THE MANIFESTO, OR HOW GARETH EDWARDS CHANGED EVERYTHING

So, what's going on with SEX ED?

Well, look left and there she is. She lies in a glass box. Unconscious Barely breathing. Sleeping away. Waiting for her prince to come and give her the kiss of life while seven dwarfs kneel and pray and hope and waste away.

I could also say it’s with a smallish production company who may or may not be doing any work on its behalf. But I prefer the first description. (They are crafty, like dwarfs… But I digress…)

So I’ve been trying to figure out my next move. I learned a lot of valuable lessons from SEX ED. Especially as a producer.

For one, I got great value for what I spent. But if I only filmed a few minutes more, I could have had a neat little feature film. Which would have been better, because as it is, SEX ED is one odd duck.

Even though we got a lot of recognition from the web, it’s not a web series.

It’s a spec pilot - or pilot presentation - that no one seems to know what to do with. Not even me.

The development and TV execs are like, “this is great. What do you need us for?” And they pass.

And the agents are like, “this is great. Let’s find someone to partner you with." And then they get laughed at by their douchebag peers and never call back.

It’s not the greatest pilot in the world. I know that. It’s good. Not great. But good-ish. Good-ly. And I’m thrilled beyond belief that it is. But it could have been better. More time in the editing bay. A more consistent tone. I had thought I would have the best of both worlds between web and TV. I did. For a time. If I had written a feature film that could have served as a back door pilot then it would have had more legs. I should have thought farther.

But people keep coming to the site (click HERE). Thousands each day. Our best day we had 12,000 hits. And I’m not doing a damn thing. Good sign. Thank you.

So what’s next?

I tried to get an agent or manager. And what’s really odd: people don't see me as a producer, just another pasty-faced writer who’s ready to do anything to get a gig. So I’m kind of back to square one for writers: build a portfolio and get ready to eat shit.

I’ve been building a portfolio. I got a TV spec. I got some rom-coms. My new thing is horror. I got one of those. A horror-com, DEVILS CATCH, that I wrote my last draft of. Good enough for me to want to make. But I wrote it big. It needs special effects. CGI. Not a lot. But enough that me, as the potential producer, would be dependent on some company that knows how screwed I am without their services. Unless I find some hungry USC or UCLA genius to do it for nothing, it can’t be done indie-style.

So it goes in the portfolio.

The new script is going very well. It’s done in the found footage style. Yes, it’s one of those. But I think I got a cool take that doesn’t rely on night vision or shaky cam. It’s certainly original. It’s never been done before.

So that means it’s worth making.

And making it cheaply.

It would still rely on finding a buyer, of finding that elusive prince to awaken Sleeping Beauty and pimp her out to the world.

But it wouldn’t be as odd a duck as making my own TV pilot.


KILL THE FILM SCHOOL MENTALITY

SEX ED was done indie style, but it was also done in pretty much the Hollywood standard way: union actors, honey wagons, two ton electric trucks, camera operators, grips, video villages, generators... did I mention honeywagons? It was impressive to see this circus train of trucks pull up each day. We got deals. A Panavision camera. Two of them. For free. Yay! We spent on overtime and we went over budget by thirty percent.

But that’s the Hollywood way, according to the Film School Mentality.

When I say the Film School Mentality, I’m talking about this… Bear with me…. I volunteered once to be a PA on this very small, scrappy shoot. I wanted to see what it was like to actually do something on a set. I was one of three PAs. I had fun. Make no mistake, PA work is slave labor. But it was fun. I was boom one minute, garbage collection the next. I held up reflectors, hung up lights. What was cool was I was part of the team. I got up, was ready to work and I kept on working.

But what got to me, eventually, was all the stopping. You know, on film sets it’s always hurry up and wait. Hurry up and wait. Most of the time it’s waiting for an actor or makeup or lights. But some of the times it’s waiting for the Director to get a neck massage because he has a little headache. That kind of stopping offends me. But hey, that’s the norm. Right?

