“It’s amazing what M&Ms can do for morale.“
Steve Moramarco
Actor, filmmaker and UCLA film school grad Steve Moramarco (@moremarkable) wrote an article last year in Indie Wire titled How to Make Your First Feature Film for $5,000—which just happened to be how much his first feature film The Great Intervention cost to shot and edited. He has nine suggestions and that are similar yet different from what I called The 10 Ten Film Commandments of Edward Burns is a post last year. But #1 on Moramarco’s list is about the script:
“From the moment you start writing the script, be realistic…Keep your scenes and location simple. Really simple. As in, scenes with no more than three or four people that take place in a location that you can access for free. Do not think you can pay for a location. You can’t afford it.”
Steve Moramarco
The best recent example of this is Buried—one actor on-screen in one location. (Sure they spent a boatload of money making that film, but Chris Sparling’s original intention was to write a script he could make for $5,000.) So check out the rest of Moramarco’s list and here’s a Film Courage interview with Moramarco expanding on his $5,000 feature film list.
H/T to filmmaker Edd Blott for linking that interview on Facebook and opening my world to Moramarco and Film Courage.
“Cinema has always been marriage of technology and human talent.” Francis Ford Coppola (older filmmaker based in Napa Valley)
“I think every filmmaker needs to make 20 awful films before they can make one good one. And I made my share of totally awful films with my friends.”
Bradley Jackson (younger filmmaker based in Austin) Interview with Ron Dawson
Screenwriter John August has a post on his blog titled Writing for Hollywood without living there where he has a first person account written by 26-year-old writer/director Bradley Jackson from Austin, Texas. Jackson recently earned more than $100,000 by winning The Doorpost Film Project (best film, best director, best script) and optioning a screenplay.
What separates Jackson from the traditional way of thinking about a career in production is he has no intentions of moving to Los Angeles. His plan right now is to stay in Austin where he has friends and family and to commute to L.A. as needed.
August’s readers made various comments on whether this is a wise thing to do and speculated if Jackson can really pull off a career writing and making films in Austin. Because my focus is encouraging writers and filmmakers who live in unusual places (and that includes some places even within the 30 mile zone in LA) three thoughts quickly came to mind;
1) It’s not like Bradley Jackson lives in a small town in Iowa. He lives in Austin, Texas which is one of the most interesting places in the United States. It’s a giant college town, has a solid tech and political base, and an intense creative culture. It’s home to the Austin Film Festival, SXSW and the last time I was in Austin I was told there are more live musical acts in a given night in Austin than any city in the USA. (Yes, that includes NY, LA and Chicago.)
2) Most people writing screenplays and making films make no money writing screenplays and making films. (Heck, even a good chunk of writers in the WGA, make little or no money in a given year.) Jackson just made over $100,000 in just the first two months of 2011 by winning The Doorpost Film Project and optioning a script. I’m not sure if that money is his, but whatever he takes home will go a lot further in Austin that it would in Los Angeles.
Jackson represents a new breed of filmmakers. He’s been making films since high school and by his own admission spent several years making bad films before he learned what he was doing. He got a film degree from UT—Austin where he was mentored by filmmaker/teacher Scott Rice. He’s surrounded himself with other talented filmmakers in Austin and became Kickstarter savvy which helped him fund his recent film. He’s busting his butt, writing scripts, and willing to fly in to L.A. as needed.
3) Robert Rodriguez. While screenwriters and filmmakers have traditionally moved to Hollywood after they’ve gotten their first break, Rodriguez is the poster child for bucking that trend. Here’s part of what Austin-based Rodriguez told a group of filmmakers in LA back in 2003:
“One of the benefits of being outside of Hollywood—one of the reasons I think like this (shooting digitally) has to do with the fact that I don’t live here. Because (in Texas) you’re so removed you get to examine (how films are made) and say, ‘That doesn’t really make sense for us out here. Let’s do what makes sense.’ And you find a whole other way of shooting. And that’s one of the best things you can do for yourself even if you work here (LA). Try to get a birds-eye view of things and really question it and you’ll start coming up with different ways of doing things that work.”
