Unsurprisingly, most of the fascination around the 72 Hour Movie project ‘The Ballad of Des & Mo’ surrounds the process of filming and editing it so quickly, especially in relation to the projects that can take months. In this post, I’m going to focus on how we turned it around in such a short time. I wrote a post for Ted a while back titled ‘The Shape of Things’ that explored the organisational structure of the 72, so I won’t repeat that here. Instead I’ll concentrate upon the necessary elements that must be present in order for the process to work alongside the organisational structure.

The simple target is to maximise effectiveness from the effort. People assume that you would have to work hard to make a film in 72 hours, but that is not as valuable as being productive and efficient. In fact, it is the opposite! To be productive and efficient is to achieve a significant amount with a small amount of work. Efficiency is the ratio of the useful work performed by a process to the total energy expended. If it is hard work, something has gone wrong. Quite a few films have been shot in such a short timeframe and even less. Corman’s version of ‘The Little Shop of Horrors’, in which Jack Nicholson made an early appearance, was shot in two and a half days I believe. Shooting rapidly isn’t that hard or complex. It just requires thoughtful consideration to the effective organisation of a good cast and crew, good location management, good scheduling and good direction.

Good casting is critical. They must not only cope with pressure but also thrive upon it. They must be consistent with performance. They must have patience and calm. They need to be rehearsed but not so much to be inflexible. They must know their lines and be capable of nailing the performance in approximately three takes. Any more than three and we are losing too much time on set and sending too much data to the editors. I was incredibly fortunate that all of the actors in ‘The Ballad of Des & Mo’ were extremely competent and unflappable, despite the huge pressure. This sounds like a staple requirement of an actor, but in reality not all are happy to be put under such stress.

The crew must have similar characteristics, buoyed by an enthusiasm and energy for the project. As a director I believe I encouraged this through leading by example. It was more ‘do as I do, not do as I say’ – the opposite of traditional direction. If a tripod needs carrying, I can do it. People criticise this approach by saying that ‘if you are carrying the tripod you are not directing the film’. This is rubbish. Carrying the tripod is directing the film. It is moving it where you want it to be. If you are still making creative decisions on the set of your movie, to the extent that you can’t carry a tripod, you are an ass. Something has gone horribly wrong.

I believe that good direction is good planning. Know where you want to put the camera. Know how scenes will cut together. Know the pace of the action and make sure you are getting it on set, regardless of how fast you are filming. The temptation with video is to shoot lots of coverage, but I believe this is lazy ‘dump-truck’ directing. Shoot what you need and move on, otherwise there are ramifications throughout the process. Shooting too much means time transferring it, cost to store it, time sifting through and editing it.

Good scheduling is essential. For every hour that we filmed, approximately two minutes would have to be used in the final cut of the movie. Our first day of filming remained in one location and we shot through just over a third of the movie, accounting for the slow start as we gelled as a team. The second day we had many more location changes but split into two units for a couple of hours and filmed sections of the script where the protagonists weren’t on screen together. The third day we fell behind early on, but the adrenaline and momentum of being so close to the finish line carried us forward.

All the way through this we were transferring files on location from the 16GB RED cards in regular data dumps, not dissimilar to the process of changing the film magazine. Occasionally we’d resort to using the RED drives instead, but we were wary of bottlenecking the data to the edit and paranoid about dropping frames. These were then couriered as quickly as possible to our edit team, who were located centrally in Melbourne. They would transcode the footage and send low-resolution versions for the editors to picture cut. They would communicate back to location that the footage had been ingested and in circulation that meant we could start to recycle the cards on set. Once the editors were done, they’d send the sequence back and it would be conformed at full resolution, along with a stereo sound mix that was being cut independently. This convoluted process requires a blog in itself, but that would have to be authored by Mike Fisher, our genius workflow manager courtesy of Sequence Post in London.

