Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts

Saturday, October 10, 2015

American Psycho - Analysis

American Psycho (2000), screenplay by Mary Harron & Guinevere Turner, novel by Bret Easton Ellis
OWEN: Call me. (Hands him a business card)
PRICE: How about Friday?
OWEN: No can do. Got a res at eight-thirty at Dorsia. Great sea urchin ceviche.
There is a stunned silence as he walks away and sits in a corner of the room, ostentatiously studying papers.
CLOSE-UP on Bateman’s face, cold with hatred.
PRICE: (Whispering) Jesus. Dorsia? On a Friday night? How’d he swing that?
McDERMOTT: (Whispering) I think he’s lying.
Bateman takes out his wallet and pulls out a card.
PRICE: (Suddenly enthused) What’s that, a gram?
BATEMAN: New card. What do you think?
McDermott lifts it up and examines the lettering carefully.
McDERMOTT: Whoa. Very nice. Take a look.
He hands it to Van Patten.
BATEMAN: Picked them up from the printers yesterday
VAN PATTEN: Good coloring.
BATEMAN: That’s bone. And the lettering is something called Silian Rail.
McDERMOTT: (Envious) Silian Rail?
VAN PATTEN: It is very cool, Bateman. But that’s nothing.
He pulls a card out of his wallet and slaps it on the table.
VAN PATTEN: Look at this.
They all lean forward to inspect it.
PRICE: That’s really nice.
Bateman clenches his fists beneath the table, trying to control his anxiety.
VAN PATTEN: Eggshell with Romalian type. (Turning to Bateman) What do you think?
BATEMAN: (Barely able to breath, his voice a croak) Nice.
PRICE: (Holding the card up to the light) Jesus. This is really super. How’d a nitwit like you get so tasteful?
Bateman stares at his own card and then enviously at McDermott’s.
BATEMAN: (V.O.) I can’t believe that Price prefers McDermott’s card to mine.
PRICE: But wait. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.
He holds up his own card.
PRICE: Raised lettering, pale nimbus white…
BATEMAN: (Choking with anxiety) Impressive. Very nice. Let’s see Paul Owen’s card.
Price pulls a card from an inside coat pocket and holds it up for their inspection: “PAUL OWEN, PIERCE & PIERCE, MERGERS AND ACQUISITIONS.” Bateman swallows, speechless. The sound in the room dies down and all we hear is a faint heartbeat as Bateman stares at the magnificent card.
BATEMAN: (V.O.) Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh my God, it even has a watermark…
His hand shaking, Bateman lifts up the card and stares at it until it fills the screen.
He lets it fall. The SOUND RETURNS TO NORMAL.
CARRUTHERS: Is something wrong? Patrick…you’re sweating.
Bateman (Christian Bale) has a hateful rivalry with Paul Owen (Jared Leto), who outplays him at every turn, even though it’s only ever about appearances (He’s not too fond of anyone else who outplays him as well). The rivalry is prevalent among all these guys. But none can touch Owen with his reservation at Dorsia or his unrivaled business card, especially not Bateman who had to lie about a Dorsia reservation, and whose card is second rate to at least a few others.
This is a classic pivotal scene and inciting incident, which reveals Bateman’s deep inner conflict, torment, personal anxiety, and hatred toward Owen, and serves as the premise of the story (Bateman’s psychosis). This incident sets Bateman off on a killing spree, starting later with taking an axe to Owen to Huey Lewis’ ‘Hip to be Square'”.
 

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Happy Endings are Depressing

People sometimes complain about movies with sad or depressed endings. They want upbeat, feel good, inspiring. They want the fairy tales. But do happy endings actually make you happy? Do down endings make you sad? I don't think so.

When you've seen a a movie with a happy ending and then have to face reality, you inevitably come to the realization that you don't have a happy ending. You don't have any kind of ending. Even when you die, you won't experience the ending of your life, because it will be over before you can experience it.

When you've seen a movie with a sad ending, you may think about how the characters went wrong. You may think about how lucky you are not to have experienced something so depressing. Even if you had experienced it, you can feel consolation with characters that share your experience.  The outcome of a sad ending is to make you feel better.

When I got out of college times were tough, as they probably are for most kids just out of college. I could barely find enough work to survive. It was depressing as hell. So what did I do to feel better? No. I didn't go watch movies with happy endings. I couldn't afford movies with any kind of ending. I simply went out for walks in the city. And what did I see? Homeless people of course. People living depressing lives, too poor to have a car, taking buses. Waiting at bus stops like zombies. I would walk down the street and see all the lonely people, just like the Beatles song. Then I'd feel better. I'd feel sorry for them. But I'd feel better about myself, because even though I didn't have much, I had enough to feel like I had more than a lot of other people had.

You might have expected me to say that I least I had friends. But I didn't really. They'd all left college. They weren't around. My parents were staunch conservatives. They didn't want me around the house. So I can't say I had family either. I had nothing but myself. But I was comfortable with that. I had my films that I was working on. I had ideas. There was always the future. If there's a future there's hope. You have the opportunity to continue to live and make something happen.

Happy endings will depress you. But sad endings give you hope in what you have. Now try explaining that to the genius Hollywood MBA studio heads.

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Leaving Las Vegas: Analysis

Leaving Las Vegas (1995)
John O’Brien (novel)
Mike Figgis (screenplay and director)
with Nicolas Cage and Elizabeth Shue

Scene

INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT
Ben and Sera are eating. He plays with his food, eating very little of it. Finally he pushes it away and orders another drink.

SERA: I’m from the East. I went to college, did an arts course. I now live in Vegas. I think of it as home. I came here deliberately to carve out a life. I was in LA before, but I’ll come back to that later. (pause) The tough times are behind me now. I can deal with the bad things that happen. There will always be dark characters. But my life is good. It is as I would want it to be. So, why are you a drunk?

BEN: Is that really what you want to ask me?

SERA: Yes.

BEN: (worried) Well, then I guess this is our first date… or our last. Until now, I wasn’t sure it was either.

SERA: Very clever.

Sera thinks for a while and decides to give in to him on this.

SERA: First. It’s our first. I’m just concerned. So… why are you killing yourself?

BEN: Interesting choice of words. I don’t remember. I just know that I want to.

SERA: Want to kill yourself? Are you saying that you’re drinking as a way to kill yourself?

And she leans across the table to be close to him, listening intently. Ben becomes uncomfortable and tries to joke it off.

BEN: Or killing myself as a way to drink.

Sera continues to stare at him, wanting to know the real answer. He takes a slug from his drink. She sits back.

BEN: We’ll talk about it some other time maybe. OK?

Sera relaxes and continues with her food. We hear her thoughts for a moment.

SERA (v.o): It wasn’t so important to me. I mean, he never asked me why I was a hooker, and that was impressive. I really liked him. So I decided to just play my part. I mean… it’s good to help someone once in a while., it’s a bonus to being alive, and that was my plan… to stay alive. I suddenly came to a decision.


Analysis

I love this movie. Cage got an Oscar. Shue was nominated, along with Figgis for screenplay and direction. It’s a classic great with a wonderful bluesy jazz track. It’s one of those rare films where everything comes together.

This scene sticks in my mind, especially the line about how killing himself is a way to drink. That line is very representative of his character. He is always jovial and light about everything, with a few exceptions of rage. But this indicates how he rationalizes and accepts his depression. He’s OK with killing himself. And it seems he doesn’t even know he’s depressed. Or doesn’t admit it. That way he can carry on life as if it’s all very acceptable.

In fact numerous great writers seem to fall into depression and even suicide. And the novel is semi-autobiographical. In writing, if you put your soul into it, it can be reflective and can bring up certain thoughts such as the general futility of life (everything ends). In Hollywood this kind of demise seems even more a rule than an exception. Success is usually short lived. It’s wonderful to face these things through this character.

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Birdman or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance (analysis)


**** SPOILERS ****
Here is my take on “The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance”. It is explained and owned by Dickinson (the theatre reviewer character). It’s the title of her review that was so feared by Riggan before she ever wrote it. And it explains Riggan’s dichotomy.

Dickinson defines Riggan as a personification of Hollywood:

….I hate you. And everyone you represent. Entitled. Spoiled. Selfish. Children. Blissfully untrained, unversed and unprepared to even attempt real art. Handing each other awards for cartoons and pornography. Measuring your worth in weekends. Well, this is the theater, and you don’t get to come in here and pretend you can write, direct and act in your own propaganda piece without going through me first.
She’s telling him he is ignorant and she’s thinking he doesn’t even know it (he’s an untrained child). Ignorance becomes a “virtue of ignorance”, but it’s only virtuous when she sees he is actually honest in his performance and direction of the play.

Honesty is a virtue in acting. I think it is the thing that most divides Hollywood/film from theatre. The simplest thing can be honesty. It is possible to transcend both film and theatre as some great actors do. You might not expect that of an untrained, Hollywood comic book character player with no theatre background.

Riggin’s ‘virtue of ignorance’ is his ‘innocence’ (as a beginner on the stage), an unexpected innocence. I would add that the dichotomy between film and theatre is another strong recurring theme and mirrors Riggin’s own inner conflict of Divided Self and Disunity.