But the final straw was this: We were shooting indoors. Air conditioning was on. We were about to start a shot when the director realized we needed the air conditioning off. The director shouts, “SOMEONE TURN THE AIR CONDITIONING OFF.” My hands are full. I can’t move. I look to the other PAs. They have their hands full. They can’t move. We look at each other and we all realize this at the same time - the Director is standing right next to the air conditioner! If the Director just extended his arm to the right, he could have shut off the air conditioning himself!!! It was right there! Next to him! He had nothing in his hands except his hips. But there he was, waiting for someone else - some peon - to do it for him. Why?

Because that‘s what film schools teach you.

They teach you how to delegate.

And as far as individual duties go, you are locked into your own little department and are taught never to move beyond it.

So that’s how the SEX ED production moved along. All of us following this Film School Mentality. With commands from above delegated to the troops below. We didn’t have shot lists, so often the troops didn’t know the game plan. There was grumbling. But it moved pretty well for an indie shoot.

Post production moved much more efficiently because I was relying on freelance artists who had their own programs (ProTools, FinalCut, Apple Color, etc). These people worked form their houses or garages who actually were passionate about the project, and not their paycheck or specific duties. They moved above and beyond their departments, which is something Film School Mentality does not encourage you to do.

It was incredibly satisfying because of the freedom technology gave us. It’s an Apple world, folks. I moved swiftly, with options, quickly and affordably.

Why would anyone pay for a post house, charging you thousands per hour, when you can find a hungry talented artist who actually likes you and your work? Who has his own equipment? Post is so streamlined and affordable. For a few grand, you can own your own post studio.

Lesson: Don't fall into the trap of specializing in one field. If you want to be independent, don't imitate the big-budget methods of filmmaking. Find new ways of getting your film done. Because the film schools are only teaching you how to do it the big budget way.


CHANGING EVERYTHING

So if nowadays post is within consumer reach, where does that leave the big costs in making your own film?

That’s right.

Production.

And as an indie filmmaker must do everything he can do reduce and eliminate fat from production.

This must be your mantra.

That’s where MONSTERS comes in.


LOSE THE CREW

In the 90s we had Kevin Smith and Spike Lee to inspire thousands on filmmakers to make their own films.

Right now, we have Gareth Edwards, writer-creator-filmmaker of the fine sci-fi film MONSTERS.




Now, you’re not going to be blown away by this film. It’s talky, insightful, romantic, seldom scary but very realistic. Sort of like IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT with DISTRICT 9. It’s a very specific story, done in a specific style - the handheld realistic- doc style. But check out his crew:

1 director-Cameraman
1 Line producer
1 Sound recordist
1 scout locator
2 editors who stayed in the hotel to manage the digital workflow
2 actors - no makeup, no costume, no honeywagons

On SEX ED we employed about 70 people. I couldn’t have had the same results if I had done it with a crew of six.

Or could I have had something just as good?

It certainly would have been cheaper. More intimate. More flexible. I would have had more footage. The film would have less an old fashioned, standard feel and more of a modern, improvisatory feel. Which is more relevant today? Was my thinking analog instead of digital? Was I trapped in that Film School Method, of “this is the way it’s done” instead of figuring out a new more personal way of telling my story?

MONSTERS has really set a new bar for indie maverick filmmaking. You don’t need honey wagons. You don’t need electric trucks. You don’t need people standing around, with their hands in their pockets, cashing in their overtime checks while the Director is getting a neck massage.

By trimming the crew, you suddenly don’t have to delegate anything. You just do it.

You don’t need to waste any more money.

If you have a story, and you can tell it handheld style, and - most important - if you know what you’re doing in terms of acting, camera and editing - you don’t have to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on the pros who offer you just one limited field of experience. You rally well-rounded individuals who are multi-talented, multi-faceted, and ready to multi-task. You will move faster, cheaper, and more efficiently if - and it’s a big if - there is a visionary in command who not only talks the talk but walks the walk.

There’s been big debate how much MONSTERS really cost - $15,000 to under $500,000. Pretty big number difference. $15K seems low, considering hotel and air fare to Mexico for six crew plus two actors. Plus travel money. Plus bribes. $100K seems right, but that’s my guess.