Ironically, the biggest problem throughout the process was dumping the film back to tape in order to be screened in the Australian Centre for Moving Image. The whole 72 Hour Movie project hinges upon the benefits of tapeless workflow, it simply couldn’t work if we had to digitise in real-time. Yet in order to screen the film in a traditional setting we had to go back to the conventional safety of tape! A classic example of how the possibilities of digital filmmaking production don’t always marry nicely with the traditional processes of distribution or exhibition.

I have never advocated making features in 72 hours to be the way forward for filmmaking. I believe that our project serves as an example that we can think differently about the process of filmmaking instead of unquestionably adopting the same roles and protocols each time. We all have different motivators for making films, perhaps storytelling, art, business or fame. We should formally acknowledge the different approaches to filmmaking so that alternative processes can be legitimately recognised as valid and viable for production. Perhaps it is the current inability to recognise and reward innovative filmmaking that is leading audiences to believe that cinema is running out of ideas?

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

Civilization by Marco Brambilla from CRUSH on Vimeo.

On a number of occasions, people have said to me that the success of ‘The Ballad of Des & Mo’ at the Melbourne International Film Festival (MIFF) was the strength of the script. I am naturally flattered, because I wrote it, but I am also a little embarrassed, because I do not view it with the same reverence and respect as others seem to. I’m not saying that the success wasn’t due to the script, I am saying that the script was part of the process.

Honestly speaking, I would never waste a developed idea for a film upon the 72 Hour Movie project. I cherish some of my script ideas too much to use them in such a hurried production circumstance. So I deliberately wrote a script that would suit the purpose of making it in 72 hours, using the process as a catalyst for the script.

I started with 40 cells in a Microsoft Word document. These cells would roughly translate to two-minute scenes of screen time, so an 80-minute film. I sat in a cafe with my assistant Irune Gurtubai and filled each cell out, not necessarily in consequential order. The only rule was that each cell should have a significant plot point that carried the story forward. From there, we sat for two hours and drank copious amounts of coffee until we had filled it out. That was the structure of the script. I then spent three weeks writing the actual scenes and dialogue, sticking as close to the structure as possible. It ended up being 46 scenes, which is deliberately one third less than ‘Watching & Waiting’, the film we shot in Galway. I decided to have longer scenes with more dialogue because the RED camera having interchangeable lenses would be a slower set-up than the fixed lenses of the Panasonic HPX500 that we used upon ‘Watching & Waiting’.

The first draft was then sent to a series of different script editors of varying experience for them to compile notes and return them to me. These editors were recruited through a variety of sources; previous colleagues, loved ones, friends and Facebook followers. They were spread worldwide – Finland, U.S.A., Australia, Germany, Ireland and England, which ensured the script would be universal. This municipal process also acted as an accelerant to my script editing, which can usually take far too long between drafts. Taking the notes into consideration, I would rework the script until I was happy with it; five drafts. My first film Peppermint had fifteen drafts!

It was the fifth draft that I sent Kate O’Toole after I had approached her informally through Facebook. I noticed that she was following us in our group so messaged her and she asked to see the script. We went through one more draft, where the character motivations and necessities were tightened up, and this became our shooting script. The shooting script was then amended in rehearsal if the actors offered ideas to strengthen their characterisation. I would act as a sounding board and was by no means precious. So when people commend the script, they are really commending the work of around ten people. This is not script writing by committee, as I wrote it all, but it was the functional product of a methodical process, created in direct relation to the process of filming it in 72 hours.

I have written scripts before and I have studied scriptwriting in two university modules at undergraduate and postgraduate level. I think I may be good at it, but I genuinely believe that we delivered ‘The Ballad of Des & Mo’ along very formulaic lines. It is a generic romantic comedy, but an audience still love stories that are told well, regardless of their genre. I wrote it faster than any other script I have ever written and I did fewer drafts than normal. I believe that the script followed the ideals of necessity and dilemma very closely, and that meant that it connected well with audiences.