As Mike also eludes to it:

Do you have any idea who walked these boards before you? Geraldine Page, Marlon Brando, Helen Hayes, Jason Robards… And now you. Riggan Thomson.
And again later:

….Your stage? This stage belonged to a lot of great actor’s, pal. But you are not one of them.
Perhaps it is the explicit reflection of the implicit film/theatre disunity subtext that we also see personified in Riggan’s conversations with the Hollywood Birdman. If Riggin were to embrace and understand Dickinson’s meanings, he might come to terms with, and conquer his internal disunity. Perhaps her review was a letter to him.

As an aside, the film/theatre theme is carried out in the execution of the film itself. We watch Birdman, a movie shot in the style of theatre, where actors play out scenes in one uncut take as they would on the stage. This is the greatest advantage of the fluid Steadicam, no-cut, no-coverage, continuous take style. I think it should be the norm and not the exception when actors are involved.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Moneyball, Written by Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin

The Scott Hatteberg walk off scene.
This is a very typical sports underdog makes good scene, with a winning move at the climax of the movie. What’s interesting with Moneyball is that it’s main premise is that very thing, how overlooked underdogs actually have talent that can make all the difference. There is very little dialogue. Though we see the coach have to coax Hatte out to bat. Hatte isn’t expecting this at all. The build up is great. And in fact, it’s this sudden lack of dialog that makes us pay attention and gives the feeling of suspense and anticipation. Note that in the locker room Billy watches a MUTED TV, adding lack of sound to the lack of dialogue. There is something to be said for silence.

EXT. OAKLAND COLISEUM FIELD – NIGHT – BOTTOM OF THE 9TH 152

The scoreboard shows us that it’s still tied in the bottom of the ninth. Nobody’s out. DYE grabs a bat and walks to the plate. Then, inexplicably, Howe turns to-

ART
Hattie. Grab a bat.

SCOTT HATTEBERG actually points to himself and mouths, Me?

ART
Let’s go.

SCOTT pulls a bat from the rack and heads to the on-deck circle. He only manages a warmup pitch or two before –

INT. WEIGHT ROOM
Billy is watching on a muted television as he sees Dye fly out to right field. As Hatte approaches the plate, he kills the TV.

EXT. OAKLAND COLISEUM – SAME TIME
As ROY STEELE’s booming voice echoes:

VOICE OF GOD
Pinch hitting for Eric Byrnes–Scott
Hatteberg.

Scott’s wife, ELIZABETH, watches from the VIP seats. She clutches her face. SCOTT lets the first pitch go by.

UMPIRE
Ball!

Art Howe looks like he can’t stand it any longer. In the dugout, Koch looks like a psychopath ready to kill.
SCOTT steps out of the box to catch his breath. He steps back in and stares at the exact spot in space he thinks the pitch will leave the pitcher’s hand.

The pitch. SCOTT swings.

Crack! 55,000 erupt. The A’s leap to the front of the dugout steps and watch.

We see the ball ascending on a strong trajectory, but before we can know for sure where it’s headed, TIME SLOWS TO A CRAWL-

INT. WEIGHT ROOM – SAME TIME 155

BILLY’s sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, trying to breathe. He looks like he’s in pain. He can’t move.

He hears the crowd ERUPT outside. His Blackberry buzzes: “hatte homered. a’s 12, ryls 11″
Billy flips on the TV. With sound off, he watches silent images of his team swarming the mound in (archival footage) mixed in with Art Howe celebrating with them.

EXT. OAKLAND COLISEUM – SAME TIME

The place is going crazy. ELIZABETH is screaming as she watches her husband get mauled by his teammates at the plate.

Saturday, June 7, 2014

Review: A Serious Man

Originally posted on the Black List

Title: A Serious Man [download a PDF version of the script here].
Year: 2009
Writing Credits: Joel Coen & Ethan Coen
IMDB rating: 7

IMDB plot summary:
Bloomington, Minnesota, 1967: Jewish physics lecturer Larry Gopnik is a serious and a very put-upon man. His daughter is stealing from him to save up for a nose job, his pot-head son, who gets stoned at his own bar-mitzvah, only wants him round to fix the TV aerial and his useless brother Arthur is an unwelcome house guest. But both Arthur and Larry get turfed out into a motel when Larry’s wife Judy, who wants a divorce, moves her lover, Sy, into the house and even after Sy’s death in a car crash they are still there. With lawyers’ bills mounting for his divorce, Arthur’s criminal court appearances and a land feud with a neighbor Larry is tempted to take the bribe offered by a student to give him an illegal exam pass mark. And the rabbis he visits for advice only dole out platitudes. Still God moves in mysterious – and not always pleasant – ways, as Larry and his family will find out.
Tagline: …seriously!

Awards:
Nominated for Oscars for Best Original Screenplay and Best Picture;
Nominated for Golden Globe for Best Actor, Michael Stuhlbarg
Nominated BAFTA Best Screenplay
Won AFI Movie of the Year
Nominated Eddie Best Edited Feature
Nominated Art Directors Guild Excellence in Production Design Award
Won Independent Spirit Award Best Cinematography Roger Deakins
Won Robert Altman Award
Nominated Independent Spirit Award Best Director Ethan & Joel Coen
Nominated WGA Best Original Screenplay
Numerous others

Analysis: What stood out to me immediately was the detailed camera directions in the script, and very much a big part of telling the story. Of course the Coens are director-writer-editors. It makes sense that they might see the film at the script stage in terms of how they intend to direct and cut it. The film is 107 minutes. But the script is 133 pages, which testifies to the added camera direction, despite a page or two of cuts at most. I looked at two other Coen scripts and saw a similar treatment at the beginning of Fargo and Raising Arizona. But A Serious Man is a bit more so. I think there is a tendency among novice filmmakers to write this way until they are corrected to leave that detail to the director, even if it’s themselves. But this is not generally recommended. They also ignore conventions like INT. or EXT. in the scene heading. Instead they just put the location there. They do not place the character name line when the same character speaks with action lines between. It makes for easier reading.

I watched the film after reading the script. Though I had seen it before. But I didn’t notice much difference from the script, except stuff that was cut. It’s impressive that the script is pretty much exactly what the film is. The theory on making movies is that there are three versions, the script, the one you direct and produce, and the one you edit. Not so with the Coens. What they write is what the final product is.

It’s been said that film has a long way to go, that the best films are yet to be made. I like to compare film to music, which has been around since the classics, about 400 years. I like to think that film could be more like a classical composition with the various instruments, melody, bass, rhythm and so on, analogous to image, sound, dialog, effects and so on. Could film be done more harmoniously as music is? The Coens seem to approach this concept, especially considering their script as the composition, is strictly adhered to as a musical composition is. The idea that the writer(s) control everything from image, to effects, to music. to dialog, in the script, the direction and the editing; makes this kind of harmony more likely than relegating these things to separate people, or at separate stages.

The theme of A Serious Man is quirky and magical for me; about the futility of being concerned over things in your life you cannot control. The setting is a period 60s Jewish community. The characters are both religious and irreverent, and perhaps naturally hypocritical. They are all either shallow or self centered. This reflects on the protagonist as someone who isn’t really close to anyone, considering everyone is seen through his perspective. The film even seems to say that irreverence is a part of life and a part of Judaism, at least among lay people. In this way it pokes fun at being serious or at taking religion literally. And this is the dilemma of the protagonist who wants desperately to understand things in his life that affect him and that he can’t control, and who looks to his religion for answers.

The protagonist goes through nearly all of the film with no real arc or change. He is simply put upon by his family and people around him. He mostly accepts his fate and everything his wife tells him to do. He is pushed around. Yet at one point he decides to take a stand. But this has absolutely no effect, which makes him even more frustrated. He looks to Rabbis as mentors. Externally they appear more as tricksters who tell him there is no answer. Yet internally they are telling him not to be concerned over such things. By the end he does arc ever so subtly. He accepts that he cannot understand these things and must move on.

The film is very unusual and original in having a passive protagonist and no real dramatic overcoming of an obstacle. It’s all very subtle and even easy to completely miss. I think this is why the film is misunderstood, underrated and even considered a failure by people who are used to being lead by the hand through a more conventional traditionally structured story, with a strong arc or strong climax. On the other hand, if you can accept the originality, it’s a film that makes you really think.

In this clip the protagonist sees the junior Rabbi, who talks about the inner world or the expression of Hashem (translated as the Name or God) in the world, as opposed to seeing Hashem as externally living only in shul (the synagogue). I see this as a parallel to inner world and outer world of the protagonist, and his inability to reconcile them. By the way, this script sent me to the dictionary. Though the word meanings are apparent in context.

The Jefferson Airplane song ‘Somebody to Love’ is used as a device in the film and echoes the theme with the line ‘When the truth is found to be lies, and all the hope with in you dies…’ You could even say the entire film concept stems from that line. It’s a simple genius. Another rule the Coens break is to explicitly use known songs in the script.

