Filmmaking – Upside Down & Inside Out

Winding Up, Going into the Pitch….

December 4th, 2011

You’ve done all your work and you’re finally ready to do some face time with your investor. Before you get too comfortable, face this. Your investor (or funder or distributor) is very busy, probably a whole lot busier than you. (If not, you’re probably meeting with the wrong person.)

Worse, there’s a line of people behind you, all waiting for their turn. And even worse than that, you only have FIVE MINUTES to make your impression, make your pitch and make your way back out again.

Heart stopping, ain’t it?

At its heart, this is that elevator speech* you’ve always feared. The stuff of nightmares. Your whole life boiled down to five blood-pounding, heart-stopping minutes.

* The elevator doors close and you’re alone with The Money. The Money smiles and asks “so what brings you here….” All you have are your wits, your pitch and the time it takes to get from the ground floor to the executive suite.

Now how in the world are you going to do that…?  Pretty easily actually. If you’ve done your homework.

Unlike your imaginary elevator companion, your investor is not there by fluke. Your potential investor has agreed to meet with you because there’s a problem that needs fixing. You’re in this meeting to solve that problem. Maybe your investor just needs a good investment. Or happens to be on the lookout for new opportunities. Or might even have a tale to tell the world….

You have to know exactly why. That’s your job here. If you don’t know the investor’s problem, you’re delivering your pitch way, way, way too soon.

Of course you know why YOU’RE there. You want money, in one form or another (cash, sponsorship, grants, maybe product placement, distribution, even a contract). But you also have to know why this investor is meeting with you. (I can promise you, it’s not because you asked nicely.)

Before you step into that elevator (office, boardroom, whatever) you have to come equipped with all the solutions to your investor’s problems. As long as you keep your focus on your investor, you’re going to do just fine. Chatter on about the wonderful story you want to tell, you’ll go home empty-handed and probably heartbroken, too.

Here’s a barebones structure for your five minutes. These first two will go quickly.

1.    Introduce yourself
2.    Acknowledge the investor’s previous work
3.    Discuss current cinema as it applies to your film
4.    Describe your film, casting, producer & director

Three minutes to go and they should all belong to business.

5.    How will this project solve the investor’s needs
6.    What’s the DEAL you’re offering
7.    Where will profits come from
8.    What’s the anticipated ROI

That’s it, you’re done and this meeting is over. Stand up. Shake hands, hand over your business card, your deck, and any leave-behinds. And leave. Don’t even think about lingering like a teenager on a first date. No kissing will ensue no matter how long you stand and shuffle. Get up and get out.

Can you really do this?  Of course you can.

Think how much information gets crammed into one thirty-second TV commercial. The secret is careful planning and endless rehearsal. Hone, trim, think, rehearse. Then start all over and do it again.

Gather criticism like manna. Rewrite, revise, rethink and rehearse yet again. And again and again.

That’s all it takes. Three very basic steps.

  1. Get your pitch down pat.
  2. Know who you’re talking to.
  3. Never pitch until you’re really, really ready. 

And relax, too. No one gives money to a nervous filmmaker.

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“Winding Up, Going Into the Pitch” was originally
published by the New York Times’ site, Baseline, as
“Winding up, going into the pitch…” in their Research Wrap Blog.
It is still available at that location.

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Posted by Norman in Baseline, Budget, Filmmaking, Pitch, Sales | No Comments »

The Business Ain’t Called Show Show….

November 15th, 2011

“Hi,” someone emailed the other day as if she really knew me.  “I have a terrific story ready to make into a wonderful film; all I need are investors….”  It went on a bit, but that was the crux of things.  I would have loved to help, but this wannabe producer was 180 degrees off.

First off, just to get it out of the way, hardly anyone sets out to make a bad film from a terrible story (Max Bialystok aside, but that’s quite another story).  It’s like announcing “my camera will use a lens.” So what should have been said? If show business isn’t all about art, where should new filmmakers be focused.

Business, not show.  Art be damned, it’s all about the money.

I know that sounds terribly mercenary of me, but if you won’t worry about the money, no one will give you any to make your film.  It’s that simple. Before investors part with the money you need, they want to know who’s going to pay to see the finished film.  And where viewers will find out about your film.  And how you’ll collect all that money they’re so eager to pay.

What investors really want to know is how and when they’ll get their ROI. 

ROI

Now that’s an acronym to conjure with. It stands for Return on Investment and your comfort in explaining it will determine your success (or failure) at fund-raising. Here’s the bottom line – if you don’t know (or can’t show) exactly how your film will turn a profit, you’re not ready to make your film.

“I’m ready, I’m really, really ready,” you scream.  Okay, you may be ready, but you still won’t get funded if you can’t explain ROI. If you’re not looking out for profits, you don’t have a chance of getting your  investments.

“Investment,” you bellow back at me. “Profits,” you spit as if it were the eighth dirty word. “My film’s educational, informational, a piece of art. I work through a non-profit corporation, I’m a 501(c)3….”

Oh, hush, little puppy, “profits” are measured in myriad ways.  And money is often among the least interesting.  Think about all the profits that come from knowledge, consider all the value in teachers’ guides and websites, seminars and lectures, screenings and appearances, training and promotion…. Think about exposure, think about community outreach.

Think about sales, too. Whether you measure your profits in dollars or dogma, you’re still expected to deliver the golden ROI.

Your job as a producer is to know (and explain) how your investors will see some return on the money they put in your project. Your job is to answer the eternal question, “What’s in it for me….”

Getting to that answer takes a lot of work. But so does every aspect of making a film. We may love the business, but filmmaking is hard work and knowing how to deal with money is how the process begins.

Want your film funded?  Instead of SHOW, think BUSINESS.  Send me an email that begins “I have a story that’s primed for profits and I’d like to explain how I plan to go about getting it….”  Now you have my attention.

—————————————————————————————–

“This Business Ain’t Called Show Show” was originally
published by the New York Times’ site, Baseline, as
“First Business, Then Show” in their Research Wrap Blog.
It is still available at that location.

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Posted by Norman in Baseline, Budget, Filmmaking, Networking, Pitch, Sales | No Comments »

All the News that’s Unfit to Print

April 25th, 2011

So many events go unreported every week. No more, I say – our Faux News is just as good as the next wholly owned subsidiary of Big Business.  It’s time these stories are finally told.  So here’s what our intrepid reporter has imagined he’s heard….

