Archive for "A Lonely Place For Dying"

A Lonely Place For Dying Goes To San Diego Film Festival

A Lonely Place For Dying has been invited to screen at the San Diego Film Festival! I’m extremely excited. The SDFF is one of the best festivals in America. It’s won a bunch of awards, it’s located in one of my favorite cities and the caliber of films cannot be beat.

We’re screening on Friday, September 25th at 9:30 PM and Saturday, September 26th at 7:30 PM. In addition, I’ve been asked to be a speaker for their screenwriting panel Writing The Scene They All End Up Talking About. The panel is on Saturday, September 26th at 11:00 AM.

In many ways, this feels like our first real film festival. That isn’t to say we don’t value the four festivals that have screened the work-in-progress versions of our film. And, it’s been quite an honor to win awards as a work-in-progress. But, this is the first festival where the finished version of the film will be screened.

Most people have no idea how much post-production transforms a film. Francis Ford Coppola once said that “Sound is half of what we see”. That amazing soundbite has been misquoted and misattributed to George Lucas, Stephen Spielberg and anyone else who values the impact of sound design and music. Despite the confusion over its origin, the sentiment is one of the most profound statements about filmmaking.

The audience and many filmmakers believe film is a visual medium. That statement is only half true. Motion pictures are as much about sound as they are about pictures. And, sound is what separates most independents from studio films.

And, we didn’t want to do what many independent filmmakers do. We didn’t want to have a “festival version” and then wait for a buyer to foot the bill to enhance the audio. We’re not children. We don’t need our hands held. We can do this on our own, thank you very much. For us, it was incredibly important that we do studio-quality audio on our own.

I’ve had audience members walk up to me and say “Don’t add music. The script is so good without it”. While I appreciate this and I’m grateful they enjoyed the movie as a work-in-progress I strongly disagree with the sentiment. Music heightens emotion. It clarifies moments that can be accidentally interpreted multiple ways. It adds momentum to silent moments and gives montages purpose and structure. Brent Daniels 50 minutes of music accomplishes all these things and definitely takes the movie to the next level.

We’ve spent nine months adding visual effects, music composed in 5.1, original foley, a massive amount of 5.1 sound effects, a 5.1 mix, animated titles and we slaved over the dialogue edit…because we want the screenplay to be unimpeded by technical flaws. We want an audience to forget they are watching a low budget motion picture and become absorbed in the storytelling.

Because of that, everything before this has felt like a dress rehearsal. The audience got an idea of where we were going. They could tell the dialogue was solid and the performances (particularly Ross Marquand’s amazing work as Nikolai Dzerzhinsky) were compelling. But, what they saw was not a finished film. Like the work-in-progress screening of Beauty & The Beast at the 1991 New York Film Festival, it was a solid example of where we were going with our work.

For the first time, sold-out audiences will get to see the film as we intended it to be from its inception. Will we make some tweaks after this screening? Most definitely! We’ll want to change a few sound effects and polish a couple visual effects. But, that’s common practice for studio movies to do as well. For all intents and purposes, this is now a finished film. At most, it needs a couple rough edges to be smoothed.

We’re incredibly grateful for this opportunity. Thanks, San Diego!

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Minimizing Investor Risk Through Film Subsidies

I’ve written about how independent filmmakers can raise money for their films in a previous New Breed post. And, while ethical accounting practices and professional business plans are important they are only part of the equation.

THE MIND OF THE INVESTOR:
Investors invest for a variety of reasons, but the unifying concept for all investors is simple. Investors are fearful of losing their money. This fear overrides their desire for profits. Let me repeat that. The fear of losing money is a stronger motivator than the desire for profits.

Most entrepreneurs assume an investor wants to hear about a massive ROI(return on investment). They start talking about exit strategy (the method in which investors extract their capital from a successful venture). This is putting the cart before the horse. The first thing an investor wants to know is how an entrepreneur will protect their money. Once that issue is addressed then they want to hear about profits and exits.

If you reverse this, you’ve probably lost the investor. Why? Because they know that projected profits is merely speculation. You may have done your best and you may truly believe you can achieve a high rate of return for the investor…but it is still speculation, not fact. And, what’s the value in an exit strategy for a project that lost all it’s money? That’s not an investment…that’s a tax write-off.

Therefore, the first thing an investor wants to hear is how you can concretely protect their money.

TOOL #1: SECTION 181
You’ve heard of farming subsidies. A few years back savvy film lobbyists created subsidies for the film industry. As they outlined the dangers of runaway production to Canada, Eastern Europe and Australia, Congress passed legislation that resulted in Section 181 of the IRS Code. Put simply, Section 181 states that investment in a motion picture shot in the US is 100% tax deductable for the investor.

100%. I wish I could write that in neon.

By including a chapter in your business plan about how an investor can use Section 181 to reduce their tax burden you can illustrate to the investor how you are reducing their risk. Section 181 guarantees that they cannot lose all their money in your film.

Now, Section 181 should have been easy to understand. It hasn’t been and that’s why few people understand it and even fewer use it. In 2007 the IRS finally released a pamphlet explaining how they interpret the code. Some members of Congress believe the IRS’ interpretation contradicts elements of their original legislation. Because of the contradictory interpretations and the IRS’ reluctance to clearly outline how to use Section 181 for your motion picture you need a Section 181 consultant to help set up your film properly.

Google the term. You’ll be able to read the code and you’ll find a few individuals who claim they can help you with Section 181. I’ll happily consult with you as well. But, here are some of the broad strokes:

- 75% of the motion picture must be shot in the US to qualify for Section 181.
- There is a 15 to 20 million dollar budget cap (although, this needs further explanation).
- There is no minimum.
- TV pilots, TV episodes (up to 44), short films, music videos and feature films all qualify for Section 181.
- Section 181 can be applied to regular income or capital gains, depending on your corporate structure and how your investors are involved with the company. If this is done wrong your investors can end up with a helluva surprise when they turn in their taxes.
- Section 181 is retroactive. If you finished a project in the past couple years you and your investors may be able to redo your taxes and recapture some of your expenses as a tax rebate from Uncle Sam. This will require hiring an accountant who understands Section 181. If you created a $2,000.00 short film I doubt it is worth your time, money and effort. If you self-financed a $60,000.00 feature film then it is definitely worth your time.
- The motion picture’s corporation will need to issue Schedule K-1’s to the investors so they can take advantage of Section 181. Consult with an accountant on how to do this.
- And, yes, there is more to it than this simple list. This is only an overview. As with any element of the IRS code, you can’t leap to conclusions nor make bold assumptions about how you can take advantage of this law. It is nuanced. In its current form it is paradoxically interpreted. Hire an expert to assist you with implementing this into your venture. Hire an accountant with Section 181 experience before you redo previous taxes.

Right now, your ears may be bleeding and your eyes glossed over. If you struggle with the differences between passive and regular income, if you don’t understand how to incorporate a business, if taxes make your skin crawl…don’t give up. Just hire a consultant. It’s worth every penny. Because, if you implement a Section 181 plan in your business model you’ve made it much easier for an investor to write you a check.

