Actors as Writers (and the democratic Auteur)

Now that we’ve concluded our video series on writing and story development, you might be ready to start carefully crafting each word of your script – but one of the true advantages (and joys) of microbudget is that it allows for more spontaneous storytelling.

We want our films to evolve at all times, and for us that means we spend some time developing a story, so that we have a set of scenes that work together.  However, we aren’t that concerned with specific dialogue or writing a script.  Again, don’t think of filmmaking as a component process – writing (and rewriting and rewriting) a script, casting, rehearsing – try to bring all of these processes together as a whole, and you’ll find you can truly unleash the potential of your story.  For us, this means not writing a script in a vacuum, rather letting our cast be active in the creation of the “script.”

Writing your story begins with the outline – and as soon as you know who your characters are, you should know who you want to cast.  We couldn’t say it much better than Jim Jarmusch “I start with actors that I know personally or I know their work, and there are things about their work or their presence or their own personality that make a character, that exaggerates some qualities and suppresses other qualities. It’s always a real collaboration for me.”  

Think about who you know who would be great for each part, write a few of lines that would sound perfect coming specifically from them, and then bring your actors in for a table read.  Don’t use your rehearsals as a time blocked out for memorizing and determining the way people should read lines, but instead work on the beats of the story, and allow the actors to take authorship.  Know and trust the people you’ve cast will augment your story in a unique way – Rehearsal will become much more than a time to practice, it will become a time to rewrite, revise, and make your story better.

Give your actors space to improv and create their own lines and motivations.  Realize that writing and acting are very similar disciplines. They draw on actual raw emotional experiences of the artist, that are then re-interpreted, analyzed, and understood until they can be emoted again organically.  The only difference is that a writer can sit around for days trying to figure out how to do it, while an actor often has to do it on the spot.   We turn to Larry David for some wisdom…

When all is said and done you might decide to commit some of your rehearsal work to a script or you might not.  Mike Leigh uses improv with the aim of developing a tight script.  But we create a hybrid document that’s part script, part outline, and part random inspiration, like director Drake Doremus.

Many people view directing as specific and technical – deciding on blocking, line reads, and camera angles – but when you take the helm on set, approach it from the more expansive terms of directing the flow of the story.

There is a misconception that auteurs succeed by demonstrating brute despotic strength, when the reality is that auteurs find success only through understanding and believing in the strengths of the people they work with.

 

 

The In-Between Scenes – Screenwriting 3

In part 3 of our screenwriting series, we’ll see that not all scenes and sequences function in a storytelling function.  Surprisingly few scenes are essential for your audience to comprehend story, but the others aren’t unnecessary - they’re vital to the experience the audience has watching your film.

Microbudget Screenwriting Tips

In good fun, my friend Dexter recently sent me a list of “Microbudget Screenwriting Tips” he came across while perusing the internet.  There are several iterations of these lists floating around online.  The screenwriting tips they offer are recycled from books devoted to low-budget filmmaking that were written a decade or two ago… When DSLRs were just twinkles in their Super 16 mm parents’ lenses.

Most Microbudget Screenwriting  lists consist of a fairly lame set of limits, grounded by lack of ingenuity, and topped off with an appeal to overdone genres.

While the creators of these lists might mean well, they assume outmoded models of filmmaking that ultimately lead to misguided advice.

Limit-based lists might be fine for writers who are seeking a cheapskate producer or unambitious director to take a script off their hands – but if you’re a true microbudget filmmaker, limiting lists are totally useless.

Rather than a set of specific pool rules, here is a list of wide-ranging foundations designed from the ground up for the new age of microbudget production.  Understanding the symbiosis between the practical, artistic, and technical resources you have is key.

1. Leave your story room to evolve.

As we’ve said before on this site – approaching your script as gospel will most likely lead to disillusionment.  Developing a good story doesn’t require that you write a screenplay.  And the screenplay you’ve written in no way guarantees you will make a quality film.  A good story is a lot more valuable than a “good script” because it is more adaptable and allows your film room to grow at every phase.

2. The more the merrier.

Writing in a vacuum makes you miss opportunities – this goes for people who are writers exclusively to writer/director/producer triple threats.  One of the best things you can do is know who your full cast and crew are before you commit a word to the page.  On your own, you might only have access to a few locations like your apartment, your parent’s house, and your sister’s crappy car.  But say your DP has access to a boat, your lead actress can get you into the restaurant she works at, and your sound guy’s brother is the chief of police.  All of a sudden, the scope of your production has grown exponentially.

3. Film is a visual medium.

Dialogue scenes and coverage are for 70s TV sitcoms.  Showing characters in a quiet moment and simple act is much more powerful than anything you can say (and as an added bonus you’ll find these scenes usually only require a minimum of takes).

