You're Never Alone

One of the misconceptions of independent cinema is the idea that independent means you do it on your own. It does feel like that at times, but you're never really alone in your endeavors.

As a writer, I am alone in front of that computer screen. I'm there with my notes, my thoughts and that keyboard trying to fashion a story together. I may ask for feedback from trusted sources, but no one is writing the story for me.

But after that screenplay is written, I cannot continue without the help. When I step back and look at the actual act of creating a short film, I'm always amazed at the willingness of so many people to help create my vision. The passion of others to make something I've written into a reality is as surprising as it is powerful.

I should've recognized this earlier in my indie career.

In mid-2002, myself and a few of my friends had already formed a small production company. The idea, not a new on, was to work on short films and support each other through the process. We did a variety of commercials for the production company, which all participated in, but the majority of the short films were written and directed by me and I was done with short films. I wanted to do a feature.

We had a meeting. I stated my intention. And I added an escape hatch for my friends, because I didn't want to impose my desire to shoot a feature. I offered the chance for my friends to not be involved in the feature. I knew it would cost money and time, and I didn't want my friends to feel like I was demanded that from them.

I wanted all of us to be independent in our work. I didn't want the production company to be just about me. To my own career detriment, I cared too much of the success of my friends. I wanted them to be as passionate as I was. Looking back, knowing what I know now, of courser they would say yes.

We were in it together. We did shot that feature in the summer of 2003. It was a great experience. We had some disagreements and it was a challenge to finish, but finish we did. I couldn't have done it without them.

I'm never alone when I make a movie.

Lo/No Pay Is The Way to Go

In a perfect world, we’re all getting paid to do this work. The tenets of independent cinema are based on a system of “lo/no pay work”. It’s a rite of passage for anyone looking to break into industry, much like an unpaid intern starting at a brokerage firm down on Wall Street. The world is run on the backs of the unpaid intern. Why should that be any different for indie film?

Movies like “Clerks” and “Slacker” aren’t getting finished if Kevin Smith and Richard Linklater are paying for every single person working on their movies. The world would not have performances from Bill Murray in “Rushmore” ($9000) or Ryan Gosling in “Half Nelson” ($1000 a week) if we’re making sure everyone gets paid what they deserve when it comes to indie film.

Movies cost money and post-production costs eat up most of the budget. If it’s down to paying all the grips and electric their regular, industry standard rate versus the finishing funds needed to have the best color-correction and audio mix available, I’m sorry, but I’m finding a crew who will work for copy and credit. The final product is more important than who works on the set. All I really need is one solid person, who can wear multiple hats during the production to drag along those less experienced.

And isn’t that what working on a crew for lo/no pay is all about? The experience.

Understand that I’m not advocating not paying anything at all. Aside from the food that would be provided, there could be a small rate offered to those in key positions of the crew. With the alternative of getting paid nothing, a small rate would go a long way to helping shape a more interested crew. A cinematographer getting $75 a day is less likely to walk off set over a disagreement about lighting placement, as would one who is working for no money at all.

Let’s look at the genesis of most indie films. A few friends, all in the industry in some form or another, are hanging out one night bemoaning the state of movies. They complain about how the productions they work for are generating terrible movies.

Why would someone like this?

This isn’t funny!

We could do better than that movie.

Boom. An indie film is born. Most of these independent productions are filled with friends looking to create something special. They’re looking to put their stamp on modern cinema with their story. It’s about the story. It’s about the craft. It’s about the art. As soon as one starts wondering about getting paid for their work, the magic dies. It becomes a job and not a calling.

Telling a story with your friends is special. Looking to get paid to help friends is petty. When people start getting paid what they think they should be paid, it has now become a job and the inevitable complaining about the job begins. The work suffers. The movie suffers. The relationships suffer. What once began as a chance to experience something unique with friends is now tearing those same friends apart. It happens all the time. As soon as money enters the picture, it ruins the specialness of the movie-making experience.

Money ruins everything.