This sort of work makes most creatives run for the hills. We’re not built for math. But, when you’re pitching an investor, which sounds better?

“As you can see, investing in my movie is going to be a huge risk. You’ll be risking 100% of the capital you put into my movie. But, I’m a good filmmaker. Trust me. I’m going to make a great movie that will make you a profit.”

OR

“Investing in our project includes a level of safety investors haven’t experienced before in the entertainment industry. We’ve taken the time to research recent tax legislation, and we’ve hired a consultant who can explain how your investment is 100% tax deductable. We’ve gone through the steps to make sure the IRS will recognize your deduction. Therefore, you’re risking approximately 60 cents on the dollar. How many investments, in this market and in this economy, can promise that a significant portion of your money is completely protected? Now, let me explain how we’re going to make an exceptionally good movie with tremendous profit potential…”

The first remark is like every independent filmmaker in the world. They’re begging. The second isn’t a beggar. The second is an entrepreneur.

TOOL #2: GOVERNMENT SPONSORSHIP
Shoot your movie in a state with rebates or transferrable tax credits and pass this subsidy onto your investors at the completion of production. As an example, if a $100,000.00 movie shoots in New Mexico and spends every penny in the state (or, through a pass through corporation that pays state taxes) the state of New Mexico will cut a $25,000.00 check for that motion picture.

You can pass that check onto your investor. Like the educated statement provided in Tool #1, adding adding a state subsidy to your business plan allows you to speak about risk minimization. You can now claim that the investor is only risking 75 cents on the dollar if the project is produced in New Mexico…or 62 cents on the dollar if produced in Michigan. Iowa now has a 50% rebate (although with some unusual provisions that complicate the matter). In essence, they’re buying 100K investment in your movie for only 75 cents and the government is picking up the rest of the tab, on a delayed time table.

Are there nuances, details and stumbling blocks to this process? Absolutely. So, yet again, it is best to hire a consultant to help you with this. Considering over 30 states in the US now have some type of tax credit or rebate plan it is foolish to not take advantage of these incentive programs. If Michigan wants to help filmmakers make movies, then why not take advantage of that?

You’ll be tempted to dismiss this and make your movie in your hometown. This is convenient. You might be lucky…with 30 states now competing for motion pictures with rebates, transferrable tax credits shooting local might still enable you to take advantage of one of these programs.

But, which do you want? To make a movie in your neighborhood with no investment or to make a properly financed motion picture with a decent amount of capital? If you’re serious about this as a business, then start thinking like a business owner and put your investors before your comfort zone.

TOOL #3: MARRIAGE
Combine Section 181 with a tax rebate. By coupling the two together you can reduce an investor’s risk by 65-100%. Think about that. It depends on how much the investor earns annually, how much they’ve invested in your movie and where your movie will be produced…but, it is possible that an investor could invest in your motion picture…and risk nothing. Conservatively, they’re risk will be 50% of what they’ve given you. That means if they invest $100,000.00 they are guaranteed to recoup $50,000.00 in tax deductions and rebates. Depending on the math, they may be able to write off 100%.

A WORD OF CAUTION
There are nuances to Section 181 as well as every state rebate or transferrable tax credit. Spend a couple thousand dollars to hire someone who understands these incentive programs. Make sure a lawyer familiar with these programs has vetted your business plan. Practice your pitch for that lawyer so they can vet the language you’ll be using to pitch investors. And, for God’s sake, please get the math right. Don’t walk in and say they’ll risk nothing unless you know that is actually true.

Here is an example. Your movie needs 200K. Investor X wants to invest 200K into your film. Their annual income is 200K and they have 1M in assets (making them an accredited investor). Their annual taxes are approximately 50K and they have absolutely no tax write-offs to take advantage of. If they invest 200K into your film they’ll be risking 150K…because they only owe 50K in taxes. The IRS isn’t cutting them a check. They’ll be happy to let the balance go to zero, but they aren’t draining the Federal coffers to cover anything beyond what the investor would have owed.

So, that means they’re risking 75 cents on the dollar.

But, wait! You’re going to shoot this movie in Michigan. Michigan will give you a 40% rebate. They’ll kick in an extra 2% if you shoot it in one of the numerous Special Economic Zones they have throughout the state. So, you shoot in Detroit and spend EVERY PENNY in Michigan. That means they’ll cut you a check for 42% of your 200K budget. That’s $84,000.00. You agree that this rebate belongs to your investor. Investor X will now be getting $134,000.00 in tax deductions and rebates from the Federal Government and the State of Michigan for their 200K investment in your motion picture. They’re actual risk is less than 45 cents on the dollar.

Any savvy investor will take such massive reduction in risk very seriously.

But, there’s no such thing as a free lunch. If you’re going to get Uncle Sam and The Land Of Enchantment to blindly subsidize your filmmaking career then it’s going to require research, due diligence and some expert advise (that more than likely won’t come free).

But, don’t dismiss this either. Ask yourself a simple question. Which is a tougher path…convincing a Hollywood studio to buy your screenplay and let you direct it…or, spending a month researching these incentive programs so you have a secret weapon in raising money?

More importantly, asking friends and family to invest in your movie is no longer an exercise in begging. Take the time to factor how much your family members will spend in taxes this year and ask them to invest a good chunk of their tax dollars in your movie instead.

MAJOR CAVEAT:
My greatest fear in explaining these tools is that a slew of crappy movies will get made at the expense of tax payers. The law of unintended consequences pretty much guarantees this will happen.

I delayed writing this article for nearly two months for this very reason. I truly mean this…my fear is that every half-baked script in America will suddenly find money it doesn’t deserve and we’ll be drowning in second-rate content. This will only make it more difficult for good filmmakers to cut through the noise and have their projects taken seriously. It will make the market tremendously overcrowded. And, it will inevitably result in massive investor losses….which, will eventually lead to the repeal of these very laws.

We’ll be back to square one, people.

So, remember this. You still have to make a great film. Most of Western Europe had massive film subsidies throughout the 1970’s and 1980’s. The goal was to enable individuals to make movies that could be distributed commercially and build a viable local film economy to compete with Hollywood. Ironically, the more their citizens used these subsidies the more market share Hollywood gained. Why? Because most of the filmmakers made crappy movies far worse than what Hollywood had to offer. The general public is still our collective employer and if they don’t like our movies they’ll tell their friends and our movies won’t have legs. No matter how much you spend on your film, it must be great. The script must be amazing. The acting must be astounding. You still need a celebrity actor to convince traditional distributors to consider releasing your movie. You must still be excellent at this craft. If not…you’ll be one of those forgotten French filmmakers from the 1980’s who made an artsy stinker of a movie that has disappeared into the ether.

Australia has subsidies. Canada has subsidies. Great Britain has subsidies. How many great directors come out of those three countries every year? Let that give you pause. Subsidies will help you get any movie made…even a bad one. I know a filmmaker who recently began work on his first feature film. I offered to help him with casting. But, he gave me great pause when he said “The script is crap. I mean it. It’s awful. I just want to get going on a feature film like you.”

