MEET THE FESTIVAL VETERANS

I have enlisted the aid of a diverse group of filmmakers to share their festival experiences along with their advice. Each filmmaker and his or her work act as a case study demonstrating the dos and don’ts and the hows and the whys of the world of festivals and independent filmmaking. All have reached the end of their festival journeys with one or more projects finding lucrative distribution deals, a moderate release on cable and DVD, or self-distribution—but you never would have guessed how they got to where they are now. By taking a truthful and sometimes painful look at the paths they chose, the group you are about to meet prove that a healthy dose of self-criticism allows filmmakers to grow as artists. What you are about to read seem less like interviews and more like confessionals—each person offering a detailed account of his or her triumphs and failures.

I carefully selected interview subjects who would avoid being diplomatic and offer useful information to filmmakers and festival-goers. These interviewees constitute the best and the brightest in independent film. Each person delivers the real deal—hard information, free of polite spin.

The filmmakers interviewed for the fourth edition of this book have created a wide range of films, including shorts, documentaries, and narrative features. The subject matter touches on everything from social issues, to the music of Kurt Cobain, to video game obsession, to a musical real estate comedy, to a zombie mockumentary, to a documentary exploring the effects of fast food, to the misadventures of a likable nerd in rural America. The movies are as diverse as each filmmaker. Each of these movies represents one of the numerous paths a filmmaker can take when seeking success through a film festival. Some of these paths include:

There are certainly more roads than those mentioned and new ones that filmmakers will invent for themselves out of necessity. And whether you are making a short, a documentary, or a feature, you’ll find something to be learned from every type of filmmaker. Look to them for their inspiration, entertainment, and enlightenment, but most of all, learn from their experiences.

MORGAN SPURLOCK
Documentary filmmaker

FILMS: Where in the World Is Osama Bin Laden?, Super Size Me, 30 Days

FESTIVAL EXPERIENCE: Screened films at Sundance, SXSW

AWARDS: Winner of Sundance’s Best Director prize in Documentary Competition, Academy Award nomination for Best Documentary

DEAL: Super Size Me sold at Sundance for $1 million

“Know what you want to achieve, and picking the right fest for your film will be easy.”

West Virginia native Morgan Spurlock did not exactly burst onto the scene, but looking in from the outside it just might seem that way. His documentary feature Super Size Me was the hit of Sundance 2004 and propelled him into the spotlight with his hilarious issue-based doc dealing with fast food’s impact on obesity in America. The always-smiling Spurlock is like Michael Moore without that chip on his shoulder. He’s a filmmaker on a mission, and his debut feature secured his spot in independent film history. His success continues with the FX reality series 30 Days and as a producer on projects such as Chalk and What Would Jesus Buy? His latest feature, Where in the World Is Osama Bin Laden?, premiered at Sundance, but what everyone wants to know is, where did he start?

So Morgan, where did you get your start?

Morgan Spurlock
(Photo: Ari Gerver)

I grew up in West Virginia. My parents rule—they were always encouraging and basically let me pursue whatever creative outlet I wanted. If it wasn’t for them, I’d probably be handing out mints and towels in a bathroom somewhere.

When I graduated from high school in 1989, I went to USC to try to get into their film program. Because that’s what you do, right? I was accepted into their Broadcast Journalism department and thought that once there it would be easy for me to get into the film school. Boy, was I wrong. I was rejected five times! I applied every semester … and got rejected every semester. The last time I also applied to NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts and in their infinite wisdom they accepted me into the undergrad program. So, in the summer of 1991, I left L.A. bound for New York and the promise of a filmmaking future.

I graduated in 1993 and began working in the industry immediately. I did anything and everything. I shoveled shit on the set of The Professional, but I also got to shoot the last frame of film for the movie on the roof of the Essex Hotel with director Luc Besson. I got yelled at by pedestrians while holding traffic in Times Square on the set of Bullets over Broadway, but I also got to see and hear Woody Allen direct actors. I fetched coffee and fruit and danishes during the rehearsals for Boys on the Side.

While on the film Kiss of Death in 1994, I got a friend of mine a job working for Tracy Moore Marable (one of the coolest people on the planet) in the casting department. A few weeks later, they sent me to go audition to be the national spokesman for Sony Electronics. I had no agent and I hadn’t auditioned in years—not since my stand-up years at USC and NYU. What were they thinking? I ran downtown to drop off some film and on my way back to the office I ran in and auditioned. Two weeks later I found out that I got the job and was off traveling the country, far away from the schlepping and fetching.

Once on the road with Sony, I put my film degree to work by creating and shooting videos for them while also doing a lot of on-camera announcing for both them and their partners. Meanwhile, I kept directing and I kept writing. For Sony, Hasbro—any client that would pay me.

In 1999, my full-length play, The Phoenix, won the Audience Favorite Award at the New York International Fringe Festival; it then won the Route 66 National Playwright Competition. However, I also had the worst music video directing experience of my life that same year—and it was that spark that lit the fuse for me to start my own production company.

In 2000, The Con was formed, and our first show, I Bet You Will, blew up on the Web. It received more than 48 million unique visitors in eighteen months, and news stories were written about it worldwide. CBS optioned the idea—our worries were over. Then 9/11 happened and business in New York fell apart. I couldn’t find any work, I was evicted from my apartment, and had to sleep on a hammock in my office. I maxed out all my credit cards to feed employees, pay rent, and pay other credit cards. CBS dropped the option. It was the worst of times. I was more than $300,000 in debt and the bottom seemed to be getting closer every day.

Then MTV called after seeing us on Sally Jesse Raphael and bought the show. It went on to become the first program ever to go from the Web to TV. In 2002, we produced fifty-three episodes for the network and when the show was cancelled in October of that year, I decided to take the small pile of money we made on the show and make our first feature. That was the foundation for Super Size Me. The film went on to win me the Best Director prize in Documentary Competition at the 2004 Sundance Film Festival.

What’s my point in telling you all this? First, you can never dictate nor envision what ultimate path your career will take to get you to the “promised land.” Also, even when I was doing the crappiest of jobs, I realized that it was merely a piece of the bigger whole and that it was only on small step of a longer journey. I’ve known countless talents over the years who have given up on their dreams. Be true to you, stay the path, keep working, and you will reap the rewards.

What made you want to make a film exposing
the dangers of fast food consumption?

When I first got the idea of Super Size Me, I had no conception of what it would blossom into. I thought it was a funny concept that would make a great movie, be socially relevant, and tell a cohesive story. That’s it. For me, it wasn’t until I got deeper into the subject matter that I hoped for a film that could [create] change.

How did you get into Sundance?

We had a test screening before we sent our first cut to Sundance to ensure we were on the right track. Probably one month before the deadline. We had a second screening right after that to see what folks thought of the cut we sent. The audience loved it, so we kept moving forward. I think a lot of people send things too early in a rush to “make Sundance.” I believe you need to make the best movie you can first. If you can get it into Sundance, great, but if not, there are plenty of other great fests out there today.

Also, I was talking with a sales team early on in the process. My company was already repped by John Sloss’s law firm, so it was only natural that we would also go with his sales company, Cinetic. There are plenty of reputable companies that can represent your film to buyers, and having them come on early to start the ball rolling, lobbying on behalf of your film, is also a huge plus.

Don’t put all your eggs in the Sundance basket—there are countless fests around the world that may also be perfect for your film.

Do your research, talk to other filmmakers, get the lay of the land. I spoke to countless “alumni” about their experiences and asked what, in their opinions, we should do to guarantee the best Sundance experience possible. Everyone had a different answer and everyone was quite helpful in opening my eyes to the path we needed to be on at the festival. If you’re applying to the festival, first you should make sure the film you’re sending in is a good representation of the final product. You don’t need to send a finished film—we sent a rough cut, but at the time I would say the movie was about 85 percent there. Also, don’t put all your eggs in the Sundance basket—there are countless fests around the world that may also be perfect for your film. We kept sending the movie out. For me, I just wanted to get the movie out there for people to see. Anywhere.

What other festivals did you apply to?

We applied to everything, probably forty festivals in all—all over the world. We were accepted into about half of all them. It’s such a bittersweet position to be in when your film is well received, because while you want to show it everywhere, the reality is you shouldn’t. You need to be very smart about the festivals you plan to attend, outlining exactly what your goals are in attending the festival. Each festival offers a variety of pluses, so do your research and find out what would be best for your goals and your movie.

There are festivals that are prestigious, fests that have markets and enable you to interact with global buyers, fests that are key outlets for up-and-coming filmmakers, and there are fests that are all about taking a vacation. Know what you want to achieve, and picking the right fest for your film will be easy.

How did you prepare for your first Sundance screening?

We finished our movie five days before it was to premiere at Sundance. So, needless to say, we were freaking out a little. Prior to going to Sundance, I also hired a publicist to rep the film. It will cost you anywhere from $5,000 to $8,000 and is definitely worth every penny. I went with Dave Magdael and his team at TC:DM and Associates. Beginning in December we started putting together our marketing plan. This is another essential tool for Sundance because this will service the most important question you need to ask yourself: What do I want to get out of Sundance? For me, I wanted to (a) sell my movie, (b) create vast awareness about it and its subject matter, and (c) lay the foundation for future projects.

You have to realize that as much as your film is art—it’s also a product. They key to every product is developing and building the brand.

Having a plan in place will help you put together a cohesive strategy. You have to realize that as much as your film is art—it’s also a product. The key to every product being successful is developing and building the brand. It was my goal to make brand Super Size Me one of the most talked about at the festival. So, TC:DM and I discussed ways to get the word out. Luckily, we had hit upon a subject that most of America was passionate about. But that didn’t mean our work was over.

Here were the pieces of the Super Size Me marketing puzzle and what each meant to me and the film.

Now, why is this so important? Because once you get to the festival, you realize how overwhelming it would be to have to do everything on your own. Not only did I have my whole production team there, but now I had nineteen volunteers whose sole job would be to help promote the movie.

I had a wardrobe supervisor friend of mine contact Ride Snowboards, who graciously donated jackets to outfit Team Super Size Me. You couldn’t walk down Main Street without running into one of our team members. And they always had a pocket with postcards and another filled with buttons. Having all of them there definitely got the word out quicker and enabled us to accomplish more in less time.

How did you go about hiring your publicist?

Super Size Me poster art

As soon as my sales team Cinetic was hired, I sat down with them and asked about publicists. They’ve been selling movies for years and know all the top publicists. Together we whittled the list to three we all believed would have the right sensibility for our movie. I then called them all personally. Your publicist has to be able to not only connect with you but also your movie; you know after about two minutes whether you’re talking to the right person.

We were all in agreement that Dave Magdael was the best choice, and we scheduled a face-to-face meeting immediately. Dave is a great contrast to my personality. He is a very calm person. For me, especially in the heated madness of Sundance, I was ecstatic to have someone behind me who never got frazzled or bent out of shape. He and his team were so focused and they definitely maximized the exposure of both our film and me as the filmmaker.

How did your first screening go?

I was so nervous before the first screening. We had just transferred our film to an HD master five days earlier, so when the audience watched the print for the first time, it was my first time as well. Talk about nerve-racking. For me, I just tried to relax as much as I could before I went to the theater. We rented a house with a hot tub, so I spent a good hour in the tub before we had to go to the premiere. That’s a big thing at Sundance—you have to take care of yourself. At that point, the movie is out of your hands. There’s nothing you can do but watch, hope, and pray. I learned to let go.

Were you prepared for the questions from the audience?

I had rehearsed the answers to possible questions over and over in my head and in the shower—you know, like when we all give our Academy Awards acceptance speeches in the shower. So I think I was pretty prepared. Someone always throws you a curve, but be confident and trust in yourself. No one knows your movie better than you.

What did you do to get acquisition executives into your screenings?

Luckily, I didn’t have to do anything. By hiring a top-notch sales team, I had one less thing to worry about. They made the calls and got all the biggest executives into the screening. Cinetic really made my life easy at the festival.

What was important for you in determining what distributor was right for the film?

The most important thing I wanted was final cut. I wanted to make sure that whoever distributed the film would not alter it in any way. For me, this was very important in a distributor.

Second, the company had to be as passionate about the film as I was. The company we ended up going with, a tag team release with Roadside Attractions and Samuel Goldwyn, was everything I wanted.

They were passionate, they were persistent, and they got the film completely. They were also the very first company to come forward and make an offer. Being first to the dance is something I put great value in because it shows they are thinking for themselves and not just following other companies or the press.

Did you target certain distributors before the screening, and if so, how?

Cinetic had a short list of thirty to forty distributors that they felt may be right for Super Size Me. Over the next five days after the first screening, we narrowed the field until we were only left with a select handful. The deal was negotiated by John Sloss and me. We got our first deals on the table at Sundance, but the negotiations for the theatrical release continued for a few weeks following the festival as we hammered it out.

What did you look for in the deal?

Decent money up front, better money on the back end, and creative control. I can’t imagine what a nightmare this would have been had I not had an experienced sales team running the show. My advice is to get a sales agent. If your movie is good enough to get into Sundance, then it’s definitely good enough to get a sales rep.