As I’ve said before, when I was in film school many years ago students were encouraged to not be a jack-of-all trade, and a master-of-none. But the new kind of filmmakers coming up (who may be in middle school or retirement homes—and everywhere in between) are jack-of-all trades. And some of them are on their way to becoming master-of-all trades.
They can not only write, but they know their way around cameras and non-linear editing systems, they are aware of various fundraising methods, they devour DVDs directors commentaries & online tutorials at lynda.com, and they are keeping on track of new distribution trends and get exciting about the success that Edward Burns has had self-distributing his films and the things that Kevin Smith said at Sundance ’11:
“The piece of advice that Walter Gretzky gave (his son) Wayne Gretzky was this…’don’t go where the puck’s been, go where it’s gonna to be.’ The philosophy was simple, if you puck chase you’re always going to be behind the game…You want to be the person that’s where the puck’s going to be.”
These new kind of filmmakers are reminiscent of those rebel filmmakers like Lucas and Coppola who back in their youth were embracing new technologies and pursuing a life beyond LA.
Today this new kind of filmmaker is going where the puck isn’t and they’re not afraid to make a bad film or two in their quest to make good films.
And, of course, they read Screenwriting from Iowa daily.
This is The Un-official 10 Film Commandments of Edward Burns (or Low-Budget Film Rule Book) based on his comments from the director’s commentary of Nice Guy Johnny, which he wrote, directed, co-produced and acted in. The film was made for $25,000. and shot in 10 days and features fine performances by co-stars Max Bush & Kerry Bishe. The film and its iTunes & Netflix distribution model sets a new standard to follow for independent filmmakers producing sub-$100,000. movies.
1) Find up and coming actors who are talented and hungry. (And willing to do their own make-up/wardrobe.)
2) Use a crew you’ve worked with before, and shoot digitally.
3) Find free locations.
4) Don’t worry about film permits.
5) Don’t worry (obsess) about continuity.
6) Don’t mourn what you don’t have & ask lots of favors.
7) Pick locations where you can use little or no lights.
8.) Hire people for little money who can wear multiple hats on production. (But give them a cut of any profits.)
9) Even if you wrote the script & are the director— don’t be afraid to hold the boom mike when needed.
10) Don’t fall in love with a continual shooting schedule. Chip away shooting days and hours when you can.
If you haven’t seen the film, here is the trailer that will give you a taste of the results:
“If you are an aspiring filmmaker, in this day of inflating budgets and runaway production, the truth is you can make a movie for no money in New York… and have a blast.” Edward Burns
Back in 1995 Edward Burns showed the world a little film that he produced, directed, and was also the lead actor. That little film, The Brothers McMullen, had a big impact on his career. It premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in January of ’95 and won the Grand Jury Prize. The $25,000. film was released later that summer and grossed over $10 million.
“For my first film, basically what I did was I wrote a list of locations I knew I could get for free. I live in New York, and I knew you don’t need permits to shoot in Central Park. So I put five scenes in Central Park. Part of indie filmmaking is that you have to believe in compromise. And that isn’t necessarily a dirty word.”
Edward Burns Indiewire article by Peter Knegt
And though he has gone on to earn big paychecks as an actor on large Hollywood films as varied as Saving Private Ryan and 27 Dresses, he’s never lost his desire to write and direct smaller pictures. Among the nine features he’s directed, in 2004 he made Looking for Kitty using a $3,500 Panasonic DVX 100 camera. In 2009 he made some Webisodes called The Lynch Pin using the Red Camera.
One thing Burns has resisted doing is the Hollywood offers to direct big budget productions that he doesn’t have the heart to make.
“The minute someone writes you a check, there’s artistic compromise… You’re not able to cast the people you want to cast. They’re offering and sometimes making changes they feel the film needs. That’s frustrating. On a low budget film, there are also compromises. You need to find free locations to film. There are no special effects. Nobody is going to look at your film and say ‘Wow, that’s a cool shot.’ You have to be OK with telling smaller character stories. But that’s all I’ve wanted to do anyhow.”
Edward Burns Chicago Tribune
And just a couple weeks ago he released his latest smaller story,Nice Guy Johnny, that he pulled off making for $25,000. using a three man crew and just a ten day shooting schedule. The movie was released iTunes, Video on Demand, and Netflix. And Burns still owns the copyright to the film. Could this really be Hollywood 2.0?