How selfish. How short sighted. How self-sabotaging. How miopic. How…stupid. He might as well take a .45 caliber pistol and unload it into his foot.

Because of my concern regarding the law of unintended consequences I’ve deliberately left out a lot of details. I know far too many amateur filmmakers who would easily jump to the conclusion that with 100K they’re ready to make a feature film…and neglect pre-production, careful planning and the time it takes to write a great script. Their lack of patience terrifies me because all they’ll achieve is making expensive amateur films.

In short, you’re going to have to jump through many hoops to make these incentive programs work for you. I did. It helped hone me as a filmmaker and entrepreneur. Nothing good will ever come from something being too easy. We all have word processors on our computers. How many of us have ever written The Great American Novel?

In fact, as I write this, I hope most people realize that access to capital is not their primary obstacle. Lack of skill has and always will be the real hurdle.

SHACKLES REMOVED
For the experienced independent filmmaker these tools can change everything. Combine these three tools with a solid business plan and transparent bookkeeping and you’ll find raising money is relatively straight forward.

For the amateur who has no patience…you’ll be ruining it for the rest of us if you don’t slow down and craft a project worthy of an audience.

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RE: MANAGING EXPECTATIONS ON THE FESTIVAL CIRCUIT

CLICK HERE TO FOLLOW THE ENTIRE PANEL DISCUSSION ON “MANAGING EXPECTATIONS ON THE FESTIVAL CIRCUIT”.

Now that I’ve listed all the ways film festivals let us down as filmmakers, I think it is time to turn this around. Let’s talk about how we filmmakers let down film festivals.

1: WE ARE FLAKES
Let’s face it, the overwhelming majority of filmmakers are flakes. We show up late. We fill out forms incorrectly. We ship our tapes after the deadline. We dress like jackasses. We complain about petty nonsense.

I always dress in a suit. I always show up at my screenings early. I always participate in a tech rehearsal (because, even if this annoys the tech, my job is to serve the audience. The audience is my boss). I always say please, thank you, sir and ma’m. It’s not a put-on. It’s good manners.

I only complain about the things that matter. I’m not going to tell you which festival served lunch ten minutes late and that the food was cold. That’s unimportant. I care about how the staff behaves, how they screen my movie and how they conduct the professional aspects of their festival. If a hotel forgets to get me towels, I’m privately annoyed but do not consider this worthy of ever mentioning publicly…and certainly not in a blog.

I can’t say the same for other filmmakers. I’ve sat in parties where filmmakers are LOUDLY talking about how the salsa is bland. So what? Yes, they’re serving mashed potatoes in martini glasses. I also believe that was the most bizarre catering choice on the planet earth. But, what’s the point in talking about it loudly and in front of the festival staff?

I strongly believe we filmmakers should dress better. I don’t mean we should put on a fashion show…but, if we want our work to be taken seriously, why do we dress like social misfits? What we wear is a uniform and it sends a signal to the festival staff and the audience. I have two festival suits. A grey Banana Republic suit and a blue Calvin Klein. I wear hip dress shirts without a tie. My belt, watch, socks and shoes all coordinate. And, the message is “You paid to see my movie. I respect you. I didn’t just roll out of bed with sleep still in my eyes. I take this event as seriously as you do.”

Here is the other secret to why it is worth looking like a professional. As a result I’m treated like one. And, festivals are swimming with people who just might invest in a movie. I want that potential investor to take me seriously. Dressing well is the first step.

And, I’m not the only one who believes this. Every movie star I’ve hung out with at festivals practices the same principal. James Cromwell came to the Santa Fe Film Festival in a fantastic blue pinstripe that said “This is a serious event and I respect that you are here.” Giancarlo Esposito dresses in tweeds with a jaunty hat that says “I’m artistic, but hey, I’ve been in GQ and if you’re going to hand me an award I care enough to show you equal respect by dressing like a professional”.

Showing up in an offensive t-shirt, ripped jeans with bed head simply says you don’t give a damn about them. Why would anyone take a filmaker seriously if that’s what their external uniform communicated to the festival staff and the audience? And, don’t tell me we don’t wear uniforms. That’s all we wear.

I was preppy in junior high. Then, I became a goth for about a year. One day, I wore a name brand shirt as part of my black-and-grey ensemble. I got reamed by my goth friends. “You can’t wear a name brand shirt!” That’s when I realized that everyone is wearing a uniform. For a year I’d rebelled against dressing like society told me to, and it turned out that whatever segment of society I was part of would do the same thing. So, I picked the uniform that best represented who I really was and promptly returned to being preppy.

I think most filmmakers dress like slobs because it is supposed to communicate how serious they are about their art. The message seems to be “I don’t care about silly things like fashion. I care about making movies”. This message fails. All it says is we’re children. I don’t see my clothes when they’re on me…other people do. And, those people extract meaning from what I wear. So, I want them to see me for who I am. I’m a serious entrepreneur. Their money is safe in my hands. I manage their investment wisely. I’m creative, but I’m organized and focused. My uniform speaks this. The film professor from USC who shows up with rainbow hair, torn fishnets and enormous hoop earrings looks like someone who really doesn’t care about being at the festival. And, snapping gum during a Q&A only emphasizes the audience’s snap judgement.

Let me add one more note to this. Would you dress casually for the Oscars? No, you’d arrive in formal wear. Guess what…this festival is the Oscars to the local patrons. For some, this is the most important event of the year. At Sedona a large number of the patrons would step out of a limousine in formal wear. This is their night. This is special. And, we show up like fratboys at a keggar. That, my friends, is called acting like a flake.

Now, if we showed up in a tuxedo or gown that would probably be too much. It would look both naive and clownish for a filmmaker to do that. But, can’t we wear a suit for once in our lives? As Matthew Perry so wisely said on Aaron Sorkin’s Studio 60 “Dressing like little boys isn’t cool anymore.”

2: WE ARE SELFISH
For my first two festivals I thought it was all about me. Boy, was I an ass. Now, I understand that it is all about the audience. Festivals are adding more and more parties. Many are billed as an opportunity to meet a filmmaker. Despite this, the patrons aren’t there to hear about your movie for an hour. I talk about my movie for 30 seconds to a minute. That’s probably too long…I’m still learning how to tame my inner narcissist. Once I’m finished talking about my movie I ask the person why they’re here. If they’re a filmmaker, I talk about their film. And, despite the paradox, I want to talk about their film more than mine. If they’re a volunteer or staff member I want to talk about attendance. If they’re a patron I want to talk about their favorite screenings. Sometimes, I get on a rant about how we independent filmmakers are about to enter the golden age of independent cinema, but that’s after a few glasses of champagne and only with fellow filmmakers who have expressed an interest in making a big movie.