Can you be specific about the deal you eventually agreed upon?

The combined value of our TV cable and theatrical sales (just for the United States) was over $1 million. Not bad for a movie that only cost us $65,000 to get to Sundance. We also negotiated a generous back-end percentage on the theatrical and video revenue. Most important to me, we held on to worldwide rights. We hired a foreign sales company just after Sundance (Fortissimo—they are fantastic!) and then, with their guidance and expertise, we sold many foreign territories separately: Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, Japan, Canada, Mexico, the Netherlands, Israel, Australia, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, Scandinavia, Russia, Poland, Switzerland, Belgium … the end result was much more money than we ever would have seen had we sold all global rights as one package.

How did you handle the vast number of press requests after Sundance?

Samuel Goldwyn’s PR guru, R. J. Millard, juggled the requests like a champion. He hired an additional New York company to support the East Coast requests and kept on Dave Magdael to handle all the West Coast action. Once again, the less stuff you have to worry about, the more time you have to focus on the movie—which is the most important element of the whole equation.

Morgan Spurlock

How were you expected to support the release of the film?

I traveled extensively to promote the film, both in the United States and abroad, to film festivals and to major media television outlets (like Oprah and the Today Show). Whatever it takes. The way I saw it, I’d already poured fourteen months of my life into this project—another year to really get the word out was the least I could do when it came to something as serious as the obesity epidemic in America.

What kind of impact do you feel the film had?

After Sundance, McDonald’s announced that they were doing away with Super Size portions. Now, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that this is a direct preemptive step by the company to lessen the blow my film had when it opened—even though the company said that “it [had] nothing to do with that film whatsoever.”

That was a tremendous accomplishment. Overwhelming, actually. When I heard the news, I jumped and screamed and yelled and ran around the office. The little guy had won, and Goliath was backpedaling.

So to all you filmmakers out there who think that what you say isn’t important or who feel that what you do cannot make a difference … guess again. You work in the most influential and powerful medium in the world—your actions can move mountains and your images can inspire generations to come. Don’t stop working. Persistence. Dedication. Time. And belief. These are the foundations of success, and these will help you change the world.

AJ SCHNACK
Documentary filmmaker

FILMS: Convention, Kurt Cobain: About a Son, Gigantic

FESTIVAL EXPERIENCE:Screened films at Sundance, SXSW, Toronto, and forty others

AWARDS:Independent Spirit Awards nomination DEALS: Balcony Releasing, Cowboy Pictures

“… once you’ve made some films, you begin to realize that there are all these people who have made their way without having Sundance shine its light upon them. So look down the line to the next festivals—SXSW, Berlin, Hot Docs, Rotterdam, SILVERDOCS, Los Angeles, etc.”

AJ Schnack grew up in Edwardsville, Illinois, a small town just outside St. Louis. In grade school he knew he wanted to make movies, but there was no direct route from Edwardsville to working in film. He studied journalism at the University of Missouri, but, two weeks before graduation, he moved to Los Angeles and got a job working in game shows for titans like Dick Clark and Merv Griffin. AJ then got involved in music videos, starting a production company with his partner, Shirley Moyers. They did more than a hundred projects over a five-year period. During that time, he made the feature-length documentary Gigantic about his friends Flansburgh and Linnell (the two Johns behind indie band They Might Be Giants).

AJ Schnack

AJ tells us about Gigantic and his critically acclaimed doc Kurt Cobain: About a Son, which premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival.

What led to the inspired approach you came up with for your doc Kurt Cobain: About a Son?

I’m really interested in photography and in visual storytelling in nonfiction filmmaking. Working with audio-only source material like Michael Azerrad’s intimate interviews with Kurt allowed us to remove the iconography of Kurt (the grunge, the flannel, the early ′90s video look) and place him in a context that reflected his presence as well as his absence.

How did your previous filmmaking experience help with making a music documentary?

The early music videos I was involved with were so run-and-gun. Sometimes it would just be two or three of us running around Copenhagen with 16mm cameras following a band through the streets. Having that experience and knowing that you had to move quickly and be flexible was crucial to both the highly constructed shooting of About a Son, where we shot on 35mm but would go to as many as eight or nine locations a day.

You also began with a short film that played the festival circuit. How did that experience help you when you approached your first doc feature, Gigantic?

My first short film was probably rejected by a dozen festivals before it premiered at the Los Angeles Short Film Festival. It had been like nine months of rejections, so I think I had about given up by that point. But then we got into L.A., and the film went on to have a nice long festival run. So, I think that I started to learn that each film has its own specific festival life, and you can’t get too wrapped up in getting into one particular festival. I actually think that we did some pretty smart things on Gigantic—reaching out to fans of They Might Be Giants, building an Internet presence, creating stuff we could sell (posters, special DVD surprise boxes filled with “random crap from the office”)—that we probably could have done better on About a Son. But the movies were so different—they are like polar opposites—that it was hard to imagine doing the same level of fun marketing on About a Son that seemed so natural on Gigantic.

As a festival veteran, did you still have to go through the application process? Can’t you just, you know, make a call and get in?

Kurt Cobain: About a Son poster art

It’s not quite that easy. I have good relationships with a lot of festival programmers, and I think it’s fair to say that they are interested in seeing my new work, so it’s not like I have to blindly submit my films anymore. But, not every film is right for every festival, and there are myriad reasons why different films do or don’t get programmed. I can have pretty straightforward conversations with programmers about why a film of mine works or doesn’t for a particular fest.

What really is the best way to get into Sundance?

Don’t get insane about it.

I talk a lot about not getting wrapped up in a single festival, and let’s be honest: The unnamed “single festival” is almost always Sundance. There are reasons why Sundance gets all the attention, not least because it’s a name brand—even your Grandma has heard of Sundance—and because of all the stories of people finding fame and fortune there. But, once you’ve made some films you begin to realize that there are all these people who have made their way without having Sundance shine its light upon them. So make a great film and then look down the line to the next festivals—SXSW, Berlin, Hot Docs, Rotterdam, SILVERDOCS, Los Angeles, etc.

What other festivals did you apply to?

On Gigantic we turned in an insanely long cut to Sundance for the 2002 festival. It must have been three hours, and I can’t imagine how embarrassing that cut must be. Then we kept working and turned in something far more sensible to SXSW, where Matt Dentler saw it and programmed it. After SXSW, we just applied everywhere, sometimes because festivals asked us to send them a cut, and had a great little run, playing at Seattle, CineVegas, St. Louis, and Denver, among others.

About a Son was very different. We submitted a pretty finished cut to Toronto, right at their deadline. Thom Powers, the documentary programmer there, saw it and called us pretty quickly to let us know that we were in. Then, because of the subject matter and because the film is such a nontraditional film about a rock star, we had a long, two-year-plus festival run, and in nearly every case, it’s been the festival requesting the film. After that, I don’t think we did very much in the way of submitting. It just became a film that was well known and well regarded on the festival circuit.

You’ve done your own publicity, but when does it make sense to hire a publicist?

For Gigantic we did our own publicity. Shirley would get in touch with the festival and ask for a press list and ask them to set up interviews. We were pretty brazen about it, but it worked to our benefit most of the time. The word would get out to They Might Be Giants fans and we’d have a good crowd. Then they’d go online and buy posters or sign up for the DVD.

For About a Son, we worked with David Magdael and his team when we premiered at Toronto. I don’t think you can reasonably go to Toronto or Sundance without a good publicist who understands that landscape. It’s just way too big, with too much going on—both for you as a filmmaker as well as for people who are writing about film. You need to have someone who can be your liaison.

What really creates hype for a film at a festival?

For years there were all these stories about how people would go to Sundance and do insane or creative things on Main Street to grab attention for their films. But I’ve been to Sundance a bunch of times as a viewer or as a film writer, and most of that stuff—and there’s a lot of it—strikes me as just noise. I don’t really remember any gimmicky thing that has stuck with me for longer than a day or so. And nothing has made me rush off to a screening. What makes me see a film is strong word-of-mouth. I’d recommend targeting (nicely and not in a badgering, hectoring way) a few film writers who you like and trying to get them to come to one of your first screenings at a festival. If they like your film and write about it quickly, that can build buzz faster than any flyer or funny costume.

What’s that first public screening like?

On both of my first two films, I was extremely nervous and emotional for the first public screenings. It’s hard work making a film, and usually your team is there to share the moment with you, so it can be overwhelming to all be together to see your work screened for the first audience. I find a few drinks help.

How did you secure distribution for Gigantic?

Our sales rep was Jeff Dowd, and he really looked out for Shirley and me. There were so many things that we didn’t know coming in to this new world, and he really protected us and guided us. We still had to do a lot of work, though, which I think some filmmakers think won’t happen. Like, “the sales rep will take care of everything.” Well, maybe that’s true if you sell in a bidding war at Sundance, but for everyone else it takes a lot of work on your part.

For Gigantic, we had a harder time getting people to come to the screening at SXSW, because frankly it’s harder to get distributors to come to screenings in Austin. It’s not known as a marketplace in the same way that Park City is. So after SXSW was over we had a screening in New York City that some distributors, including Gary Hustwit from Plexifilm, came to. Gary wanted to acquire the film for DVD. Shirley and I really wanted Cowboy Pictures to distribute the film. And Cowboy and Plexi had just worked together on the documentary I Am Trying to Break Your Heart. So everything ended up coming together, and that became a great partnership.

How did that compare with About a Son?

We had vastly different experiences on Gigantic and About a Son, primarily because About a Son was premiering in Toronto and it was a film that a lot of distributors were interested in taking a look at. But because About a Son was not exactly what people thought they’d be getting from a rock documentary, we had a tough time with distributors.

On About a Son, we had a lot of people working. Jared Moshe, one of the producers at our partner company, closed a deal with a Japanese company right after we premiered. Our U.S. sales rep was Josh Braun, and he pulled together our DVD deal and our cable TV deal. I reached out to my friends Connie White and Greg Kendall at Balcony and we worked out a deal with them to handle theatrical distribution. And our music supervisor, Linda Cohen, got us a great soundtrack deal with the Seattle indie label Barsuk Records. Meanwhile, we had a foreign sales agent who got us deals in the UK, France, Australia, Mexico, and a bunch of other countries. Even though that film was a difficult sell, it was hard to keep track of everything that was going on.

None of these deals were for a ton of money. A couple of the elements of About a Son were low six figures, which was great, but not anything that gave us as filmmakers a big return.

Once a film has distribution, how important is an aggressive festival tour for promoting a documentary?

For every film except those that were acquired soon after their premiere, their distribution comes after they played a number of festivals. At this point, you’ve probably played every A-list and even B-list festival that you’re going to get into. Now you’re starting to get invited to smaller, regional festivals where there may not be an art house. Playing that fest—even if you’ve never heard of it—could be your only opportunity to play in that area, which may get your film stocked in a local video store or purchased by ten people who went to see it. Plus there may be small screening fees that you can get from a festival. It may only be a few hundred dollars, but that can be helpful.

I’ve been surprised both with Gigantic and with About a Son as to how much work fell to me during the festival and theatrical runs. And a lot of times, people just expect that you’ll work for free, because it’s your film and you want to get it out there. Of course, you do want to get it seen, in the proper context and with the right DVD extras and marketing and trailer. But unless you’ve been acquired by someone with deep pockets, you have to stay on top of all of that—without much in the way of payment—if you care about that side of the process.

Are docs finally … hot?

Sometimes I feel that there’s a built-in bias toward nonfiction filmmakers at festivals because more and more documentaries reach audiences largely through their festival run. So, they tend to travel with their films longer and work harder to bring audiences out. I actually recently went to a festival in Europe that screened both nonfiction and narrative, and the festival paid for all the doc filmmakers to come but not for the narrative filmmakers.

What is the best way to handle the press or the occasional negative reviews?

Try not to get too upset about bad reviews. They’re going to happen–that’s just the nature of things. You’ve sent your art out into the world and now critics are going to comment. You can hope that each review, even the negative ones, would be thoughtful and constructive, but the reality is that a bad review may be mean-spirited or miss the point of your work entirely. The thing is to have restraint and not respond. I’ve seen a lot of filmmakers respond to critics over negative reviews, and it almost always makes the filmmaker look bad.

I’ve seen a lot of filmmakers respond to critics over negative reviews, and it almost always makes the filmmaker look bad.

Other than that, be friendly. Be yourself. Be charming. Don’t be a pain in the ass.

PAUL RACHMAN
Documentary filmmaker

FILMS: American Hardcore, Four Dogs Playing Poker, Drive Baby Drive

FESTIVAL EXPERIENCE: Screened films at Sundance, Palm Springs International, Avignon

DEALS: American Hardcore acquired by Sony Pictures Classics

“The best advice I can give is to make the best film possible, apply, and then forget about it. Go back to working on your film or just enjoying your life.”