Most Memorable Moments: The second Rabbi tells Larry the story of a man with inscriptions in his teeth, that turn out to be meaningless. Larry doesn’t understand the point of why he was told the story. And the Rabbi basically responds that here is no point. That’s the point. It is wonderfully comedic. This also echoes encounters with others characters.
Larry: So what did you tell him?
The rabbi seems surprised by the question.
Rabbi Nachtner: Sussman?
Larry: Yes!
Rabbi Nachtner: Is it. . . relevant?
Larry: Well—isn’t that why you’re telling me?
Rabbi Nachtner: Mm. Okay. Nachtner says, look. . .
The consultation scene again, with the rabbi once again narrating in voice-over. He silently advises the fretful Sussman in sync with his recounting of the same.
. . .
Rabbi Nachtner: The teeth, we don’t know. A sign from hashem, don’t know. Helping others, couldn’t hurt.
Back to the rabbi’s office in present. Larry struggles to make sense of the story.
Larry: But—was it for him, for Sussman? Or—
Rabbi Nachtner: We can’t know everything.
Larry: It sounds like you don’t know anything! Why even tell me the story?
Rabbi Nachtner: (amused) First I should tell you, then I shouldn’t.
Larry, exasperated, changes tack:
Larry: What happened to Sussman?
Sussman, back in his office, works on different patients as the rabbi resumes the narrative in voice-over.
Rabbi Nachtner: What would happen? Not much. He went back to work. For a while he checked every patient’s teeth for new messages; didn’t see any; in time, he found he’d stopped checking. He returned to life.
Sussman, at home, chats with his wife over dinner.
Rabbi Nachtner:. . . These questions that are bothering you, Larry—maybe they’re like a Toothache. We feel them for a while, Then they go away.
Sussman lies in bed sleeping, smiling, an arm thrown across his wife.
Back in the rabbi’s office, Larry is dissatisfied.
Larry: I don’t want it to just go away! I want an answer!
Rabbi Nachtner: The answer! Sure! We all want the answer! But Hashem doesn’t owe us the answer, Larry. Hashem doesn’t owe us anything. The obligation runs the other way.
Larry: Why does he make us feel the questions if he’s not going to give us any answers?
Rabbi Nachtner smiles at Larry.
Rabbi Nachtner: He hasn’t told me.
Larry rubs his face, frustrated.
 Most Memorable Dialogue: The last and elder Rabbi, Marshak, at the end talks to the Bar mitzvah boy, Danny, and returns the transistor radio confiscated from him by his teacher.
Finally:
Marshak: When the truth is found. To be lies.
He pauses. He clears his throat.
At length:
Marshak:. . . And all the hope. Within you dies.
Another beat. Danny waits. Marshak stares.
He smacks his lips again. He thinks.
Marshak:. . . Then what?
Danny doesn’t answer. It is unclear whether answer is expected.
Marshak clears his throat with a loud and thorough hawking.
The hawking abates. Marshak sniffs.
Marshak:. . . Grace Slick. Marty Balin. Paul Kanta. Jorma. . . somethin. These are the membas of the Airplane.
He nods a couple of times.
Marshak:. . . Interesting.
He reaches up and slowly opens his desk drawer. He withdraws something. He lays it on the bare desk and pushes it across.
Marshak:. . . Here.
It is Danny’s radio.
Marshak:. . . Be a good boy.
What Did I Learn About Screenwriting From Reading This Script: I learned that camera direction can be very useful and can help to visualize the story cinematically. One criticism I’ve heard about some screenplays is that they aren’t cinematic enough. I think screenwriters have to be conscious of this, and able to picture the script on the screen. Reading this script is like watching a film.

I learned that there is something very beautiful in simplicity. Something like a phrase from a song you love, or even the basic theme of a bible story (like the story of Job), can inspire a cool movie.
I learned that ambiguity and subtlety can make the audience think and make a film much more interactive that way. Those are the kinds of films I tend to like the most. The idea that some people can get something out of it, while others may not, gives the film a controversial reaction and starts a conversation.

Finally, don’t be afraid to break rules and conventions. You just might invent something very original.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

You're Killing Me

Ted Hope posted about the poor state of indie film distribution, his frustration with deals that pay out so little that screw indie producers, and how he's decided to stop producing. This marks a turning point. I had to respond with this comment:
The main reason indie films have distribution problems has to do with compulsive behavior to take whatever deal you can get. [Distributor-Sales Agent] Lists are good, if they are vetted. There are a lot of unscrupulous players out there. And even with good distributors and sales agents, you have to hold out for the terms you want.
If indie filmmakers keep signing all rights deals, then that becomes the norm. If we give distributors 20% off the gross, or add P&A expenses first, then that becomes the norm. These things kill independent film.
I'm pretty sure that in any other industry, the manufacturer is paid a wholesale price for product. If it's not all sold there may be some return. But you don't see retail outlets deducting advertising costs from sales or taking 20% off the remainder sales gross before the manufacturer sees a dime. No manufacturer would agree to those terms. Why do we?
I'm pissed that the guy who produced 21 Grams doesn't want to produce more films, and because I
think it's the fault of most indie filmmakers who take bad deals. 

Every time a producer signs an all rights deal without a six month performance agreement, or with a back-end 20/80 split after unaccountable P&A (publicity and adverting). they are hurting all of our chances to make a sustainable living with film. Maybe filmmakers need more education.

It's just my opinion (see others here), but filmmakers should always retain rights. For example, sign limited rights for a limited period of time, such as six months for foreign territories (performance agreement), while retaining the right to separate domestic distribution, and direct website and digital. If a distributor can't get you a deal in six months you need to move on to someone else or do it yourself. Films age fast. Some are even more timely than others.

You need foresight when you write a screenplay or start a production. I started filming health care reform protests in 2009. I didn't know anything about health care reform. All I knew was that a lot of people were gathering in the streets to complain about it. And it was completely ignored by the news media.  If there's one thing I hate it's the news media ignoring people.  I will not be ignored.

Out there I learned through interviews what it was all about. My questions were as much for me as for my audience. I was amazed to find doctors and nurses out in the streets in these protests. They were (and are) besides themselves helplessly watching people suffer and die, for lack of health care, at the hands of insurance companies who make insurance unaffordable, or even deny claims when people do have insurance. The statistics are outrageous. 48,000 Americans die every year for lack of health care. This happens in no other industrialized country where health care is considered a human necessity, like food, water, police, fire protection, or the golden military. America ranks 37th in healthcare performance and 51st in healthcare fairness among other countries of the world. Cuba has a more fair system than America does. So this got me passionate enough to see through the making of a feature documentary over the next four years.

But the film was not marketable (as Maureen Cruise, my exec producer, notes here). You could assume that distributors did not want to promote a film counter to the healthcare industries (insurance, pharmaceuticals, cancer, hospitals, medical devices) that comprise one-sixth of the American economy (with a 30% overhead), despite the fact that 16 times the number of Americans killed in 9/11 are effectively killed by these industry lobbies every year. So when I was offered an all rights deal at a 40/60 back end split, if I would change the title of my film, my answer was no deal. They offered better terms. But I didn't like the company, nor three others as well. Never heard of them. No deal is better than a bad deal. Post that to your wall. So I decided I would stick to self distribution on my website and Amazon. Maybe I'll go up on Vimeo.

The point I'm making is that you can't take the first deal that comes along, nor the second, third, fourth, nor any, if they aren't good deals. However, most first time filmmakers jump at bad deals. It is almost unheard of to pay an indie filmmaker upfront for their hard work (especially without stars). In the indie world there are rare cases of the MG (minimum guarantee), which means a distributor will agree to pay a minimum amount of maybe $20K for example (usually a paltry sum like that), for the acquisition of your film. There are also rare cases of pre-sales, which means the distributor finds foreign territories that agree to pay a certain amount (usually totaling between 20% and the more unlikely 70% of your budget) for the acquisition of your film. I wouldn't mind some pre-sales and MGs if I could get them. Add 30% pre-sales to 30% in tax credits and you have funded 60% of your budget before the start of production. With that, you can likely easily find investors to back the rest of your budget. But you'll have to finance that 60%, because you don't get it all back until well after the film is finished. If your budget is under two to five million, you likely have to have private investors do that financing for you. A bank or bond company will not be interested otherwise. Regardless, you have to add around 10%-20% of the financed amount to your budget for interest, plus maybe 2% for a bond. That's the way to get a film financed. Also with pre-sales and a signed on distributor, assuming they are credible, you have built in distribution to your project before you even start. Then after production you move on to the next project instead of spending a year or two to find distribution deals or to self distribute. Nice work if you can get it.


If you can't get pre-sales or MGs, then you are left with the tax incentives (up to 30%) and the rest has to be from private investors. On a low budget film, that's doable. But without the MGs or pre-sales, you don't have skin in the game from any distributor. So I think it becomes more likely you'll see bad deal offers, which you should refuse, or revise the terms of. Of course, your investors may pressure you to take them, because of the false perception that having any distributor is lucrative. There are all kinds of distributors and all kinds of deals. Odds are you'll see nothing at all from them. It's likely you can do better to self distribute, especially with the advancement of internet digital distribution.

Self distribution can include self-theatrical (as with Tugg), and digital platforms like Fandor and Vimeo. There are others that you really need to have an aggregator for, like YouTube, Distrfy, Hulu, Roku, iTunes (which I think includes Vudu), and others. An aggregator is a digital distributor that does not deal with theatrical or other things that traditional distributors do, such as P&A.  Indie Rights is an aggregator (and production company) that will give you some great information even if you don't sign with them. They'll tell you where you can easily distribute on your own as opposed to where you need an aggregator. Distributors have to market your film, which is why they want a take, right off the top, to recoup their expenses. So you have to decide if their services are really worth you and your investors making nothing for you effort. But a lot of indie filmmakers and their investors are star-struck and will sign any deal they can get. Without MGs, pre-sales, or contracts that stipulate VOD, cable, TV or theatrical, distributors can take you for a ride. They can go to the aggregators and keep 20% plus the 20% they pay the aggregator as an expense, plus their possibly non-existent unaccountable P&A, leaving you with nothing. If you go direct to an aggregator, they take a straight 20%. But I would want to have some transparency in their accounting as well.