We also steal. I mean that. We are thieves. If you’ve ever taken more than one gift bag, if you’ve put food from a party in your purse, if you stumble into a party with an open bar and start guzzling drinks left and right…you’re exploiting the festival’s generosity.

Now, we all know many festivals don’t respect us. But, that’s no excuse for us to show up and hoover drinks as some passive-aggressive “they owe me” revenge tactic. I’ve seen this and it’s embarrassing. The point of a party with an open bar is to have about one drink an hour. It sure as hell isn’t to get drunk. And it isn’t to walk out of the restaurant with puffy pockets. Perhaps you are on a budget. I respect that. Everyone knows you’re a poor filmmaker. But, I’ve seen people gorge on the free food. Slow down and show the festival that you realize catering isn’t cheap.

The gift bags is a big issue for me. At my first festival I grabbed two extra bags and am now deeply ashamed of it. I don’t need extra bags. The bag is a thank you gift. Yes, the festival orders extras. Yes, they’ll give leftover bags to friends and family afterwards. Yes, most of what is in a gift bag is donated. That doesn’t entitle me to more than one. When I walk into a fellow filmmaker’s hotel room and see a bunch of giftbags I lose respect for that person. And, no one is sly enough to not be noticed by the film festival staff. They see how we behave and the naked greed we display causes festival employees to bristle. Just as we’ve become jaded about festivals, they’ve become jaded about filmmakers.

On top of being greedy it’s tacky. It’s like the people who stay in a hotel and strip the room down to the walls. Do you really need tiny soaps and mini-shampoos? What’s the deal with a free bathrobe? It’s just a bathrobe. And, that TV remote isn’t going to turn on your TV…so leave it alone. That’s what filmmakers are often like at festival parties. We’re locusts that consume everything we touch. Imagine being a festival director and observing filmmakers behaving this way. If you were a festival director and this is how filmmakers behaved at your festival, you’d quickly become jaded as well. The allure of hanging out with artistes would wear off. And you’d say to yourself “Man, I thought it was going to be different than this”.

3: WE ARE UNPREPARED
We show up late. We don’t have promotional materials. We don’t know where are screening is. We don’t know where to get our badge. We don’t know where to park. We stumble & stutter through our Q&A. We have no business cards.

It’s as if most filmmakers consider themselves the audience. They show up and attend the festival. My fellow filmmakers, please understand this…we’re staff. A good festival treats us well, but we still have a job to do.

If you’ve never been to a festival you can still research everything I listed above before you go. You don’t need experience to know how to google the film’s website, print out mapquest directions, jot an itinerary and get 100 business cards printed (at some place other than Vista Prints, please).

4: WE DO NOT SUPPORT OUR OWN FILMS
The overwhelming majority of filmmakers do nothing more than print some posters and postcards. That ain’t gonna cut it, folks. We need to do more. Much more. And, if you’re a filmmaker with a reputation of doing more festivals will program you more. They know you’ll fill a theatre.

5: WE PICK THE BEST SEATS IN THE HOUSE

I’ve seen my movie. I don’t need the best seats. I need to be in the back near an aisle. I’m getting to the point where I don’t enjoy watching my movie in a theatre anymore. I’d rather pace uncomfortably in the lobby and duck back into the theatre during the closing credits, ready to conduct my Q&A.

If you are attending your first film festival then you probably won’t be able to help yourself. You’ll want to sit smack dab in the middle of the theatre. If you can’t help yourself, do this…but, please, do this once and never again. I said it earlier and I really mean this…the audience is our boss. If I’m taking an investor or family member to a film festival, that’s different…yes, I’ll chose good seats. They’re part of the audience and I owe them greatly for letting me chose this bizarre profession. But, if I’m at a festival by myself or I’m attending my second screening at a festival, the seats are for paying ticket holders. I’d be happy with a folding chair in the back (if the Fire Martial would allow it).

6: WE DON’T HAVE MANNERS
Have you sent a thank you card to the festival director for screening your film? Have you offered to buy your tech a drink? If someone introduced your movie, did you thank them personally for doing so? The two words I see most filmmakers desperately need to learn are…

…Thank you.

That’s it. If you did nothing else but say thank you to everyone at the festival you’d make an enormous impression. A handwritten thank you note goes MILES. I know one filmmaker who sends home made brownies. I’m trying to find the time and energy. I certainly see that his gratitude has made an impression.

FINAL THOUGHTS:
When I go to a festival it is work, not play. Even if I’m at a party I’m working. I’m having fun while I do it…but, I throw impromptu poker tournaments (which is always a good ice breaker. I got to know the Colorado film commissioner that way) and I’m trading business cards left and right. I leave a festival exhausted.

Having done all that, I think I’ve earned the right to have high expectations of the festivals I attend. I consider them a partner in building audience interest in my movie. I want them to do their share. Treat me nicely, look me in the eye, don’t rush me out the door, respect that I care about the quality of my screening, understand that my #1 concern is my film plays well before an audience. In exchange, I dress well, speak politely, show up early, charm your patrons and I won’t hoover your food and drinks. We can’t expect respect unless we give it.

CLICK HERE TO FOLLOW THE ENTIRE PANEL DISCUSSION ON “MANAGING EXPECTATIONS ON THE FESTIVAL CIRCUIT”.

JUSTIN EVANS began his first theatre company at 14 and began making films at 15. He is the only undergraduate in NYU’s history to complete a feature film while in school. Justin is the founder, former CEO & Creative Director of Mystic Arts in Beijing. He has been a film professor and art director in the video game industry. He recently finished the feature film, A Lonely Place For Dying – the preview screening of which won the Heineken Red Star at The Santa Fe Film Festival. He has been featured twice in Variety, twice in Moviemaker Magazine, and a mini-doc about his film will be airing on IFC throughout January 2009. Justin is a skilled graphic designer, photographer, production designer, screenwriter, cinematographer, director & producer and currently resides in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

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RE: MANAGING EXPECTATIONS ON THE FESTIVAL CIRCUIT

CLICK HERE TO FOLLOW THE ENTIRE PANEL DISCUSSION ON “MANAGING EXPECTATIONS ON THE FESTIVAL CIRCUIT”.

My short film, Saturday Night Special, was accepted into eight festivals and won awards at two. My feature film, A Lonely Place For Dying, is not yet finished and we’ve already been in four festivals and have won awards at two. Over the course of those 12 experiences, this is what I’ve learned:

1.) Submitting early will save you money but it won’t increase your chances of getting into a festival. There is a myth that applying during the early bird window of a festival’s submission cycle will somehow give your movie an edge. I personally have never experienced this. I’ve also not met anyone who has experienced this. I’ve become friends with Stephen Rubin, who was the Program Director for the Santa Fe Film Festival and now consults for a large number of festivals…and he’s never told me anything like this. However, despite this one should still take advantage of the early bird window to reduce costs.