Paul Rachman’s pursuit of filmmaking coincided with the music scene of the early 1980s. Heavily influenced by punk during his formative years, he went on to direct over one hundred music videos for Alice in Chains, the Replacements, Roger Waters, Pantera, and Kiss, among others. Paul then made Drive Baby Drive, a 35mm black-and-white thriller, which he also wrote and financed. The film was rejected by Sundance, so in 1994, Paul joined forces with Dan Mirvish, John Fitzgerald, Shane Kuhn, and Peter Baxter to organize the Slamdance Film Festival—Anarchy in Utah. This guerrilla film festival was created as a protest to point out how commercial the Sundance Film Festival had become. In 1999, through the help of an agent, he was hired to direct his first feature film, Four Dogs Playing Poker, starring Forrest Whittaker, Balthazar Getty, and Tim Curry.

Paul Rachman

Paul talks about his festival experiences and how he got American Hardcore into Sundance.

What inspired you to make American Hardcore?

In 1999, after the difficult experience of making a feature film as a director for hire on Four Dogs Playing Poker, I moved back to New York City and really wanted to sink my teeth into something close, personal, and very independent. My friend Steve Blush, a rock journalist, had been telling me about his book of interviews with members of the hardcore scene that he started writing in 1995. I kept telling him of my idea of making it into a documentary film. He liked that idea and trusted me as a friend and member of the punk scene. This was in part the story of my life, too, particularly the values and ethics that came out of hardcore punk: Fuck the establishment, DIY, speak your mind, etc. They were also the same values that Slamdance adhered to early on.

The project was perfect for me at the time, and I really felt and understood the voice that this film could have. I also still had a lot of footage from back in the day that hadn’t been seen yet.

Steven finished the book in 2000. I proceeded to put a proposal together to try and raise some money. I took it around to all the usual suspects in independent film, people I had come to know through my years in L.A. and in Park City during the film festivals. Everyone said no. I could not raise a single penny or get the slightest serious interest from anyone. I guess it didn’t help that the cover of the book was an image of a kid with a bloodied face singing into a microphone. In that moment I said to myself, “Fuck the film business. I don’t need them to make this movie, just like the bands in American Hardcore didn’t need the music business to make and play their music.” That attitude and mandate gave me the energy and confidence to start shooting American Hardcore on miniDV in December of 2001.

By 2003, we had a twenty-minute work-in-progress, which we took to IFP (Independent Feature Project) in New York, and again we were not able to raise a single fucking penny. But the unveiling at IFP created a buzz in the punk world, and we knew we had an audience. We continued shooting and editing, and at the same time I relied on my editing experience to earn a living and finance the film.

How did your previous filmmaking experience help with making a music documentary?

The most important aspects for the director of a documentary are to know your subject and have the people involved trust you. So besides my obvious experience as a music video and narrative filmmaker, and my ability to shoot and edit, the fact that all or most of the people in the American Hardcore movie knew me or knew who I was made them comfortable and very accessible. A lot of them had either slept on my floor back in the day when they played shows in Boston or I knew them from my travels with bands on the road. These were by no means easy people to deal with. Most of them still carried the hardcore punk ethic of keeping things to yourself. They still carried some anger toward the scene and the music establishment and how they’d been ripped off, and it was not easy to track some of these people down. You had to know where to look for them, how to look for them, and how to approach them. Once we got the bigger players from the scene, such as Ian MacKaye from Minor Threat, Henry Rollins and Gregg Ginn from Black Flag, and HR from the Bad Brains, then that showed the others that this film was okay and things got easier.

What is the most common mistake filmmakers make with regard to documentaries?

I think the hardest thing with a documentary film is keeping focused on the subject and the story and letting the film take the time it needs to become that story. Obstacles sometimes present themselves, and the hardships they present might actually make for a better film, so don’t avoid them.

What insights did you gain from having been on both ends of the spectrum—as a person involved with a festival and a filmmaker?

Dan Mirvish and I were always founders-at-large of the Slamdance Film Festival. In the first years of the festival, I was involved mostly with the programming of the films because I was still very busy directing music videos. Now that I have moved to New York City, my official title is co-founder/East Coast director, and along with East Coast manager Tom Soper, I organize New York screenings and events to keep the New York Slamdance alumni filmmakers in touch with each other. I have found that it is always easier to give good advice to others than to yourself. In the years of my continuing involvement with Slamdance, I have always kept focus on the filmmakers and their projects. You learn so much from going to Park City year after year and hearing about films in production that want to apply to Slamdance. I’ve gained the ability to see between the lines, in those shady areas between the difficulty a filmmaker faces completing a film, how programmers watch, react to, and choose a film, and how the industry might receive a film at its premiere. The lines between these areas are very blurry and constantly changing, and the best piece of advice I find myself giving is to never ever give up.

Besides filling out the application, writing the check, and mailing your video into Sundance, what else did you do to ensure your best chance for acceptance into the festival?

I was forever certain that I was blacklisted from Sundance because of my involvement with Slamdance. So in my case, with American Hardcore, all I did do was fill out the application, write a check, and send in my rough cut. I was completely prepared and expecting my rejection letter. I proceeded to figure out how I could screen the film at Slamdance as a special screening and bring some bands in.

After Thanksgiving in 2005 I went on a short vacation to the Dominican Republic with my fiancée (now my wife), Karin Hayes, who I met at Slamdance in 2003, where she won the Audience Award for her film Missing Piece, now titled The Kidnapping of Ingrid Betancourt and broadcast on HBO/Cinemax. On the last day of our trip I thought it might be a good idea to check the home answering machine for any emergencies. On the main drag of the dirt road beach town we went to a phone center just as it was closing, and there were two or three messages from Trevor Groth from Sundance telling me that they had accepted American Hardcore and that they were concerned that they hadn’t heard back from me yet, that the press release was going out and they needed to know ASAP. I was totally thrown for a loop—everything in my normal life at that moment changed.

I called Trevor back and before accepting I asked him if he knew who I was with regard to Slamdance. I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be kicked out of Sundance the next day. At first he had no idea, then he put two and two together and realized it, but he assured me it did not matter because he loved the film and so did the other Sundance programmers. Before accepting I also asked for a Salt Lake City screening slot in addition to the Park City screenings because I felt it was important to bring the film down to the real punks in Salt Lake City. They agreed and I accepted.

Any advice to others on applying to Sundance?

The one thing I learned from American Hardcore is that the Sundance programmers choose films that they love and admire for a particular reason at that moment. Contrary to the myth that you have to know someone or be part of a Sundance clique, they really do not program films based on who the director is or who the producer is and whatnot. If they like the film and it fits the program for that year, it will rise to the top and be selected. So the best advice I can give is to make the best film possible, apply, and then forget about it. Go back to working on your film or just enjoying your life. Today there are a lot of ways besides a Sundance premiere to get your film recognized.

Make the best film possible, apply, and then forget about it. Go back to working on your film or just enjoying your life.

What other festivals did you apply to?

Initially, the only other festivals we applied to beyond Sundance were Slamdance and SXSW because we knew they would also be great premieres for the film.

Were you concerned about appying to other festivals before you got word from Sundance?

No. We knew that the film would not be ready until January at the earliest. If we didn’t get into Sundance or for that matter Slamdance—the rule we set for Slamdance years ago is that everyone, including staff and founders, have to go through the submission process—then we would probably have gone to Park City guerrilla-style and tried to have a screening somewhere and a kickass punk rock show with the bands from the movie. Luckily we didn’t have to go that route, because it would have been difficult to pull off.

How did you prepare for your first Sundance screening?

The most important thing about our Sundance world premiere is that it was just that—a true world premiere. Nobody at all, other than our film sales reps, the Sundance programming team, and a handful of people who gave us notes during the rough cut stage, had seen the film. I fielded a lot of requests before the festival from distributors, agents, reps, and all sorts of people for a DVD screener or a screening and I turned them all down. The film had generated a little bit of buzz, and I wanted to build on that buzz for the world premiere.

If you get into Sundance, or Slamdance for that matter, and you have a little bit of buzz and a film that distributors want to see, then that becomes your most powerful asset. As a filmmaker going to a major film festival attended by major distributors who are there to buy, you must 100 percent believe in your film and its position in that market. Guard your premiere—the premiere will only have the impact you seek if it is a true premiere for the distributors. Most distributors want to see films before the festival to really just start crossing films off their list. That information, especially if it’s bad, sometimes travels within the industry—somehow word gets out through the network of acquisition executives and their assistants. The impact a film has when it’s seen with an audience of two hundred or four hundred people in a theater is totally different than when someone watches a DVD on his computer while answering e-mails and taking phone calls. This can be a deciding factor in the commercial life of a film.

Guard your premiere—the premiere will only have the impact you seek if it is a true premiere for the distributors.

What did you do to hype your film at Sundance

At Sundance, you want the hype to at least appear as if it is coming from the fans and audiences and not just marketed directly from the filmmakers all the time.

It is very important to create a viable story for your film. That story is what is going to be communicated, repeated, and hyped by the film community. For American Hardcore the punk rock community was already buzzing about the film, but in reality that is a pretty insular and small community. We wanted American Hardcore to be more that just a DVD we would sell to punk rock fans. We had to find another way to “break” a more mainstream story about the film.

An incredible opportunity ended up presenting itself. A couple of days after the Sundance lineup was announced, Charles Lyons, a journalist friend of mine who regularly writes about independent film for Variety and the New York Times, called me because he needed help editing a reel. We decided to meet for lunch so I could get his materials. Over that lunch I mentioned to him that American Hardcore got into Sundance. His eyes immediately lit up and he said that that was fantastic and that there was a story there because I was a Slamdance founder and was going to Sundance. He asked if he could pitch it to the New York Times. I agreed, and on December 20, 2005, there was an article on the front page of the New York Times Arts section that had a picture of me and the headline “Sundance or Slamdance? A Rebel Director Gets His Pick.”

Within a couple of days that same story was picked up by AP, Reuters, and AFP and was basically reprinted in newspapers around the world. This was a month before the festival and was probably the most important thing that happened for the film in terms of setting it up. Phone calls kept coming from people who wanted to see the film, and there were more requests for interviews—all sorts of stuff started happening.

Not everybody has a journalist friend who happens to call for an unrelated favor and writes for the New York Times, but he saw a story there. Stories get picked up by wire services from newspapers all over the world, even small-town papers, so definitely try to think through these types of opportunities. Finding the story for your film—one that can be mainstream—is probably the best thing you can do to set up your film.

Did you hire a publicist?

American Hardcore DVD box art.

No, we did not hire a publicist for Sundance. First of all, we couldn’t really afford it, and best of all, the New York Times article put us on the radar of the global press community that would be reporting at Sundance. Until that article I was a little worried about the publicist issue. I really did not know any savvy Sundance-type publicists who knew anything about the underground history and the punk rock community that American Hardcore is about. I also knew that any music biz publicist who’s never been to Sundance would not get us anything because they do not have the established connections needed to make things happen there. I think sometimes a publicist is only as good as the information you give them to work with. Some also tend to take on too many films, and the competition for press is very intense. I’ve seen and heard of many films and filmmakers who spent $5,000 to $10,000 on a publicist and end up with hardly any mentions. This was not the road I was willing to take.

So, then, how did you do your own publicity?

We asked Karin [Hayes] if she would be the publicist. She and her filmmaking partner, Victoria Bruce, had done their own publicity at Slamdance in 2003 and had done a good job. Karin was also very organized, thorough, and had been to Park City before. We created an e-mail address for her, made some business cards, and she started cold-calling. She called and e-mailed people on a film publicity list we had compiled from other filmmakers and friends, plus contacts she had from her film’s publicity in 2003, and magazines, newspapers, and blogs that had anything to do with music and/or film. These included Variety, Filmmaker magazine, Premiere magazine, Salt Lake City Tribune, Rolling Stone, Time, Newsweek, Indiewire, Sundance Channel, IFC, MTV, CNN, and others. Many people were very receptive to the calls and e-mails because they had heard of the film and the “Sundance vs. Slamdance” story in the New York Times article. Karin had to figure out why they should be interested in the film beyond that article, and since we planned to bring the bands Circle Jerks and D.O.A. (both featured in the film) to Park City to perform, that became part of the pitch for a story. Also, we discovered that many people we contacted in the press had been connected to the hardcore era in some way—they had been fans, they had heard of the bands, etc. We scheduled some magazine interviews and made contact for other interviews to happen in Park City.

Once we got to Park City, we followed up and also received calls for interviews from press that we had not yet been in contact with. We worked like crazy the six weeks prior to Sundance, and once we got to Sundance we were running from place to place, but we got a lot of coverage.

Now let me get back to the film publicity list and also dealing with the Sundance press office. There’s a constantly mutating list of journalists and press people with contact info that tends to get passed along and vetted within the independent film community. Most filmmakers who have been to Sundance or Slamdance and have relied on self-promotion have that list in some form. Getting a complete contact list for the press attending Sundance is the ideal, but it’s often an impossible task. I think the Sundance press office may have stopped handing it out to filmmakers several years ago after complaints from the press corps. So, instead, we worked from a list from the previous festival year that was not too out-of-date.