But even if it was $500K (which I doubt - SKYLINE was filmed for that amount, with a much bigger cast; FX cost an additional $9.5 mil) it’s an amazingly low number for a film high on special effects and locations. These aren’t cheap effects either, like the kind of see on SyFy.

And the look of it: shot on a customized Sony PMW-EX3 with a Letus 35mm lens adapter that shot with Nikon consumer lenses.

So that means anyone with the know-how can walk into a Best Buy and walk out with a film package that will look just as good as MONSTERS did.

MONSTERS never shot on sticks. The camera was always moving, always flexible. In editing you are relying on a variety of choices made by the actors and cameraman. Often times, you don’t get that many because of time constraint on the set.

And what a glorious feeling not to have seventy people on set, waiting for instruction. It’s just the camera and the actors. The two producers stand aside, pitch in, help whenever they can. But no time is wasted on lights. No time is wasted on waiting. Time is in the filmmaker’s hands, where it should be in the first place!

And God bless the PAs. Talk about good soldiers! They will do anything for you. They put their trust in you. I’d rather pay a dozen PAs than a bunch of grips who could care less to be on your set.

(Beware of the paycheck employees, always with their eyes on the clock. In one hand they hold a sandwich, the other hand is in their pocket. The paycheck employee even grumbles about overtime, that‘s how less they could care about being there. You don’t need them. You never needed them. You let them knock tin. You don’t allow them in on a movie set. All a producer dreams about is arriving on a set where someone is smiling. You know, actually happy to be there. It never happens. But I digress. )



Lesson: By having the camera ever mobile, and by keeping the crew small and manageable and passionate, you suddenly have the luxury of options.

NOTE: This approach will mean more time in the editing room. But that’s okay. You’re editing in your own house. Not a rented studio. You’re in control of your own story.


LOSE THE LIGHT TRUCKS

On one of the production days on SEX ED we lost 3 hours because the electric truck arrived empty. They had driven the wrong truck to location! So as producer, what can you do to eliminate trucks?

RED cameras can shoot in available light - Look at THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE. This film was made using two 15 passenger vans - one for the cast and crew (which did not number over 13), the other for equipment and clothes. Two vans!

On SEX ED, we had five to six plus honeywagons for the actors to take a crap and nap in!

Now you don’t have to wait for an electric truck - and for the dozen of unfriendly, dispassionate people to unload it.

And if you do need lights, why rent those heavy c-stands? Make your own. For 12 bucks, you can build your own out of wood. And guess what? You own it!

All you need to carry are a few rarefied lights. You can fit them in the back of one truck. Along with your costumes, makeup and film crew. And guess what - if it looks like crap, you can fix it in post! ( I know that’s a hollow excuse bandied about on all sets, but with Apple Color, it’s actually true)

What really gets me is the unions have not grasped this. They have not come down in their quotes and prices. It doesn’t take a business major - or maybe it does - to realize that just like the post houses, they’re pricing themselves into extinction.

Lesson: the high resolution cameras are cutting down on time you have to wait for some dude to hang up a light.

(I’m not sucking on the teat of RED. Try a Canon x-7. Or the Sony EX-3. Can’t afford that? Next week, next month, there will be something cheaper. Better. Faster. That you can OWN. But I digress)


DP = DIRECTOR = EFFICIENCY

On cinematographers: they’re called directors of photography for a reason. The director creates the vision, in best cases, and thinks of the larger picture. The DP is handed the set, and the reigns of control on the set. Everything is dependent on the DP and how prepared he is for the elements.

To me this is the most frightening aspect of production. Because if the DP is unprepared, what then? Time is the most valuable element of any shoot, and here you are giving that time to an artist of light.

Being an artist myself, I lavish lots of time to get things right. You want the DP to get things right.

But you also need efficiency.

And let’s face it, most DPs (especially most DPs starting out) are not efficient. Why?

Because they don’t need to be.

They consider themselves to be equal partners in the storytelling. And, like an actor, they’re going to tell their story on the set because that’s what they’re there for. Overtime or not, they’re artists.