2.) Overall, submission fees are a scam. There’s no other way to say it. I know about a dozen festival directors. Many of them are fantastic people. I truly appreciate what they do and I understand festivals are always short on capital. But, by and large, if they were honest with themselves they’d agree that the submission fees become part of their festival’s general budget. The people who screen your submission are usually volunteers. Your submission fee does not go directly to pay anyone to screen your movie. Ten years ago festivals received a fraction of the submissions they receive today. Smaller festivals received in the hundreds of submissions…now they receive in the thousands. This resulted in an unintended revenue stream for festivals. The festival industry, as a whole, never planned for this. But, they have certainly taken advantage of it. Because of this, submission fees go up every year…and so do submissions. The result is our submissions finance an ever growing percentage of festival’s expenses. Its unethical. Its exploitative. But, currently there are few ways a filmmaker can work around this.

3.) You will be rejected from festivals. No matter how many laurels your movie has, no matter how many awards you’ve won and no matter how many movie stars your movie has eventually some festival will not accept you. Gospel Hill has been tearing up the festival circuit. It’s directed and produced by actor Giancarlo Esposito. It has a 5 million dollar budget. It stars Angela Bassett, Danny Glover, Julia Stiles & Giancarlo Esposito. It has won awards at nine festivals. And yet, The Ashland Independent Film Festival rejected it (along with my film and a slate of other award winning movies). Why? Only Ashland could tell you why. It certainly had nothing to do with quality nor the ability of our films to sell seats, which is the primary goal of any festival. Poundcake is one of the most celebrated independent films of the year. It was accepted at AFI Fest, which is one of the most important festivals on the planet. And yet, when the director submitted the movie to a small festival in their hometown they were rejected. Why? Again…only that festival can tell you. The Job has been accepted into over 130 festivals. What isn’t mentioned is that the film was also rejected by hundreds of festivals. Great movies have between a 50-75% acceptance rate. Marginal films have a 10%. You’re going to have to apply often if you want to increase the number of festivals your movie will play in. And, you’ll need to research festivals to make sure your movie is the kind of movie they show. If a festival has never shown a horror film then no matter how great your horror movie may be it probably isn’t going to get in.

4.) Screening at a festival is the beginning, not the end. I’ve been lucky, A Lonely Place For Dying sells out screenings with very little effort on my part. I give festivals access to a variety of posters to promote the film and they almost always pick the images with James Cromwell. Once they put a picture of James Cromwell in the brochure my job is practically finished. We know our screening will be filled to 80% capacity with no effort. Saturday Night Special required me to hustle. And, no matter how hard I hustled I was lucky if 20 people were in a theatre watching my movie. If it played before a feature then a larger audience would attend…but they weren’t there for my movie. They were there for the main attraction. As a short filmmaker I was always forgotten during the Q&A. And, that’s disheartening. So, now that my movie is the main attraction I try to create a different experience for whoever is showing a short before my movie. I ask whoever is in charge of my screening to let the short filmmaker have a Q&A before my feature begins. It’s the only way that filmmaker is going to get some attention. If you have made a feature with movie stars then your screenings are going to fill up with ease. If you haven’t then you need to hustle. You need to call radio stations two weeks before a festival to seek interviews, you need to send press releases to local media outlets, you need to arrive early and put up posters in coffee shops and video stores throughout town. The festival cannot promote all the movies it screens. Festivals often have multiple movies screening at the same time. Should this be different? Maybe. But, it is what it is. They’ve provided you with a theatre and a technician to play your movie. You must do all the legwork if you want to get an audience.

5.) Winning awards is arbitrary. Every festival is different. In some, the festival director is a dictator and forces their choices onto their jury. In others, the jury is made of volunteers who don’t know much about filmmaking. I know of a festival in Europe named after a major city in which the entire awards process requires payola. The best you can hope for is that the jurists love movies and pick the ones they love…which doesn’t mean they’ll pick you. I was told by a festival jurist that we would have won best picture at a festival but we were still a work-in-progress and they didn’t feel comfortable giving best in show to an unfinished film. I thought “Wait a minute, you’re telling me my rough version is your favorite movie? What else matters?” Apparently, to them it was a critical voting critera. All I can do is shrug my shoulders.

6.) Playing the festival circuit is a flywheel process. It starts out slow. You have far more rejections when you are first submitting. But, once you are accepted into a festival and win an award it gets easier. Not a lot, but a little. When you win a second award at a different festival it gets easier again. If festival directors discover your film has sold lots of tickets at previous festivals then the flywheel starts to spin. Before you know it, you’ll be getting fee waivers and invitations. But, you’ll be able to manage your emotions better if you truly understand that this process is slow and changes incrementally.

7.) Festivals are not about art. Every festival director will say they love independent film. They love quirky movies with unknown casts. They exist to see small filmmakers take their first step to succeed. I think on some level they all believe this, but the machine of a festival completely contradicts this. A festival requires money to survive. They want sponsors. Sponsors want proof that their advertising will be seen by people and generate sales. That means a festival needs to sell lots of seats. And, selling seats to a festival crowd isn’t terribly different than selling seats to the general public. The potential ticket buyer flips through a thick program guide, wading through hundreds of films and picks a handful to buy tickets for. I’ve deliberately sat in the box office and watched people decide. I sat in the box office of Sedona, Durango, Santa Fe and Sundance…and, what stunned me is that people’s criteria was the same as that of a multiplex. I’d hear comments like “Oh, D.B. Sweeney! I like him! Let’s go set that!” or “Sounds like a downer. I don’t want to be depressed.” or “The photo looks strange. I don’t want to take the risk.” Festival audiences are no different than the general public. They aren’t there to take a risk. They value their time and money…they’re going to make safe choices that they feel will entertain them. Festivals have far less in common with a New York art gallery debut and far more in common with your local multiplex…and you are sabotaging yourself if you treat it any differently. Festivals want proof that your film will sell tickets, which will pay for the theatre and provide data they can give to next year’s potential sponsors.

8.) Techs are crazy. Seriously. They do not want you interfering with your screening. Its their theatre, not yours. And, however you formatted your tape is wrong. You’ve changed your specs for every festival because every other tech has told you the same thing. You’ll tell this to the tech and he’ll say “Yeah, I know that tech. He’s an idiot.” Then, he’ll walk away in a cloud of Asperger’s dysfunction.

9.) Older festivals treat filmmakers well…younger ones don’t. This isn’t a universal rule. I’m sure there are exceptions. But, as you apply to festivals this is an excellent guide to understanding how you’ll be treated as a filmmaker. The Sedona International Film Festival has been around for a decade. They provide hotel rooms for nearly every filmmaker accepted. The hotels are fabulous. The parties are stocked with food. They have a filmmakers lounge where lunch and dinner are provided. On the other end of the spectrum is a three-year old festival in Albuquerque. They require the filmmakers to pay for the lunch at the restaurant next door to the theatre. The awards are rigged. The projectionist transfers all the films to his laptop “to save him time” and refuses to respect the aspect ratio of each film. He just throws them all up on the screen in 16×9. They could care less if a filmmaker shows up…they just want whatever ticket sales they can get.