If you are going to do your own publicity, it is very important to have the Sundance press office recognize you as capable and professional. Karin was our designated publicist, and she was the only contact person for the Sundance press office and the press. She was very professional and organized, is a great communicator, and is incredibly charming and likeable—she is also my wife! These are very important qualities if you want to generate results during these twelve mad days of the film festival. The Sundance press office can be helpful in putting interested press in touch with your publicist, but for the best results, don’t rely on them for everything. It’s up to you to generate your own press.

There is also a sponsorship office at Sundance, which is helpful in finding companies wanting to sponsor parties and films. We did get a few beverage sponsors and some recommendations of venues from them.

What would you have done differently in preparing for your film’s debut?

More time to contact more media outlets would have been good, but I think we really did all we could. We premiered in a 250-seat theater at the Holiday Village Cinema, and the premiere screening had been sold out for weeks. Our sales reps, Diana Holtzberg and Jan Rofekamp of Films Transit International, got all the important distributors there, and the fact that nobody had seen the film made the premiere that much better.

Any advice you’d like to pass on to other filmmakers regarding the creation of hype?

The best advice I can give anyone about creating hype is do not limit yourself in any way. It is very, very hard work, and if you do not feel completely exhausted, then there is probably a lot more you can do. Posters, flyers, business cards, any other promo tool that goes with your film (it doesn’t have to be expensive—creative is better)—always have them handy. Find the niche market and audience that relates to your film and tap into that to help you spread the word. Use all the power of the Internet and the networking communities, such as MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter, to reach out and create your audience. The word about your film can spread rapidly. Make a trailer, send out e-mails and notifications about the film. Reach your hometown or neighborhood through schools, clubs, and community centers—any type of communication about your film will spread. We got as many bands as possible in the film to mention us on their websites, Facebook, and MySpace pages. Also find the community in Salt Lake City and near Park City that relates to your film. Be sure to reach out to them before you head to Sundance to get them excited about your film and help support it with their attendance and word of mouth. Same thing for any other city where your film plays.

Use all the power of the Internet and the network communities, such as Facebook, My Space, and Twitter, to reach out and create your audience.

Were you nervous at the screening, and if so, how did you deal with it?

It wasn’t my first premiere, but of course I was very nervous. You have to be able to let go. The nerves really set in during the final hour before the screening. That is also very busy time. At Sundance there is usually some kind of media present at the premiere, so you are usually doing some interviews and dealing with people wanting tickets, which keeps your mind off the nerves, but underneath it all the nervousness is building. If you are doing your own publicity, or have friends with you helping out, designate some people to make sure that all the distributors that need tickets get them and get into your film. The ticket situation was extremely hectic in the final twenty minutes before the film started, but Diana Holtzberg, Karin, and our friend Matt Scott helped out tremendously with this, and we were able to get everyone in. Once the film starts rolling, it is actually a big relief. You get the feeling that your are finally letting go of something you have been preparing for for years, in the making of your film. It is the beginning of the life of the film as a film for audiences, and that feels great.

Hardcore fans get tattooed with the name of the film.

Did you feel you were treated differently as a doc filmmaker?

The Sundance staff treated us the same as they did the narrative filmmakers—there was no difference where that was concerned.

We came into the festival with enough buzz that we felt we were getting a fair amount of attention. That was due to all the work we had done before getting to Sundance. It is very important to work as hard as you can on things you want to happen for you at Sundance way before you get on a plane to Park City. American Hardcore was not in competition at Sundance—something people do not realize. We were in the midnight film section. I think that was a blessing for the film—it took the pressure off of worrying about whether we would win an award. Also, the midnight section is actually one of the most successful in terms of making sales. The Blair Witch Project and Saw are both films that premiered as midnight films. Also, our film was music related, so that automatically has a specific subsection of interest.

What did you learn from that first screening?

I learned that it is impossible to get every one of your friends into your world premiere. I had a lot of friends in Park City that I had made over the years from coming to Slamdance, and I definitely did not have enough tickets. This is always a hard thing to deal with, especially if you have a large cast and crew in attendance. So, when ticket sales for Sundance become available online, buy as many as you can among yourself and friends that you know will attend. The other thing I learned is that it is very exciting to have a world premiere at an A-list festival. It really felt special showing the film for the first time, and I could feel the excitement in the theater.

When ticket sales for Sundance become available online, buy as many as you can among yourself and friends that you know will attend.

Who negotiated the deal for American Hardcore?

We had Diana Holtzberg from Films Transit International represent the film for the U.S. domestic deal and Jan Rofekamp, also of Films Transit International, handle international sales. We also had a legal team that were not at the festival—Marc Glick and Steven Briemer, who were really invaluable in negotiating with the distributor’s lawyers once we entered into a deal. I cannot emphasize enough how important a good entertainment lawyer is in closing a deal, and preferably one who has dealt with indie films and the level of distributor who wants your film. A lawyer is going to really go over every line of the contract in detail.

How did the deal come about?

We got three or four offers for the film immediately after the premiere. We then met each of those distributors the next day or so, when they gave us their pitch as to why they wanted the film, what they planned to do with it, and they made an offer. A lot of these offers can sound very complicated because beyond just the dollar amount of the advance, which is sometimes all a film will see for a very long time, these offers go into detail about the deal structure, territories, points, television, DVD, and Internet. It is very wise to have a good sales representative who knows exactly what the offer really is.

The initial offers for American Hardcore were low. We still had a lot of the film to pay off, so we started to negotiate for better offers. It is very important to know your bottom line—the least amount you are willing to take—and keep that number close to your chest. We decided that we wanted a deal that would do no less than pay the amount we had invested in the film so far plus all the costs that we would incur to deliver the film to a distributor—35mm print, 5.1 sound mix, HD versions, and all the rights and clearances for the images and music, as well as all the legal and business expenses. While we shot and edited the film on a low budget, to deliver to a major distributor like Sony Pictures Classics you are essentially going to deliver a product that works with the studio system. They want a lot of paperwork and physical materials that can easily cost almost an additional $200,000, so no matter how cheap you make a movie, once you sell it to a major distributor those costs become very real. We were able to negotiate the price from high five figures to mid-six figures, which met our minimum requirements to cover the costs.

We accepted an offer from Sony Pictures Classics for five territories: the United States, Canada, Mexico, Germany, and Australia. We did not sign the deal until the end of March 2006, two months later. It sometimes takes a long time to negotiate these deals to the point of signing, and then the physical delivery starts. We did not see our first advance money until May 2006.

What did you learn about closing a distribution deal?

If you’re lucky enough to get decent offers, try to leave Sundance or Slamdance with a deal of some kind at some stage of negotiation. You might not close the deal at the festival, but at least leave with one in tow that can be signed in the coming weeks. If you do not get any offers at all then you need to start planning for the next festival, which will usually come forth since a lot of festivals around the country and the world look to Sundance for programming. You might also want to consider specific industry screenings after Park City that you set up yourself in Los Angeles and New York for distributors that might not have seen the film yet. Maybe start sending out some DVDs to potential alternate distributors or think about self-distribution on DVD and the Web.

Any things you would have done differently?

I think we should have tried to make more time to set up more international deals at Sundance, as most of the main distributors in the world are there. We got a good Japanese deal with King Records in addition to the Sony deal, but some European territories were not sold for a long time and some still remain available.

How were you expected to support the release of the film?

The one thing that we were very happy about with Sony Pictures Classics is that we were included in every step of the process: artwork approval, marketing plans. Steve Blush, the writer and co-producer of the film, and I went on a fifteen-day promotional tour across the United States to do press as the film was unrolling theatrically. We also had to continue pushing the film ourselves to the underground punk community using e-mail blasts, MySpace, and Facebook. These Internet networks worked very well for us in terms of raising awareness in different cities as the film opened in those cities. Do not leave everything up to the distributor—they might be releasing two or three films at the same time—so you want to do as much as possible yourself, and push your film to the max.

How did getting a deal affect your ability to play other festivals?

Sony Pictures Classics back in 2006 did not want the film to play any more festivals in their territories, particularly the United States, until the film was ready to be released to theaters. Their policy might be different now because marketing plans tend to change with time. We had to pull the film out of SXSW at their request, which was very difficult. We loved that festival and the people who run it, and we also felt that Austin had an important punk scene back in the day. SPC wanted to release the film in the fall, so we had a big launch at the Toronto Film Festival in September of 2006, the week before the film opened at the Angelika theater in New York and the Nuart theater in Los Angeles.

Can you describe your whirlwind film festival tour?

We decided to do a fall European tour with the film, which took us from Spain on up through to Norway. We traveled to eight countries in just under a month, spending anywhere from three to ten days at various festivals. The most important aspect of going on a such a tour is to coordinate a schedule of film festivals that can work one after another, and to get the festivals to pay for as much as possible, particularly flights and accommodations.

I remember when I toured film festivals around the world in 1994–2000. Film festivals back then had a lot more money, and now it has become harder to get much out of them, especially transatlantic flights, and especially if you have a short film. What I did was buy a ticket from New York to Barcelona—Spain was our first festival stop—and a return to New York from Oslo, Norway, our last film festival of the tour. All the travel and lodging in between was paid for by the different European festivals. If you can, try to organize this type of festival route. There are a lot of film festivals in Europe and Asia that will work this way, because it ensures their best chance of getting the latest festival films on the circuit. Again, go for press, hand out flyers, work with your local distributor if you have one. We tried and mostly achieved our goal of having at least one major interview or article in the biggest newspaper in each city we played.

What was your best festival experience?

To avoid a bad screening, make sure you do a very elaborate tech check with the projectionist who will be running your film.

Sundance. Because it was our world premiere, we were able to get a decent deal, and the global film community was there. After that I think Stockholm and Oslo were awesome—they know how to party, the people are great, and they love rock and roll. A lot of bands turned out to the film in those cities. Thinking back, even the worst experience was fun and rewarding in some odd way. I was lucky enough not to have a bad festival run with American Hardcore. To avoid a bad screening, make sure you do a very elaborate tech check with the projectionist who will be running your film. Check for brightness and color levels, sound levels, and aspect ratio—meaning the size of the picture being projected. This way, if you’ve done the work to pack the theater, you can avoid any bad scenarios through diligence.

What’s the secret to surviving Sundance as a filmmaker?

At Sundance, rent a house if you can. Keeping your team together is much more productive. Rent a car and get a friend to drive or hire a local PA to be a driver, especially if you’ve got cast members to shuttle around or a big party to put together.

A Sundance or Slamdance premiere is not the end all or be all of launches for a new film. There are several important festivals, and there are many European festivals, such as Berlin, and Edinburgh in Scotland, that program indie films and can attract distributors. In the United States, the opportunities are really opening up with various forms of self-distribution using the Web to reach out. More and more distributors will be looking at films that start breaking out that way.

SETH GORDON
Director, documentary filmmaker

FILMS: The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters, Four Christmases, Suicide Squad

FESTIVAL EXPERIENCE: Screened films at Slamdance, SXSW, Seattle, Fantasia, Newport Beach

DEALS: Sold the doc-version remake rights for The King of Kong to New Line

“Don’t make it ‘more commercial’ don’t ‘dumb it down’ don’t guess what buyers will like.”

Seth Gordon discovered film while working as a teacher in Kenya during his escape from college. An admitted video game fan, he caught the documentary film bug after capturing a series of unexpected events with his Hi-8 camera during his stay in Kenya. From that experience, he learned to love documentary storytelling.

Seth Gordon

Seth tells us about his journey from the arcade to Slamdance to theatrical distribution for his amazing video-game documentary, The King of Kong.

How did The King of Kong come about?

I love video games and the eccentric people that master them. That an archetypal David and Goliath story would emerge in that world was a surprise to us all. Beyond that I think I was inspired by the many great verité docs over the years: anything by the Maylses or Pennebaker, for example. I also love character docs like Hands on a Hard Body.

I never thought our film was especially important and was just doing it for the love of the topic, not for the politics or the need to inform. I think that allowed us to focus on Steve and Billy’s personal story, which ended up being the point. I don’t particularly like issues films and never wanted ours to be one.

Still from The King of Kong

Did you have a plan for The King of Kong when you began submitting to film festivals?

Nope. We were shocked that covering this material yielded a film anyone wanted to watch. We applied to Toronto with a rough cut and got rejected. We then applied to Slamdance and Sundance simultaneously only to learn that another video game documentary, Chasing Ghosts, had been accepted early to Sundance. We held our breath and hoped to get into Slamdance and we did.

You submitted the film to Sundance, and you were rejected, yet were accepted by Slamdance. Were you disappointed?

Not really. We’d had films in both festivals before, and buyers all sort of think of Park City as one big market. We knew we were at a historical disadvantage but were confident in our friends’ response to early screenings on Kong that it was fun and special.

How did this change your plan, and how did you prepare for your first Slamdance screening?