(What always drives me nuts is they don’t pre-light a set. They arrive in the morning,. Have breakfast, do some lighting, stop, do a little more lightning, stop, tweak, tweak, light some more, and so on. What were they doing the night before? I mean, the set was always the same. They could have lit the set 2 weeks ago. Why does everybody have to wait for them that day? In school, I used to homework the night before. DPs are the people who always do their homework the period before. But I digress.)

Combining the director with the director of photography is not only makes sense, it’s efficient. See: Steven Soderbergh.

In fact, I would argue, it’s the way it should be for all indie film. It’s the one way to make sure there’s someone who cares about the look of the film and its production schedule.

Why isn’t this embraced? Is it because of the Film School Mentality?

Hey, directors - instead of standing around the set like a Napoleonic emperor, visualizing in your head and dictating commands from the luxury of your video village, why don’t you strap on the camera and shoot it your goddamn self? Too afraid? Too hard? Or did you skip those classes in Film School and spent your time posing in front of a camera for your web site? What? You don’t you know your lenses? Jesus, what did you go to film school for?

The coddling days of the director are over.

Lesson: All you need on a set is one person who has the big picture in his head and you put that person to work.


GO OUTSIDE

MONSTERS relied on found locations. If they saw a green field or a cool location as they drove by, they would stop and improvise something. They didn’t wait for the script supervisor or need clapboards. Why? Because the filmmaker was the cameraman was the editor.

Scenery costs nothing. Point a camera at a landscape and suddenly you’re David Lean.

Lesson: If you’re starting out, you don’t need a studio. You don’t need to pay for locations either. If your story relies on specific locations, then you haven’t found the right story to make for your indie budget.


LOSE THE WRITER (?)

What boggles my mind is Gareth Edwards didn’t have a script. He had a ten page outline of the arc, separated into emotional beats. The actors improvised, found new moments ,repeated others.

This method frightens the hell out of me, more than anything else about his method. How on earth can you get a consistent vision on film without a reliable script?

Well, he did.

While I’d rather chew glass after having all my teeth removed by rusted pliers than to allow an actor to improvise my lines, I understand.

(But improvisation always rubs me the wrong way. One, because the writer has thought about all the angles, all the detours, all the alternate ways of telling a scene. He knows the bad ways to tell a scene, and he’s found a path that works for the overall structure of the film. When actors improvise they tend to talk over each other, and worse, they try to “top” one another. It crucially upsets the balance the writer has painstakingly tried to find within the given of the scene. There’s nothing worse than a supporting character applying some shtick he tried in acting class and incorporating it in a scene. An actor, in the moment, doesn’t care about the balance of a script. He doesn’t care about the structure of a scene. He cares about his arc and his arc only. And he’ll do anything in his powers to try to crack up the crew. He wants his moment to “shine.”

I don’t mind about individual lines. I DO mind about characters stealing scenes from other characters.

And I just don’t like it when a director allow an actor to improvise on set. If the director can hand over the reigns of scene construction to an actor, why doesn’t the director allow craft services take over the lighting direction for a while? Why doesn’t the grip get to say “action?” It’s a collaborative medium, right? But I digress)

The writer must always be open to suggestions and the moments the actors discover. It’s essential to moviemaking. But when there’s a captain at the helm who has the entire layout of the movie in his head, the writer - and all his painstaking craft and aspirations - become irrelevant.

And with the urgency lent by the down and dirty approach of handheld cameras, improvised dialogue becomes a necessity.

It’s all about the structure, stupid.

Lesson: Not only is Mr. Edwards putting cinematographers, script supervisors, grips, electricians, producers out of a job, he’s putting me - the writer - out of a job.


LOSE THE EFFECTS HOUSES (BURN ‘EM DOWN)

MONSTERS also relied on a third genius talent: effects. Mr Edwards knew enough of FX to know what he could fix/alter/create on the computer. And effects are becoming more and more affordable. If Mr Edwards wanted a CG plane, he bought a model online for a few bucks, redid it himself and put it in his film.

He did the effects work on a laptop in his bedroom.