The news from Hollywood

  • In a surprise announcement, major Hollywood studios announced a two week paid vacation for film crews throughout America.  According to their YouTube presentation, the offer was made in the hopes of reversing capricious union rules that have slowed big business.  “Without unions in our way, we can finally give the little people what they deserve,” said a representative.
  • An industry representative announced the opening of several new Mary Hartman Theatre Theatres.  The new chain will feature extremely shiny floors and provide free popcorn.  While ticket prices are expected to rise, sodas will hold the line at $15.
  • Theatre owners voiced enthusiasm for including more commercials during film screenings.  20 minutes of commercials, known as Sponsored H Informational Theatre will interrupt each movie three times during its showing.  To offset this added hour of important visuals, it is strongly suggested that theatrical films be limited to 45 minutes or less.

The word from the World of Politics

  • Under the looming threat of a tax on the wealthy, California has made each letter of the Hollywood sign available for rental. The letter “O” is now frequently used as a grill at large barbeques and the “Y” was recently worn by Lady Gaga.
  • The GOP controlled legislature has introduced a bill to eliminate all taxes on large corporations. “It’s time we get government off the backs of big business.  Corporations should never be forced to pay a tax penalty for doing their jobs right.”  To offset the loss of income to the Federal coffers, Republican strategists plan to eliminate Congress and close the White House. Fortunately , they have preserved their full pensions and free health care.

And Busineses rush right in

  • World renown Grauman’s Chinese Theatre will open two new sections of its famed Hollywood Walk of Fame.  The larger plot is reserved for the stars of films appearing on YouTube. A separate section honors all those who have not made films, but would have liked to.
  • In a sweeping public relations move known as “Opt-In to Opt-Out,” Facebook will provide an option for members to have their misappropriated identities returned.  Applauded by privacy advocates, the program is currently on hold while Facebook determines why each of the first 75 million people received information about all the other members.

And that’s the news we need to know. Need to know more? Our worldwide headquarters maintains a basket full of other equally important stories.

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Posted by Norman in Hollywood | 1 Comment »

Making Every Resume Count: The First Dozen Steps

April 9th, 2011

We churn out résumés by the ream, especially in lean time. If you’re looking for better results, you’ll need to make each résumé matter more, not just keep sending out more of them.

TResumehe most important job of a resume is to let producers know that you have the solutions to their problems. If your resume doesn’t explain that, loudly and clearly, it’ not worth sending.

The first task is making the first cut.

1. Don’t apply unless you’re qualified. You waste your own time, but even worse, you’ll annoy the hell out of everyone who reads your information. Next time your résumé shows up, even if you happen to be qualified, your résumés will get dumped.

2. Résumés should be designed to fit each specific job. Every keyword in the job description should be in your résumé. If the show is searching for a gaffer who does night exteriors, make sure your résumé mentions night, and exterior and gaffer, too. (And when you find a show that’s looking for a Chief Electrician, change your résumé to suit.)

3. Find something that sets you apart from the crowd.  A short, sharp way to introduce yourself.  When the field is overcrowded, “Mary Jones – Director” isn’t enough.  Use about five or six words at the top of your résumé, right under your name.  That’s your spot to explain why you’re the best person for the job.

Examples might include “Award-Winning” or “ARRI Alexa Expert” or….

4. Make a space above your credits for a sentence or two that explains how you can solve the producer’s problems.  Don’t know the problems?  It’s probably not the job for you.  Don’t tell producers they should hire you, tell them WHY.

Keep your writing simple and focused. I was looking for a key grip – this cover letter provided a day of laughs, but no work for the writer:

“My natural aptitude for synthesis, strengthened by my intrinsic ability for creativity and reinforced by my experiences, should enable me to effectively fulfill the assigned job.”

To be effective, a résumé needs fewer words and more information.

5. Think in terms of results, not job titles (especially if your résumé is thin).  Talk about the contributions you made to the success of the last show. Did the show win awards? Did you? That’s what’s important.

Sending your resume isn’t enough.

6. Job applications come in three parts: (1) the cover letter, (2) the résumé and (3) the follow-up.  The first two go as a unit.  Don’t recycle canned letters; discuss this specific job and let your voice come through.

Not enough personality to write a good cover letter?  Don’t expect very interesting work.

After sending your cover letter and resume, wait a few days, then follow up with an email.  Reiterate your interest in the project or add a fact.  Skip the phone call unless it’s requested; that’s way too intrusive for most jobs.

7. Give your résumé a name.  “Résumé Tuesday” isn’t very helpful to anyone but you.  Your file name should include your name and your job.  “Sam Smith – Director” makes everyone’s job a lot easier.  And that’s your first job.

8. You may really be a heaven-sent-hyphenate, a gaffer-grip-DP-gofer-editor-scriptie, but that’s more than you want anyone to know.  Unless you’re applying for a no-budget, wear-every-hat kind of show, pick your role and stick with it.  Producers want to hire someone who’s really good at ONE job.  Send one résumé for your one best shot.

9. Don’t pepper the office with résumés.  When they flood in, one for the DP, another to the director, a couple to the POC, they ALL get dumped.  Pay attention to the job request;  it will tell you the only person who needs to get your résumé.

Be adept at your own language.  If your resume is filled with errors, it’s likely your work will be, too.

10. If you’re applying for a job that requires writing and language skills – jobs like the scriptie or POC, make sure your writing and language skills are up to the task.  No spelling errors, no grammatical errors, no typos. 

Proofreed befor you send; never telle anyone too sea you’re web sight.

11. Skip the BS. Don’t blather on with irrelevancies. All your information gets about 20 seconds to impact the producer’s brain. That’s your only window to explain why you’re the solution to the producer’s problems. And that’s no BS.

12. Use words very carefully and sparingly. Of course you’re “detail oriented” and “skillful” and “effective.” Of course you’re adept at “Word.”  So is everyone else.  Skip the superlatives, list your jobs and explain the results you achieved.

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Posted by Norman in Crew, Filmmaking, Hollywood, Networking | 1 Comment »

Dangerous Ingredients

March 22nd, 2011

Foodie that I am, I belong to almost as many food sites as film groups. The hope is that one or the other will deliver a never-ending orgy of delights, either for my stomach or my brain. Today wasn’t quite as good a day.

