

Let's consider, however, the sum of the following:

1. The very rarity of those cases.
2. The fact that, when they do occur, the balance of capitalism and artistic freedom renders the studio system a very wealthy middleman.
3. The possibility that the studio system is indeed crumbling [1] under the weight of its own hegemonic inflexibility and hubristic marginalization of product - its “death spiral,” as Edward Jay Epstein put it. [2]

That last factor may be a bit hyperbolic; Hollywood, being the capital driven machine it is, will more than likely maintain its hold on the entertainment industry; even as it evolves, its goals will remain the same. [3] Still, between digital pipelines, day-and-date DVD and theatrical releasing, etc, it is hard to deny that a paradigm shift is at hand; and it might be a good time for independent filmmakers to consider whether or not that lofty ideal of yore need endure. In other words, should filmmakers be afraid of self-distribution?

A good read. A foretelling of the future.

Film Festivals Are Just So Analog

With all that annoying Sundance mania finally over with for the year, it seems like a good time to provide some healthy perspective on the relevance (or irrelevance, more appropriately) of film festivals. Because make no mistake, there's a rapidly growing consensus among many filmmakers that festivals have outlived their usefulness.

Originally, events like Sundance and the Toronto International Film Festival provided the only route for independent movies to find an audience. Festivals offered the sole venue where a movie made outside the Hollywood system could generate some press and find a distributor, which was in turn the only means to finding a market and making back some money. There was just no other way that a little movie from Arkansas made by an unknown actor who looked like a cancer-stricken muppet would see the light of day. Ah, but how things have changed in the decade since "Sling Blade" premiered at Sundance.

Based on the incredible proliferation of these events, one might assume that film festivals are more relevant than ever--there are literally thousands of film festivals across the world, some specializing in specific genres and others simply claiming to be the next Cannes or Toronto or Berlin or Rotterdam or Sundance or Slamdance or...you get the idea. The advent of the digital "movie camera" has generated a glut of new films looking for audiences, and greedy opportunists abhor a vacuum: the new film festivals bred like rabbits to satisfy the need, collectively raking in millions of dollars in entry fees from struggling artists in the process. Yes, many of these film festivals are legitimate--they take your hard-earned money with the best of intentions (while offering you nothing in return if they decide your self-financed film isn't "good enough" after watching it for all of 30-seconds). But lots are licences for a few folks to make money by capitalizing on artists' hard work and dreams. And keep in mind that most of the movies that screen at the top festivals still don't even find distribution, as they viciously compete for the all-important buzz.

Still, the problem with even the most reputable festivals is compounded by the fact that so many films accepted for screening find their way there through clubby connections--usually Hollywood clubby connections--resulting in programmes that don't really offer the audiences that "something different," the exotic "I-can't-believe-I-just-got-to-see-that" type of film, the kind of film Hollywood would never make. The line between the "indie" movie and the studio film has become very blurry indeed; so much so that the term "indie" itself is widely regarded as almost meaningless. Which is why many of us prefer the moniker of "DIY filmmaker" rather than "indie filmmaker." "Do It Yourself" filmmaking means just that; whereas "indie filmmaking" means Gwynneth Paltrow cut her salary because she doesn't need another mansion in Malibu.

I guess we can't really blame these festivals for being victims of their own success. The Weinsteins and other Hollywood heavyweights want that platform of a prestigious Sundance premiere, and they're gonna get it. These movies are generally good too. But hey, why see it at a festival when it's going to get released in two hundred theatres across the country six weeks from now. The most original stuff--the stuff that needs to be discovered--is not finding its way to these festivals. And don't just take my word for it. This is what Richard Corliss had to say in a recent Time Magazine article:

You don't find as much originality in Sundance films these days, and for a simple reason. In the beginning, the festival was a home for the homeless, for a rambunctious outlaw take on filmmaking. There was no need to be cautious, since indie films were rarely hits. But as Sundance became the showcase for a form of movie gaining marketplace pull, young directors naturally made films to fit the new mold.... Trying to get your intellectual fill with Sundance films is like choosing homemade popcorn over the concession-stand variety: higher quality, little nourishment.

You can also get a sense of what the grass-roots of DIY filmmakers feel about festivals like Sundance from someone like Steve Balderson ("Firecracker") on his MySpace page where he's written an article called "The Sundance Disease":

The first cases were diagnosed in Los Angeles, leading the CDC to theorize that neither Robert (Redford) nor Park City, Utah, was the source of The Disease. I interviewed a Studio Executive suffering from The Disease. Said individual stated, "You are nothing unless your film is shown at Sundance. If you aren't at Sundance, you must not be a real filmmaker." All other research indicates that most films "accepted" into Sundance have, in one way or another, been financed, produced, or planned by a company in The Industry.