“Distribution models are starting to dismantle.”
Edward Burns
“My stuff is low concept. Usually character driven, and usually born out of a type of character I either know or come across that I get excited about exploring who they are, and a lot of times where they come from. So I try and look at environment, their community, their family, and they are mostly born out of that. Periodically I’ve tried to find a little bit of a plot just to drive the story forward in order to explore who these people are.”—That’s how Burns summed up the smaller stories he tells during a Q&A session at the Tribeca Film Festival this year. It’s a model that I think works in whatever unlikely place you find yourself writing screenplays.
Tomorrow we’ll flash 15 years forward from Burns’ success at Sundance and look at a different kind of film by different filmmakers that in 2010 won the best picture award at Sundance, Winter’s Bone. A small story set in the Missouri Ozarks. (And one that just happens to have an Iowa connection.)
I have written previously about screenwriters who wrote 10-15-20 screenplays before they saw their first one produced. Here’s the second part of that equation:
“If you want to make independent films, it’s so competitive, and it’s so hard. You’ve got to keep at it. Times in my career where I’ve become lazy or distracted, not only did I feel dissatisfied, like when I go two or three years without a film. But there is a definite ‘Out of Sight Out of Mind’, ‘What Have You Done for Me Lately?’ thing that happens. So I think it’s important to keep working for the more practical and financial reasons and it helps to keep you fresh. I throw out a lot of what I write. Since The BrothersMcMullen, I probably have 25 un-produced screenplays that I will probably never do anything with. But they had to be written in order to write the one that followed it.”
Writer/ Director Edward Burns (She’s the One) Interview with Cynthina Ellis
“The world needs a new culture around creativity…Being Creative makes this planet a better place.” Chase Jarvis
“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth…”
Genesis 1
About ten years ago I read a Tom Peters quote that off the top of my head was something like; ”Sometimes to rejuvenate yourself creatively, you need to move to another climate or another culture.” Seven years ago I moved to Iowa (“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by”—Frost) and that has made all the difference. Long story short, it turned out to be the change I needed to rejuvenate myself creatively. In a sense it was a step back from the track I had been on.
I had been on the traditional track, doing traditional things, with a traditional mindset. Even the places I lived were somewhat traditional for somebody with a creative mindset—Miami, Los Angeles, Orlando. And along the way I got to work with some good people on good productions, traveled a good bit, and kept up with the creative changes by embracing new technology as it came my way, like shooting stills and video digitally and going from editing film on a Steenbeck flatbed to editing with an AVID. (And now FCP, Motion, Soundtrack, etc., etc.)
But I ways also looking for something different. Something that tapped into that creative ideal I had when I was 18-years-old. Along the way I was also reading Malcolm Gladwell, Daniel Pink, and Seth Godin. Turns out the same people Chase Jarvis*, a Seattle-based photographer, has been reading. Jarvis is a piece of the puzzle of bridging the gap between the old traditional creative guard and a new way of doing things that is well on its way. This new thing, this wave of change, Jarvis calls “social art.”
What is social art? Jarvis says, “I can’t say exactly what it is, but I can tell you that it’s creating content and context. It’s interdisciplinary, it’s participatory, it’s interactive, and it’s symbiotic. Everybody can win. Most importantly I think social art is incomplete if there’s not another person on the end of the pipe in some way, shape or form participating in that art with you. “ (Have you ever written a screenplay that didn’t get produced? Yeah, me too. That’s a good example of an incomplete art.)
Social art could be a communal dinner where someone is sharing their art of cooking, while another is sharing a song, and others are showing photographs, paintings, and films. What a wonderful world, right?
And despite all of the negativity associated with the Internet there is an amazing amount of sharing of creative content. Dare I say communities connecting via Facebook, Twitter, You Tube and the like. Today people are connecting and freely sharing information with the same zeal that the old tradional guard tried to hide.
Last week Jarvis spoke in New York City at the Photo Plus Expo and said, ”I’m asking you to put yourself at the center of a new art, a social art where you’re creating something and sharing it with those around you…Take more picture, be fearless, put yourself out there, shoot more films, build tools—the iPhone app is a great tool, and educate. At the end of the day what I’m talking about is the democratization of creativity.”