The food conversation wandered to my favorite drink from an ice cream chain. Something delightfully sinful, something, alas, I’d been known to chug to the point of brain-freeze on hot summer days. Who am I kidding? Cold winter days, too.

Today I got a list of its contents and nutritional values.

Each large drink has over 2300 calories, enough to feed a horse of a man for a hard-working day. The same cup holds 108 grams of fat, (60% of it the bad, bad, bad kind, a heart attack delivery system). Cholesterol tops 295mg; there are 303 grams of carbs (poor Dr. Atkins); over half a pound of sugar and, insult to injury, most of a day’s allotment of sodium, too.

All this bad news comes from a collection of 73 ingredients, many with names unknown or hidden in secret jargon. (There’s no telling the contents of catchalls like “artificial flavors.”) Curious? I asked for a cooling drink and this is the crap delivered. Maybe I should appreciated the slimming start of “reduced fat milk.

reduced fat milk, heath bar crunch ice cream (cream, nonfat milk, caramel ribbon (corn syrup, sweetened condensed whole milk (milk, sugar), water, high fructose corn syrup, butter (cream, salt), propylene glycol, sodium alginate, salt, natural and artificial vanilla flavors, potassium sorbate (preservative), soy lecithin, annatto color, sodium bicarbonate, propyl paraben (preservative)) , heath® bar candy pieces [milk chocolate (sugar, cocoa butter, chocolate, nonfat milk, milk fat, lactose, soy lecithin (an emulsifier), salt, and vanillin (an artificial flavoring)), sugar, palm oil, dairy butter (milk), almonds, salt, artificial flavoring, and soy lecithin], sugar, corn syrup, toffee base (sweetened condensed whole milk, high fructose corn syrup, corn syrup, water, natural flavor, disodium phosphate, and salt), whey powder, cellulose gum, mono and diglycerides, guar gum, carrageenan, polysorbate 80), fudge topping (corn syrup, sugar, water, hydrogenated coconut oil, nonfat milk, cocoa (treated with alkali), modified corn starch, salt, sodium bicarbonate, disodium phosphate, potassium sorbate (a preservative), natural and artificial flavors, soy lecithin), jamoca ice cream (cream, nonfat milk, sugar, corn syrup, jamoca extract (coffee extract, sugar, potassium sorbate and methyl paraben (as preservatives)) whey, caramel color, cellulose gum, mono and diglycerides, carrageenan, polysorbate 80, carob bean gum, guar gum), caramel praline topping (corn syrup, sweetened condensed whole milk, water, sugar, modified food starch, butter, salt, propylene glycol, natural and artificial flavor, sodium citrate, xanthan gum, lecithin, potassium sorbate and propyl paraben as preservatives), hershey’s® heath® milk chocolate english toffee (milk chocolate (sugar, cocoa butter, chocolate, nonfat milk, milk fat, lactose, soy lecithin [an emulsifier], salt, and vanillin [an artificial flavoring]), sugar, palm oil, dairy butter (milk), almonds, salt, artificial flavoring, and soy lecithin), whipped cream (whipped cream (cream, milk, sugar, dextrose, nonfat dry milk, artificial flavor, mono & diglycerides, carrageenan, mixed tocopherols (vitamin e), to protect flavor, propellant: nitrous oxide).

Okay, say you, it was my choice to drink this glop. Who cares what abuse I may choose to dump into my body. And gee, golly, gosh what does this have to do with movies anyway?

We’re being fed equivalent sugar-coated pap from Hollywood. (“Hollywood” being the generic term for that mystical place where movies were once made.) Just as milkshakes used to come from milk, a few simple ingredients and a good shake, once-upon-a-time movies provided a distilled reality we called “art” or “humor” or a damn good time.

Things like “a good story” or “a gripping thriller” have been replaced with the jiggery-pokery of movie descriptions. Get a load of these ingredients from the local paper, listing the current slate of must-see-movies.

Extinction, conquest, lack of mercy, murder, tyranny, crude sexual content, graphic nudity, pervasive language, drug use, violence, murderous demons, killing, “evildoers must die in order to create a better society,” devastating weapons, nefarious villains, partial nudity, crudity, bloodshed, weird encounters, life-and-death struggles.”

I’d go along with the “life-and-death struggle.” That sounds like a real movie theme. But why in the world does “pervasive language” get noted. Like “artificial flavor,” it’s undoubtedly code for things unwanted, unknown and unknowable.

And that’s what gets me. We permit restaurants to serve poison. I mean artery-clogging, brain numbing, heart-stopping foods. Do we rank restaurants UHC (unfit for human consumption) or LF (for lack of flavor) or TD (tacky decor)? Of course not. That would be, uh, totally realistic, medically sound and mostly un-American.

Se we allow our citizens to ingest foods with unknown ingredients, but label the hell out of our movies. And what is it we’re worrying about? Art, you say? Don’t be silly.

It seems we employ a gang of perverts to search for vulgarity of every sort in every frame of every film. Mind you, nary a thought to quality or value or art. Minds kept empty and safe from sin, we line up at concession stands and cram our bodies with unknown food-like substances.

Meanwhile, back at the movies, the perverts are warning people about bad words and, heavens to mergatroid, the barest hint of a bare breast glimpsed through gossamer. Does anyone actually care? Let me rephrase that. Does anyone in his (or her) right mind actually care?

Films are tagged PG or R or the Voldemort of all ratings, the NR. All for the sin of reality. For the sin of flesh. For the sin of mortal love. Instead of “humanity” or “quality” or “reality” what does the MPAA worry about? Here’s a quick rundown of the things to fear.

Sexual content, nudity, crude and sexual humor, a drug reference, suggestive content, violence, smoking, strong language and heavens to mergatroid, pervasive language.

Someone thinks it’s okay to fill out minds and bodies with unspeakable, unpronounceable filth. Artificial flavors and murderous demons. But worries about what we might SEE. Blood, death and mindless mutilation are just fine for children of all ages, thank you very much, but be very wary of watching too much kissing or bare skin because it can lead to…. Well, you know.

Where’s the part that says “good movie” or “brain freeze ahead.” Why do we worry about every bare breast, but give nary a glance to ideas, reality, thought, feelings, charm, wit.”