Today you walk into an effects house for some CGI work you need in your film and they’ll give you an outrageous hourly rate. They’ll say it costs $10K for a completed effects shot. You’ll balk. They’ll say, “You want it done right, don’t you?” And you’ll go on Youtube and find some young maverick who produced film-worthy effects on his own as a calling card and you’ll wonder, “What’s the future here? Some effects house with a high overhead that rapes young filmmakers into overspending or is it in the hands of hungry young talent who are advancing technology for personal means?”

(I don’t use the word rape lightly: these smug effects houses, who overcharge daily, are just asking to be brought down. They’re the equivalent of used car salesmen. And worse they don’t even advance their own art form. Not unless someone like Jim Cameron or Spielberg is paying them to. Shame on them. But I digress)

These effects houses may house creative minds that may find creative solutions to your problems, but they’re operated like hospitals. Every band-aids costs $20. You don’t need that. Find the solutions yourself. Whatever happened to the mantra of “improvise, innovate, invent?”

(And whatever happened to using practical effects? Has anyone ever been convinced by a CG creature besides Gollum or the Navi? Hell no. Audiences can spot them a mile away. You know, in the old days, like say, RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, a lot of practical effects were used. Remember the face melt? That was a wax dummy. Do you think it would be half as shocking if it was CG? Think about that. But I digress)

Lesson: Like the post houses, like the electricians, the effects houses have priced themselves into extinction.


CHOOSE THE RIGHT STORY

Now mind you, this technique - and it is a technique - will not work for all stories. I remember when Dogma was all the rage, it filled a lot of wannabe filmmakers with the same enthusiasm. We don’t need lights! We don’t need sound! What we got were a lot of lousy films that looked like they were filmed through a bucket of mud with no coherent sound.

You must make sure it is the right story for this technique. I believe the handheld genre works for horror, faux docs, exposes, thrillers, road movies, sci-fi, comedies, revenge stories, drama… I’m going to go out on a limb and say it can work for every type of story. (I was going to throw westerns in there. But I just can’t think of one )

Basically, everything can be handheld. It lends urgency to the story you’re telling.

Lesson: make sure your story has that urgency built in and you’re ready to roll, down and dirty style.


SOUND BECOMES MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR VISUALS

Sound is SO essential that it’s insulting to believe you can sacrifice quality here. So many filmmakers leave sound as an afterthought. Nothing yells amateur more than crappy camera-micced sound. I've been on sets where the sound men are treated like second-class citizens. Make a friend of your sound man!!

With the caveat being this: you don’t have to have great sound on set. Hello, ADR is an art, people! But you must have good sound. Even Mr. Edwards says “If you have really crappy picture but great sound they’ll forgive you but if you have really great picture and crappy sound you cant be forgiven.” Therefore, a lot of your post money is going to go to sound. Plan accordingly.

Lesson: You must have good sound, but not necessarily on the set. MONSTERS was 90 percent ADR. And guess what? So was THE LORD OF THE RINGS.


DON’T CAST YOUR ZIT-FACED FRIENDS

The other essential element is good acting. This I believe you must pay for. You don’t need SAG or AFTRA actors, but you pretty much need actors just as good. With the unions cooperating with experimental low budget movies, you now have greater flexibly than ever before.

Just don’t screw with the unions. So you might have to spring for that honey wagon their agents always demand in their contracts.

But if you find yourself with a dickhead agent who puts a rider on the contract, you shouldn’t be doing business with that actor in the first place.

Or you can go overseas and find quality hungry actors who just want do work and import them. The expense will probably be the same.

But don’t cast just anybody. There’s nothing that screams low budget more than a film featuring actors who look like your neighbors.

Maybe it’s because we’re so used to seeing pretty actors on screen.

Or maybe it’s because screen actors who know what they’re doing have these open expressive faces that invite audience participation. That draw the viewers in. That can be real without acting it, without indicating it or impersonating it.

You know these types of faces. You’ve been watching them your whole life.