It’s an exciting time to be in the creative arts. I have a first hand view of young creative people (some with no traditional arts education) who are carving out niches taking pictures, producing music videos, making films, painting, creating animation, and designing graphics and websites. And they’re earning a living not even aware of the fading traditional way of doing things.
“This is the most exciting time in the history of the world to be a photographer…It’s the first time in the history of the world that content creators are also distributors. Anybody in this room, if you took a picture of me in the hallway you have— within five minutes—you can have a blog, a Facebook account, Twitter and be sharing your work. The content creators are the content distributors. And the best thing about this is we don’t have to ask anybody’s permission.
Until now everything previous to this you had to have permission if you wanted to show your work on any sort of scale. Sure you could show your work to your friends, you could walk around New York with a portfolio, walk into five ad agencies in a day, sure—that’s that scale. You needed permission from the gallerist, you needed permission from the magazine editor, the photo editor, you needed to get tapped, selected by the ad agency to be able to show your work on any sort of scale. Those days are over. Any person in here can share what they create, with scale, right now.”
Chase Jarvis
PDN PhotoPlusNewYork
This may not be the most exciting time in the history of the world to be a traditional screenwriter. But to be a screenwriter with a “social art” mindset it’s an incredible time. Imagine writing a script, doing an online reading, gathering a following, rasing money through a Kickstarter campaign, making your film, generating interest via your blog, and distributing it via DVD sales on your website and iTunes rentals and sales. That is not the future, these are tools that are at your disposal right now.
Over the weekend we’ll look at how writer/director/actor Edward Burns is a great model for independent filmmakers. For his latest film, Nice Guy Johnny, Edwards is both the creator and the distributor.
*Jarvis has a blog and you can follow him on Twitter @chasejarvis.
“If it looks too good to be true, it probably is.” Wise old saying
Yesterday, I mentioned the danger of financing your feature film using personal credit cards. (The Angry Filmmaker & Four Eyed Monsters.) If your film doesn’t sell, it’s a risk that could leave you broke at best and heavily in debt (or bankrupt) at worst. But there is even a more dangerous way to finance your film—commiting fraud. An audit was released earlier this week here in Iowa that stated that 80% of the Iowa film tax credits were flawed.
You don’t have to read all of the 277 page report (or even agree with some of its findings) to see there were a gross abuses of tax payers money. Auditor of State David S. Vaudt released a special investigation that “identified $25,576,300.50 of tax credit certificates which were improperly issued for the 22 projects.” (If you got lost in the commas, that’s more than 25 million dollars.)
The Des Moines Register article by Lee Rood stated, “Following release of the audit, Attorney General Tom Miller announced he had filed a new civil lawsuit in Polk County against five business partners and four companies involved in producing or pursuing 15 movie projects.”
The layers of fraud appear to be deep and quite commonplace. (And consistent with rumors that began kicking around the Iowa production community in ’08.) And for a dramatic twist, in the report there is a letter of concern from an Minnesota resident who wrote a letter in June of ’09 to the Iowa Film Commission stating, “I am writing because I discovered what I think to be fraud perpetrated on the tax payers of Iowa.” He goes on to detail how the head of a production company in L.A. told him (in his words), “She puts in millions of dollars in phony deferments with people she knows then gets tax credits to cover it.”
Needless to say, the Iowa Auditor is not the only one angry. Everyone from Iowa politicians (on all sides) to Iowa residents are angry. I doubt if the State of Iowa will be able to recoup much of the money that it says its owed. But I image there are some filmmakers, producers, and “tax certificate brokers” that are getting a little less sleep these days. Perhaps some houses and Hummers will be sold and perhaps some people will go to jail. (Lawyer fees alone for those being investigated will be ridiculous.) Time will tell. But the moral of the story is don’t commit fraud to get your film made. (Heck, let’s just go out on a limb and say it’s never a good idea to commit any kind of fraud.) And if you just see yourself as a big picture artistic person, be careful of whose advice you follow.