All these numbers vary by film and with time. Things change. A film with names may be more marketable and draw more interest. Splits and interest charges change. You have to talk to a working sales agent or aggregator that has the pulse of the industry to find out what your film can do, and you should do that before shooting one frame, and before booking one actor.  [More on this process information on Stacey Parks's FilmSpecific and Adam Cultraro's Million Dollar Blueprint]

When most filmmakers take bad deals from distributors they make it bad for all of us. It is now the norm to get an initial offer from a distributor for a 40/60 split after P&A or even nothing. In other words, it is now standard practice in the industry to take indie films from filmmakers for nothing in return.  The reason this happens is because indie filmmakers agree to these deals. We give away our films for free. Our $3 billion indie film industry makes a 2% profit because of our bad star-struck habits. Two years after you make that deal, you're frustrated with the business, bitching about festivals and how you can't get a deal, or if you get a deal, how you can't make any money, and so you quit and become an accountant or you make reality shows or you make wine. You're killing yourselves. You're killing the industry. You're killing me.

You may say, well that's the way the business is. If I don't take that bad deal, I won't get any deal. Good. No deal is better than a bad deal (Peter Broderick).  If no one takes bad deals, bad deals will cease to exist. If you keep taking bad deals then don't whine and moan about how bad the industry is, or how it's a boys club, or how the studios screw you over. They screw you because you agree to let them. Think before you sign. Research. Vett. Get an attorney. Where will you be in two years? Will you pay back your investors. Will you be able to say you made a profitable film? Will you be able to find funding for the next one? Will you spend two years at film markets selling instead of making movies?

Capitalism works by supply and demand. Wait for a good deal. Starve the supply. Create demand. The market can't sell films without films to sell. We see the markets manipulated. But as a filmmaker, you are part of it. You can agree or not agree to deals. The market is what we collectively make it. Every time a filmmaker makes a bad deal it hurts us all. It is better to make your film on the cheap with no intention of distribution or sales. If you need investors tell them, this will not be distributed. No money will result. At least then you are free to make your movie and it will add to your experience and repertoire. It will gain you some respect, colleagues, and contacts. It will be the making of a movie and not the selling of stuff at the market. What am I missing?

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Why and How to get a Distribution Deal?

Film Production and Distribution
in one Indie Company
You're an indie filmmaker. You can get by with relatively inexpensive equipment, cast and crew and make movies. I made a short a few years ago for $3K, just for camera, sound, and editing software. Then I used the same stuff to do another one for the cost of feeding the cast and crew, about $500. A few years later I made a feature doc for $3K with some new HD stuff. But you don't need a cast or crew for docs. All you need is a camera, editing software, and great events to attend. However, if you do want a cast and crew, and you don't happen to know film school buddies willing to work for free, you really have to pay them, and you may need locations, props, and so on. So we see budgets more likely starting at $50K to $500K for first time feature director narratives.

If you want your film to be attractive to sales agents and distributors you will likely need some name talent. That will cost you anywhere from $5K to $50K at a minimum for a week of their time, depending on how hard up they are for work. But lately the trend is away from names and towards just really compelling stories. The script has become all important as it should be. With a great script you probably can attract some names anyway, which would add marketing value. Actors will want a killer script before they're willing to work cheaply or for a back end.

This is known as the chicken and egg dance thing that filmmakers do with talent and distributors. If you have a script good enough to attract talent, they (their agents actually) may be interested, but they will likely want to first know that your project is funded. If you had the talent signed on first, you could more easily find investors, or even pre-sales to fund the project, just based on the talent. So you have to be creative. Tell the talent that yes you're funded, which you will be if they are interested after reading the script (but don't tell them all that), assuming your distributor and investors concur. And yet it's not that quite easy.

There are requirements and priorities you have to have in place before talking to talent or distributors.
  • The script has to be compelling. 
  • You have to have a vetted project. You need a professionally done budget and shooting schedule by an experienced UPM (around $2K to $5K). 
  • You need to have a crew lined up (to be paid upon funding). And that crew or production company should have a track record. 
  • You also need to register a company (from $400 and up annually), 
  • and hire an attorney (around $5K) to review contracts and give your project credibility 
  • You need some completed work, short films, or maybe a proof of concept short film or trailer
Whoever looks at your project will want to know that you can actually pull it off (Why should they invest thousands of dollars?). With those things in place you can go to a state film commission to get approved for tax credits, up to 30% or so of your budget. State approval says your project is real to investors and distributors, and you can claim that as a funded part of the budget. Maybe you can get grants or government subsidies, especially outside the US. But the question may remain, is it marketable?

Part of the dance thing is to check with sales agents what talent you have in mind and how marketable they are for your project. If you don't have names, you should have a skilled cast. And this is where things fall apart for me. Because I think that named talent are in demand because of their talent. It's unlikely a cast without names can pull it off as well. But not impossible. Maybe you can find some good actors. You probably need at least a good CD (casting director) to help you do that. And a good CD costs at least $5K, maybe $20K. No, that hot girl you met in college is not that good of an actor.

Here is some in dept information from first hand accounts of this process:
I should credit most of my information to Stacey Parks and Adam Cultraro. Although it's general knowledge as well. Stacey is a former sales agent with a website, FilmSpecific.com. Adam is a successful indie producer-director who used the same concepts mentioned above which Stacey discusses and teaches on her website. It's like a grad school in film distribution, considering the huge amount of information she offers. Adam has a series of podcasts on that site (like this one), which are referred to as the Million Dollar Blueprint, where he discusses his own direct experiences doing these things. He was able to sign Tom Sizemore for $5K, I think, since Tom was just out of jail looking for new work (not anymore). Anyway, that is my original source of information and has proven to be solid for others as well. This information also changes from year to year. But this is just the tip of the iceberg of traditional distribution. Digital or self distribution is another thing.  Although, if you go through the traditional route, you'll likely end up with a traditional distribution deal that puts your film out on digital platforms, and if you're lucky and marketable, maybe VOD or cable as well. 

Distributors take around 20% off the gross, and that's after their expenses, which are not necessarily accountable. So you should be sure to include terms in your distribution deals that limit P&A expenses or even better, exclude them completely and let the distributor absorb them.

If the best you can do with traditional distribution is to land digital and DVD sales, it is not worth the trouble. You can do that level of distribution on your own and keep 100% of the gross.  You'd have to do your own marketing. But what kind of marketing will a distributor do for you? It should be way better than what you can do on your own. And I would want a deal to include cable and VOD. You should make sure these things are all in your contract and run it by a trusted attorney. You should assume that you will have to sue to get your share of the gross. In fact, it's common knowledge to assume that any first time filmmaker can expect nothing in terms of money from a distribution deal.

That means the only reason to do it is for exposure and to gain a track record. But will that actually happen? With thousands of digital titles on the market, how will your film be found and noticed. If all you want is to gain experience and recognition, you can do that without traditional distribution and even come out with some profit. The glamor and fame are not likely to happen anyway.

If you have to answer to investors or talent with contract stipulations, you may not have that option. But you should explain to them upfront that direct sales could turn out to be more lucrative than a distribution deal.


Saturday, August 3, 2013

The Canyons: A Cool 60s Grindhouse Thowback Mirror of Hollywood

It doesn't take place in the 60s. It's modern day. But the style of the film is totally retro. It's grindhouse. I'd love to hear Tarantino's take on it. And if he hates it, I still love it.  We see Deen's character arc from bad to worse. And Lindsay's from scared to petrified. We see a world of people who live for money.  There is back stabbing, cruelty, cheating, and perversion. Yet there is love and romance amidst it all. But in the end the bad stuff extinguishes the good. This is true Hollywood with a true real Hollywood end. It's not the fairy tale people want to be lulled into complacency by.

And the music is great. Son of Perdition (featuring Rob James) sounds like a 60s Lee Hazelwood. The rest of Brendan Canning & me&john's soundtrack is great and hits that undercurrent of decayed Hollywood theaters, and decayed Hollywood people; topped of with classic Dum Dum Girls' Coming Down.

Yes, there are technical flaws, maybe. Or maybe it's just a casual style. There's stuff that an experienced contemporary filmmaker would look at and say, it's terrible, it's amateur. But is it really flawed or is it just that the viewer is so accustomed to homogenized perfect Barbie world tripe?  And that's part of the nostalgia. 60's films were like that; grungy, less than perfect. People didn't care. They just wanted to see the film, or maybe take their sex-mate to a drive in and get it on . And when was the last time a major Hollywood film was actually X rated? Today's world is so conservatively annal retentive about being political, fashionably, and financially perfect.

James Deen and Lindsay Lohan
When I watch this movie I look past all that perfection crap and I look at the meat of the matter, and I'm not talking about James Deen's wad or Lindsay's naked breasts. I'm talking about the story and the quality of the basic cinematic story aspects. Get past where you think the lighting isn't right, or there's something distracting in the background. That kind of critical thinking is based on what you expect a  movie to be. It's a perception,  based on media hype about what a film should look like. But that definition of is only technical excellence. You may like the Hangover series. They are technically perfect. I think they suck ass. The Canyons is an unusual film about the decay of Hollywood. Not just the physical decay of abandoned movie theaters.  But the decay of the people who make films who stoop to personal fulfillment over some kind of selfless contribution to film (In case you're from Hollywood, selfless means you don't care about your self, over some kind of greater good).