(It always baffles me that actors with significant six figure quotes don’t invest in the projects they’re working on. Somehow the entrepreneurial spirit eludes the acting profession. If I had a significant quote I’d put it back into the budget as an investment and therefore would be part-owner of the project. Being an owner is the only way you’ll see your money back, folks. I wouldn’t even bother with the front end grosses nonsense. But I digress)

Just find actors who are enormously gifted, unique to your project, and who don’t care about what their hair looks like every five minutes.

Try a pro or two. You might be surprised who says yes.

So don’t cast your zit-faced friends with their greasy hair and pallid skin. You need to spend the time to find good, interesting and active actors. (Why did I say active? Well… I’m going to go to hell for saying this, but you can always tell the budget of a movie if one of the leads is fat.)

Actors: you need to say yes to this low budget approach. Remember, the days of multi-million dollar budgets are coming to an end. Either you’re scoring that big comic book movie or you gotta go down and dirty, get some dirt underneath your fingernails and cinch your belt with the rest of us. Stop worrying about that Maybelline contract. That will come later. But first you must prove you have heart.

And actors, when you do say yes to this approach, you need to relax. No one is ripping you off. All of us want to do work and get more work as a result of our endeavors. So please give us a break if we need you to do some ADR or, God forbid, we ask you to come to a table read. In return, we’ll promise our checks won’t bounce.

Lesson: These actors can come from anywhere. They don’t necessarily have to come from the unions. But they gotta be good.

Because if they’re not, you’re sunk.


EXPERIMENT NARRATIVELY

Movies are an experience. More so than a coherent story. Would you rather watch a David Lynch or Kubrick film, films that give you an experience at sacrifice of a standard story? Or would you rather watch a Jennifer Aniston film that tells you exactly what to feel and how to think at every given moment?

If you’re going to all this trouble, why copy somebody else?

In many ways I believe Joseph Campbell’s HERO WITH A THOUSAND FACES is the worst thing to happen to movies. It ruins all mystery. You lose that sense of awe that stories used to carry.

If it’s everyone’s destiny to be a hero, as Campbell devotees preach, then no one is a hero.

Sometimes heroes just are. Sometimes shit just happens.

And not everyone needs a backstory. It’s the thing to do now - origin stories. But movies were doing fine without them.

Look at Hannibal Lecter. Did we really need an origin story? Didn’t he became less scary the more we knew about him?

Did we need the full backstory of Indiana Jones to enjoy him on RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK? Did he become any more heroic when he was played by River Phoenix?

Or take Mary Poppins. Do you think she would be more magical or less if we knew where she came from, what her upbringing was and what her relationship with Bert was?

If you’re thinking yes to any of those questions, you don’t deserve MARY POPPINS.

Lesson: Indie filmmakers must experiment and tell personal stories and create unique experiences or else why are you independent?


EMBRACE FAILURE

Art isn’t easy. The process is hard work. And guess what - it’s supposed to be hard work.

When embarking any project, your biggest concern/worry is that you are making a piece of shit. That’s natural. That’s why you do your homework. You know when you’re taking a test and you didn’t do the homework. Be honest.

That’s why you must train yourself for the marathon to come. Because the last thing you want to think back on when all is said and done is “I should have done this…”

Everyone aspires to do good work (except the clock punchers). That’s a good thing. The bad thing? Everyone expects success. Success being red carpet premieres, headlines in the newspapers/blogs, distribution deals, landing an agent who will give you the keys to the kingdom. Believe me, people are consumed by this.

But that’s the last thing you should be thinking about.

You want to be a producer? Writer? Filmmaker? You have to make stuff.

The difference between making stuff and wanting to make stuff is… you guessed it… making stuff.

And you’re not making stuff because of two things: money and lack of courage. Money is a black and white option. You either have it or you don’t. Same thing with courage. And your lack of courage lies in your fear of failure.

A writer isn’t a good writer until he writes a few shitty scripts. You don’t start writing a script expecting every page is going to be gold. You have to allow yourself to fail. You have to allow yourself to WRITE SHIT. Otherwise, you’re going to second-guess yourself to death. It’s what Clint Eastwood calls “the paralysis of analysis.” It’s a straitjacket. Avoid it.