We thought if we waited until Park City we would be screwed, not because we were in Slamdance but because we heard there was another video game doc in the marketplace. So, with the help of Endeavor (our sales rep), we arranged a screening in L.A. before Thanksgiving and invited buyers to attend. We thought it would be better to sell it before Park City if possible, since we had no idea what the competing doc was about and wanted to beat their sales team to the punch if possible.

What did you do to hype your film at Slamdance?

We actually found out the deal was going to close with New Line on our drive up to Park City. That was a long drive with a lot of phone calls, and we were relieved to arrive in Park City close to a done deal. As the timing turned out, we signed papers the night of our first screening. That week was just about trying to get people to come see our film, and we made posters and postcards, which were eventually used as our theatrical one-sheets.

We couldn’t afford a publicist, but Endeavor helped with some of those duties because they have those connections, and they arranged for the early screening. Publicity never came up before the eventual theatrical release of the film the next fall.

The King of Kong had incredible buzz in Park City. Who helped this happen?

If your film rocks, make sure the sales agencies (CAA, WME Entertainment, UTA) know about it long before Park City. The market is designed to sell quality material, so they will find you if you make even the slightest effort to reach out.

When you learned that Chasing Ghosts, another video-game-related documentary, was playing at Sundance, how did you respond?

We held an early screening in Los Angeles and invited a bunch of buyers. The eventual buyer did not attend that screening, but instead a friend of the assistant of the executive who eventually coordinated the sale did.

Ultimately, when you became aware of Chasing Ghosts, did you feel it might hurt your chances of getting distribution?

Absolutely. By the time we heard we got into Slamdance, we heard that they’d gotten into Sundance, and were very afraid that only one of the two docs would sell, so we got into gear. It completely changed the way we played the game.

Who negotiated the deal?

Endeavor arranged everything and has all the relationships, and I would recommend their team to anyone. Graham Taylor ran point and was an all-star quarterback. Mark Ankner was a critical team member as well. It became clear early on that remake rights for Kong were as valuable as the documentary itself. Remake rights for a doc are worthless without the life rights of the subjects involved, so we had to race to arrange for those as well.

The King of Kong poster art

What did you look for in the deal?

Our fallback position was Netflix/self-distribution. Several of our friends have had success with this model. We wanted the best advance and the highest offer for remake rights, since our doc had that potential. I’ve heard that minimum guaranteed screens is a useful deal point, but we didn’t push that one. All I can say is the advance is the only thing that matters and very likely the only money you will see.

The advance is the only thing that matters and very likely the only money you will see.

How were you, as the filmmaker, expected to support the release of the film? Are you ever really done when the film hits multiple outlets, such as theatrical, DVD, and cable?

I’m definitely not done, since I’m slated to direct the remake for New Line. I was expected to do any-and everything to support the film, and I gladly obliged. What got a far greater response than my presence, however, was the presence of one of the film’s subjects, Steve Wiebe, on the few occasions when he could attend festivals and screenings.

What was your best festival experience?

SXSW was the most fun by far, with the best venues for screenings. In my opinion, Sundance is vastly overrated, and the film-selection process is somewhat corrupt due to the amount of money a rare few films fetch in that marketplace.

If your closest friend were entering the world of independent film, what advice would you offer?

Follow your gut and make the film you want to make and don’t try to tailor it in any way other than honoring what it wants to be. If that doesn’t make sense, you’re probably already dead in the water. Don’t make it “more commercial,” don’t “dumb it down,” don’t guess what buyers will like. Be rooted and in that way radical. The more original your film, the better.

LINCOLN RUCHTI
Documentary filmmaker

FILMS: Chasing Ghosts: Beyond the Arcade

FESTIVAL EXPERIENCE: Screened at Sundance, Los Angeles Film Festival, Austin Film Festival

DEALS: Sold Chasing Ghosts to Showtime

“Our main mistake was taking the competition a little too lightly.”

Lincoln Ruchti, the director of that other video-game documentary, talks bluntly about the Sundance premiere of Chasing Ghosts and having to deal with unexpected challenges.

What inspired you to make Chasing Ghosts?

My producing partner urged me to start a video-game project because gaming is so hot now. When I discovered a picture of the 1982 arcade champions, I knew I wanted to make the film. I felt like with the picture I finally had an emotional connection. All these guys wanted to do was compete for a living, and of course we know it didn’t work out so great for them. That type of story appeals to me.

Chasing Ghosts poster art

What is the one mistake documentary filmmakers make
that you were able to avoid?

I guess we picked a topic that kind of sold itself. Meaning as long as the final product didn’t totally suck, there would be people interested in seeing it.

What mistakes did you make that you wished you’d learned before?

Our main mistake was taking the competition a little too lightly. We knew there were other people out there making docs on some of the guys in our film, and we should have pursued and considered that a bit more. We just assumed that we were making the definitive movie on the eighties arcade, and everyone else’s was going to pale in comparison. Honestly, we hardly even talked about it. Which is stupid.

Besides filling out the application, writing the check, and mailing your video into Sundance, what else did you do to ensure your best chance for acceptance into the festival?

We took our rough cut to some small distribution companies who showed initial interest but ultimately rejected us. One of them suggested we apply to some big festivals, including Sundance. We sent out the film and were very happy to be accepted into the Hamptons Film Festival. Then, shortly after accepting the Hamptons invite, we got a call from Sundance asking if we would premiere there. The choice was obvious. We had to burn Hamptons, and that wasn’t a good feeling, but as first-time filmmakers, Sundance was where we had to premiere.

How did you react to the news that you got into Sundance?

I was surprised, particularly after hearing nothing from them for so long. I felt like maybe I’d actually accomplished what I set out to do with the film. Someone at Sundance must have connected with it, right?

How did you prepare for your first Sundance screening?

We didn’t. We flew in, set up an arcade on Main Street with like forty games, then walked into a screening for the Sundance volunteers. We were exhausted, which was a good thing for me. I have a tendency to dwell on stressful things and probably would have been chewing my fist all day had it not been for the Defender machine I had to dolly up the icy Park City sidewalk.

What did you do to hype your film at Sundance?

The arcade was supposed to be our big draw. I have no idea if it helped or not, but people loved it. All the games were set to free play so folks could just walk in, get warm, and play a few games. It was kind of like our home base the rest of the festival. We also made buttons.

Did you hire a publicist?

Yes, and they were so good to us. We were very hands-off publicity-wise. Whatever David and Winston suggested, we tried to do. It’s kind of nice having someone handle those types of affairs when you’ve got an arcade to run.

Regarding festival hype, much of that was built in for us with our subject matter. We were moving people through the arcade, but we didn’t feel like it was generating enough buzz for the film. So we adopted our strategy. I went to Wal-Mart Park City (cozy little mom-and-pop) and bought a Hula-hoop, some felt, and a bunch of other supplies and created a Pac-Man costume that my buddy Chris could wear to promote the film. I think it actually got the word out better than the arcade. I wish we’d come up with that idea sooner.

Were you nervous at the first screening, and if so, how did you deal with it?

Again, I stayed busy. The arcade gave me a place to let off some steam and just talk to people. Also, I think the Sundance crowd really wants to like you and your film. Watching your film with an audience like that makes it a lot easier. Not sure how I would have done had the reaction been solidly negative.

What did you learn from that first screening?

The first screening was for the Sundance volunteers. We walked in about twenty minutes after they’d started the film and everyone was laughing. So that was working. Also, with that many viewers, I was able to easily pick out a few spots that were dragging that I’d never seen before. I think I understand test screenings a bit better now.

How did you respond when you found out there was another video-game-related documentary playing at Slamdance?

We knew this going in. Behind the scenes there was a real battle going on to get into Sundance. Somehow we came out on top, but it turned out to be a small victory as they ultimately got picked up before we even screened at Sundance. That was tough for us. Our problem I think was that we didn’t react. It’s pretty obvious now that we should have been more cautious with exclusivity.

Ultimately, did the success of The King of Kong hurt your chances of distribution, since the movies both cover much of the same historical period and real-life characters?

What hurt us more about King of Kong was the possibility of a fictional remake. As explained to us by our reps, the real pot of gold was not the docs but the remakes that could follow—a remake could make a lot more money. Whichever team could get Billy Mitchell’s life rights would get picked up. We battled for months to try to get Billy to sign with us, but ultimately he signed with [The King of Kong] without seeing his depiction in their film. Once that happened they secured a deal no problem, like I said, before we had our first screening. Also, they made a good film. So that helped them, too.

Pac Man walked the streets of Park City to promote Chasing Ghosts.

When you did not get distribution at Sundance, how did that change your strategy going forward?

Our hopes of a bidding war quickly diminished, but the strategy remained the same. Sell.

Are there any things you would have done differently?

There’s of course the persistent “what if” knot in my gut, but my first movie played at Sundance and got distribution. That’s okay. Cinetic negotiated everything, and we premiered in December 2008 on Showtime. It came about after much interest for many, many months.

By far the best experience was my overnight trip to Skywalker Ranch, care of the L.A. Film Festival. There is so much hype built up about the place, and I don’t know if it’s all projected or what, but when you get there it feels special. Like a retreat, only you mix a movie between horse rides and mani/pedis. They were mixing Into the Wild when I was there. Sean Penn ducked out when we all walked in.

JEREMY COON
Producer

FILMS: Napoleon Dynamite, The Sasquatch Gang, Humble Pie (aka American Fork)

FESTIVAL EXPERIENCE: Screened films at Sundance, Slamdance, SXSW, London, U.S. Comedy Arts Aspen, Nantucket, Sidewalk, and more than forty more

AWARDS: Nominated for Independent Spirit Awards, won MTV Movie Award for Best Movie, and too many more to list

DEALS: Sold Napoleon Dynamite to Fox Searchlight for $4.7 million

“People’s reactions to films are largely based on expectations. You want people just aware of enough of the film so that there are butts in the seats, but you don’t want expectations so high that they leave disappointed.”

Jeremy Coon is a native Texan and graduated from BYU with an undergraduate degree in film and an MBA. He’s produced several feature films to date. The first (Napoleon Dynamite) you’ve probably heard of; the second (The Sasquatch Gang) you might have heard of; and the most recent (American Fork [aka Humble Pie]) you may never have heard of. All three are independent films that played the festival circuit extensively. Jeremy is unique as a producer since he also performs double duty as a highly skilled editor. He became a film buff at the age of seven when his dad took him to see Aliens in the theater, and he’s been hooked ever since.

Jeremy Coon with actor Jon Gries

Jeremy talks candidly about the making of Napoleon Dynamite and its sale at Sundance, as well as the fate of his other independent film projects, plus the scoop on Napoleon Dynamite Part 2.

Tell me about your role in the making of Napoleon Dynamite and how the project came about.

I met Jared Hess, the writer/director of Napoleon Dynamite, while we were students at BYU film school, and we became good friends around 2001. Jared ran the production section of the student facility and I ran postproduction. We usually had a ton of downtime. It was a sweet setup. The school inadvertently paid us to work on our own films, and we had access to all the equipment without having to go through any red tape. Anyway, Jared and I would chat about stuff like how awesome The A-Team was and movies in general. We’ve always both been obsessed with all things Mr. T, and I don’t see us losing that with age. I edited Jared’s Peluca (the short that served as a basis for Napoleon), and it was a great experience, and we started talking about working on a feature together. I had access to some funding for a low-budget feature through my contacts and we decided do a feature version of Peluca. We targeted summer of 2003 for production.

Jared and Jersuha (his wife) worked on the script and I moved out to L.A. to get things rolling out there. My original career goal was to be an editor. Producing was something that I started doing in film school because no one was very good at it and I knew I could do a better job. On Napoleon, I felt the worse case was I would have my first sole feature editing credit. Jared and Jerusha’s first draft of Napoleon was about seventy-five pages long, and it was great, but it got punched up with a couple of more revisions. We got the funding we needed, had a great script, and just set out to make it the best way we could and learned a lot along the way.

Is there a secret to getting into Sundance?

There really is no secret way to get into Sundance, at least in my opinion. All the programmers I know are pretty objective and do not play favorites. The films really get in on their own merit, so it’s a level playing field. Trevor Groth, a programmer at Sundance, watched Napoleon the first time from a pile of VHS tapes at like 2 A.M.He liked it so much, he watched it again right after and really fought to get the film into dramatic competition.

Develop a relationship with a programmer or find someone who already has one, and have them talk directly about your film, even if it’s a non-business-related connection, like their hair stylist.

The best way to ensure your film gets accepted is to submit the most complete version of the film you can and submit it as early as you can. If you submit something that’s too rough too soon, the stigma of that first rough cut will likely stick, so be cautious. The earlier you submit it, the less slammed the programmers will be and more of them will have a chance to watch it. Other than that obvious hint, the next best alternative is to either develop a relationship with a programmer or find someone who already has one, and have them talk directly about your film, even if it’s a non-business-related connection, like their hair stylist. Any personal connection, no matter how small, definitely helps. After the conversation, you can submit your film directly to their attention. Adding this personal qualifier will separate you from the masses and ensure that your film will get considered under the best of circumstances—but again, nothing will ensure acceptance.