Nobody worries about movies being good. Just not naked or filled with “pervasive language.” Who notes that the flavor’s all gone? Except for Scott and Ebert and others of their ilk, few worry about wit or charm or (forgive me) that deep-down, old-fashioned, real, honest-to-god flavor we used to love so much.

Or talent. We measure talent these days, it seems, by the dollar. Actors have grown as greedy as oil magnates and about as responsible. But that’s another diatribe.

Meanwhile, back at the multiplex, there’s little hope of getting the concession stand to feed us real food. No one really gives a damn. We’re too busy defending our right to bare fat arms and big bellies. So bad food is just fine, especially when eaten in the dark.

But we pretend to care so much about the movies we SEE in the dark. So here’s my proposal.

Let’s give our foods a simple minded, movie quality rating. G for good. B for bad. And C for crap. We can even include explanations modeled after our movie ratings – too much sugar, killer quantities of fat, incomprehensible amounts of salt and so on.

And now with foods safely categorized, let’s move on to really rate our movies with ratings that matter to REAL people. There’s BD (for Brain Dead), MR (Morally Reprehensible) and PPPPP (Piss-Poor Plot Poorly Performed). Of all, the P-Set is the worst; no one wants their movie to get a pee-pee rating.

We all grew so excited by Juno a few years back. Sure, everyone knew the premise was too cute for reality, the dialogue too smart for its own good and the conclusion as neatly wrapped as a baby spoon from Tiffany. But people actually spoke to each other. They listened to each other and cared; they touched and felt real emotions. It was almost as if they were, imagine, real live humans with real live lives. Problems be damned, it was glorious to watch.

Now that’s a rating we all can live with – GW (Glorious to Watch).

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Posted by Norman in Film Ratings, Filmmaking, Food | 1 Comment »

Twelve Steps to Freelance Survival

February 24th, 2011

Wandering minstrels, that’s what we are.  Indie filmmaking has done that to us.  We move from job to job, working wherever work rears its pretty little head.  We love the glamor and glitz of The Business, but the best of us grows weary of the road, never knowing where the next road will lead or when we’re due to pack up this one and leave for the next.

Freelance survival ain’t easy.  But it sure is a whole lot better than anything else I’ve found.

From time to time I’ve wandered into a full time job with a stable salary.  I marvel at the easiness of the work.  Suddenly my nights are free.  Weekends, too.  There’s a real vacation with pay.  And a check at the end of every week. No job hunting, no butterflies at the end of every month.  It’s amazing.  Does everyone know about this?

Terribly boring, alas, but amazing still.

No matter the hiatus, I always return to freelancing, love struck and happy to be home.  Over too many years, the highs and lows have leveled into familiar patterns, waves I’ve learned to ride.  Even at its worst, I miss it when it’s gone.

So what’s my secrets for survival?  Here’s the top dozen things I’ve learned.

  1. Being freelance is not the same as being unemployed, no matter what your mother tells you.  This is a full-time job, 24/7.  Head up, shoulders back.
  2. Save some money.  Not easy when next week’s funds are uncertain.  But even a  buck or two stashed away every day can add up quite nicely after 20 years or so.
  3. No matter how good (or slick) your accountant may be, pay your taxes.  And when you’re hired, you’re an employee no matter what the producers may tell you.  Don’t let them get away with avoiding their share of your taxes.  That’s YOUR money they’re trying to steal.
  4. Take a vacation.  Go on, you’ve earned it.  Take 10% of whatever you’ve saved this year and blow it.  (Sorry, I meant to say, INVEST it in a business trip. ) Bad year?  Spend two weeks eating Hagan Daaz and watching matinees, but take a break.
  5. Take copious notes.  Your career depends on their accuracy.  Organize meticulously; it’s the only way you can reach the people you need when you really need to reach them.
  6. Know the things you need to know, whatever your field.  Stay atop every new wave.  Budget for seminars and expos, too.  Like I said, this job is 24/7.
  7. Learn the things you don’t need to know.  No one needs to know someone who only knows the bare essentials of the craft.  There’s bread; and then there’s cake.  Learn to savor them both.
  8. Never get sloppy.  Dress for work.  Sit up in your chair.  Everyone you call can feel your mood; everyone knows what you’re wearing.  No, really, they do.  Hey, YOU, sit up!
  9. Follow through.  Your leads are your lifeblood and they deserve a “please” and a “thank you.”  Want real impact? Send a real handwritten letter.  With real spelling.  CUL8R may be cute to your friends, but it’s a PITA to all your business associates.  Think business, not BS.
  10. Spend your spare time teaching whatever you know.  Sharing your smarts is easy without any loss to you.  Even better, that’s how you become known as an expert.
  11. Fill your personal toolkit with business essentials.  And personal frivolities, too.  A framed pictures of someone you love.  (No true love?  You’ve been on the road way too long.)  Speakers for sound.  WiFi for the world and a mini-printer to get it all down.  Whatever.  Just stay connected to your universe.
  12. Everyone has quite enough problems already.  Don’t add your own.  If you want to work again, be the one who brings in the solutions.

Are there another dozen?  Probably that and many more.  So now that you’ve seen mine, why not show me yours?

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Posted by Norman in Filmmaking, Hollywood, Networking, Sales | No Comments »

Mr. Smith Makes a Pizza Pie

January 6th, 2011

Pizza night.  That’s usually my job.  Been working on the crust for, oh, let’s say forever.  And finally settled on my vision of perfection.  Like a Woody Allen movie, there’d be no point in changing things once the formula was right.

Except tonight, my stomach had no time for rising dough and my brain had slipped into its standby mode.  So Alicia and I went off to Black Sheep, the town’s newest, most heavily hyped, boundlessly ballyhooed, Black Sheep Logoprimo pizzeria.

Black Sheep (named for no discernible reason except its trés cute logo) is the love child of local chef, Jordon Smith.  Trained for twenty years at local upscale eateries, he worked his way up the food chain from kitchen help to Executive Chef.  Loving – even as he mastered high-end gourmet – that simplest of street foods, the humble pizza pie.

Love taught him that truly great pizza needs – among many other things – a truly great oven.  Which turned out to be a mega-buck coal burning behemoth that could hold its temperature at a mind-searing 800 degrees.

About the price of a new Red and just as hot. Funny how ever business has its paragon.