What happens to the real independent film? What happens if one doesn't surrender? The same thing that happens to people in our culture that don't fit the mold! They are exiled! They are called freaks! Which reminds me of the scene in FREAKS: "One of US! One of US!"

Another filmmaker on MySpace says, These days, I would avoid film festivals like the plague. They have evolved into cash cows for the organizers, and filmmakers are getting ripped off with ridiculous entry fees.

Hey, getting a rejection hurts, and making films is largely about rejection. But it's not just fox and the grapes disparagement here. Festivals simply cannot accommodate all the films that should be seen, and as a result often end up accommodating the films they know will get stars on their red carpet which helps the fest's profile in a hotly competitive festival marketplace. Toronto wants to stay number one. And Sundance wants to be the hottest "indie" festival too. I've seen some incredible films that I know were rejected by Sundance. I also know these rejections devastated the filmmakers, as if Sundance alone can determine the filmmaker's worth. I reviewed one such film in this blog: the incredibly innovative Cavite. The directors admit in their own commentary track that the rejection from Sundance was crushing. But their movie should be seen. It's truly a piece of DIY art, and a significant account of a specific time and place. These filmmakers are important to the evolution of cinema, whether Sundance has room for them or not.

In the end, the most comelling reason why I say film festivals are "just so analog"--the reason why I believe they've served their purpose and why they'll probably become less relevant to innovative, groundbreaking cinema while continuing to offer a good party where where you can drink with Julianne Moore--is because the digital revolution (specifically online distribution and promotion) allows the DIY filmmaker to achieve the same intended results as a festival. Rather than paying money to get a few minutes of your movie screened by a selection committee, filmmakers are discovering that if their movie really is any good, they can self-distribute the film online and on DVD. A case in point: we're starting to hear a lot about a little self-financed movie called "Four Eyed Monsters", which is really getting noticed via online marketing and downloads, despite its self-admitted failure at festivals. This is what the filmmakers had to say in a recent issue of Wired Magazine: "Festivals are a dead end. We've found a different way." You can hear more from the "Four Eyed Monster" folks in a podcast from The Workbook Project.

Or read up on The Angry Filmmaker who espouses DIY distribution and eschews festivals in general.

Or check out a website like www.withoutabox.com to (1) get a sense of just how many thousands of festivals are out there, and (2) read the forums which increasingly reveal a dissatisfaction regarding what festivals can do for us as artists and filmmakers.

Yes, I'll admit, I'd like to hang out with Sarah Polley while my next movie screens at Sundance too. Who wouldn't? But the key to remember is that if my next movie doesn't make it there, I might be able to generate just as much success regardless. My career no longer depends on it. And my bet (I'm always making bets on this blog), in 5 years, festivals will not be the place where we discover the next "Sling Blade."

Cavite

Pronounced ca-vi-té, it's the name of a small town in the Phillipines. It's also the title of one incredibly innovative, psychologically sophisticated and brilliantly resourceful digital feature shot almost entirely in that country. I've mentioned in this blog that (a) digital technology will generate a new wave of filmmakers, (b) you can make movies anywhere, and (c) you can make movies, period. Cavite easily proves these points.

Shot on a shoe string, using some incredibly simple guerilla "work-arounds" and ambient light (heck, it even uses "ambient actors"!), with the two filmmakers doubling as cast and crew, this little film exhibits enough production values to elevate "video footage" into a full-fledged cinematic experience. It's substance first and style second (though it does certainly have a consistent and effective style). If you want to make digital features, you owe it to yourself to get a hold of the DVD, just to see what smart filmmakers can pull off when they set their minds to it. Yes, I'll admit the movie lags a bit in the middle, but it starts well, and it achieves almost pitch-perfect emotional realism. Oh, and the final act is truly worth the wait in terms of emotional storytelling.

It's a movie Hollywood would never make. And as small as it is, my bet would be on this film surviving 100 years from now (as a testament to a very specific time and place) over any of the big studio movies I've seen lately.