Why is this important? Because you are broke. You’re not acting like a petulant celebrity who wants a bigger trailer. You’re going to spend money on a plane ticket to fly to a festival in which your movie will make other people money. The festivals that provide a hotel room and food are making this process as inexpensive as possible for you. Those are the festivals to focus on.

I have been in festivals where I feel legitimately valued as a filmmaker. The Santa Fe Film Festival is at the top of the list. They treated my movie with respect and worked incredibly hard to accommodate my crew and actors for screenings, extra badges and access to parties. Members of the staff actually walked up to us and said “I love your movie.” They knew who we were and they cared that we were there.

On the other hand, most festivals I’ve gone to truly believe they are the center of the universe. To some degree, they’re right. They’re going to be there next year…you probably won’t be. Instinctively, they treat this year’s resident filmmakers as the sideshow. They expect you to build a relationship with them. They want you to cater to their needs. Most importantly, they want you to show up for your screening, not complain about the projection, participate in the Q&A…and go home.

A good friend of mine won Best Short at a major festival in Los Angeles. Despite being a winner, he said he felt as if the entire festival catered to the celebrities in the audience. They didn’t have films in competition. They were just ticket buyers. And despite this, it was as if he, the short filmmaker who won best short, wasn’t there.

I’ve won awards at festivals I will never go back to. Ever. A festival, which will rename nameless, gave one of my films a huge award. I was thankful. But, the print traffic controller refused to coordinate with Sedona, a festival five times as old as them. It was obvious their entire staff had massive political problems. The print traffic controller was known for screaming and yelling at fellow staff members…including the festival director. She walked up to me and said “I run this festival. No one else. I don’t care what that bitch told you, this is my show and you do what I say.” A volunteer who has worked for this young festival since its inception said that same person would scream and yell at him until he was in tears. They give awards to filmmakers…but, the biggest award they gave was to a local beer company! It was four feet tall. The beer company received a standing ovation. The greatest error this festival made was in accidentally sending me their entire budget. I kid you not…a festival employee (not volunteer) sent me their annual budget by mistake. This festival claimed they could only provide one night of hotel accommodations to each filmmaker. And, yet, every festival executive was staying for free at the most expensive hotels in town…and they all lived in town. There were line items in the budget for “per diems” given to the festival directors. Each hotel was listed with the total number of days they’d donate to the festival…and the days were allotted to the local residents throwing the festival rather than the filmmakers traveling to attend.

Coincidentally, I sat in the filmmaker’s lounge as the same employee spoke to two people about to start another festival in a neighboring town. Here is how the conversation went:

“So, do you have to give the filmmakers a lot to attend?”

“Well, this has been a bad year because of the recession. But, even in good years we try to think of stuff the filmmakers won’t use. The local ski resort normally kicks in free lift tickets and they love it because they get tons of publicity but only about 20% of the filmmakers actually use the tickets.”

“Hey, that’s a great idea! We have a trolley in town that could do that. There are some restaurants that are open strange hours…I bet we could get them to offer a freebie to the filmmakers. That would be hard to collect.”

“Yeah, and don’t forget any place that already gives stuff away. You just walk in and ask them if they can claim it as a gift to the filmmakers. Then, you can add it to the list. Before you know it, you’ll have a long list of stuff that didn’t cost you anything.”

“That’s fantastic. This sounds really easy!”

That my friends, is how most young, inexperienced festivals actually value us filmmakers. We are exploitable. They’re building a business and we’re the unfortunate appendage attached to the films they wish to profit from. And, the person running that festival is probably considered a celebrity in that town. You’re on their turf.

Final Thoughts:
I have to fight my own urges to be a cynic. I have to remember that festivals like Santa Fe, Sedona and Delray Beach value us. Festivals are like people…most are a disappointment, but the few who are truly exceptional must be treasured. The human brain is built to remember negative experiences more than positive ones. It’s a survival mechanism that predates civilization and often interferes with our ability to perceive our world accurately. I know I struggle with this.

If you are fortunate enough to get into a large number of festivals you will have negative experiences. You will be like my friend’s short film who won at a major LA festival but was treated like an unwanted party guest. I hope you’ll also be treated like I was by Santa Fe and Sedona, where festival employees truly cared about my hotel accommodations and the quality of my screening.

I won the Heineken Red Star at Santa Fe. Some could say that is clouding my judgement. I didn’t win anything at Sedona. I still loved Sedona. Sedona, like Santa Fe, is a class-act festival across the board. After you’ve been to a few festivals you’ll realize that the number one thing a festival can provide your film is laurels for a DVD jacket…but the number one thing they can provide you as a person is eye contact.

CLICK HERE TO FOLLOW THE ENTIRE PANEL DISCUSSION ON “MANAGING EXPECTATIONS ON THE FESTIVAL CIRCUIT”.

JUSTIN EVANS began his first theatre company at 14 and began making films at 15. He is the only undergraduate in NYU’s history to complete a feature film while in school. Justin is the founder, former CEO & Creative Director of Mystic Arts in Beijing. He has been a film professor and art director in the video game industry. He recently finished the feature film, A Lonely Place For Dying – the preview screening of which won the Heineken Red Star at The Santa Fe Film Festival. He has been featured twice in Variety, twice in Moviemaker Magazine, and a mini-doc about his film will be airing on IFC throughout January 2009. Justin is a skilled graphic designer, photographer, production designer, screenwriter, cinematographer, director & producer and currently resides in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

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Common Mistakes (Part One), The Hard Way

I’ve been working on film sets for 22 years. I’ve worked as a director, cinematographer, production designer, producer, actor, camera assistant, and production assistant. I’ve worked on big budget projects like Carlito’s Way. I’ve worked on movies-of-the-week like Terror In The Towers. And, I’ve worked on student films and independents. In total, I’ve probably worked on about sixty sets, many my own, many belonging to someone else. And, as a rental company manager for three years, I’ve rented to an additional forty productions. Through all these productions, I’ve seen the following common mistakes.

MISTAKE #1: HURRY UP AND SHOOT
Most filmmakers misidentify production as the most important phase in making a movie. I see it in rental customers, my film students and many of my friends. It’s tattooed on their forehead: “camera = filmmaking.” This mantra is the #1 reason most movies stink.

Have you conducted camera tests in your sets? Have you tested to see how the colors of a location will be reproduced on your camera? Have you taken stills of your actors in costume? Have you thought out every element of production design, from hairstyles to props? Have you allowed your sound recordist to practice recording audio on location? Have you pre-planned the logistics for each location, including parking plans, traffic plans and identified a backup set in case of inclement weather?

If you answered no to any of these questions, you need to seriously consider that you have not put enough emphasis on pre-production. And, these questions only hint at how massive pre-production should be. I cannot envision making a great short film without at least three months of pre-production. And, I need a year of pre-production for any feature project. Yes, holding a camera in your hands is sexy…but real filmmaking begins during pre-pro. The longer pre-production is, the better your movie will be.