The story follows a middle-aged Irish couple that arrive in Melbourne on their second honeymoon, yet their luggage doesn’t arrive with them. The premise meant the characters losing their luggage in the first scene removed the problems of wardrobe changes. Their flight from Ireland to Australia meant the two protagonists could look tired and bedraggled as part of their jetlag (regardless of whether it was a result of shooting a feature in 72 hours). This premise also considers the demographic of the MIFF audience. Whilst there is a great deal of younger people who would’ve been interested in our process, we wanted to have a story that identified with the festival audience. I find it a little strange that studios are so fixated with the 15-30 demographic when they are the exact audiences that are most likely to pirate material and most likely to be out drinking or partying instead of watching movies. I thought of my parents – they have no idea how to pirate, they wouldn’t agree with it ethically and they hate going out to bars because the noise is too loud and they are filled with pissed kids. Have we explored all audiences fully? Are we blind to the potential of other audiences because we are so fixated with the system the way it is now?

Whilst the script was critical in securing our star, Kate O’Toole, it was the process that had particular impact. She’d joke that actors get paid big money for the inconvenience of sitting around and being bored. But in all seriousness, if you are an actor, isn’t there an appeal in spending a high ratio of time on-set actually acting instead of waiting around?! Organising a shoot to be faster means it can be cheaper for producers and more rewarding for actors, but it requires the maximisation of effectiveness from the effort inputted, something I’ll explore further tomorrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do as much production through freeware as possible.

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

Make a quality film.

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

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

Exploit the project more than before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cool is a committed style.  Cool is a discipline.  Cool embraces both content and all the elements of execution.  In a cool movie, everything other than cool is truly secondary, and ideally non-existent.  Cool movies thrive on an existential protagonist.  Cool is about the sustain and not the flash.

What are the cool American films of relatively recent vintage?

• The American
• The Limey
• Stranger Than Paradise
• Out Of Sight
• Jackie Brown

This list is far from complete.  What have I forgotten?  Yet, the real question is “why are there so few truly cool films?”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It seems to me that most are still in step one: denial.  I wrote my “38 Ways The Film Business Is Failing” post from what I felt was a place of acceptance (K-R Stage 5).  We should be ready to move on now.  Each of my 38, and the 37 I posted the year earlier, are ironclad truths in my view .  Seriously, though, each of the combined 75 statements are wake up calls, pleas to move on and find solutions.  Can’t we just hurdle over the middle three and land on the final one?

If we accept acceptance and wake up to the world we are living in, what is our next step?

Let me clarify some of my feelings about the PMD. I will add my universal caveat that every film and situation is different. But here are some important guidelines:

1. The best case scenario is that a PMD is on board as a full collaborator and worker from as close to inception of the film as possible – no later than beginning of prep. This allows for, what I feel, the optimum of the integration of audience connection and engagement (which is what distribution and marketing is at its essence). If you wait till you have finished your film – you are in a world of hurt (I’ve said that before, but I don’t think I can say it enough) because this connection building and engagement take time and effort and cannot be hurried.

2. The best marketing is as creative as traditional filmmaking now – and frankly the line is blurred between what is the “film” and what is marketing. This is a de facto state of things since the rise of transmedia. If anyone just wants to make a traditional feature these days – that is great,– I am not going to tell anyone what his or her creative output should or should not be, but I am only pointing out that there is a tremendous amount of creative potential that focusing only on feature films ignores. I feel as a film community we should embrace it – and many filmmakers are. It is tremendously exciting. Look at what Lance Weiler is doing. I was fortunate enough to be at the Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh yesterday – and many things struck me (more blog posts coming on this subject) – but he was one of the first transmedia artists – we can learn a lot from him about what it means to be a creative person AND what it means to connect with audience. (And Sheri Candler – yes he was an incredible leader of a tribe – another post on that coming too). I know for many of you this is old news – but I still feel there is a battle being waged about this – one that is a waste of time in my opinion.