I think the plethora of critics coming out in droves with hate and disdain for this movie, actually fear what they see in the mirror. Do any of them find anything good to say? Obviously none of them were brought up to stay silent unless you have something nice to say to people (neither was I). And that's why this movie is their mirror. If you believe something is bad and you tell others it's bad, then it's perceived as bad.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Hollywood would Never ever give this Information a Forum

Got Healthcare? (the question of the century) is a 90 minute documentary film. This stream of conversation documentary is a passionate energetic discussion on the various issues that continue to surround health care reform in America and the world. Doctors, nurses, and activists (both pro and con on reform) seemingly converse in a give and take of ideas compared and contrasted through editing. It was shot beginning in 2009 during the height of street protests, as formation of the current U.S. law was debated. The film contains updated reactions to the new law from as late as 2012. The film focuses on the issue of a single payer (Medicare for all) system, unlike any other health care related films that are currently prominent.


Out in the Street Films is happy to have Maureen Cruise, RN, join their team as an executive producer for distribution. Maureen was one of the main activists interviewed in the film, and upon seeing the final cut became enthused about having the film widely seen. She has a wealth of experience in politics and as a retired public health care nurse in Los Angeles County. She is a walking encyclopedia on all issues concerning healthcare reform. The stream of conversation film style uses interviewees to tell the story and explain concepts instead of the more traditional high profile "name" actor with cute graphics. The film was shot on a very low original production budget of about $3,000 and without a production crew by producer-director-photographer, Jon Raymond. Jon also edited the film. The final effect is an unpolished gritty street reality look, as much out of necessity as by choice.

Current global corporate pressures threaten to to water down or remove social and economic benefits in numerous Euro nations, including healthcare. A recent United Kingdom news article titled, Fury as first privately run NHS hospital racks up £4.1m loss (Oct 28 2012 by Nick Dorman, The People) indicates that the NHS (Britain's National Health Service) failed at an attempt to privatize health care with patient satisfaction down from 1st to 14th place. As you may know, Europeans are very aware of what happens in the US, often incredulous even, and rightly so. Understanding our very sick system, might prepare worldwide audiences for any such moves on the part of their increasingly right-of-center veering administrations. A clear unapologetic view of the US for-profit system and it's criminality (45,000 Americans die annually for lack of healthcare according to a Harvard study) should scare the pants off anybody who understands and enjoys healthcare as a human right. It is a shocking situation, and non Americans will be astounded by the facts in this film. Maureen, a long time street activist and independent film lover applauds Got Healthcare? as follows:
My office file is full of amazing indie films made by one or few persons with no budget, yet who provide very interesting, well researched and sensational knowledge that I appreciate having. I see these films at forums and issues conventions. Hollywood would never ever give this information a forum. Their focus is entertainment not information. And it is star driven. My celebrities are the people in the street. HOORAY! So I am thrilled that many people are making documentary films and disseminating what corporate media has not only ignored but also drowned out with glossy schlock. The questions for me are: Does this interest people? Does it reveal information? Does it strengthen our human bond? Do people like it? - Maureen Cruise

Maureen is also a member of PNHP (Physicians for a National Health Program) and CNA (California Nurse Association). PNHP, CNA and member doctors and nurses are prominent throughout the film, among the 65 street activists interviewed. Maureen has promoted the film at various activist events where it has been screened and well received as the following typical testimony indicates:
I watched the movie and it's excellent! Especially liked the way you traced the trajectory of Obama's downfall from single-payer preference to the mess that is PPACA. The woman who defined Socialism as a shortage of toilet paper is, alas, a classic. I've met many like her. The American public has so much to learn..... We're grateful for your efforts, and hope to spread the word far and wide. - Carol Tvaroh

Friday, January 8, 2010

A Film Festival Genome Project

I had a thought after listening to Tim Westergen talk about Pandora Radio and The Music Genome Project , and how that should be applied to films. Many filmmakers are frustrated with the rejections they get from film festivals. Arin Crumley and Susan Buice really shed a lot of light on this process with Four Eyed Monsters and the accompanying vlogs where they talk about the festival and marketing processes they went through. So add 2+2 and what you get is this: a gnome film festival.

If you're not familiar with Genome, listen to Tim on the Workbook Project's This Conference is being Recorded archives. The Genome project categories music, one track at a time into about 400 attributes with ratings in each one (as I understand it). As Tim says, this translates into a truly democratic form of music promotion based on these categories and based on comparing the music that a listener wants to hear with other music that has the same characteristics.

So there would really be no direct all encompassing human judgment factor on rating an entire film. It's more on these individual traits. In film you could have categories like acting, actor, directing, director, photography, DP, genre, running time, locations, production company, on and on.

This makes so much sense for film festivals where fairness really is an important issue and one that is now clearly forsaken over branding, theme, diversity and other marketing factors that really are what drive film festivals.

Of course the Genoming [sic] of thousands of films submitted to festivals would be a monumental undertaking. So I think it would have to be something of a universal service for all festivals (like Withoutabox, which in fact already does this on a very small scale of non-merit factors), where you have a company categorize films and then you'd have festivals look at that database and select what they want. But again you could end up with festivals choosing films based more on marketing factors than quality or originality or other more merit type factors, and you'd also have to deal with devising a good objective way to rate acting, writing, directing and artist type performance.

Perhaps there could be a new wave of festivals that would choose film solely on the merit and quality categories, or at least those could be the primary factors with marketing playing a secondary role.

Another important point here is that filmmakers need and even crave objective feedback. This would give them that feedback and could even serve as a marketing information database for the entire industry. Filmmakers, studios, distributors and anyone involved with film production or distribution should be willing to pay at least something for such a service.

I'm both a filmmaker and an experienced data-driven software project developer and I think his would be really not a big deal to make happen. But it would cost. It would take a lot of labor to categorize films, and ongoing labor to maintain it; plus coming up with categorization strategies would also be a major hurdle. But probably Tim and the Gnome Project could help out with some insight on that.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Dana Stevens' Obtuse review of Charlie Kaufman and his Film, Synecdoche, New York

Apparently Ms.Stevens, in Everyone Sucks, her review of Synecdoche, New York , doesn't understand the difference between a value judgment and an objective criticism. She finds this movie "disappointing". Yet she says, "The movie's sense of temporal dislocation is profound and pervasive and very skillfully done..." Then, in the most self contradictory statement she could ever have written, "Synecdoche contains moments of beauty so aching, you find yourself mentally scrambling to fill in the movie that should have existed around them...."

Does it have beauty or not, Ms. Stevens? You rant on in your little audio log about the great things about this movie. Then you descend into how depressing it was and how down it made you feel and how you wished so much the character had something more, in terms of some kind of uplifting cliche Hollywood ending, I can only guess. How obtuse of you.

If you didn't like it, that's a matter of taste. As you say, there are beautiful aspects. That fact that the movie has you in a quandary coming to this bizarre ambivalent conclusion that's it fails in some way because Kaufman directed it, but is yet so beautiful, is absurd, ridiculous, but most of all ignorant and immature.

What if the film is supposed to make you come to some higher plain of awareness that people do trudge through their lives, secretly believing that something great will happen, that someone special will someday come along and redeem them or make them whole in some way? What if that is all the film is about? A fat dumb and happy Hollywood ending would kill it. It has to be what it is. It is genius and apparently beyond your intellectual grasp.

Sure it wasn't as cinematic as Eternal Sunshine. But that was that, and this is this. Appreciate this film for what it is. It is tremendous. I feel this film (were it not for self infatuated reviewers like yourself or for audiences with the same limited intellect) could change people to a higher level of self awareness, to motivate them into doing something real with their lives instead of just trudging onward toward death with false hopes and dreams.

And then you have the disdain and condescension to tell people to give Charlie Kaufman a hug.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

The Poker House: This film is amazing

I caught the world premier tonight at the LA Film Festival. Not a dry eye in the house. The audience went nuts. Standing ovation. It has a hard hitting ending that actually hits home in the credits, similar to how No Country for Old Men did but this one doesn't leave you guessing. It just leaves you in tears. What an incredible cast. But I'd have to say the real star of this film is the director, Lori Petty.

I do think it will be hard to sell. I predict it will go to DVD as do most festival features. It's a shame because this film deserves a theatrical release. Like I expected, the woman's perspective from writer-director Lori Petty is so original and refreshing.

The big problem with distribution is the same thing that makes this a great film, it's subject matter; that being the story of three young girls growing up in a poker house with a hooker mother and an abusive pimp along with their seedy associates. People don't want to hear that films like this are playing at the cineplex. They don't want to know what really goes on in America.