Smith brought his hot mama on home and taught himself how to use it.  The pizza lover in me mourns the many pies that died before he finally mastered the intricacies of the crust.  Then it was time for the toppings, each carefully hand-crafted, adjusted and weighed so it would be enhanced by the unforgiving forge he used.  And by now, you can believe that the pizza-lover in me was really pissed with impatience.

When all the little pieces were in place, Smith flung up the doors and invited the public to his show.  And the rest is pizza legend, a pie as fine as anyone has seen around here.  Or around almost anywhere, I’d imagine, though I haven’t been everywhere.  I ate far too much.  I have a tendency to do that when I’m around really good food.

Some of you may be pleased that my dinner went so well.  But most, I’m sure, are wondering why I’ve driveled on so long about a thing like pizza.  Thing is, I wasn’t really talking about pizza at all, though it was a very tasty metaphor.

I’m talking about learning craft.  And how that leads to art.  And that ain’t drivel.

Want to know how to make a really good film…?  You go about it about the same way Mr. Smith went about making his pizza.  Slowly. Carefully. With lots of training. From the bottom up, learning the craft, studying, testing, trying, finding the courage to fail, having the smarts to dump your failures and move on, always aware you’re working with something hot enough for creation and deadly enough for destruction.

Had Mr. Smith opened his pizzeria while still green from some short-ends culinary school, odds are good whatever he turned out would have been bad.  Or, at least, nowhere near as gob-smacking GOOD as what he delivered last night.  Maybe he’d have survived, won a few food festivals and carved out a bit of living.

Fortunately for everyone who’s tasted the state of his art, he took the time to learn his craft.  And made a thousand hungry fans happy in the process, delivering fine food, I mean DAMN fine food that borders on art, a feast for heart and soul.

All in all, Mr. Smith puts on a very tasty show for the young wannabes who should be taking home this extra tidbit with their takeaway pizzas.  If you want art, real art, learn HOW before rushing out to DO.  There’s already enough bad pizza (and bad film) in the world.  Wouldn’t it be better to learn how to do it right instead of just getting it done.

 

 

 

Mr. Smith Makes a Pizza Pie

 

Pizza night. That’s usually my job. Been working on the crust for, oh, let’s say forever. And finally settled on my vision of perfection. Like a Woody Allen movie, there’d be no point in changing things once the formula was right.

 

Except tonight, my stomach had no time for rising dough and my brain had slipped into its standby mode. So Alicia and I went off to Black Sheep, the town’s newest, most heavily hyped, boundlessly ballyhooed, primo pizzeria.

 

Description: Black Sheet LogoBlack Sheep (named for no discernable reason except its trés cute logo) is the love child of local chef, Jordon Smith. Trained for twenty years at local upscale eateries, he worked his way up the food chain from kitchen help to Executive Chef. Loving — even as he mastered high-end gourmet — that simplest of street foods, the humble pizza pie.

 

Love taught him that truly great pizza needs — among many other things — a truly great oven. Which turned out to be a mega-buck coal burning behemoth that could hold its temperature at a mind-searing 800 degrees.

 

About the price of a Red and just as hot. Funny how ever business has its paragon.

 

Smith brought his hot mama on home and taught himself how to use it. The pizza lover in me mourns the many pies that died before he finally mastered the intricacies of the crust. Then it was time for the toppings, each carefully hand-crafted, adjusted and weighed so it would be enhanced by the unforgiving forge he used. And by now, you can believe that the pizza-lover in me was really pissed with impatience.

 

When all the little pieces were in place, Smith flung up the doors and invited the public to his show. And the rest is pizza legend, a pie as fine as anyone has seen around here. Or around almost anywhere, I’d imagine, though I haven’t been everywhere. I ate far too much. I have a tendency to do that when I’m around really good food.

 

Some of you may be pleased that my dinner went so well. But most, I’m sure, are wondering why I’ve driveled on so long about a thing like pizza. Thing is, I wasn’t really talking about pizza at all, though it was a very tasty metaphor.

 

I’m talking about learning craft. And how that leads to art. And that ain’t drivel.

 

Want to know how to make a really good film…? You go about it about the same way Mr. Smith went about making his pizza. Slowly. Carefully. With lots of training. From the bottom up, learning the craft, studying, testing, trying, finding the courage to fail, having the smarts to dump your failures and move on, always aware you’re working with something hot enough for creation and deadly enough for destruction.

 

Had Mr. Smith opened his pizzeria while still green from some short-ends culinary school, odds are good whatever he turned out would have been bad. Or, at least, nowhere near as gob-smacking GOOD as what he delivered last night. Maybe he’d have survived, won a few food festivals and carved out a bit of living.

 

Fortunately for everyone who’s tasted the state of his art, he took the time to learn his craft. And made a thousand hungry fans happy in the process, delivering fine food, I mean DAMN fine food that borders on art, a feast for heart and soul.

 

All in all, Mr. Smith puts on a very tasty show for the young wannabes who should be taking home this extra tidbit with their takeaway pizzas. If you want art, real art, learn HOW before rushing out to DO. There’s already enough bad pizza (and bad film) in the world. Wouldn’t it be better to learn how to do it right instead of just getting it done.

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When Life Gives You Lemons….

November 20th, 2010

My Meyer Lemon tree is in full fruit.  If I lived on a patch of green in Los Angeles, that wouldn’t be noteworthy.  Hell, a chopstick will bloom in LA if you give it enough water.

Except I’m in a house in Minneapolis where the remnants of a sub-zero winter are still a recent memory.  And my poor little lemon tree survived an infestation of heaven-only-knows-what last year, only to be rendered down to a few dull leaves stuck on a bit of trunk stuck in a bit of soil stuck in an old clay pot.

Fortunately for me and my Meyer Lemon, my muse Alicia has never lost faith in the potential of the malformed and misbegotten.  Under her watchful eye and ever-gentle nurturing, Meyer and I survived the Minnesota winter.  And we have thrived.

Meyer LemonIf you don’t know Meyer Lemons, let me explain my unbridled excitement.  First off, she’s a bit of a mess, leaves and branches sprouting hither and yon, with no sense of the “proper way” little trees are meant to grow.  Still, through the rubble of her growth, symmetry be damned, there’s something of beauty there.  It just takes a bit of extra time to see it.

Her leaves are dark and richly green; her flowers a soft maroon-white with a room-filling aroma that’s  somehow seductive with the scent of sweet citrus and honey.  Her buds are plentiful, each birthing a tiny green globe.