3. As a result, the PMD is not just a social marketer, a dealmaker, a festival publicist, a line producer, a distributor, a publicist – he or she needs to understand all aspects of the marketing and distribution of a film and conceptualize, develop and oversee its execution over the full life of a film. To do all of the above is a tremendous amount of work – akin to being the sole producer of a film in a crew of 3 (and at times this will happen – just as micro budget films have been produced in this way). But I do advise that there be a distribution and marketing team (I took a whole chapter of TOTBO to outline this crew and even that should be supplemented now (another blog post later). The PMD is the one who oversees all of the pieces (but as in the case of all who work on indie films – they will be working full time and busting their butt in the trenches like everyone else – because there is never enough money to hire as many people as anyone would ever like).

4. Just as people cut their teeth in indie film by taking on smaller tasks and working their way up – so it will be with PMDs. Electrics become gaffers become DPs. Social media assistants become social media strategists become PMDs. (as an example) While people work up the ladder – if they want to be the top creative in the department – they will learn ALL aspects of that department on their way up. It is an intense learning curve – but people who want it – do it.

5. When people cut their teeth in indie film – they usually work for free or for little money to have a chance to prove themselves. Money, work, and credit are always negotiated in independent film. I don’t see that changing with the PMD. Film has always been an apprenticeship system. Even with film schools (and PMD training is on its way – more future blog posts) – most film students discover that they still need to apprentice out of school. This is not just true for film – but for all arts not only in the US now – but throughout the world and throughout time.

6. An alternative to this is a group of filmmakers who band together as a team – all chipping in resources and skills – to make a film. They usually divide up responsibilities and credits. But each member of the team has his or her own sweat equity skin in the game. This is where you have new producers, directors, DPs born who have not worked through the apprentice system. But they take the risk on a project and prove themselves.

7. The last alternative (which usually involves apprenticeship as well) is to get a lower level paid gig in an established, commercially based company (e.g. a publicity firm, social media establishment, transmedia commercial company etc) and get paid for doing lower level work on commercial projects. Often people do this and learn all the ropes, change jobs to learn a different skill (again paid for commercial work) until they have enough skills to strike out on their own.

8. All of the above goes to say that I feel that if you want to be a PMD in the indie world – it will be difficult to ask to be paid without a track record. Like all other people in the indie world – you need to pay your dues – work on films – build a reputation, resume, reel – to show what you are worth. Most people in indie film – especially when they are starting out – have multiple jobs and find multiple ways to make a living.

9. If you are in film – especially indie film – to make money – I suggest finding another career. There are many other ways to make money more simply. Chances are you’ll make more money per hour at McDonalds than from working on any indie film. The world of film and media are for people who love film and media and cannot live without it. It is a tough life except for a very few. (Again from Warhol: “Life is very hard”).

10. The people whom I have met who want to be PMDs around the world – have a love of film – but feel that they have a set of skills more geared toward marketing than actual production – and are excited by having a way to work in the field they love (film and media) and use their special talents. They are not doing it primarily for money. They are doing it because everything else besides film is unsatisfying – and while they do need to find a way to make a living – they need to be involved with film.

11. The hope is of course – with everyone in independent film – is to find a way to do what you love and sustain yourself. There are many, many ways that people find to do this. It is of course tougher than ever now – especially as we are in this transitional period. I don’t feel I have all the answers – but I am excited by what the future holds, by having discussions with passionate people who care about our world and I feel together we will all find a way to make this work. I don’t feel that we as filmmakers are alone in this. All media content creators and artists are facing the same conundrum – musicians, journalists, authors, artists, photo journalists, graphic artists, game designers (massive layoffs in Australia in the months prior to my visit). We are all facing the same challenges and I feel that we can all learn from each other.

Let me know your thoughts at @Jon_Reiss on twitter or facebook.com/ThinkOutsidetheBoxOffice

by Jon Reiss

But here they are, 1922, and then how long did it take to make color films the standard?  Sure everything happens sooner these days, but change sure takes awhile, even when the tools already exist.