It’s the same thing with filmmaking. Every day on set you’re expected to fail. Expect to make mistakes. Because God is going to co-direct your movie. God likes to direct via weather, fire, human incompetence, reneged location permits and 14-hour days. If you go into each day expecting something disastrous to happen, when it does happen you won’t throw your hands up in the air and go “I quit” or ‘I’m exhausted, let’s go home.”

If you do the homework and cover your bases (hiring the right people, making sure the money is onscreen and not in someone‘s pockets), at the worst - AT THE WORST - you’ll wind up with something mediocre. That’s a good bet. I’d take that bet. Wouldn’t you? Because if the magic happens, it’s going to wind up better than that.

But you can only go forward knowing that those are the rules of the game.

Complete failure IS an option.

And even if you finish filming and your movie is a piece of shit, so what? You got something produced. It’s on your resume. You have a film. And even though it’s a piece of shit, having a piece of movie shit is better than having an unproduced script. Would you rather have something or nothing?

Failure is a friend. Make a friend of failure. It will only make you feel invincible.

Lesson: The greatest gift you can give yourself is the permission to fail.


CAVEAT EMPTOR

You make it. It looks decent. Now what?

Well, unless you’re brilliant and original and competes in a marketable genre, it’ll probably wind up on Youtube. Or you can donate it to Netflix.

In the end, you’ll still be relying on some Prince Charming corporation to put it in theaters. You’ll still be applying to film festivals, eating shit. And when you get accepted, you’ll be pressing the flesh, spending money on flyers, posters, promotions, ads, parties, begging for acceptance. Like every amateur.

Sure, you can release it on VOD, iTunes, or distribute it yourself. But unless you’re Kevin Smith or have at least a million Twitter followers you aren’t going to get a huge payday.

Which is why reducing the cost of production makes so much sense.

Just make your movie. If you got something to say, say it. If you’re a true artist, you have this burning desire to tell your story. It’s up to you to find the low cost means to tell it.

Because you can’t wait for that Hollywood phone call giving you the keys to the kingdom. That’s a myth. It’s always been a myth. And you can’t afford to buy into the myth.

You can’t afford to think analog anymore. You’ve got to think digital. You’ve got to think LONG TAIL. (Don’t now what that is? Look it up)

I found a post house for SEX ED. They were passionate. They gave me everything I needed and beyond. They gave me an indie friendly rate.

They went out of business.

The bight side is they got future work out of the quality job they did for me.

Like Francis Coppola predicted, "Some fat girl in Ohio is going to be the new Mozart, you know, and make a beautiful film with her little father's camera."

Filmmaking has become more and more democratized due to technology.

The means to be the next Mozart are here. Are now.

Just don’t expect to be paid for it .

(The sad truth is I believe all these changes are happening for the next generation. Generation Xers and Yers are stuck in the old Film School regimented cubicle-style of filmmaking. We better roll up our sleeves, tear up our union cards and join the parade before it passes us by. Or let’s simply get out of the way. But I digress)

Lesson: Chances are no one will see your film. Not unless you have a “name” (don’t cast your zit-faced friends). Not unless you have a lot of coin to put into the publicity machine. And even then, unless you win the lottery, at best - AT BEST - your film will wind up on a straight-to-DVD dustbin or some late-night channel at 3 in the morning.


THE LESSON IN ALL THIS

A student who only enrolls in Film School to be a director is a fool. The student must enroll and be able to do everything. To only be a director, or a cinematographer, or a writer, is to throw our life away in the film industry. You must know everything about every department to tell your story and have the balls to call yourself independent.

You must learn everything, do everything, be everything so you can be a true maverick who’s multi-talented in direction, vision, ability to spot truth, and the knowledge of cameraman and lenses, and the knowledge of post.

Or if you’re a producer, you must find someone who is.

Otherwise, you’ll be throwing your money in a very standard inefficient way that may get you a good result.

Or you can spend less in an efficient way and get something just as good.