I was discussing this film with someone who mentioned Memoirs of a Geisha in comparison, which got me to thinking about how Geishas are highly respected and trained as in a profession. But in the US people in this business deal with drugs, guns, pimps and violence. It's one of the most outrageous saddest state of affairs that plague American society, and the reason is because it is illegal in most every state, forcing it into the hands of underworld unscrupulous characters.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Indie Film: Ignoring Quality

I saw the premier of an indie film a few weeks ago, How to Rob a Bank. This wasn't too bad of a film. But, nothing to write home about. Then maybe it'll grow on me. But, I got the feeling I was watching someone's cousin who had the right connections to get something produced, and not a diamond in the rough, as we'd like to think are found at indie fests. It's a shame, because the story is good, the premise is good, the acting is good, the camera and sound are good. The execution is lacking.

If I had read the screenplay that I'm assuming this film was made from, I can imagine it wouldn't get too far in terms of what you'd expect typical prodco readers want to see in a good screenplay, if there are typical prodco readers.

It has holes in it. It lags in places. A few people actually walked out of the theater. I think the guy next to me fell asleep, and he was on the crew.

We hear so much about how a screenplay has to be a good compelling story. If it's a comedy it should keep you laughing every few minutes. The action should keep up a pace. Then you go to a fest and see some sophomoric B film like this.

I think the cast and crew put forth an admirable effort. But, the script clearly wasn't ready, unless you don't mind competing with stuff like 40 Year Old Virgin. Even that was more polished.

But, this isn't the only film at the fest I thought violated high standards. Some of the others were slow and lagging too. There seems to be a lower bar at fests where filmmakers can put out lower quality stuff that you know could be improved if they'd just put more effort into it, and I mean effort into the story, screenplay and editing. They shine in the production phase. But, films are so much more than working 20 hour days on the set, no matter how good of a job it is.

Festivals

Something I do notice at festivals is that although almost every film is amateurish and has obvious flaws, there is always something redeeming there. Sometimes, it's just the passion of the director, cast and crew that shines through, and you can forgive the flagrant violations of things like poor angles, lulls in the story, static shots, and more. A lot of that is due to low budgets, maybe an inexperienced DP or inability to do re-shoots.

I saw an Iranian film that repeatedly had long shots holding on one character in a two way dialog, not showing the other until at the end as a quick reaction. I could tell that rated very low with a lot of viewers. But, if you could look past that, you might see some great merit.

The things I can't forgive are things fixable with just a little more effort, like weak or slow stories, pacing, or editing.

There are always those with high standards in terms of a finished look. They don't think of themselves as snobs, but that's what they are, because they criticize based on what they expect to see in a Hollywood film. Just breaking a few conventions will throw these people off. They're missing the point. The same people would consider 40 Year Old Virgin a good film. I'd take a decent story with unmotivated angles over that film anytime. In the context of indie filmmaking criticisms concerning the polish of the work really aren't valid. When there is polish there it's icing. It's what might win the fest instead of placing.

There aren't many great films in all existence, let alone at a festival. How many at the LA Film Fest would you say stack up to any of the IMDB or AFI top 100? I'd say, exactly none. So, there's plenty of room for criticism on any of these indie greats. No matter how much you liked How to Rob a Bank or think it was pretty much flawless, and I can see how some could say that, it ain't no Saving Private Ryan.

It's a matter of relativity. Relativity to trailer versus the actual short, relativity to something done on little to no resources. Relativity to your particular prejudices and notions about quality.....

I'm referring to things in pre and post, the story, script, editing. I know the masses of cast and crew work diligent 20 hours days. But, that's not all there is to making a film. The most important part is the script. You might say in terms of man-hours, 90% of the work is done in production. But, in terms of importance to the project 90% is done in pre and post. I always get the feeling at the fests that the directors and producers lag in the area of polishing the script and making sure they have a good cut, even if it means spending another year at it. They seem to be playing to the cast and crew, who are their anxious audience waiting with baited breath for the premier. That's not the place to focus your energy.

Rules?

To clarify my meaning, I feel that great artists need talent and must know a craft. That doesn't mean all artists who are great in a given discipline, like writing, have to know the same craft and all apply the same tools to their work. It means they need to know their own craft, which could be unique. So, to make blanket statement like 'never break the 180', 'use motivated angles', 'use a three act structure' and on and on, is like saying artists must apply certain rules or conventions to be successful.

This is a fallacy. It may be useful for artists to use similar tools if the tools work for them. But, there are no tools, rules, or conventions that are mandatory for success, except maybe something more abstract and blanket like the rule that art must be compelling or interesting. But even that is optional. Art can be disturbing, repulsive, disgusting. It may have a limited audience but it could still be successful. It worked for Lynch to get him an AFI grant and launch his career.

It's just plain wrong to say you need any conventions. You may need them. But don't project your needs upon others.

Now, if you look at a work and say, "it just isn't compelling, I couldn't get past the first page, no one will ever watch that, people walked out after the first 10 minutes", and if others agree with you, then I think you might have a good argument that something isn't working. But, you still don't know that it's these conventions that are missing, unless you can take the work and point out specifically how a certain tool works to make better. But, in doing that you've applied your craft, not the artist's craft and it becomes your work and not theirs. They must agree and apply the tool you suggest, if they find it valid. But, they could just as well make an alteration with their own tools, like a fluid camera for example, that will make it work.

When you and others apply certain conventions or tools across all work, it then takes on the attribute of being a rule. It's seems you think certain things are always necessary and must be done, just as with laws, people must always do certain things that are mandatory, like drive on the right side of the road. When you do this you are creating rules. But in art no rule is mandatory. Every one of them is optional. So, effectively there are no rules, only guidelines.

David Lynch

I think Lynch's shorts fall into the category of art that some would define as bad art. The thing about them is originality. If something is original enough it is interesting and it's quality doesn't matter. If you look at Clerks, you could say quality is lacking, yet it's highly original. Lenny Bruce might be another example.

I'm curious what the critics here would have to say about Lynch's shorts. Look at the reviews of them here. Most here would probably say he sucks as well. What people are missing is that consideration has to be given to the circumstances and restrictions under which the films were made. Another consideration should be originality. one implied my trailer is no more original than a thousand others they've seen. But, I feel there is originality there that is interpreted as bad craft disguised as artsy technique. It's no more that than Tarantino's Death Proof is as unoriginal as the grindhouse films he is paying homage to. Oh, pardon me if you think I'm comparing myself to Tarantino. It's an analogy, not a comparison. But, of course, those who think I suck largely think he does too.

But, I don't think Lynch had a movie audience for his short films, as we'd consider one when we write. He may have had an art community audience (God forbid). His first one Six Men Getting Sick was a continuous loop played at galleries. So, while the audience matters, which audience matters? In this case it's the one that got AFI to consider his work. The point is audiences differ quite a bit. You must know this well. That audience would call the work of probably anyone here passe, unoriginal, and they'd likely sneer at us.

But, when we make a film and put in into festivals, that's a specific audience too, one that I think likes originality above all else and forgives technical problems, taking resources into consideration, and looking for passion and promise in the filmmakers, not polish.

This topic has been discussed in detail here.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

What kind of producer are you looking for?

I'm a producer. I can produce your film. There are thousands more just like me looking for a good script.

Here's the catch. We're not Hollywood studios. We can't give you a $10K payment upfront, can't option your script for more than a cup of coffee, can't work with a budget over six figures, sometimes only five figures, sometimes four, sometimes three, sometimes two. We need scripts with easy locations, no extras, just a few major roles. Well, not always. It is fairly easy to find all kinds of actors looking for any kind of work. By the way, I fit into the two figures category. But then you can buy four hours of DV tape for $20 bucks. It's simply a matter of who you point it at. Then you never know. With the right script I could just find a good backer out there.

Here's another catch. Most of us are writer-producer-directors. That means we'd just as soon write and produce our own stuff. A lot less argument, less negotiation. A lot easier to know the story when you write it yourself. Then again, we get writer's block like anyone else. So, anything could work.

What we can do is produce your script. Given the right script we'll make it into a film, maybe get it distributed, shop it at the festivals, maybe even find a studio backer to pump it up into a big Hollywood studio production. Maybe not. But, you run the same exact gamble with the big studios. Where do you think the phrase "development hell" comes from?

The question is, what are you willing to settle for? You can make a deal to have your script done on a limited non-profit basis with an indie like me. Look up the WGA low budget agreements. You can make your demands. Take your money on the back end, if there ever is a back end. If the film makes it to one festival or is shown in one theater, you can have it listed on IMDB. Not a big deal to some, but one credit there is certainly better than none.

You have to walk before you can run. Don't have any big time Hollywood producers knocking at your door? Haven't won any prestigious festivals? Well, here's your chance. Find a producer in the same boat you're in. Collaborate. You think you have what it takes, then show your stuff. Put your money where your mouth is.

One note of caution. Indie producers are looking for even better quality in a script than most Hollywood producers are. The indie circuit works with original, meaningful, poignant, touching stories. Sometimes just original with no story at all. No genre trite formulas. No zany bathroom humor. Not unless it's also very original.  Originality is the key. It's like location in the real estate market. Originality, originality, originality.

Even indie producers will ignore you, not take your calls, not get back to you, not want your script. After all they have the same few hundred thousands of scripts to choose from as the big boys do.

Another note of caution. Not all indie producers are interested in quality work. There are some not worth your time. You're out in the street here. Any joe with a few bucks can claim to be a producer and even shoot a film. The producer might be unscrupulous, dangerous even. But, the same applies to the big players. So, do your homework. Copyright your work. Get an agreement of some kind up front before you even submit a script. This is standard legal stuff. Know your target producer, what they've done, what potential they show, if they've been in jail lately. Then again, some good people have been in jail. Have they won a festival? Big plus! However, if any producer is willing to spend a year or so of their life on your film they must at least believe in themself. That can't be bad.