Back twenty years ago, I was hired several times to write business plans for indie films.  I included a paragraph for the anticipated windfall of profits from VOD.  I see a version in many a plan that I stumble across in the present day.  We can dream, but I don’t think $100K is exactly the windfall I was fantasizing about back in the day….

What does it say about our culture, about what people want to see?  What does it say about the mainstream industry and what they will buy or promote?

Top Grossing Independent Films of the 2000s

1. The Passion of the Christ, 2004 (Newmarket)  $370,274,604
2. My Big Fat Greek Wedding, 2003 (IFC Films)  $241,438,208
3. Juno, 2007 (Fox Searchlight)  $143,395,265
4. Slumdog Millionaire, 2008 (Fox Searchlight)  $141,319,928
5. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, 2000 (Sony Pictures Classics) $128,078,872
6. Traffic, 2000 (USA) $124,115,725
7. Fahrenheit 9/11, 2004 (Lionsgate) $119,194,771
8. Paranormal Activity, 2009 (Paramount)  $107,753,000
9. Brokeback Mountain, 2005 (Focus Features)  $83,043,761
10. March of the Penguins, 2005 (Warner Independent) $77,437,223
11. Coraline, 2009 (Focus Features)  $75,286,229
12. Sideways, 2004 (Fox Searchlight)  $71,503,593
13. Burn After Reading, 2008 (Focus Features)  $60,355,347
14. Little Miss Sunshine, 2006 (Fox Searchlight)  $59,891,098
15. Hero, 2004 (Miramax) $53,710,019
16. Atonement, 2007 (Focus Features) $50,927,067
17. 28 Days Later, 2003 (Fox Searchlight)  $45,064,915
18. Lost In Translation, 2003 (Focus Features)  $44,585,453
19. Napoleon Dynamite, 2004 (Fox Searchlight)  $44,540,956
20. Precious: Based on the novel ‘Push’ by Sapphire, 2009 (Lionsgate)  $42,004,270

"Boltie" & "The Crimson Bolt" manufacture mayhem.

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The industry’s holy grail is often seen as the title that gives you a clear idea of both the tone and content or concept of the film (The Forty Year Old Virgin).  Some subjects demand to be put in the title (weddings, food, chocolate, blood) because they are the things that audiences love most.  Life’s big subjects get more than their fair share of attention (death, sex, love, power).

Sometimes though it seems as if who’s ever picking the titles deliberately tries to confuse, selecting something that runs pretty close to a suitable title for a much different genre (i.e. porn).  There are those titles that are trying to fit in (to the marketplace) and those that wave their flag to claim how distinct (in the marketplace) they are.

Marketplaces mature and audiences grow more sophisticated.  Netflix has said that the longer a subscriber belongs to their service, the more their taste gravitates to the auteurs.  It should be no surprise then that new platforms, with their new audiences, often start repeating prior platforms’ formulas.  It’s been said that in the heyday of VHS anything with a sex or violence title or image on the box would sell.  Sure enough, I’ve been told it is similar on VOD titles: sex, drugs, and local crime are the top forms, beaten only by those with the letter “A”.

Yet sitting around with buds and beer often seem to net a bumper crop for next year’s slate:

The Balls

Coprolalia

Children, Kill Your Parents

Death By Chocolate

Eat It

Hell: The Movie

Incorrigible Meddlers

I’m With Stupid

Intestines, My Love!

The Incredibly Strange Rituals Of The Undead Leather Witches From Hell

The Masseuse

My Boss Is A Fool

Teenage Scarface

Wham! Bam! Pow!

Work Sucks. Let’s Party!

#!&*@! (The Unspeakable)

Maybe if we brainstorm and put all the insane titles out there, we can kill the movies before they get made.  And then instead, we can turn our attention to the content first — which is how I have always approached it, for better or for worst.  It takes me back to that David Puttnam line that Carl Bressler FB’d to me the other day, and I retweeted yesterday: “”Answer this: Am I in it for the story or the money? Your honest response will determine your entire trajectory in show business”.