Zoom-in Online

I'm constantly impressed by the DIY spirit in filmmaking, just going out and doing it, instead of waiting for someone else to pay for it. Generally speaking, the big sale to a distributor is the end goal that the filmmaker has in mind. Not so for the filmmakers in this indieWIRE piece, which profiles the innovative DIY distribution tactics taken by two filmmakers, maximizing social networking and the viral power of the internet, plus some good old-fashioned negotiating skills.

Getting your film before audiences who want to see it is definitely a good thing. Best case scenario is that you prove that there's an audience for the film, then leverage that niche into a distribution deal with a company that has the ability to take it into larger markets. You're hoping to become March of the Penguins. Except the name of the game these days is "screw the niche, I need a franchise." Nobody at the studio level is taking the time to nurture the niche and let it grow into a real audience. This used to be called "legs," but now smaller films are cut off at the knees and never allowed the chance to prove that they can walk. As Reid Rosefelt put it, "except for the biggest Hollywood movies and sleeper independent films, theatrical is a loss leader." Loss leader for studios, maybe, but for the DIY distributor, maybe self-distributing can actually mean that the filmmaker makes his/her money back (if the film is modestly budgeted in the first place) and even turn a profit. Isn't that the dream? To be able to make a movie, have people see it, and make some money so you can keep doing it?

Say you're a writer/director. You get a production entity to fund your movie to the tune of $1-$2 million. They put $40,000 in there for your salary as director, and maybe buy your script for $20,000. But, because you need to pay your stars, and you've got ambitious ideas for set design and extras staging you end up deferring your director's fee and possibly even your script purchase fee (since you're probably not guild) because you need more money to get what you want. You spend a month prepping, a month or six weeks shooting, two months or so in post racing to the Sundance deadline. You agonize and screen and finally you get in to Sundance and now you're on the festival circuit, promoting the hell out of your movie, enjoying the attention. But by now you haven't worked in a year, and when the production entity sells your movie, they pay you your deferred fees but that money just goes to pay off the credit cards you've been living off of and used to fly your DP, your editor, and your girlfriend to Park City because you're that kind of guy. You're generous, so you're broke. You're a director, but you're also unemployed for all intents and purposes.

The mini-major that bought your film is psyched about it, and they're planning to release it later in the year. They're going to do a solid marketing campaign, which hopefully means butts in seats but also means money that the film has to make back before you or anybody else gets any profit participation. You get profiled in Filmmaker magazine but you start wondering if you should email your friend with the studio job and see if you can get some work writing coverage. Anonymously, because you're hot shit and that's supposed to be a full-time job.

The entire course of your life rests in someone else's hands, that of the distributor who owns your movie. They make it a hit, you stop worrying how you're going to pay the rent. They screw up the marketing, and you file for bankruptcy. You have no control over the process, and you have to smile and love every minute of it because you're living the dream. You're a Filmmaker, bonafide.

I'm totally depressed now. But let me paint a different picture. You raise equity financing to shoot your movie, maybe on weekends or using vacation days and sick days and personal days. You edit it yourself at night because you don't care if you have a social life or not. You submit to Sundance but don't get in, but you take it in stride because the competition is so fierce. You think about regional festivals but those don't pay, and if you're going to travel around the country with your movie, you're going to need to get paid. You target some independently owned movie theaters and revenue-share, and get local schools and organizations to promote it for you. You put a clip up on YouTube and create a MySpace, a Xanga, and a LiveJournal. You blog the whole thing from start to finish.

You show up at your first screening in Knoxville, Tennessee, and the line is around the block. You collect your half of the tickets and thank everyone for coming. The next day you have twenty new Friendster requests and your Technorati rating spikes thanks to people blogging about your Q&A. You do it in El Paso, Texas, and Dover, Delaware, and State College, PA. You make money everywhere you go, and you use it to pay for your travel and hotel and food. You start selling DVDs you created yourself through all of your websites and people buy them, and you pay back your investors. You have money left for yourself. You're the CEO of your own movie company.

Of course, people will say that self-distribution doesn't carry the same status as having it distributed, financial considerations aside. And writer/directors tend to be incredibly ambitious people, and the DIY scenario can be too humbling.

But the best part about DIY distribution? You don't have to be a good filmmaker to be a success.