Anyway, it is another market to consider; one with very high standards where to see any kind of success only the very talented need apply, and even then it probably won't happen.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Making Indie Films

Auditions

We were casting for our new film, Next Victim Please. Catchy title, ain’t it? You have no idea how ironic. Anyway, there’s this thing going around in the industry where any actor in an acting class or acting school or getting advice online, you name it; they tell actors to never audition in someone’s private home or apartment, because you never know what kind of twisted freak might be there luring pretty young actors into their lair.

Now, the logic of this escapes me. A sex maniac could just as easily rent out a small office space for a day in some sequestered hole in some old Hollywood high rise where you could get lost and never be found until the stink got bad enough for the cleaning lady to pitch a bitch fit. But, a family man like me, with wife and kids, living in an upscale neighborhood, and holding auditions on a bright sunny Saturday afternoon, in my ground floor townhouse apartment with lots of nosey neighbors checking out the hot female actors coming in; I would be considered a threat to these ladies’ safety.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m no goody two-shoes with impeccable morals. I find pretty young women actors just as attractive as the next casting director or studio producer working out of Warner, Universal, or that dingy old Hollywood high rise.

Why this nebulous and un-authored, unaccounted for rule about private residences exists, is beside the point. The fact remains I had about four hundred people respond to my casting call. I selected about 50 to audition. Half of them didn’t respond. Half of those remaining called to cancel, and most of those people, who didn’t have a husband in a car wreck, a bad cold, or some other fatal emergency, didn’t want to audition in a private residence. I guess that excuse has now dethroned the time tested ‘dog ate my homework’ Regardless, I really don’t care why or if someone wants to cancel.

Of course, they waited until the day of the audition, 30 minutes before their scheduled times to call and tell me this. I guess I missed where I was pissing in their Wheaties.

I really should try to keep track of these industry standards. Let’s review.

  1. Never go to auditions in private residences, but dark, dank, tucked away cubby hole rented out offices in old Hollywood high rise buildings are OK..
  2. It’s alright to submit to auditions, though, without regard for where they take place, just to get your name in there.
  3. If you cancel, be sure to give a real good excuse, like
    1. family emergency,
    2. have a cold, or
    3. If you’re really feeling sadistic, tell them you’d rather not audition in a private residence, since they could be some kind of sick pervert.
  4. Never cancel sooner than 30 minutes before you’re expected to show up.
  5. Keep bitching to your friends about how hard it is to break into the industry.

Back at the pervert’s apartment, I end up with about 25 people who actually show up to audition. But, why am I complaining? These 25 were pretty damned good. I had done this before and at that time (it must have been before terrorism was a popular government propaganda subject and before paranoia had become an epidemic) I had a much bigger turnout, about 150 people. But, of those only 5 or 6 were worth considering. The rest either didn’t fit the roles or just sucked. But, these 25 were about as good as those 5 or 6. Ironically, my whole process had improved to net me a selection of 5 times as many good people to choose from, while having to sit through one-fifth as many auditions. Well, maybe government propaganda to proliferate paranoia was pretty cool (say that fast 3 times). But, you can’t really give them the credit. It could just as well have been a full moon, if you know how flighty union actors are.

Now, I was not doing this alone. I had my wife, my co-producer-co-director-screenwriter Nancy and her husband helping me out. We were doing this. But, it did get boring as one actor after another called to say they thought the audition was downtown and since it was at an apartment they didn’t feel comfortable coming. Hey, they could just as well of said they were on a drunk binge the night before. What do I care why they couldn’t come?

We’re sitting around waiting for the next cancellation and we start talking about expanding the script to a feature, where we can get a sound stage; stuff like that. Nancy is actually quite happy, because of the first five people who did show, she was already willing to cast the 3 leads we needed. So, she takes a headshot of a male actor and holds it next to a female actor, and starts play acting the dialog, like cut out dolls. Ok, she’s lost it. Of course, as soon as we’ve found something constructive to do, some damned actor has to actually show up for an audition.

Alright, you can’t really judge actors in an audition. They’re always nervous, or on the other end of the spectrum, they’re so up on their game that they’ll never be as good when it’s time to shoot the film. Then again, they might be really uptight about auditioning in front of a serial killer. But, if an actor can’t risk being raped or murdered for their craft, they can’t be too serious anyway.

Two more actors audition and leave and we sit back and start discussing how one sucked and we’re laughing and joking around. What we forgot was that my wife had opened the window and those two actors could hear everything we were saying. Oh well, I always did feel that casting people should give honest feedback to actors. I’ve been to many auditions myself and at pretty much every one of them you get, “that was great”, or “we’ll definitely be in touch”. Yea right. How would they know that before seeing the next 50 actors on the list for the role I was going for?

Then there was the actor who shows up and doesn’t want to shake hands because she has poison oak. The other actor playing next to her wasn’t too relaxed either when she leaned on her in the scene.

Now, we’ve been auditioning women all day for two female roles. All the guys cancelled or didn’t show for the one male role. What’s up with that? Well, finally one guy shows. He doesn’t even have lines. All he has to do is drop a box full of stuff and act annoyed. Well this particular guy was great. So he leaves and Nancy decides she’s really leaning toward him for the part. Some actors just nail it.

The phone rings. My 10 year old, Chris, answers it upstairs, “Hello.”

“Oh, hi. I’m calling about an audition? Is this the right place?”

He yells down to us, ‘Dad! Someone calling for an audition!”

I pick up the line, “Hello”

“Hi, my name is Molly Ringwood and I was scheduled for an audition at 1:30? Can you tell me if this is an office or residence, because MapQuest says it’s an apartment.”

“I didn’t know MapQuest had that information.”

“It’s just that, if it’s a residence I really can’t come. I don't attend auditions at residences because I am alone out here and no one would know if I went missing. I apologize for the late notice.”

“OK. One less body to burry in the cellar I guess. At least now you have less competition out there. I often wonder why apartments with nosey neighbors in upscale neighborhoods are more dangerous than a tucked away backroom rented out hole in an old Hollywood high rise. I guess you're a victim of mass paranoia. Anyway, I jest. I understand. Well, not completely. “

I continue, “However, we will have callbacks probably in April at a downtown location. We just have to find the right tucked away backroom office. So, you're welcome to visit us again at that time, at your own risk of course.”

She forces a slight laugh, “Well, ok then. Good luck with your project.”

Actors.

I walk over to Nancy and tell her, “Scratch off Molly for the 1:30.”

“I already scratched her at 2 o’clock, 15 minutes ago. What was her excuse?”

I give her a blank stare.

She goes back to trying out some new dialog with the headshot paper dolls.

As Clint Eastwood would say, ‘Enough of that horseshit.”

The Form versus Function Debate

I often get into discussions, mostly on the Internet message boards, about what a screenwriter’s motivation is, or should be. Ultimately this boils down to two opposing camps of reasoning. One says the writer is an artist, must strive for great quality, must move the audience, must make a profound mark with their work. The other camp says fuck all that artsy bullshit; the writer is a business person who must watch the market trends, foresee them, target specific genres, target specific production companies, give them what they want and what will sell.

I’m always on the artsy side. But, if you must look at it from a business perspective then look at the whole picture.

There are at least around 40,000 screenplays submitted to Hollywood production companies every year. Hollywood actually produces about 400 films a year. That means they shelve or trash 39,600 screenplays submitted to them every year. In this business model your chances of having your screenplay sold are 1 in 400. That’s a 0.25% chance. Not 25 percent, zero point two five percent; one quarter of one percent. Well at least they’re better odds than the lottery.

You can always improve your chances by targeting a production company with a story in the genre and style they like to produce; but, then so can your competitors. Where will all this lead?

Even if you make a sale in a targeted market, what does that get you? Let’s list some targeted markets:

  1. Horrors. No. Cheap horrors.
  2. Romantic Comedies
  3. Spy Thrillers
  4. Kids film, Disney stuff
  5. Animations
  6. Buddy films
  7. Girl buddy films
  8. Girl buddy films with roles for 18 to 30 year olds
  9. Dark girl buddy films with roles for 18 to 30 year olds
  10. Dark girl buddy films with roles for 18 to 30 year olds incorporating horseback riding.

OK. The list can go on and on. There are as many categories of what production companies are looking for as there are production companies. Not only that, but these companies keep changing what they want all the time and a writer never knows until they advertise for it. When they do advertise, do you think they’ll wait for a few months to see if some writers come up with what they want? Fuck no. These are arrogant Hollywood producer pricks. Well, some of them are very nice (just in case I need to sell one of them someday). But, they want their script now, the day they post for them. That means you have to have your dark girl buddy script with roles for 18 to 30 year olds incorporating horseback riding ready to go at any moment. That’s the reality of the business of selling screenplays, at least as far as I know, not ever having sold one yet.

Now, there are other approaches to selling or getting a screenplay produced, thank God.

I am a produced screenwriter. I didn’t sell my work to anyone. I didn’t target any market or production company. I did have a stable of scripts on my shelf gathering dust that were ready to go when the call came in for that dark girl buddy thing. But, I never sold any of those. So, what is this other approach, from the artist camp?