Any advice to others about selecting the best festivals for their project?

Ask yourself why you’re applying to certain festivals. Are you applying just because everyone else does? If so, that generally is not a very good reason. Also, the best “in” at a festival is to be a local. Local press loves the story of a local person coming back to town and showing their film, and you’ll get special attention simply because of that. I experienced this with the Deep Ellum Film Festival, which later evolved into AFI Dallas. I also developed friendships (both staff and filmmakers) that have lasted long beyond the films playing there, which is always a great thing. Also, the next time you have a film, you’re almost prequalified (assuming the film is good) to play again at a festival because you have a solid connection with the programming staff. Local festivals also give you an excuse to travel back home (assuming you’re looking for an excuse).

What other festivals did you apply to with Napoleon?

Initially we only applied to Sundance and Slamdance. We felt one of those festivals was our best shot at distribution and we’d reevaluate our strategy if we got rejected by both. We also didn’t want additional copies of the film floating around at other festivals that might get leaked out to distributors early, especially since it was a rough cut that was submitted.

Were you concerned about applying to other festivals before you got word from Sundance?

I was very concerned, which is why we only applied to two. Like all filmmakers, we knew Sundance was the Holy Grail of film festivals and every other festival was a distant second. We only applied to Slamdance because Peluca had been well received there the year before, and if we didn’t get into Sundance, we could still have screenings and a presence up in Park City at the same time. Slamdance actually accepted Napoleon first and I had a series of hectic phone calls trying to find out if Sundance had accepted the film or not. Ultimately, I had to make a decision and we ended up turning down Slamdance without knowing for certain if we were in Sundance or not.

How did you prepare for your first Napoleon screening?

To be honest, we were so busy finishing the film that it’s kind of a blur to me. The pre-Sundance time was the busiest I’ve ever been. I was the editor and postproduction supervisor and I was juggling all the producer duties at the same time. The best piece of advice Cinetic gave us was to make sure that we didn’t overhype the film. People’s reaction to films is largely based off of expectations. You want people just aware of enough of the film so that there are butts in the seats, but you don’t want expectations so high that they leave disappointed. If you go into a film not expecting much and it’s decent, you’ll be impressed. Conversely, if you’re expecting a film to be exceptional and it’s decent, you’ll leave disappointed. We wanted as little information out as possible so we could manage expectations and allow the film to really pop unexpectedly at the festival.

What promotional pieces did you create, and how did you pack the festival screenings for Napoleon?

The best promotional piece we created was the school election buttons. We had five thousand “Vote for Pedro” buttons and another thousand “Vote for Summer” buttons made and flooded Park City with them. Everyone was wearing them and it became a badge of being cool. The buttons would start conversations with people who didn’t know about the film and helped identify fans of the film. I can’t remember how much these buttons cost, but it was nominal compared to the exposure it gave the film.

As far as packing the screenings, we didn’t have to do much of anything. All of our screenings sold out almost immediately. Part of that is that we had more of a local presence than other films, but I know plenty of friends who were unable to get tickets. The biggest reason for the demand is probably the terrific synopsis that Trevor Groth wrote for the Sundance program. It was so glowing and nice that it was as if one of our mothers had written it. The majority of people are going to base their decision to see a film or not off of the program, so make sure you’re happy with your description and photo in the festival program.

Did you hire a publicist?

Yeah, we hired Jeff Hill from International House of Publicity (IHOP) to do our PR. Anyone who’d name their PR firm IHOP seemed like a great fit with us. Jeff did a great job getting us good, solid press, and we were very glad to have him onboard.

A good publicist can help make the most of the situation, but how audiences ultimately react to your film is largely outside of a publicist’s control.

Generally, I have mixed feelings about publicists. There are a handful like Jeff who really add value because they have connections and their opinions are well respected. I’m sure this is going to offend some publicity peeps, but I think most are overpriced and often get more credit than they deserve. Some publicists really just manage incoming requests, which really anyone could do. If you have a hot film, journalists will want to do press for it, but if you have a dud, they don’t. A good publicist can help make the most of the situation, but how audiences ultimately react to your film is largely outside of a publicist’s control. For festivals other than Sundance or Toronto, I would not hire a publicist and would save your money for other expenses if money is tight.

Napoleon Dynamite poster art

What was the most important thing for you in determining which distributor was the right fit?

Cinetic Media was our producer’s rep for Napoleon, and they played a large role in helping us determine which distributor was right for us. The clear leader was Fox Searchlight because their marketing department blows any other distributors out of the water. Searchlight really puts a lot of effort into each ad campaign and thinks outside the box to tailor the campaign to the uniqueness of the film. The most important thing to us was that the film would get the best release possible and garner the most attention. Don’t get me wrong: Money is important, but I would recommend to any filmmaker not to be so focused on the financials that they lose focus of what’s really important—having a film career and being able to make another film. You want your film to be a launching pad to more work and clout. We easily could have sold Napoleon to another distributor for likely more money, but if the release was botched we would have lost in the long run, both financially and for our careers.

We easily could have sold Napoleon to another distributor for likely more money, but if the release was botched we would have lost in the long run, both financially and for our careers.

Any advice on getting the distribution deal?

Don’t get too greedy. Just as quickly as buzz can build on a film, it can implode even quicker. This is something I learned on Sasquatch. We did a screening before Slamdance in L.A. and New York and got strong interest from a good distributor that night. Things were looking great and I thought we were going to close a deal in a matter of days. They offered $2 million, but some people on our team wanted the floor of the offer to be $3 million, which meant that the film had to be screened by other departments (namely marketing) to authorize the higher price.

If you have a good offer on the table and you don’t have a fallback option, be careful of negotiating too aggressively. It might backfire on you.

There are way more reasons to not buy a film than to buy one, and the longer a distributor thinks about it, the more likely they are to talk themselves out of buying. It doesn’t take much negativity to turn the tides within a company. Once that marketing department saw Sasquatch, they felt that it didn’t have enough big-name talent and they didn’t want to (or couldn’t) put in the effort to create a unique campaign like Searchlight did with Napoleon. That response all but killed the deal for us. So again, don’t get too caught up in the hype. If you have a good offer on the table and you don’t have a fallback option, be careful of negotiating too aggressively. It might backfire on you.

Are there any things you would have done differently?

On Napoleon, I can honestly say that I wouldn’t do much of anything differently. It really was a near-perfect experience from beginning to end. However, if I had one piece of advice to give, I would have spent some more time analyzing the distribution contract with Fox and probably hired my own outside lawyer to provide a second opinion and look out for just my interests. Cinetic is both a law firm and sales agent, which is great synergy and they’re a great company, but I think it is a mild conflict of interests. Our distribution contract with Searchlight was about eighty pages long, and in the rush of getting things done, I think some things were overlooked. If it’s your first film, chances are you’re going to get screwed because you don’t have a ton of leverage to negotiate with on specific standard terms, but it can’t hurt to try. Hiring a lawyer for a second opinion and taking a bit more time to review may not have made much of a difference, but it would be worth the piece of mind.

What do the numbers look like on a big deal like the one for Napoleon Dynamite?

We sold Napoleon to Fox Searchlight for a $4.75 million advance. We also received box office bonuses of $350K at $20 mil, $25 mil, $35 mil, and $40 mil for a total of $1.4 mil. Both of these payments are advances against future profits, and we get 50 percent of any remaining net profits. “Net profits” can be a very loose term, and I would recommend filmmakers pay particular attention to how that term is defined. Usually it’s what’s left over from revenue minus expenses and distribution fees. However, it’s very easy for studios to implement some creative accounting that can make any hit film look like a loss, so watch out for it. Expenses can be inflated or taken from other films and charged to more successful ones. I would recommend having additional payments linked to concrete events like the box office bonuses. That way there is no gray area—the event that triggers the payment either happens or it doesn’t, and they are paid in a timely manner.

How were you expected to support the release of the film?

Fox Searchlight is very filmmaker-friendly and kept us involved in many aspects of the marketing, including the trailer, poster, etc. Beyond that, it was just agreeing to do a lot of interviews. Jon Heder (who played Napoleon) had the busiest schedule by far and was on countless talk shows for a while. We also went to a lot of film festivals to do Q&As, which was a lot of fun.

Could you recount some of the more memorable moments of your whirlwind Sundance experience?

Two moments stick out to me. The first was our first screening. It was such a crazy marathon to finish the film and get it ready for Sundance, but we had never watched it with an actual audience before. We had no idea if it would play well. Jared and I were most concerned about the dance scene climax and whether it would be climatic enough to really drive the film home. We went through countless revisions and worked on it till the very last minute—we’d actually made it into a small separate film reel so we’d have more time to edit. At that first screening at Sundance the crowd cheers within the film seemed really loud, and then when it cut to the next scene people were still cheering and we realized that it was actually the audience cheering. Jared turned around to me and said, “We did it!” and we power-slammed each other. It was such a relief and joy to have that sense of accomplishment after all the work so many people had put into the film.

The other moment was when the actual sale of Napoleon was closed with Fox Searchlight. We knew we weren’t going to accept any offers until after the third screening. Napoleon had its first screening at 5 P.M., then 11 P.M., and then 11 P.M.the next day, so we had a majority of our screenings within an eighteen-hour period. We knew the screenings were going extremely well but had no idea what it meant. After the third screening, John Sloss (the head of Cinetic) invited Jared and me up to their condo to discuss the offers. We sat around for about an hour or two and nothing was going on. I was wondering why we were just sitting there chilling. I’ll admit I was a little worried for a brief time. I realized later on that John just wanted Jared and me out of sight so that no distributor could ambush us. Selling a film at Sundance is a total game, and John is very good at it. The first offer came in from MTV Films for $3 million. That was when I realized that something really special was going on. The most I had even hoped to sell the film for was maybe $3.25 million and now I knew our floor was $3 million and we could use that as leverage against other distributors.

The next two hours was a flurry of activity. We were basically down to two distributors very quickly: Searchlight and Warner Independent. We had an appointment with Warner, but Searchlight was first and told us that they all had to go to the screening of The Motorcycle Diaries in two hours and were leaving with or without the film. Peter Rice and the entire executive team came to the meeting, and each department talked to us about how they would handle the film. After that we went into separate rooms while John Sloss ran back and forth with the offer as we negotiated and ended up with $4.75 million. As we were closing the deal, Warner was driving up the hill to the condo and we told them what the price was at and asked if they wanted to go higher. They thought we were bluffing and turned around—and we closed the deal with Searchlight. It all happened so quickly that it took a while for it to really sink into us. I totally understand now why people get emotional after winning a championship or a gold medal. After so much time and work, it’s almost an emotional overload to actually get what you’ve strived for, for so long.

Can you explain how you raised the money for your films?

Each film needs to have a different and unique fundraising strategy. It depends on the size of the budget, genre, and economic conditions. Unfortunately for Napoleon, this isn’t a very interesting answer. I had a relative who could afford the initial $320K investment, believed in me, and wanted to give me a shot at my dream. There was no lengthy contract or lawyers, just an e-mail and a handshake. Once we got into Sundance and wanted to do a film print, he invested another $80K so we could complete that for a total investment of just over $400K.

On Sasquatch, we wanted to work with more established forms of financing from production companies because the budget was higher this time: $1.35 million. We felt it would be an easy sale to get someone to put up the money after the success of Napoleon and wanted to capitalize on that. On my third film, American Fork, we went back to a single private wealthy investor. I’ve been fortunate enough that I haven’t had much of a problem raising money for films. Again, I know that’s not interesting or probably useful. Once you get your first one down, raising money usually gets easier with each subsequent film. The best advice I would give is find someone who is excited about the film and then get them excited about your vision for it. I’m also a firm believer that almost any film can get made on any budget if you can get creative enough.

What key piece of advice you would give to someone closing a financing deal for a film?

The investor needs to be prepared to lose 100 percent of their investment.

Don’t blow too much smoke at any investors. Be brutally honest. I’ve always told every investor I’ve talked to that any film is a bad investment, but as independent films go, I think what we’re doing is better than many alternatives for various reasons. I’d mention things like the budget is as low as possible to increase profitability and that each dollar will be well spent. I really believe that creativity thrives best under constraints. The investor also needs to be prepared to lose 100 percent of their investment. This might mean that you burn through many potential investors, but it’s better in the long run. If they can’t stomach the financial hit, it’s better to sift them out now, because it will only cause problems and feelings of guilt later on if things don’t work out. Many investors respond well to this dose of honesty, which helps facilitate a sense of trust.

What advice would you give to someone investing in a film?

No investment in any film is likely a wise investment strictly from a financial point of view, and if someone tells you it is, they are either lying or a fool. Producers can draw projections from similar films and how they performed, but ultimately no one knows, and I would put little weight in it. An extreme example is one business plan I saw where they were doing a fantasy film in the vein of Lord of the Rings and looking for $3 million for the budget. They projected that Lord of the Rings grossed north of $300 million so if they got just 1 percent of that, the film would break even. Ridiculous. Every time you see a revenue or gross projection, keep in mind that they don’t mean much, regardless of who made it.