MISTAKE #2: RENTING TOO MUCH GEAR
Usually, this error is born from an inexperienced production team relying on an inexperienced cinematographer to decide what gear is needed for a project. I call this Gizmo X Syndrome. It sounds something like this. “Listen, I’ve been a DP on four shorts at Full Sail. And without Gizmo X we cannot achieve that effect.”

You, the storyteller, desperately want the effect (rain, dust, volumetric lighting, a particular camera angle, etc.) and are therefore convinced that spending more money on expensive gear is your only solution. Trust me when I say this…every filmmaking challenge has more than one solution.

I wanted a tremendous amount of volumetric lighting in A Lonely Place For Dying (also known as god light on most film sets). I wanted thick god rays to stream through windows and doors. The first cinematographer I interviewed insisted that god rays cannot be achieved with anything less than a 10K HMI. I hope that DP sits down and watches our movie, because we achieved the effect with lights as small as 200 watts. Sometimes, we achieved it with natural light. The solution is rather simple…particulate matter is far more important in determining volumetric lighting than the amount or intensity of the light. A simple fog machine and a 5K tungsten will produce massive god rays at a fraction of the price suggested by the cinematographer who insisted a 10K HMI was our only solution.

What this demonstrates is a consistent pattern I’ve seen on most film sets. There is an emphasis on renting expensive gear because no one knows what they’re doing…the producers have never used the gear, the director just wants to tell a story, the cinematographer is in over their head, the production crew is brand new…and everyone believes that if lots of expensive equipment is readily available they’ll be able to replicate the quality they see in expensive Hollywood movies.

The intent is pure, but it stems from insecurity, inexperience and laziness. And, this affects far more than low budget projects. A big budget TV series recently rented a red package from my rental company. The first time they called they said they wanted “A basic red package for a simple two day shoot.” Sounds reasonable. I gave them a quote and told them we’d have to subrent from some Los Angeles vendors but it would be easy to meet their needs…

…then, the DP took them for a ride. He insisted on 16 cases of camera gear. Much of it was redundant. Honestly, does anyone need two tripods? By the time the list was done five camera houses were supplying all the equipment. All of it had to be overnighted from Los Angeles to Albuquerque. The Red One ended up being the least expensive item on the list. And, with each item the DP was screaming at the producers “Without Gizmo X I cannot possibly do this shoot.”

The shoot was a 30 second promo for the TV series. The amount of gear was roughly twice as much camera equipment as required to shoot Carlito’s Way. The producers didn’t understand production well enough to realize the DP wanted training time on the world’s best gear at the producer’s expense. One of my staff members was the DIT and he watched as some of the gear never left its cases, including the massive 18-250 mm Angenieux zoom lens, rushed at the last second from a vendor in LA at an incredibly expensive price…because, of course, the producers had been told without that lens the production would suffer.

That lense, that incredibly important lense, that lense which was never used cost 1,000 dollars in rental and shipping fees. The producers might as well have taken ten 100 dollar bills, rolled ‘em into the shape of a cigar and lit them on fire.

MISTAKE #3: RENTING TOO LITTLE GEAR
This sounds like a contradiction to #2, but it isn’t. As often as I see productions rent gear they’ll never use or expensive gear that doesn’t deliver significantly better results, I also see productions foolishly scrimp on gear absolutely necessary for their movie.

My rental house has a 14′ fully loaded 3-ton truck. Student films often rent large amounts of our gear and then rent a U-Haul because the U-Haul is cheaper than our 3-ton. But, the U-Haul has no shelves. It hasn’t been designed for production gear. The gear fills the floor of their U-Haul, leaving their truck’s upper 8 feet completely empty. The producers are paying to transport empty air. And, when they arrive on set the gear has flopped around the back because it hasn’t been secured properly. Now, the producers have damage fees to take care of.

A properly designed truck is as much a film tool as the cameras and lights. Everything is on secured shelving, making transport easy and organization a breeze. I want to walk on a truck and grab a light…I don’t want to sift through gear on the floor of the truck so I can reach the gear at the back.

This is only one of many examples. I’ve seen projects that want to rent an expensive microphone, but they want to mount it on a painter’s pole. I’ve been on sets that lug around HD monitors that don’t rent furniture blankets or a cart…and the producers are surprised that the monitor ends up damaged. The common theme seems to be “I just want the high-end stuff. Good headphones, a proper boom, furniture blankets, safety straps, label makers, gaff tape, canned air…this stuff is a waste of money. It’s just fluff. It’s just ways for a rental company to make more money off of us.”

Inevitably, these projects damage the most gear and are rarely completed. The lesson here is simple. A well-supplied movie set functions more smoothly and work is completed more efficiently. We’ll all hit a limit on what we can afford. A crew will always ask for more. But, you, the storyteller, need to know gear backwards and forewards so you know why camera tape isn’t superfluous but a 10K HMI might be. Mistake #2 & #3 are inextricably linked. And they share the same solution. Storytellers must know the tools of their craft.

Intern at a local grip & lighting house. Be a PA for free for three months. Donate your time to be around the gear you’re team will eventually use. It may not sound like showbusiness, but you need to get over the red carpet myth. This is a blue collar job. You must know gear…

…or, you can waste money, be short on critical supplies and never achieve your vision at a reasonable price because you relied on the kindness of strangers. It didn’t work for Vivien Leigh and it won’t work for you, either.

MISTAKE #4: CASTING LOCAL
I’m from Portland, Oregon. Portland loves to believe it has a vibrant theater scene. Because of this there are hundreds of actors in the Portland area…but, I had to learn the hard way that every great actor born and raised in Portland, Oregon moved away, never to return until they are already established and represented by a Los Angeles agent.

Think about it. If you were an actor, you were serious about your craft, you really wanted to earn a good living at being an actor and you had the confidence that you could compete with other actors and get the job…would you stay in a small town with nothing to offer but local TV commercials, dinner theater and the random extra job? That’s not a career. That’s a hobby. The great actors left. They moved to Los Angeles and New York. They grew tired of the limited opportunities in their home town and decided moving far away was their best shot at building a career for themselves. Someday, they’ll move back…after they’ve become famous and they no longer have to audition to get work. Until then, they know they need to be where most auditions are.

Most projects self-destruct with this single misunderstanding. They believe “actors are actors” and cast local. I’ve lived in Spokane, Seattle, Portland, Ashland, Albuquerque, San Francisco, Beijing, Chennai and Guadalajara. Not one of those cities has an indigenous acting pool capable of delivering the depth and breadth necessary for making a great movie.

Let’s put this another way. Let’s say you’re from Albuquerque, a city of about 650,000 people. And, you say to yourself “That’s a lot of people. Someone here must know how to act. How tough can acting be? I’m sure someone with superstar skills lives in this city. There are people who act every weekend in local productions. They get practice all the time…and practice equals experience. Not everyone who has amazing skills left this town.” Now, take the word “acting” out and put in the word “baseball.” Seriously. It’s a fair comparison. Do you think someone who can pitch 95 MPH, has a mean curve ball and can strike out the world’s best batters is playing in a weekend league at a city park in Albuquerque, New Mexico?