Actually there are numerous approaches here. In summation, it’s whatever works. It depends on your talent and resources. What I did was produce and direct my own screenplay. It’s just a short submitted to festivals and has yet to be seen anywhere except to friends and festival screeners. But, that’s equally true about scripts produced in the business camp. Only 0.25% of Hollywood scripts get produced, remember? There’s no telling how many indie scripts get produced. But, I’d bet the ratio is much higher. People in the indie world tend to write and direct their own work. So, they see it through production. Well, not always. A lot of them fizzle out due to the filmmakers realizing they don’t have the stamina, talent or resources to see a production through, not only shooting but editing and distribution (to festivals anyway) as well.

But, you have better chances of writing the story you want to write and getting it produced in the indie market. Why? Aside from the obvious as explained so far, you’d be writing on your own terms as an artist, not as a prospective studio newbie. Writing on your own terms means writing what you know you’re good at and want to write about. It means disregard for tempering the story for ratings or genre or what ever some studio producer is looking for. If you can come up with a good compelling story all you need next is to produce it or find an indie producer to do it.

Well you might be thinking that’s just as intimidating as going the business route. Well, maybe. But, look at the risk reward ratio. As a business person you do that, right? In the ‘please the production company’ camp, your reward is possibly an option. That means they buy your script cheap for a year or two and shelve it while they see if they can get a production together. There’s a great likelihood if you get that far with them, they’ll want some rewrites, maybe for free. They’ll also want some other writers to fuck it over good.

Since, it’s very likely you’re dealing with a cheapo fly by night outfit; you’re not looking at making big bucks here. Well, maybe your reward there is a film deal. They produce your script. It actually happens sometimes (1 out of 400 annually). Then what? You have your cheapo horror or girl buddy thing on Blockbuster’s shelves. Well, maybe just the video guy’s store down on the corner. What’s that got you? I guess you’re listed in IMDB now. Nothing too profound, but a listing at least. Of course, getting your indie into a festival puts you there too.

But, statistics lie. You knew that, right. 1 out of 400 isn’t your odds, because of those 300 to 400 produced only about 5 or 10 are from newbie spec unproduced writers. But it gets worse. There are 45,000 to 65,000 screenplays written every year and each one is up for a shot. So, your one screenplay has to compete with all of those. The odds aren’t too good. But, a lot of those are crap. If you know how to stand out from the rest, you could maybe get a 1 in 100 shot. Not bad. But compare that with producing your own film, which is a sure thing, provided you see it through. But that’s another story.

Compelling and Original Work

Even if you make your film, before you start you need a compelling story or script. In the festivals, again, you’re competing with thousands of other entrants. So, you have to prove your stuff is way above the rest.

What is compelling and original work? Compelling means keeping their interest. The script is a page turner. The film is something you can’t take your eyes off of. Without being compelling the audience gets bored.

Original means it hasn’t been done before. Well that’s almost impossible. But, at least there should be something basic in the story or structure that is original. Without being original the audience is disappointed.

Business people have the logic that the tried and successful things that worked in the past markets can work again. To them changing up a few elements and reworking the story is a good safe investment. So, we have the many sequels and trilogies and mini-series. But, if you’ve ever seen sequels you’ll know that they are almost always a disappointment from the first work. That’s because in the first work the story was told and ended. The sequel continues this already ended story, so we already know where it’s going and there’s little chance of anything surprising, compelling, or original.

I suppose there are exceptions like the Star Wars episodes or the Harry Potter series. But, these works were originally written as series by the writers. They weren’t contrived by studio executives and producers looking to make a new investment. They are stories that span the series; not clones of the first episode.

Some will tell you that statistics show that family oriented films make the most money and have the largest market. That’s true. But, so what? If that’s not your market and what you’re best at writing then it’s a mistake to write for it. Remember 399 out of 400 writers fail to sell their script. A lot of them play the odds of the markets too. Even at 1 to 100 what are your chances, unless you’re way above the rest?

All these things, markets, genre, producer expectations, business logic; these are all very secondary to a true work of art. They are limitations that hinder free creativity. They squelch creativity. Some will say the movie business is a business, not art.

Hey, it’s a business of selling art. So, the art must first exist before it can be sold. After you create the art, use all the business and marketing you want. But using the business logic to restrict and impose upon artists is a moral crime; it’s the cart before the horse, bass ackwards.

I like to look at filmmaking as an art first. This is how is see it from an artist’s view.

The hard core facts about making movies are that limitations are not imposed by producers or some nebulous Hollywood mindset. They are imposed only by the choice of tools used by the filmmaker. You may argue. Producers pay the bills, so you have to please them. Bullshit. If you can come up with something original and compelling, producers will flock to your door regardless of structure. It's a compelling and original script that sells, not whether it meets conventional structure. Of course, after they buy it, they’ll likely want to change it, rewrite it, bring in a veteran writer, and if you’re not careful about retaining credit or rights in your contract, you’re left with very little. But, at that point, yea, you have to please the producer. I just have a problem trying to please some yet to be seen producer before you ever even get a nibble. Get the nibble first, then sellout. That’s not really selling out. That’s just compromising.

The business minded, non-artist, writers are hell bent on writing in the confines of conventional structure, because they feel conformity and convention is the only way to fit into the business model. For them, they have self-imposed this array of restrictions some call rules, which in fact only exist in their heads. They may even become expert at it and come up with some original work. But, their originality is severely limited. If only they would let go of the self imposed restrictions they could reach greater heights. We can never know what heights can be reached because these conventions and restrictions have been so ubiquitous that there are very few who have gone beyond them.

Of those that have, their work is so different that the conventional Neanderthal-like minds have to label and categorize them into some safe far away place, perhaps called experimental, abstract, or expressionist. Then these works are judged by the public before ever being seen. Some of this is justified because a lot of these works are crazy, a lot suck. But, because people are so averted to letting loose of the conventional structures they never expand into these areas and the full potential there is never realized. It may never yet have been realized because real writers are afraid to try it.

David Lynch, director of Mulholland Dr., Blue Velvet, Dune, Eraserhead, and recently, Inland Empire, is one exception who has done it. He has realized a potential beyond convention successfully. He created film as art, even abstract art. But, he is one where there could be hundreds. He started as an abstract artist out of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Arts. He won an AFI grant to do his first film that launched his Hollywood career. He never worried about conventions or business as far as I know. Though, I’m sure after he had made his mark and already was a Hollywood player, he did take it into consideration. After all, as strange and unconventional as Mulholland Dr. and his other features are, they’re way more conventional than the stuff that won him a grant from AFI.

There are others, more conventional, but who also break lots of conventions successfully. Francis Ford Coppola did it with The Godfather, and Apocalypse Now; Sofia Coppola with Lost in Translation, Bertolucci with The Conformist, and recently The Dreamers. There are others like Richard Linklatter with Before Sunrise and Before Sunset, two films with two characters who do pretty much nothing through the whole film but have a conversation, and yet it is very compelling. These films relied more on visuals, characters, and cinematic elements than they did on story or structure, especially conventional structure.

Well I think so, anyway.

Classical Music Paradigm

Consider classic music as an art. Consider that movies are also an art, like classical music. It’s hard to argue against this. Both are art and businesses at the same time. But again, the art must be created before it can be sold.

Why has classical music survived over the centuries? What is it about music that makes it work so well? There’s nothing that has the same effect as music does. Well, maybe art like painting or sculpture. But, filling the sense of hearing with music is unparalleled in painting and sculpture. Music gets your full attention. You can stop everything, close your eyes and listen to music. It can move you, inspire, sooth you, make you cry, make you happy, make you dance. But, music can also be listened to while doing other things and it magically makes doing those things a lot more fun.

Now, film too has this potential. Movies make people cry, make them happy, inspire them, and scare them. Film has even more potential because it already incorporates music. It takes advantage of the power of music and adds image. Although, music in film has to be more low key and in the background to not detract from the image or story.

Film is severely limited due to the expense involved. You can’t sit down at the piano and create a film. You need at least a camera, but also sound equipment, lights, experts to run them, actors, and editors. So, it becomes an investment which means a business venture which means business people will want to minimize their risk. So, they impose upon filmmakers to create, using some conventional business wisdom. That is wrong. Film can never reach the heights that music has under this system.

A lot of indie filmmakers know this and do experiment with structure to try creative things. With new technologies they can approach the music model of sitting at the piano. They can get a good camera with sound and do it all with almost studio quality.

Indie filmmakers can even get professional actors and professional writers to help them out for free or way below the standard rates, with some contractual stipulations. The unions even have contracts for this purpose, so long as they are nonprofit and very low budget, like you’ll see in film festivals.

So, indie films are the real future and present in the art of making movies. Indie filmmakers can experiment. They can create some classics.

It’s true there are already some classic films in existence made through the business model. But they are few among the very many. Today the music business proliferates with many successful works in many categories. But, filmmakers haven’t reached this height yet.

Think about the music charts. There are hit charts, country charts, and other genres. A hit chart has 50 to 100 hits songs that will have a good cycle of a few months, even a year. Films have the top ten at the week’s box office. A few weeks in and these films disappear to the DVD shelves. The film business could have the 100 hit list. But, they first have to make films that don’t suck. They have to make hits. They have to allow artists to create before the business people move in to market the work. Somehow, movie business people can’t or won’t see this fact.

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