Producer Jeremy Coon (at left) with the cast and crew on the set of Napoleon Dynamite

That said, most people invest in a film mostly for reasons other than financial, so focus on those. Things like helping a family member by giving them a shot (like I experienced), really believing in the script, or maybe a rich person would just like to experience visiting a set and vicariously being a producer. Those are elements you have control over and can guarantee. There is so much out of your control that helps make a film successful that if you invest solely based on an expected financial return, you’re bound to be disappointed.

What do you consider the best way to seek funding?

You can always start with the three F’s: family, friends, and fools. I kid a little bit, but if you have no track record and are looking to make your first film, chances are you’ll have to at least initially hit up one or more of these three. These funding options usually allow the filmmakers the most control over how the film is made. This is most important for first-time filmmakers, because it frees them up to achieve their vision.

I’ve got a great pitch for Napoleon Dynamite Part 2. Want to hear it? Okay, I’m kidding, but how do you respond to that kind of success where the movie becomes such a big part of the cultural Zeitgeist?

Hmm, let me list the number of derivatives of Napoleon I’ve had pitched to me. First there’s the numerous cultural reinterpretations, such as the African American, Indian, and Asian versions. Then there was the plane ride where I had to hear ideas of how to combine the Girls Gone Wild brand with Napoleon. I had to just sit there, smile, and nod since there was nowhere to escape. One guy also sent me a package telling me that he felt his life’s work was to create the Broadway musical version of Napoleon and included two original songs. My personal favorite sequel idea is that Kip and Napoleon actually get the time machine to work and they travel to different time periods a la Back to the Future.

There is no way to plan for the kind of success and attention that Napoleon received. It just happens and you deal with it. I think I realized that Napoleon had entered the cultural zeitgeist either when Napoleon Dynamite was used as a descriptive adjective in a New York Times article or when we got our own Trivial Pursuit question. One agent early on told us that Tom Cruise hosted a screening of Napoleon at his house for Will Smith, Jim Carrey, and some other celebrities, and they all loved it. Denzel Washington and Clint Eastwood are also both huge fans. That stuff seems so strange, but assuming it’s all true, that’s so cool. It still feels strange that so many people know about and love this little film we shot with a bunch of buddies in Idaho. Even all these years later, I still regularly meet huge fans that are excited to know anyone who worked on the film. I always try to be really thankful to fans, because they’re the ones that made our dreams come true by helping us have film careers.

You’ve made several projects since Napoleon, but it’s hard to top that kind of unprecedented success. How do you manage the expectations of a new director or team of filmmakers?

There are also so many issues that are out of your control that help lead to a film’s success, the biggest probably being timing. Napoleon was probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me, and I know it will be hard to top that experience, especially since it was our first film. I’ve always wondered if Napoleon would have been as well received and successful had it been made a year earlier or later. We were at Sundance with a great group of films, such as Garden State and Super Size Me. Films that had high commercial appeal, yet still retained indie roots, which definitely helped. So I tell new directors just to do their best and not worry about things outside of their control. All we can do is make the best film we can under the circumstances and present it as best we can.

What led to your next project, The Sasquatch Gang?

Tim Skousen, a good friend and first AD on Napoleon, wrote a script and sent it to me to read. It was a little rough and a long first draft, but I knew a good film was in there and it just took a few more revisions to get it to a really solid and unique script. We pitched it as the feel of Goonies but told in the nonlinear narrative style of Pulp Fiction. Given the clout we gained from doing Napoleon, we had much easier access to a number of financing sources.

We thought briefly about going the studio route, but at the time, I didn’t want to deal with the slow process, the politics, or risk losing creative control, especially with a first-time director. I think a director’s first film needs to be on a smaller budget so there is less pressure and no studio executive constantly looking over their shoulder. Directing your first film is hard, and if you’re not allowed to experiment, make mistakes, and learn from them, the film will probably suffer.

Directing your first film is hard, and if you’re not allowed to experiment, make mistakes, and learn from them, the film will probably suffer.

Again, I brought in Cinetic Media to act as our agent, but this time early on to find funding in addition to handling the distribution rights. Ultimately, we ended up partnering with Kevin Spacey’s Trigger Street Productions. They agreed to put up the money for the film and give us the creative freedom we were looking for.

Sasquatch played Slamdance but did not get into Sundance—how did that affect your festival strategy?

Initially we were disappointed about not getting into Sundance, as any filmmakers would be, but I think it was a blessing in disguise. Sundance may not always be the best platform to premiere all films. For Sasquatch, the comparisons to Napoleon would be inevitable given the similar genre and number of the same filmmakers involved. Also, the audience’s expectations would be unrealistically high, and it would be difficult to live up to the hype no matter how good the film was. We also felt that Sasquatch skewed much younger than Napoleon. The combination of screening a heavily hyped film to an audience significantly older than the intended audience would likely have resulted in bad screenings and would be very difficult to recover from.

Definitely think about what kind of audience you expect to dig your film, and then think about what audiences go to different festivals. A good starting point is looking at past films that have been accepted to various festivals and been well received there. This can also help you target and narrow your search for film festivals to apply to in general.

Slamdance is a very different festival and experience than Sundance. It’s much smaller and the venue isn’t great, but the festival puts out a very cool energy and vibe. Basically, it’s more fartsy and less artsy compared to typical Sundance films. As far as our strategy, we wanted to have a presence in Park City so distributors could see the movie but wanted to keep a low profile so if the screenings didn’t go well, we wouldn’t be DOA. If Sasquatch failed to connect with audiences at Slamdance, it could do so quietly, and if it hit, we could get some traction for a deal.

The hard part was getting busy distributors to head up to the film’s screening at the Treasure Mountain Inn. Knowing that, we did one screening in L.A. and one in New York about a week before the festival. Tons of distributors showed up to each screening and we packed the theater with kids who were the exact demographic for the film. We even invited distributors to bring their families and children. This way the distributors were seeing it with a real audience and not a stuffy industry-type crowd. We were able to generate a lot of interest and awareness for the film so that by the time the festival started we were on a lot of people’s radar and not lost in the shuffle of the hundred-plus films playing.

What other festivals did Sasquatch play?

We probably played twenty festivals or so. Once you get into a Sundance or Slamdance, each invitation to another film festival leads into another. My favorites were the HBO U.S. Comedy Arts Festival in Aspen, the Waterfront Film Festival, the Sidewalk Film Festival, and the Florida Film Festival. The film also played internationally at the Stockholm and New Zealand Film Festivals. Waterfront, Sidewalk, and Florida are really good film festivals that might be under the radar. They all take extremely good care of the invited filmmakers and usually cover most, if not all, your travel expenses and, more important, show you an awesome time.

How did your experience with Sasquatch compare to Napoleon?

Sasquatch was a total rollercoaster ride and not in the best way. The film was incredibly well received, but the buyers were not coming like they were with Sundance. I attribute some of that just to timing. Sundance seems to go through cycles where distributors go crazy and buy up tons of films, which eventually leads to overpaying for films that underperform. This scares distributors who would rather not buy than risk the embarrassment of paying too much for a dud. It seems to happen about every five to seven years, and I think we are experiencing a bottom now with the current economic climate. The good news is that it’s cyclical, so the situation will always come around for the better.

We ended up selling the U.S. film rights to Sony BMG Films for less than $1 million and divided up the international rights to make the most of each territory. It was much more work and for less money than Napoleon. Sony BMG sat on the film for a while and the label ended up being shut down. So the film sat on the shelf for over a year until it was sold to Screen Media and finally released in November 2007. I’m still very proud of the film and just happy that it got released and is easily available on DVD. There are plenty of indie films that don’t even get to experience that moderate level of success. Who knows, maybe Sasquatch could even legitimately become a cult film as it’s discovered by more people on DVD.

How did you approach the eventual deal knowing Sasquatch was not going to be as big a mainstream hit as Napoleon?

Unless the distributor is going to really put some serious marketing money behind the film or have an ingenious plan, it’s probably best to forgo a theatrical release.

We just wanted the film out soon and really wanted it to have a shot theatrically. On the deal, we gave the distributor very good financial terms on theatrical revenue to provide an incentive for them to release the film theatrically, and we got a better share of the DVD revenue—30 percent instead of the typical 20 percent. Feeling that it was going to be more a cult film and that Napoleon DVD sales were huge compared with its theatrical gross, getting the large share of home video was important to us. If I had to do it over again, I’m not sure I’d push for a theatrical release as strongly as before. For some reason, films seem cheaper if they aren’t released in theaters, but I think that stigma has changed over the last few years. Unless the distributor is going to really put some serious marketing money behind the film or have an ingenious plan, it’s probably best to forgo a theatrical release. Screen Media probably spent somewhere in the ballpark of $500,000 in P&A [prints and advertising] on Sasquatch, which is a sizable investment, but that money doesn’t get you much on a national scale or drive people to see the film. And now, the film is $500,000 more in the hole because that money needs to be recouped before the film is profitable.

As a producer on the road to a long career, what lessons did you feel you learned from the projects that did not perform as well as Napoleon?

Napoleon, our first experience, was a best-case scenario. We had zero expectations and had the ultimate reception. I know that I will never experience something as cool and new as that again, but most people don’t get that experience even one time. You need to feel proud of each film regardless of the reception, because even unsuccessful films take at least as much time and effort as a good film. Your desire to make a film should come from yourself and not from the reactions of others per se. That’s not to say you should work in a vacuum and not listen to others, but it’s shaky ground to base your efforts solely on what you think other people think or want. I don’t have kids as of now, but I’ve always seen each film as a child. You love each of them, but some are definitely more difficult than others, and those are the ones that typically don’t perform as well. The really successful ones sometimes seem to magically come together.

You’ve experienced both success and failure with projects. How do you stay positive and persevere?

Everyone has failures or disappoints at some point in their career. It’s inevitable. If you’re not experiencing some level of failure, you’re probably not taking enough chances or stretching yourself far enough. Independent film is all about taking risks and telling stories that studios are not in a position to tell. I feel confident that if we had pitched the script for Napoleon around to the studios, there would have been no takers because no executives would have gotten it. If you know you’re taking risks, you know failure is coming eventually, so when it does, it’s not a total shock. You can then recover quickly and move on to the next project, having learned from your mistakes, and are better prepared should a similar situation arrive in the future. That’s how you grow as a filmmaker.

Through it all, you’ve remained successful in a tough business. What’s your secret?

My secret is surrounding myself with good people, creating a solid team, and being loyal to them. Making films is an extremely collaborative experience, and there’s no way someone can be successful on their own. I was fortunate enough to be in film school at the same time as a lot of cool and talented people who are also extremely close friends. Doing what you love and being able to work with many of your best friends is a great and rewarding experience in and of itself, and I’m very thankful for that. Once you find someone good who you like, do everything you can to hang on and work with that person. You can meet them in school, at film festivals, through mutual friends, or really anywhere, so be nice and pay attention, because you never know when it’ll happen. Eventually with enough time and effort you can assemble an awesome team that will stick together through both the good times and the bad. The success of each film definitely helps, but the team will stick together because of the camaraderie.

GRACE LEE
Director

FILMS: American Zombie

FESTIVAL EXPERIENCE: Screened at Slamdance, SXSW, San Francisco International Asian American Film Festival, Visual Communications in Los Angeles, Hawaii, Sitges Fantastic Film Festival, Puchon Fantastic Film Festival, Singapore International Film Festival, Brussels Fantastic Film Festival

DEALS: Sold to Cinema Libre

Grace Lee

“Be open to requests from festivals you’ve never heard of. When I say be strategic, I mean study their programs and get a sense of if your film would fit in there.”

Grace Lee was born and raised in Columbia, Missouri, which is also home to the True/False documentary film festival. Grace tells us about her first feature, American Zombie, and ways to market a small indie.

How did you get your start in film?

I grew up in the eighties, and my hometown felt like a cultural wasteland. I am also Korean American, so growing up in Middle America definitely instilled in me an appreciation and curiosity about other people and places—particularly outsiders to mainstream society. I was always interested in storytelling, but I didn’t get into filmmaking until I was living in Korea after college and decided to make a documentary about prostitution around U.S. military bases. After that, I worked in documentary and indie feature production for a few years before going back to graduate film school at UCLA. I made a short film called Barrier Device, which stars Sandra Oh and Suzy Nakamura and won a Student Academy Award, among other accolades. I’m probably most well known for The Grace Lee Project, which is a personal documentary about an identity crisis and women named Grace Lee—a very common Asian name. American Zombie is my first feature, and it is sort of like The Grace Lee Project but with zombies.

What inspired you to make American Zombie?