Almost two months after it began, my tree is now heavy with little fruits nestled amid her green leaves, each tugging its branch lower to the ground day by day. And even as her fruit grows, majestic white flowers continue to bloom and fruit and scent the entire room.  Like a good lover, she is secretive but endlessly tantalizing and lush and generous with her bounty.

Before long, those little green lemons will grow golden and round and decidedly edible, with a taste that’s almost orange, but not.  Almost lemon, but not.  It will be mostly sweet with an undertone of sour and a peel as good as the inner fruit.  When you first share your mouth with a Meyer Lemon, you know you’ve never tasted anything like it before.  And you know you want more of it.

My sweMeyer Lemonet Meyer is greater than the sum of her parts and better than her lineage.  She’s a surprise, a delight to the eye and the palate and the mind.  Whoever tastes her sweetness is left marveling at whatever transformation delivered such unique sweetness, so unlike the industrial-level, one-note, supermarket lemon.

Movies are supposed to be like that, too.  The good ones anyway.

The best take time and nurturing to survive.  They need to be a little surprising and greater than the sum of all their parts.  Almost palpably alive, great films deliver a whole world, first with sweet seduction, then slowing revealing everything of themselves, bit by sweet bit, until they stand before you, exposed and naked.

AHA, you say, so that was what the opening seduction had been about.  Now I see, now I know, now I can make it mine.  And you open yourself up to inhale something richer, sweeter, greater than the sum of all its parts.

Films are immediate things, meant to be captured, ravaged, consumed, ingested, explored.  And the very best films are meant to be revisited, like old friends, welcome any time, rich with wisdom and history, comfortable with their own sureness yet lush enough to be savored again and over again.

Far too many films are over and done as fast as they came.  A one-night-stand best viewed in a darkened room and followed by a shower.  What a shame, what a waste.

Movies have the potential to be art.  Not some lemon of a grindhouse supermarket closeout, but a thing of beauty, rare and special.  Not something flat and stale, but a whole world of surprises and adventures.

We are the creators and that choice is ours.

Every time we dream another film into existence, we get to make that choice.  We can sledgehammer home one sour note.  Or nurture the impossible to uncover subtle variations with the power to turn lemons into art.  Before we begin, we need to know what kind of world we want to create and savor.

I want a world where I get to watch my sweet lemons grow.  I want to savor her scents and be seduced by her flowers.  And I want to drink deep of the best damn lemonade I’ve ever tasted.

All that in one sweet little metaphor nestled on my windowsill.

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The Real MacGyver in Our Kit

August 29th, 2010

I’ve been looking deeper into our toolkits. Those collections of indispensables that we think get us through our long days of work and reshoots.

When I asked people to name their one preeminent MUST HAVE out of all the little goodies in the kit – their Tool of All Tools – all the varied answers clustered down to a few.

The big tangible THING for many people was a multi-tool, that sort of MacGyver with a knife on one end, pliers on the other and a host of handy things (like screwdrivers) in the middle. There are hundreds of examples.

I reviewed a few at http://www.reelgrok.com/review-detail.cfm?rid=127. But it was the intangible MacGyvers that gave me real pause.

Near the top of most lists was ME, MYSELF and I. Sometimes expressed exactly that way. Sometimes translated as THOUGHT or BRAIN. Or the most basic of tools to help our brain get focused: plain old pencil & paper.

That was the real takeaway out of all the answers to all the questions. It all boiled down to this….

Of all our tools, of all the goodies we schlep from job to job, the iPhones and Droids and all the little apps for this and that, our single most important tool is our ability to use the rest of the tools in the kit. Or skip right by and do just fine without them.

While the state of our art is supported by an endless array of state-of-the-art gizmos and gimcracks, every single one of them is useless unless we’re smart enough to survive without them.

When I got my first computer, oh, a long time ago, I wrote an accounting program to automate my taxes. It took me two years before I finally had carved out something that was functional. And in that time I became so wrapped up in all the if and then of programming, I forget to file my taxes….

We love our toys, all the little tools in our kit. But they’re only useful as long as we keep their purpose in mind. Our goal is to create pictures out of printed words, turn passion into art, carve coherent stories from disjointed images.

We’re magicians making movies out of thin air, a well-turned phrase and finely tuned talent.
Using tools…? Well….

The best cameras can only record images. The best lights only add illumination. The best sets only provide a background. But delivering ART? That’s something else, indeed.

Which of all our tools do you think does that best…?

Think about it….

Results of the original survey are online. There’s also an extensive review of multi-tools.

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The WACCM Interview (in which secrets are revealed)….

July 29th, 2010

The following interview took place July 29, 2010, hosted by MIKKEL MADSEN for his LinkedIn group, WACCM TOO.  The session was all texted (no audio, no video) and it’s been copied and pasted below in its entirety.

You can access this identical interview (along with all its typos) at http://sn.im/waccm-interview, but become a free member of WACCM first.

Or maybe better, just read on….

Mikkel Madsen – Welcome Norman, how are you doing?

Norman C. Berns – Doing well. Just back from a trip to NY.

Mikkel Madsen – Great to meet you live Norman and welcome back home I understand your trip to NY was work related. Please tell us about what it is you are working on at present?

Norman C. Berns – Mostly work. Got in a bit of pleasure, too. A trip up to Stratford to see Christopher Plummer in The Tempest. It was worth the miles.  But work…. I was meeting with people about my next project – probably a doc, most likely educational film.

Mikkel Madsen – Educational in what way and targeting who?

Norman C. Berns – My last series – The Writing Code – looked at the history of writing. The three shows were in development and production for about six years. I THINK they targeted upper high school and college, but they’re a pretty good view for anyone.

If I keep working on the writing series, it’ll be aimed toward college studies mostly. But I’m also working on other projects that’ll target high-schoolers.

Then again, I have this really good terror film on my desk and maybe I’ll take a year for guilty pleasures.

Mikkel Madsen – So you’re not only doing documentary and educational films. You also do fiction?

Norman C. Berns – Sure. Started in fiction and still love it. Took a long loop into documentary, but don’t intend to get locked here. Hope not anyway,

Mikkel Madsen – Just on your project about history of writing. Does it touch on social media like LinkedIn’s impact on our new expanded usage of writing to communicate?