We Are Not Alone

Or at least I'm not anyhow. I devoted this blog to ruminations about a digital revolution. I'm convinced that artists will come out holding the reins of content in the long run. And just when I start to wonder if I'm wrong--that big studio control is here to stay for my lifetime--I read words like this:

At the moment, the smart money may be going small budget. Just recently, wealthy individuals, pooling their money in hedge funds, have begun setting up deals not with studios but with successful producers like Joel Silver and producer-directors like Ivan Reitman. The production money will go to genre films—thrillers and comedies and horror pictures—in the low-budget (about twenty-million-dollar) range. John C. Malone, the chairman of Liberty Media Corporation, is opening his own studio to make movies on a similar scale. Some of these pictures will undoubtedly be routine, but the relatively low stakes could also allow producers to hire writers and directors who are willing to do more daring work, the way B-movie directors, toiling quietly on back lots, did sixty years ago.

Films made fast and cheap in this way would still need studio distribution and marketing, but once the theatres go digital that may no longer be true. Distribution is the key to freedom. In the future, what is to stop a group of producers, directors, and writers from forming a coöperative, raising money for a slate of films, and hiring non-studio distribution and promotion people to get the movies to digitized theatres—liberating themselves at last?

Check the full article over at The New Yorker.

Successful Filmmaking Is (Not) Always About Selling

Ever wonder how the next guy gets that writing or directing gig when you're pretty sure you have more talent? We all do. Of course, many of us are deluded about our own talents (studies repeatedly demonstrate that most humans tend to rank themselves as being smarter and better-looking than average, when this clearly cannot be the case). But hey, being deluded can also be a tremendous boon to a filmmaker's career, and that's because humans also have a tendency to "believe the hype" even when it's your own hype. So if indeed you are more talented than the gal who gets the gig over you, that's probably because she's a better salesperson. And if you really do have more talent, but you can't convince anyone besides Dad and Auntie Betty of this fact, then I hate to break it to you but you're a terrible salesperson. And in film, as in life, sales is everything. Your career is doomed. Or is it...

Indeed, many of the most successful individuals in the film industry are consummate salesmen. The ironic twist of fate lies in the fact that many of the most original artists are terrible salesmen. They live in isolation, noodling away at their scripts and books and paintings, lacking the necessary guts and gumption to get out there and sell so as to generate some "buzz" for their work. And make no mistake, a person is rarely hired for a filmmaking gig based on a single executive's insightful assessment of that person's innate talents. Fact is most executives aren't going to go out on a limb to hire you based solely on their own solitary judgment of your craft and creativity. The default position for most executives is to rely on "buzz," because humans also tend to buy the notion that when a lot of other people believe something, it must somehow be more likely to be true: the executive simply relies on the opinion of a bunch of other people, who each is in turn also relying on the opinion of a bunch of other people, and that is the magic of "buzz." (A lot of folks tell me that they lean towards a belief in the Bible simply because so many others believe in it too and how could so many people possibly be wrong? I ask them to keep in mind that the entire human poplulation once believed the Earth was flat, but alas, such is a debate for a blog other than this one).

And so what is the artist born without the salesman's gene to do? I'm one of those artists--I hate selling, and I especially hate selling myself. I've scratched my head over it, witnessing my own career take unpredictable twists and turns that seem entirely unrelated to my abilities. But a recent turn of events reminded me of the artist's trump card: talent does tend to rise to the top. But here comes the hard part. As a non-salesperson, you're going to have to put in more hours and take more initiative, because you have to be a "do-er" not a "talker." That means getting out there and making that short film or even that feature without the blessing of any executive. And the simple beauty of the digital revolution is that now you can! Remember that no matter how talented you may be, you'll rise absolutely nowhere if you only think about that movie you want to make and don't do anything about it. Once in a while, the other guy, the salesman, will walk out of a meeting with a deal for his first feature having no prior experience except a mediocre student film. He's a good-- No, he's a great talker. And you're not. Get over it. Because there's one sure-fire way to create buzz without selling, and that's to make a good film. Believe me, there are quirky, shy artists out there who make a lot of money in Hollywood based on the fact that they deliver. The "buzz" has been generated not out of savvy salesmanship, but out of the art the filmmaker has created and that art speaks for itself.

So you non-salespeople, do what I did. Make your film. And in case you're as bad at sales as I am, so bad that you can't even talk anyone other than your boyfriend into working on your film along with you, don't despair--you can do more on your own than you realize. Try checking out this great new guide to low-budget filmmaking (I know there are so many books like this, but this one really is worth it): DV Rebel's Guide. To get a sampling of what's inside, wander on over to The Long Tail.

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.