American Zombie is a “fictional documentary” about two filmmakers who set out to document a community of high-functioning zombies living in Los Angeles. The idea was inspired by a conversation between co-writer Rebecca Sonnenshine and me. We were looking for something we could work on together. Rebecca was having some really gnarly dreams and suffering from insomnia. She described an incident in one dream involving a zombie, and it made me wonder aloud whether she was part zombie and if this repressed part of her identity was coming out subconsciously. I thought this would make a fascinating and hilarious character—someone who seems so nice and normal on the outside but is hiding an unresolved darkness underneath. As a filmmaker, I’m naturally drawn to characters with contradictory tendencies. Plus it seemed like a good vehicle to make fun of documentary filmmaking, identity politics, and life in Los Angeles—all things I’m exposed to on a daily basis.

Having come from docs, how was the transition to something scripted within the mockumentary genre?

I have worked on fiction films before—with scripts and actors—so that aspect of it was not a problem. My main challenge came from being so intimately familiar with the documentary form and understanding what a small documentary crew would be able to shoot. On actual documentary shoots, you just show up to an interview or situation and have to make do with what’s there. To have to recreate that sort of authenticity can be quite time-consuming—especially when you have to come up with a character’s environment and her weird idiosyncrasies from scratch. Another challenge was that even though we had a script, I would often allow for improvisation as part of the shooting process. The actors would often come up with some incredibly funny bits, but back in the editing room I would have to cut them out because it almost seemed too scripted, as in too jokey.

How did your previous festival experiences shape your strategies for American Zombie?

I had been on the festival circuit before with an award-winning short fiction film (Barrier Device) as well as a feature documentary (The Grace Lee Project). In both those cases, I had basically financed, produced, directed, wrote, made the postcards, and made all the decisions when it came to festivals and afterward with distribution. With American Zombie, all of the big decisions were made by someone else—with my input, of course—but I didn’t have the final say. We had a production company from Korea who financed the movie as well as a producer’s rep and publicist for our premiere. The production company and producer’s rep decided which festivals would be the best to attend with the main goal of getting distribution.

How did you get into Slamdance?

I did nothing but send the film in by the deadline. I didn’t know anybody there and was pleasantly surprised to get the acceptance call. With other festivals-where I knew a programmer from previously having a film there—I would send an e-mail or cover letter to them personally letting them know I had a new film. I think the best any filmmaker can do is just make sure their film gets seen amongst the piles and piles of submissions. If I didn’t know someone at the festival, I might ask someone who did if they could put in a good word, but only if they were a fan of the film. You definitely don’t want someone to recommend your film if they are not enthusiastic about it.

The best thing to do is to have your film be completely finished. People are always trying to submit rough cuts or versions with temp music or unmixed sound, which puts you automatically at a disadvantage from films that are already finished and on the circuit and have even won awards. You may be able to see your masterpiece without the final titles and a properly mixed sound track, but that’s because you essentially saw your finished film when you were in the process of writing it.

You definitely don’t want someone to recommend your film if they are not enthusiastic about it.

Be strategic when looking at the more well-known festivals and where to premiere. But once that is out of the way, also be open to requests from festivals you’ve never heard of. When I say be strategic, I mean study their programs and get a sense if your film would fit in there. I know lots of people who just send their film to dozens of festivals at once and wait for any or all to respond. I think that’s a waste of time and money. I have sometimes contacted a festival I was interested in or even just curious about to describe my film. If it had been in a previous festival, I might mention that, or if it had won an award. In some cases, not all, the festival would invite me to submit the film and waive the fee. I could also tell by talking with a live human being whether it would be a good match. It can’t hurt to ask whether they might do that, but if they say no, then respect their policy.

What major festivals were you rejected from?

Sundance. Los Angeles Film Festival. Tribeca. But I think having played SXSW eliminated the chances for the latter two. I still don’t quite get why all these festivals are such sticklers for premiere status. If I hear of an interesting film that plays in New York, I may never get a chance to see it if it doesn’t play in a festival in Los Angeles—especially as theatrical distribution becomes more difficult for independent cinema.

I would have applied to more festivals or sent off the many requests for screeners, but as I mentioned before, the decision wasn’t mine to make. The company that financed the film ultimately made the decisions of where the film could play. Kind of a bummer since as a filmmaker I am all about people seeing my work, but we were dealing with another strategy here.

Were you concerned about applying to other festivals before you got word from Sundance?

American Zombie button

I had been rejected by Sundance in the past so I wasn’t holding my breath. I know there is a tendency, especially for newer filmmakers, to think their life is over if they don’t get into Sundance. It is true that it’s an incredibly important festival. At the same time, I think I got over my Sundance obsession when I started traveling to festivals in Europe and Asia and even other regional U.S. festivals. It’s very encouraging to participate in a festival where you see that the local film culture is actually subsidized by the government and supported by regular people who just love movies and don’t have to be there because it’s part of their job. I personally hate having to hawk my film at festivals—even though I will do it. Maybe I am just shy when it comes to stuff like that.

How did you generate interest in American Zombie?

We hired a publicist and at the same time made sure we had a team of people from the film (both crew and cast) to do the legwork of helping raise awareness of the film once we were in Park City. The publicist was great in helping shape the general thrust of the media campaign and getting press coverage–that is their job. But long before we left for the festival we had begun creating our own unique swag. We had a couple of parties before we left for Slamdance where everyone got together and helped make Amerian Zombie buttons (with my button maker—yes, I own one) and put together American Zombie zines. It was a great way to build excitement for the finished film amongst our team as well as get excited about going to Park City. Once we were there, people took turns volunteering to put up posters, and everyone handed out postcards whenever they went out.

What would you have done differently in preparing for your film’s debut?

Next time I would like to schedule it so that the film is completely finished a couple of months before the festival premiere. You can’t always control this, but if I could eliminate some of the stress of actually finishing the movie I would be much happier at the debut instead of just exhausted and relieved. We had only completed the final sound mix a couple of weeks before Slamdance, so that made things really rushed. I was simultaneously trying to focus on all the technical crap involved in getting a good screening, while having to shift gears and write a press kit (yes, you do it yourself if you want to control the content) and figure out logistics of actually getting to the festival … and all of this right around the holidays. I am a pretty good multitasker, but it definitely takes its toll.

Make sure you have people on your team who do enjoy calling attention to themselves to help promote the movie. Generally actors are pretty good at this and are used to having to sell themselves while making it all look effortless and genuine.

I’m a pretty low-key person and hardly an extrovert. I’m the kind of person who would rather talk to someone one-on-one while standing in line than take to the streets drawing attention to myself. So my advice is to make sure you have people on your team who do enjoy calling attention to themselves to help promote the movie. Generally actors are pretty good at this and are used to having to sell themselves while making it all look effortless and genuine. Take advantage of their energy and try to learn from it.

One thing I saw one of the actors do was pretty clever. This was in Park City, which is constantly teeming with people clamoring for access to the latest buzz-worthy movie. He would be in a crowd of people and start talking into his cell phone about how he had just seen American Zombie and how great it was. He did it loud enough so that people could overhear him and remember the title and even made sure he did it around people who looked like they might be executives or distributors. Who knows if it worked, but he seemed to enjoy doing it!

What unique marketing tools did you use to promote American Zombie?

In the film there is a character named Joel who works at an activist organization called the Zombie Advocacy Group (ZAG). We had already created ZAG merchandise, including T-shirts, “Deadstrong” wristbands, and buttons for the movie, so we just ordered more to help promote the screenings. There are quite a few tie-ins to the movie—which make the swag a lot more interesting because it is actually part of the story. For example, there is a character who creates a zine called American Zombie. The actor, Austin Basis, is a really great artist and did all the drawings himself in the movie. He created a special “Slamdance” version of the American Zombie zine where he writes poetry and draws pictures of zombies snowboarding. Because we were financed by a Korean company, we also had these great cell phone cleaners—which are really popular in Asia—with the American Zombie poster art on it. Those were really popular because they were unique, and who wants a dirty cell phone?

How did you secure funding for American Zombie?

The Korean company that financed us, IhQ, had never made a film in the United States or in English before. I had gotten to know folks at IhQ because I was trying to make another film in Korea and had met quite a few people at various Korean companies in the process. When I was meeting with one of the producers there, I just told her that I was working on this small, low-budget zombie thing, and she was intrigued. When her boss and other colleague came to the American Film Market that fall, I pitched it to them and they immediately said they wanted to work with us. It was totally unexpected, but they just responded to the idea. I feel very lucky to have made this film with them because it is a very American, very indie, genre-bending movie that has absolutely nothing to do with anything Korean. I think the lesson here is to cultivate your relationships with people in a genuine way and to always be ready to pitch your idea-you really never know what people will like or be looking for.

I think in general you figure out what is the bare minimum you need to realistically make the movie, taking into account the favors you will be calling in and making sure you are not insulting people for their time and talent. With a low-budget movie, it’s very important for me to be up front with people that it is low budget and the offers we make are the best they can be. When you are absolutely clear about this, people will lend their talents if they are interested in being part of the project. They certainly aren’t doing it to for the money!

Always be ready to pitch your idea-you really never know what people will like or be looking for.

What did you learn from the first screening of Zombie?

Grace Lee and the American Zombie crew at Slamdance

The first screening was actually a nightmare because the projector broke at about ten minutes into the film and we had to wait at least another fifteen minutes for someone to fix it. I thought I was going to have a heart attack, but I have to say this for the Slamdance audience: They stuck through it, and you could tell that people were excited to be there, excited by what they had seen, and, once things were up and running, they were really into the movie. What sucked, though, was there were some distributors in the audience who couldn’t wait around and decided to leave for the next screening. That was pretty demoralizing. It was an exercise in patience and trying to remain calm in the eye of the storm, even though I felt like strangling someone. There was nothing I could have done in that moment except wait. We had a tech screening where things seemed to be fine. Shit happens sometimes, and you just have to go with the flow while it’s happening. And then you have to do everything in your power not to let it happen again.

What did you do to get distributors into your screenings?

We had a producer’s rep who had alerted many people on his own. At the same time, we invited any connection we had to the screening and invited anyone who had worked on the film who was personally invested in its success to do the same. You never know what contacts your costume designer or someone who only has a few lines in the film may have—but if they also feel like it is their movie they will make the call.

Did you have a list of must-haves to include in any deal?

In general, I want to make sure that there are very specific terms included about the duration of the contract, specifics about how much marketing will be done (including a budget), and the specifics around digital download or whatever new technology will be around in the years my film is out there.

How did you finally get a distribution deal with Cinema Libre?

It was a pretty straightforward process. Someone at Cinema Libre had seen a screener that had been sent to them by the producer’s rep. Everyone there liked it, and we all had a meeting where they expressed their enthusiasm for the movie and explained how they would distribute it. The deal was negotiated between IhQ and Cinema Libre with the help of Glen Reynolds, our producer’s rep from Circus Road Films. The deal with Cinema Libre is with North America only. Since the Korean company didn’t have experience distributing an English-language American movie, it was important to have someone in place who had done it.

Unless you are a lawyer or have loads of experience doing this by yourself, get a lawyer or producer’s rep onboard. I have no idea what most of the terms people are talking about mean or even refer to, nor do I have the expertise in negotiating something like this.

Well, IhQ is also the international sales agent. I know that there will be a small release in Korea, and I believe they are still working on others. I knew going in that I was signing away my rights to control many things I had been used to controlling because I wanted to get the movie made. Going forward, I’m more interested in the alternative distribution methods filmmakers are using to get their movies out there—whether it is self-distribution or teaming up with others to form a sort of traveling tour. But I would probably only work on a strategy like this if I knew that it would be part of the process and if it was appropriate for the film’s content. It takes so much out of you to make a film—and to have to switch gears and become a distributor is another two-year commitment (at least) that one needs to be aware of.

Any advice on handling press?

It’s good to convey ideas about your movie in succinct sentences, if you haven’t already done it. There are so many small outlets, websites, and radio shows that you have never heard of but that have loyal readers and listeners. I think if you make a film that has an identifiable audience—be they documentary film followers, zombie aficionados, or horror fans—you have a responsibility to make yourself available to that outlet. On the other hand, it’s more interesting and rewarding to do an interview with someone who has actually done her homework and watched the film or done some research on you. If they haven’t, then you basically have to think of what you want to talk about and incorporate those answers into their usually generic questions.

If you make a film that has an identifiable audience—be they documentary film followers, zombie aficionados, or horror fans—you have a responsibility to make yourself available to that outlet.

How did you support the release of the film after the festival tour?

When we opened in Los Angeles, where the film takes place and where most of the cast and crew lives, we did as much grassroots promotion as we could in addition to the press outreach from the distributor. We also decided to recreate a zombie art show that appears at one point in the film at a local ice cream shop/gallery. Austin (who plays the zine maker) created another zine, and we featured some artwork that had been used in the movie and commissioned some new stuff. We also had an art show opening the day before the movie opened, and the ice cream shop owner created special American Zombie flavors based on the main characters.

What was your best festival experience?

SXSW was the best for me. The pressure was off from the first screening, and Austin is a great town. The weather is warm, and you don’t have to trudge through snow and stay in an expensive ski resort. Plus, the audiences are amazing. There were two sold-out shows, and I kept running into people later who would tell me that they had been there. It’s just a more laid-back atmosphere than the industry frenzy of Park City.