Things are changing at such an enormous rate, you can’t afford to buy into a myth that no longer exists. The studios are going bankrupt. They’re in the same boat as the indie filmmaker scrambling to find money. Individual billionaires are now funding movies. So why are you waiting for some corrupt corporation to send you that check?

I believe an artist creates art because he needs to. I can’t imagine any true artist saying, yes I have a vision but I’m sit and wait for someone to pay me first.

Not I’m advocating that people work for free. People should be paid according to their ability, according to how useful they are to the production. The more useful, the more value their work is to you.

And if they’re hungry, and they believe in your story, and they think the job they’re doing is important, then what else can you ask for? Because you should only hire people who’s deepest darkest desire to be part of Good Work.

Your best value, as a producer, is to hire workaholics.

(What if there was a way we could all cash in? If the crew and cast were considerably small, then why not a pseudo-Communist share in the profits? But, as we all know in the biz, there ain’t no thing as profit. But the more we stray away from the corporate way of doing things, maybe there is profit. Or significant return. But I digress)

Independent movies are by definition independent. So emulating the studio model not only doesn’t apply, it doesn’t even make sense! Every dollar you spend should be on that screen and not in some union guy’s pocket. And it certainly should not be in an actor’s pocket. And guess what - it doesn’t belong in your pocket either. You wanna make a film? Make it because you want to make it. Don’t make it if you expect to be paid.

You cannot pinch on quality. You must pay for quality. The only thing you should pay for is quality. I believe you should spend it on sound and performance. Others may feel differently.

You just do not need to pay someone to tell you to turn the air conditioner off when she’s two feet away from it.

The future is yours.



POSTSCRIPT

No one knows better than me that you need the collaboration of people who are better than you, who are more experienced than you, and who more artistic than you, to succeed in a medium such as film. No one is alone. The film process is built upon the creation of a unit to pull together and create a work of meaningful art.

This process, like theater, is as sacred to me as any church.

But like every chain, it is only as strong as its weakest link.

And when you have a film set where a grip is standing around with his hands in his pockets, waiting to be told what to do, looking at the clock, or when a director is off in a corner have a neck message, there’s a lot of weak chains around.

As a producer, it’s your job to run an efficient set.

Gareth Edwards’ MONSTERS demonstrates an extreme case of shaking the tree down to its barest elements. And it can work for you just as well as any 70 person production. If I were an aspiring filmmaker, this bare bones method, utilizing incredibly talented people, pitching in, going above and beyond their departments, becoming a cohesive whole, is the way to…

… hey wait a min…. I AM an aspiring filmmaker…. And this is the way to go!

I got one more in me. That’s about it. But I got to take my shot. Cash in some of the knowledge I’ve accumulated before I pack my bags and do something drastic (such as teaching for a living. Yikes).

I’m going to try this maverick way. Sure, I’m going to spend on things. Actors, unions, makeup (I like looking at pretty things). I may wind up with a 13 person crew. I may even wind up renting a studio for the story I want to tell.

The script may be so good that I don’t have to scrounge around for pennies in my couch to make it myself. Maybe someone will buy it. Invest in it.

Then again, maybe it will rain if I don’t turn the door handle three times. I don’t know.

What I do know is I’m going to meet people who can combine as much talent into one package as humanly possible. And I know I’m going to work with those people who will cinch their belt and work at a cut rate on a film they are passionate about creating. Because… why else would I want to work with them?

And I also know this: in the end, indie filmmaking is not a business. The selling of it is. Oh yes it is. But the creation of a film is not a business. It shouldn’t be. And it isn’t. It’s only because of the Film School Mentality that people expect to get paid for a certain specific piece of work. And that mentality is driving more and more people out of work.

We all have to pitch in. We are all multi-talented. Isn’t that what we came out here for? So why delegate to others who aren’t as passionate when - for the first time in history, folks! - we have the technological means and the intellectual drive to do it ourselves?

Hey, it’s called indie filmmaking for a reason.

Because the middle class way of filmmaking- the million to 10 million dollar film - is gone, baby gone. The future is homemade maverick filmmaking. Done with skill. Done with style. Done with surprise.

Because anything else would be… dear God… a job.

And who wants that?