IFP Chicago, Part I

I spent Saturday at the IFP Filmmakers Summit in Chicago. I have to say that being there only reinforced  something I believe, which is there's no right or wrong way to go about making a film. There's only the way...

I spent Saturday at the IFP Filmmakers Summit in Chicago. I have to say that being there only reinforced  something I believe, which is there's no right or wrong way to go about making a film. There's only the way that the film itself calls for. If you can't afford to make your project the way it asks to be made, choose another project you can afford. Making one type of film may rely on private investors or a Major Studio, but making a great film relies solely on you, the filmmaker. So there's no excuse for saying that somebody else keeps you from making a great film. They can only keep you from making a particular film you think could be great if circumstances out of your control were different.

Two panel discussions at IFP were case studies on two films-essentially this involved crew members of a recent film talking about their process. The first case study was for Kissing on the Mouth, an exceptional film I've written about before, shot by four filmmakers who doubled as both crew and actors. Their process of making the film allowed for barriers of intimacy to be genuinely broken down, something rarely seen in film.

The second case study was for Drunkboat, a new film starring John Malkovich and John Goodman, shot last summer in Chicago. It was shot with a union cast and crew and a budget of $2.5 million. The Drunkboat panel was five members of the Chicago crew (the Assistant Director, Location Manager, Executive Producer, and two of the Producers). The first half of the discussion was basically about how great it was to work with John Malkovich, the second half was about how bad it was to work with the first-time director, John's best friend Bob (or Baab, if you're in Chicago).

Together, the case studies revealed the range of creative processes available to filmmakers. For instance, a few of the audience members had trouble with Joe Swanberg, director of KOTM, because he didn't write a script. In my mind, he did write a script. His DV camera, a small and committed crew, and a budget that came from his own pocket meant he could write his film with the camera and actors instead of using pen and paper. The old adage is There's the script you write, the script you shoot, and the script you edit, and they're all different. What Joe did was combine the traditional three-step process of filmmaking into a one-step process: He wrote, shot, and edited his script all at the same time. Actually, John Cassavetes used the same process in 1963 to make Faces, but it took him three years and cost $225,000. Advances in technology have afforded Joe to make his film in less than a year and it cost him $2,000. Yay for technology.

On the other end of the spectrum is Drunkboat. It was shot with a tiny budget according to Hollywood standards (Malkovich's current project, Beowulf, allegedly has a budget of $250 million... yes, a quarter of a billion dollars), but Drunkboat was shot in a traditional manner with professional crew and talent and a script. Bob Meyer, a first-time director who is an accomplished fine artist, had difficulty conforming to the rigidity of shooting a film of this size. He drove his crew crazy. He wanted freedom to explore, but the reality was they needed every dollar to pull off what was written on the page and still make payroll for the cast and crew. In retrospect, I would bet Meyer probably would choose something closer to the Swanberg route for his first film rather than one with a large budget, union crews and huge set pieces, like a boat sinking in a storm.

I guess what it comes down to is there's always a battle going on between art and commerce. The more a filmmaker gives up commerce, the more freedom they gain in the artistic process. The more a filmmaker pushes for a project that requires a hefty chunk of change, the more they hedge in their creative process. More money does not mean less art, it just means less room to make sudden changes and explore. Fortunately, we now live in a time when, no matter what the financing may be, a great film can be made. I believe smart filmmakers don't just have a good idea, but they find the process to make that idea fit what they are willing to spend in time, money, and freedom.

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Comments

Sorry I missed you Paul, I was down there on Friday. I was counted as some sort of sponsor, but then my employee crapped out, and I was only there for about 4 hours. Kinda bummed, cause I'm out a lot of cash, and got almost nothing out of it. I did run into the Waterfront people tho, that was cool.

Posted by Nat Dykeman on November 9, 2005 12:40 AM

The points you make on the material dictating the methods is interesting and monumentally overlooked int he Hollywood Culture. The reason is simply one of ego, I suspect. Having a studio and lots of money and huge stars, and so on is how a filmmaker's success is often defined in H-Town. The quality of their films, tragically, is not.

We've all seen the work of directors (John Carpenter, Kevin Smith, and, to a lesser extent, George Romero spring to mind) who make better films the less money they have. It's almost as if the restrictions are what cause their creativity to flourish.

But the tales from Drunkboat are really unfortunate. The sad fact is that on a big movie, there are dozens of people at any given time who are directly effected by a director's decision to play. That has a cost associated with it. I love the flexibility of writing a script. If I want to do a remake of "Love Story," but include Godzilla in the "Love means never having to say you're sorry" scene, I can do it.

But getting things on film? That requires a certain amount of organization. Less so than many other art forms. A painter can't just change red paint to green once it's on the canvas, and a conductor can't just change the music in the middle of a concert.

The only one who CAN make that change is Dick Van Dyke's character in Mary Poppins. A one-man band answers to nobody.

So how does a director feed his ego? Make a smaller movie that truly reflects his vision, where he can control everything? Or accepting more money, a bigger audience, and the influence of countless others, watering down his vision?

It's a tough call, but I'm a fan of the auteur, even when they stink (George Lucas, I'm looking at you).

Posted by Bob Schultz on November 9, 2005 05:28 PM

Right at the beginning of this blog you said something very important that also ties into an earlier blog you wrote on short films. Postponing a project until you have the means to do it right verses attempting to do it and falling short of your desired outcome. Often, when I was in school, I'd hear people talk about turning feature film concepts with indepth plots into shorts due to a lack of resources. This, I believe, is selling your ideas and both of the "genres" short. Generally they were unhappy with the end result and the feature film "genre" lost a possible great art piece and the short film "genre" gained a less desireable one. Film is work and working up to something does not mean abandonment or forgetting a concept. Christopher Nolan's debut film, FOLLOWING (1998), he shot on the weekends and it took him like a year just to shoot the picture. Dedication and working within your means is just as important as keeping your eye on the dream that is the end goal.

Posted by Daniel Slane on November 9, 2005 07:03 PM

I think we're on to something here, Daniel. Imagine FOLLOWING shot in color on 35mm film with a soundtrack by Danny Elfman starring Colin Farrell. Totally different film. Totally worse, really. But yet the mentality is given a big budget and big star, the movie gets better. But Nolan (and Swanberg with KOTM) made films that fit within tight spaces, both literally and figuratively, and made sure the film was served for the better by those restrictions.

Posted by Paul on November 10, 2005 09:35 AM

I unfortunately couldn't make the IFP Summit, but couldn't agree more with your entry. Most people I know who were able to get to Chicago felt the same way. The IFP has always been a great outlet for folks who just love making movies. Even though it is packed full of Hollywood elite wanting to think they are independent, the drive of what they do hasn't changed. Kind of a mandate to make our films and turn our backs on the folks telling us we can't.

I am working on a script now and have hit stumbling blocks with moving forward. Maybe I should take a lesson from Joe and just go for it. Its not like I'd be giving up too much commerce at this point.

Posted by moviechic663 on November 10, 2005 01:01 PM

You're missing another indication of Christopher Nolan's dedication. FOLLOWING was rejected from Slamdance one year, and then entered AGAIN the next year, and was accepted.

I realize it's only $60 or whatever to submit, but that still shows a lot of dedication.

Posted by Nat Dykeman on November 10, 2005 04:41 PM

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