Category: Avoiding Disaster

Avoiding Disaster

Let’s make a documentary—then kill each other

I work with both documentarians and narrative filmmakers, and they are very different in their approaches. With narrative filmmakers, you need all your money raised before you enter into an intense multi-week production phase. It’s a long process of fundraising before you even touch a camera. Documentary filmmakers, on the other hand, just need a camera and a subject to get the ball rolling. Run out of money—that’s OK. Put the camera away until you get some more money—and then do some more shooting. This process can go on for years. Documentarians have a slow burn of their funds as they start and stop their shoot. Usually it’s not about that—it’s about a subject that they are extremely passionate about. It is hard to shoot alone, however, and it is very common that another person who has the same passion for the subject may join forces. When there is collaboration such as this, there is a great deal of good faith and trust as both of you are working hard to get this important story about this thing you’re passionate about out into the world.

Particularly here in San Francisco, I find these collaborations have a sort of Burning Man ethos where it’s not about contracts and money and financial expectations—it’s about getting this story out into the world. The two of you nurture this thing for years, maxing out your credit cards but creating something wonderful. Then there’s a small disagreement.

topics: bay area, digital filmmaking, directors, distributors, documentary, independent film

Avoiding Disaster

Let’s make a documentary—then kill each other

I work with both documentarians and narrative filmmakers, and they are very different in their approaches. With narrative filmmakers, you need all your money raised before you enter into an intense multi-week production phase. It’s a long process of fundraising before you even touch a camera. Documentary filmmakers, on the other hand, just need a camera and a subject to get the ball rolling. Run out of money—that’s OK. Put the camera away until you get some more money—and then do some more shooting. This process can go on for years. Documentarians have a slow burn of their funds as they start and stop their shoot. Usually it’s not about that—it’s about a subject that they are extremely passionate about. It is hard to shoot alone, however, and it is very common that another person who has the same passion for the subject may join forces. When there is collaboration such as this, there is a great deal of good faith and trust as both of you are working hard to get this important story about this thing you’re passionate about out into the world.

Particularly here in San Francisco, I find these collaborations have a sort of Burning Man ethos where it’s not about contracts and money and financial expectations—it’s about getting this story out into the world. The two of you nurture this thing for years, maxing out your credit cards but creating something wonderful. Then there’s a small disagreement.

topics: bay area, digital filmmaking, directors, distributors, documentary, independent film

Avoiding Disaster

Notes on digital distribution

November 1997—“Dear Mr. Rush, we regret to inform you that your film The Milkman has not been accepted to the Sundance Film Festival.” This had to be a mistake. I had just toiled for two years making a low budget feature narrative about a recent college grad who moves back home to San Francisco and tries to figure out what to do with his life (shockingly, that’s a pretty good description of myself in 1997). I even have a cameo, with the poetic line, “Man, that’s a lot of beer.” I actually called Sundance to inform them of their mistake, but they were resolute in their denial. The film was made for $16,000.00 and I remember almost crying when I told my investors (family and friends) that we were rejected. This conversation happened about 20 more times as festival after festival rejected the tour de force known as The Milkman. Even our own local festival in San Francisco said no. I pleaded with a programmer—"I’m from here, this is about San Franciscans, why would you show Truffaut over me?" The programmer politely told me that San Francisco residence or subject matter was not a factor in choosing films—it was quality. The final blow came when I showed the film to my family and the average anonymous score on a scale from one to ten was two. I was crushed.

Avoiding Disaster

Notes on digital distribution

November 1997—“Dear Mr. Rush, we regret to inform you that your film The Milkman has not been accepted to the Sundance Film Festival.” This had to be a mistake. I had just toiled for two years making a low budget feature narrative about a recent college grad who moves back home to San Francisco and tries to figure out what to do with his life (shockingly, that’s a pretty good description of myself in 1997). I even have a cameo, with the poetic line, “Man, that’s a lot of beer.” I actually called Sundance to inform them of their mistake, but they were resolute in their denial. The film was made for $16,000.00 and I remember almost crying when I told my investors (family and friends) that we were rejected. This conversation happened about 20 more times as festival after festival rejected the tour de force known as The Milkman. Even our own local festival in San Francisco said no. I pleaded with a programmer—"I’m from here, this is about San Franciscans, why would you show Truffaut over me?" The programmer politely told me that San Francisco residence or subject matter was not a factor in choosing films—it was quality. The final blow came when I showed the film to my family and the average anonymous score on a scale from one to ten was two. I was crushed.

[SF360.org editor’s note: This is the first edition of George Rush’s new column in our Indie Toolkit, a legal column for independent filmmakers.]

topics: bay area, documentary, features, filmmakers, independent film, legal issues

Avoiding Disaster

Are your duckies in a row? Securing the music and footage rights before the big fest premiere

After years of hard work on your independent film, finally some recognition and reward. You’ve been accepted into a film festival where audiences can fawn over your work and distributors can take out their checkbooks to acquire the rights. This is it—this is the dream! Start planning something dapper to wear to the premiere!

[SF360.org editor’s note: This article appeared originally in Film Arts magazine. Look for substantial portions of the digitized archive of Film Arts and Release Print, from 2004-08, at SFFS in the coming months.]