Norman C. Berns – A good film – any kind of film, fact or fiction – tells us about the human condition. How we live, how we see each other. Oh sure, some get silly and wander off into LA-LA land, but good films create a world and explore it. In The Writing Code it was about understanding the meaning of writing. It’s one of those inventions that (almost) everyone takes for granted. But it changed (and still changes) our lives. In my terror script, it’s understanding and overcoming evil. Very different, but still….

It touches on new technology like LinkedIn, but only as an introduction. We did three hours that covered about 5000 years of history. If we ever make them, the fourth show will be about the digital revolution. The fifth will cover the power of writing (it’s the first thing that gets censored) and the sixth will look at how writing is (and will be) taught.

When we began the series, we were mourning the death of writing. It was getting harder and harder to publish. Or, more realistically, to make money from publications. While we were still in production, along came texting, a whole new form of writing that seems to be replacing verbal conversation. Fascinating stuff that’s still playing out. No easier to make money, but maybe that’s the next step.

Mikkel Madsen – Alright, jumping back to your recent Plummer experience. Talking about actors like Christophe Plummer: he makes me think “gentlemen” and one of the last old school actors of our time. Not sure if you would agree, but let me ask; if you had to choose. Who are your favorite actors/actresses of all times?

Norman C. Berns – Ohmygod, that’s an impossible question. There have been so many good actors over so many years. I think it has more to do with the role. Dustin Hoffman in Death of a Salesman gave one of the finest performances I’ve ever seen. Is he my favorite actor…? Well, he is in THAT role. Meryl Streep is a force of nature. Her work is incredible, but I’m not sure she’d be that good in every role. (Just the ones she’s done.) And Christopher Plummer is (for the moment), my favorite all-time Prospero.

Mikkel Madsen – I know, that was an evil question, especially when asking someone for whom film is his life.  But thanks for sharing.

Norman C. Berns – Mikkel, the list goes on and on. But you’re welcome. It was kinda fun refreshing my brain.

Mikkel Madsen- In your LinkedIn profile you describe yourself as a professional filmmaker. Now, I’m familiar with the roles of film instructors and film producers. But filmmaker is kind of new to me. My guess would be that filmmaker is the actual “maker” and therefore kind of sit at the top of it all and manage the entire project – including the instructor and producer. Is that correct?

Norman C. Berns – Yeah, it is for me. I think all newbies start out as filmmakers (to match your definition). Lack of money gets everyone to learn how the lights light, how the dolly moves, how the truck (or the trunk) gets loaded every night. Docs are especially good at that. Two, three people are a crew. Four seems like a luxury. So you research and plan and schedule and shoot and edit….

Mikkel Madsen – Sounds like your professional passion is not just the film industry, but just as much working with smaller projects or might I say smaller budgets, and therefore smaller teams, kind of like start-ups for each new film project! Please correct me if I’m wrong.

Norman C. Berns – I love the industry because I love the process. Where else, in what other job, does anyone get to pick an incredibly narrow concept and learn all about, talk to world-leading scholars, pick and choose who to work with, then build all the pieces, put on a tux and go to the opening…? And then move on to another project just as complex and involving. It’s better than sex. Wait. I didn’t really mean that. But it’s pretty damn good.

Now big features are like that, too, except you get to work with an entire army of highly skilled technicians and artists. Oh, it’s heady, exciting stuff. I can’t imagine doing anything else.

Mikkel Madsen – Is that what made you establish the company ReelGrok? You describe it as a universe for filmmakers around the globe with all resources available. Can you explain who actually uses reelgrok today, how it is funded/makes money and what your vision is for reelgrok?

Norman C. Berns – Reelgrok (now fashionably re-branded in all lower case as “reelgrok”) is my love. Maybe because I had good mentors – or maybe because I just like the people who make movies – I love to teach. Didn’t know that until I did it, but it’s an exciting thing for me. Exciting when people call/write years after to let me know their projects are in the works. But I don’t want to stay home and teach, road time is limited and I don’t want to settle in at some film school. So I set up reelgrok where I can provide information, resources….

How is it funded…? Well, sometimes it’s not. But we’re getting better all the time. We charge a small fee for membership – $75 a year (which we actually try to give back in discounts). And we’ve been lucky enough to add a few advertisers and sponsors. In coming months it looks like we’ll be adding more.

Mikkel Madsen – So you offer yourself as an online mentor or maybe more correct coach to new young filmmakers?

Norman C. Berns – Sure. Lots of it is gratis. So many people have basic questions and don’t know where to turn for an answer. So I try to spend a few hours every day answering questions that come in. When it gets too complex, I charge for my time, of course.

BTW, I’m not the only one who does that. As just one example, look at someone like Ted Hope. A major producer, more than sixty films to his credit, an armload of awards…. But he finds time to blog and Tweet and post almost every day. Film, after all, is a collaborative art and our work depends on the people around us. And if we don’t help train them, who will…?

Mikkel Madsen – You own and manage another online community called The Budgeting Group. How does this link in with reelgrok, if it does?

Norman C. Berns – The Budgeting Group is much the same thing, but with a very narrow focus. I was part of the team that developed a short-lived budgeting program call ProductionPro. Because it was aimed at newbies, I found myself fielding a lot of basic budgeting questions. I started the group so that there were more voices available to help. The program was eventually abandoned by its backers. But the group lived on.

Mikkel Madsen – How many registered members or users does The Budgeting Group have today?

Norman C. Berns – Oh, I think there are about 3000, though most aren’t very active.

Mikkel Madsen – For my live interviews in WACCM TOO group, I have had very little response from female group members wanting to be interviewed. While I get hundreds of male members contacting me! But on the contrary, women seem to be most active when it comes to asking interviewees follow up questions in the group.

Why do you think this is so?   Big question, but maybe you have similar experiences from your online communities in regards to who first gets involved….

Norman C. Berns – Interesting question. I’m sure there’s some inherent reason for it, but, but, but…. Let’s just call it an odd bit of chance and let it go at that (before we both get into trouble here)…. If you like, I can suggest some very verbal women who might like to participate. We’ll talk.

Mikkel Madsen – I’ll let you off on this one, but will keep asking around and let you know if I do get any closer to a more valid answer….