And it’s not like these people were even stealing to make good films. You know, you at least have a little sympathy for the unemployed, down on his luck fellow who steals a loaf of bread to feed his family. But we’re talking about pure greed to produce crap. Just another scam to make money.
And from a pure filmmaker’s perspective it’s sickening to see the inflated fees that were paid to crews on the taxerspayers’ dime. I noticed more than one line item for inexperienced production people who were paid more for a few weeks work than the total film cost of Edward Burns’ new film , Nice Guy Johnny. (Reportedly made with a three person crew for $25,000.) It was released on iTunes this week and as I type this it is currently #7 in iTunes rentals. If you want a true independent filmmaker to look up to and who’s leading the alternative distribution way, Burns is a great choice to follow.
Via a Twitter prompt by director Edward Burns (@edward_burns) I just discovered Ghetto Film School. It fits well with the blog here…Screenwriting from Iowa, and other unlikely places. I think the ghetto qualifies as an unlikely place to write screenplays and make films. The Ghetto Film School (GFS) was founded in 2000 by Joe Hall. Based in New York City their mission is, “to educate, develop and celebrate the next generation of great American storytellers.”
So far more than 400 students have participated in the 15 month film program. The not-for-profit school has a well-connected Board of Directors, Filmmaker Council, and Advisory Board that includes Mark Wahlberg, Edward Burns, Spike Jonze, Lee Daniels, and Evan Shapiro (President of IFC TV and Sundance Channel).
In a recent article in The New York Times Joe Hall said, “We get people who apply from everywhere, but our commitment is to the Bronx in particular and the city in general.” In the TImes article written by Larry Rohter he quotes director David O. Russell (Three Kings) as saying of the work of The Ghetto Film School, “It’s an inspiring thing to do. Hollywood is so unreal and weird that you really cherish experiences that are real and down-to-earth with people who have compelling stories to tell.”
That sounds like a good plan to me. From the farm to the ghetto, from military bases to retirement homes, I believe there are many, “people who have compelling stories to tell.”
I wanted to find a quote for St. Patrick’s Day from a screenwriter with Irish roots. The quote I found isn’t about screenwriting but I got a kick out of it and I did find a way to tie it into what this blog is all about. It’s from actor/writer/director Edward Burns (Saving Private Ryan, The Brothers McMullen). I’m not 100% sure of the context but it appears to be in a reference to actors who are bothered by paparazzi popping up around every corner.
“If that stuff really bothers you so much, you should go do regional theatre. Go do Chekhov in Iowa. No paparazzi will be following you.” Edward Burns
See Iowa is always the bench mark for obscurity. (Hence, the title Screenwriting from Iowa.) And speaking of theater in Iowa, congrats to Theatre Cedar Rapids for the renovations they just completed on their historic theater following the flood of ’08 that had the water as high as seven feet inside. It took a lot of time and money to restore it to its original state.
Fans of the movie Office Space may be interested that Ron Livingston was born in Cedar Rapids and has performed on the stage at Theatre Cedar Rapids. A visit there as a teenager helped give him inspiration to become an actor.
“I remember being in 10th grade and being a part of Marion High School’s job shadowing program and being asked to pick something that I might want to do for a living. I told them I was thinking about being an actor—and in a lot of parts of the country they would have looked at me and laughed and told me to pick something else—but my guidance counselor was able to pick up the telephone, and a week or so later I was able to follow Richard Barker around as he held auditions and gave me a tour of the theater and told me what it would be like to be a professional actor…I’ve very proud to be a part of Theatre Cedar Rapid’s history.” Actor Ron Livingston
While paparazzi may not be following you while you’re writing or performing for regional or community theaters in Iowa (or wherever you live in fly-over country) but it sure could lead to bigger things. In fact, just to tie this back into St. Patrick’s Day, the Provincetown Playhouse (on Cape Cod in Massachusetts) not only had a part in the spread of the “Little Theater” movement 100 years ago, but they helped launch the career of the great playwright Eugene O’Neill.
It would be fun someday to do a screenwriting seminar at the Provincetown Playhouse or Theatre Cedar Rapids and to tap into some of that history and hopefully inspire the next generation of writers and actors rising up from seemingly obscure places.