Of course the answer is no. If they knew they had the skill to become a major league baseball player and they had the head for the game, then they moved away. They spent years in the minors, touring from town to town. They weren’t afraid to take risks with their life. They had confidence in their skills and knew they could become a major league baseball player, despite the odds.

Acting is the same. The actors at your local theatre company mean well…but, they aren’t of the same caliber as the actors who left Colorado Springs, Spokane, Ashland, Key West or Houston and moved to Los Angeles because they believed in their skills and wanted more from their career than their home town could offer. And, those are the only actors you should be casting.

Cost is not a factor. Many local filmmakers believe the costs involved are incredibly high, but that’s simply not true. Almost all of the casting process can be done in your pajamas from your computer by using www.breakdownservices.com. If you have no budget at all, you can request actors to audition via videotape or youtube. You’ll get a lower response rate, but you’ll still get better actors than you can get in your hometown. If you have some money, you can put together a fantastic audition without leaving LAX. Budget a round trip plane ticket, stay at a hotel within walking distance of LAX, rent a conference room in that hotel and hold your audition there. Stay for three days, hold auditions for 12 hours a day and you can videotape 300 actors in person. Split the costs with another filmmaker to lower your expenses. Do whatever you can to make this stage affordable for you because this will transform your project.

Your movie can be lit poorly, be shot in boring locations, have average sound design, lack the scope or epic nature of a studio film, have a rather tepid score, have simple opening and closing credits…but, it cannot have poor acting. If the acting sucks, the project is doomed.

Even as I write this, I know I’ll convince less than 1% of the filmmakers who ever read this. This common mistake is incredibly persistent. I’ve been screaming in the wind about this problem for years. I’ve shown people receipts in an attempt to prove how inexpensive it is, but the costs are dismissed because the filmmaker doesn’t actually value this process. If one starts off with the bias that acting isn’t difficult, that locals are just as good as anyone else, that filmmaking is about camera shots, that great acting can’t be achieved by anyone but celebrity actors and therefore all unknown actors are the same then my argument will never win. What I’m suggesting is time consuming. No matter how affordable the process may be, it is far more expensive than casting locals. The cost-benefit analysis appears totally whacked.

If you are one of those people, please believe me when I say this. Acting is everything to your movie. Absolutely everything. The better the acting in your film the better your film will be. And, until you become a disciple of great actors you will never make a great movie.

FINAL THOUGHTS
I learned every one of these lessons the hard way. I rented the wrong gear. I skimped in the wrong areas. I didn’t plan enough. I cast local. But, unlike most filmmakers, I made these mistakes when I was a teenager. Because of that, I often talk about filmmakers in term of “Film Years.” Someone can be 50 but be a two year old if they only have two years of experience. Conversely, I have a 19 year old visual effects artist working on A Lonely Place For Dying…but, in film years he is seven. I’m only four years old in visual effects…he trumps my knowledge any day of the week.

I’d like to believe I can save you the pain and frustration caused by these common mistakes. But, that may not be possible. In the end, the only thing that may be possible is that you are prepared to recognize these mistakes once you commit them.

If that proves to be true, that’s an acceptable (albiet disappointing) result. If it means you make these errors on one movie instead of five, as I have done, then this article well still be worth the time and effort.

And, don’t think for a second these mistakes are the only ones. Oh, boy. I gots more to write. We’ll save the next list for another day…

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Sedona International Film Festival

I’m exhausted from all the fun. Seriously.

My wife and I decided to turn the Sedona International Film Festival into a family vacation. The festival provided us with a free suite at Sedona Real. We had two all-access film badges. Breakfast was provided at the hotel. The festival provided us lunch and dinner. What a fantastic way for our family to have a week-long vacation in one of the most beautiful places in the world! We invited my aunt to join us. This was also the first time we’ve gone on a vacation with our three-year old son, David.

SUNDAY
We arrived in time for the Sunday night Oscar party. They projected the Oscars in a 120 seat movie theatre. Wine and champagne flowed with abandon.

MONDAY
The festival completed final preparations. I drove to Phoenix to pick up my aunt who was returning from a two week excursion in Mexico.

TUESDAY
The festival officially begins! The first party is crazy. I’m a bit overwhelmed. My son is overstimulated and can’t fall to sleep. We begin the first of many sleepless nights.

WEDNESDAY
I arrive at the box office to discover both screenings of A Lonely Place For Dying have sold out! Considering we’re up against Oscar-winning animator Bill Plimpton’s new feature as well as Tom Hanks’ newest film I’m stunned. Wednesday night’s screening is a fantastic success. I still find the experience surreal. It’s very weird sitting in a theatre with 100 people watching my own movie.

THURSDAY
Because David had another sleepless night we’re all exhausted. My wife and I take a cat nap and then we leave David with my aunt. We see The Brothers Warner, a fantastic documentary by the granddaughter of the founders of Warner Bros. Then, we see Singing In The Rain on the big screen for the first time! Robert Osborne from Turner Classic Movies hosts the screening. The man is a living encyclopedia of film knowledge! We join in a lengthy Q&A about the movie, about musicals and about Hollywood’s golden age. Then, we go to another party…exhausted, we return to our hotel late at night.

FRIDAY
David is still wired. He just can’t sleep well in a hotel yet. It’s too much for him. He’s up at 6 AM ready to take on the world. We’re exhausted. This fun is wearing us out.

We see Giancarlo Esposito’s Gospel Hill. Then, we go out to dinner with him and a large entourage. Giancarlo is one of my favorite actors. He was also a constant guest lecturer at NYU. I’ve always considered him a “part-time professor” because of how much I learned from him while I was in film school. It is a bit surreal to be throwing back saki, and chowing down on orange peel chicken with Detective Jack Baer from The Usual Suspects. We then attend a gala party at the Hilton.

SATURDAY
David has had another rough night. Instead of waking up early, he simply couldn’t sleep. We’re exhausted. We decided to drive home after my Saturday night screening. The theatre is packed. We have one walk-out…I read her comments on her ballot. Too much swearing and too much death. Well, the title of the film is A Lonely Place For Dying and the poster has two men pointing guns at each other. What part of our advertising campaign wasn’t clear?

The rest of the audience loves the movie. They know it is a work-in-progress, that we haven’t finished the sound design, music or visual effects. They still love the movie. At every screening we are told by at least one audience member that they think the movie doesn’t need music. While I appreciate the remark, I disagree. We do need music. I think they’re identifying that the dialogue and acting are so strong that they carry the story forward on their own…that most movies rely on music to save the story. We don’t need that. It is a good movie as is…but, a killer score will take the film to the next level.

We pack up and drive home. What a great festival experience! I’m exhausted, but I’m thankful that my life now includes such amazing opportunities that I can share with my family.

Today is my birthday. I’m not doing anything at all. I’m going to sit. Maybe I’ll shift from one side of the couch to the other. I don’t need a party. I just had seven.

I gotta rest…I leave for Durango later this week.

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