When not working with films or watching films, how do you enjoy life?  and I’m not looking for anything too intimate

Norman C. Berns – I’m a serious cook. Read my blogs – they all seem to start or end with food. If the house were on fire, I’d grab my films first, then my pots and knives. My knives were my first serious purchase when I came to NY, straight out of college.

At least during the summer, it helps that I’ve become an avid gardener. The tomatoes are coming in. The peppers (hot) are ripening. I’m pretty happy puttering there. Even happier cooking all the goodies.

The hell with the films – I can always get copies. I’d go for the knives. Pots. Cookbooks….

Mikkel Madsen – We seem to have some shared passions. I’m an ex-cook and next week I expect to pick the first home grown tomatoes in my garden.

My wife is a sucker for the British cook Jamie Oliver. I believe he just did a tour in America as part of his world tours and TV programs. His pretty good, so if you don’t know him, you should have a look for his web site and books….

Norman C. Berns – Sure, I know him. Well intentioned (and a decent cook) but, I fear, a bit jarring on some of the locals here in the US. We seem to love our addictions and bad habits more than anything, even reality….

I wish I’d studied cooking. Don’t know why I didn’t. I arrived in NY with a typewriter, a small box of clothes and a set of spices. That’s not a joke.  I really carried my own spices cross country.  But I guess the typewriter won out.

Mikkel Madsen – Norman, are you up for a handful of quick last but not especially easy questions?  Okay,  first: In your opinion what is today the biggest threat to America’s film industry?

Norman C. Berns – Quick, huh…?  Okay, I’d say that America’s film industry is killing itself. The Big Guys are killing everything but their own tentpole productions. Big bucks, overpaid stars, junk remakes of remade junk films. Hate it.

Mikkel Madsen – Talking about old or bad food habits and subsequently health. What do you think about health care in America today and is it improving?

Norman C. Berns – Short answers. Terrible and NO…. Long answers. Worldwide food is dominated by a handful of major corporations that sell junk like high-fructose corn syrup. Their whole economy is based on peddling that crap. Worse, the US government (meaning MY tax dollars) subsidizes corn which is turned into corn syrup and pushed on people all around the world. It’s terrible.

We are grossly overweight, addicted to sugars, overloaded on salt and dying off far too young. The US has the highest medical costs in the world, but terrible numbers for longevity, disease, every bad thing.

Mikkel Madsen – Is North Korea serious or just blowing their horns?

Norman C. Berns – North Korea, huh…? Quite a leap.  Okay, I think that, like Iran, these are countries run by borderline crazy people. Obsessive, buried in worlds of their own making. And there’s no telling what they might do. Odds are good they won’t do something idiotic. Then again, they have a long history of exactly that.

Li Chow – Before you start production, do you think about the distribution and marketing aspects of the film? If so, with the international box office getting higher than domestic, do you take into consideration how to distribute and market the film outside of the US?

Norman C. Berns - The most important tasks for a new filmmaker are marketing and promotion. I’d set them about equal with producing the film.  50% producing, 50% selling.  The odds are very slim that any indie film will be picked up by an old-school distributor. There are fewer of them to approach and many fewer outlets that welcome indie films. So the entire task of marketing and promotion (and often the actual distribution, too) falls to the filmmaker. Isn’t that a terrible thing…?

Of course, if you can’t explain to your investor how you’ll return their investment – EXACTLY how you’ll return their investment with a profit – you have a slim chance of getting their money in the first place.

The job is so huge, Jon Reiss coined the new production category, “Producer of Marking & Distribution” or the PMD. It’s detailed in his book ,”Think Outside the Box Office. And he blogged about it recently….

I came up with the idea when trying to think of a solution to the enormous amount of work that distribution and marketing can be for filmmakers without a distributor. The concept boils down to the fact that you didn’t make film on your own – why should you release them on your own.

The concept seems to be gaining traction. I wrote about the job after 25% of my Perth and Adelaide workshops indicated that they wanted to be PMDs.  In Adelaide, the SA Film Corporation has plans to set up an in house PMD to help support the distribution efforts of independent filmmakers in South Australia.

Also just this week, Adam Daniel Mezei wrote a blog post about the responsibilities of a PMD and has set himself up as a PMD for Hire.

I feel that this beginning indicates that there a huge numbers of potential PMDs in the world who love films, don’t want to be on set and love the work of distribution and marketing. These are the people we filmmakers should seek out to be our PMDs.

This August I will be heading to the University Film and Video Conference (for US film school profs) to give 2 presentations on how and why to teach film distribution and marketing to film students. This is not just so that writer/directors can be aware of the realities of the world that awaits them, it is also to train a new generation of PMDs (and their support crew).

Filmmakers also have to consider all the potential tax incentives and sales outlets everywhere in the world, not just wherever they may be standing. Fortunately, it’s a much smaller world these days – or at least more accessible – but the task is still huge and the job onerous.

And we thought we’d grow up to be artists…!

Mikkel Madsen – Norman, it’s time to close our live chat ….

It was a pleasure chatting with you as part of my live interviews and I look forward to explore other possible cooperation opportunities. But for now I’ll thank you for your time and “hand you over” to the group

For details about coming live interviews, how to put your own name forward for an interview or recommend others for consideration or become group sponsor, kindly contact me on mm@waccmtoo.com.

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Norman C. Berns

Norman C. BernsFilmmaker, teacher, writer and consultant, my three-part documentary series, The Writing Code, recently aired on PBS.

Of nine films produced for The Metropolitan Opera, Young Wonders was picked up as a PBS special and La Boehme garnered an Emmy.

A certified Movie Magic instructor, I was an early beta tester for Screenplay Systems budgeting and scheduling programs. I was Creative Director of the Set Management team that created ProductionPro Budget.

Maybe it’s nostalgia, but I swear that was one of the best budgeting programs ever made. Hey, gimme a break; no one has an ugly kid…!

A regular columnist for the seminal online journal, WebZine Weekly, I’ve written for The Directors Guild, Tripod, Inc. and BTL News. My blogs and reviews can currently be found on reelgrok, the NY Times owned Baseline and Pavaline. My overview of film budgeting will appear in the latest edition of Carole Dean’s “The Art of Film Funding.”

When I’m not in production, I can usually be found teaching film fundamentals, from script breakdown to successful pitching.  I’m a member of The Internet Press Guild, the Directors Guild, Screen Actors Guild and Actors Equity.