Leaving things unexplained lets your audience be active in the storytelling, rather than sending them to sleep with exposition.  The less an audience knows, the more they want to find out, the more that they’ll imagine, and the more that they will start to take a personal stake in the story.

The Kuleshov Effect remains the most powerful theory in cinema.  Think of it not only in terms of montage, but in terms of storytelling and the narrative juxtaposition of entire scenes and sequences.

4. Nobody knows what a portal looks like.

The suspension of disbelief is the gravity that holds the cinematic universe together.  Every time a film is made, a new reality is created.  The reality unique to each individual film has no relation to our “real world” or the reality of the films that came before or will come after it.

But frequently, filmmakers forget about this vital phenomenon – and so when someone tells them they can’t write a microbudget film about time travel because they’ll never pull off the effects, that filmmaker wistfully sighs “someday” and proceeds to shoot a story about mumbly people who hang out in their studio apartment.

Instead – what every filmmaker should realize, is that they don’t need a billion dollar special effects portal.  Because as a filmmaker, you have the power to redefine what a portal is.

There are a lot of ways you can do that that don’t require a massive team of 3D designers.  Find a cool physical location to use as the portal – a bizarre doorway in your apartment building, or a public sculpture your actor can run through.  Or create your portal with a creepy shot zooming into the black of a cup of coffee and elaborate sound design.

5. Steal locations.

Being a microbudget filmmaker you probably understand what you can do with a small crew and a minimum of equipment – so never be afraid to use it to your advantage.  If you really want to shoot a scene in your movie where a couple breaks up while attending a Knicks game, then just do it.  Buy some cheap seats, hide some lavs on your actors before you go through the turnstiles, and shoot the scene on your iPhone.  Voila.

Even Aranovsky stole the subway scenes in Black Swan.

So let’s stop setting limits as microbudget film storytellers.  Consider not only creative ways to tell your story, but creative ways to expand your resource base, take advantage of small crew size, and re-concieve the core concepts of cinema.

Soon we’ll be posting Part 3 of our screenwriting video series, so stay tuned…

Traversing the Arc – Screenwriting 2

“Without contraries, there is no progression…”

- William Blake

An 18th century clairvoyant can provide us a lot of insight when it comes to writing for the screen.

In part 2 of our series on microbudget screenwriting, we’ll dig deeper into the Mirror Moment to uncover the Core Contrast of our protagonist – and see how that energy is harnessed to power a complete 3-Act story arc.

In our next lesson, we’ll look at how to create a film that actively engages the audience in the act of storytelling, by comparing microbudget film to genre pictures.

 

The Mirror Moment – Screenwriting 1

Today launches Part 1 of our microbudget screenwriting series.  We’ll look at the concept of the midpoint mirror moment, and see how it can create the foundations for story arc.

We’ll analyze a few well-known examples of mirror moments in popular works of dramatic narrative including: The Wrestler, Senna, Jules et Jim, The Empire Strikes Back, Mad Men, Breakfast of Champions, Waiting for Godot, and Hamlet.

While it may be a bit premature to proclaim myself the McKee of Microbudget, I find it hard to resist…  Such a nice alliterative ring to it, heh heh.

In Part 2 we’ll discuss how to use these foundations to create a complete narrative in only a few simple steps.

The Art in Yourself

Stanislavski says to love the art in yourself, not yourself in the art.  When I first heard this quote a very long time ago I thought it was backwards – I felt so proud to be part of the theatre (or the arts in general) that I thought it seemed somewhat egotistical to first pledge allegiance to the art/talent within myself, and reject the love that I had for the arts in general.  I didn’t realize that to “love ourselves in the art” was to become enamored with the idea of “being an artist, or actor, or writer, or filmmaker, etc.”

But a few years later, after re-evaluating his words, I began using Stanislavski’s quote as a bit of a mantra – so I always remembered that I should dedicate myself to the unique thoughts and ideas I had to offer.   That basically, I should pay attention to what’s within me, and not try to adapt myself to better adhere to the fantasy of being a . . . fill in the blank (artist, writer, filmmaker, etc).

Face it – the human condition yearns for definition – it longs to be part of something.   We’re searching for the costume, the lifestyle, the community – anything that can confirm our specific place in the world.  The trouble is, we tend to ignore the messiness that could earn us our “specific place,” and dream only of the limited cliché’s and generalities our current culture offers.

It was my experiences as an actor that led me to see this more clearly.  Actors are trained to steer clear of generalities (I’m not saying that we don’t still fall into this trap repeatedly).  Generalities are comforting, gratifying, and just feel right.  If I play a cop, I put the uniform on, I fall in love with “being a cop,” I become every cop film I ever watched . . . and soon I’m no longer trying to play the given circumstances of the scene truthfully (from moment to moment). I’m more obsessed with the fun and satisfaction of playing the archetypal police officer.

So as a writer, artist, filmmaker . . .  try be aware of the seductive power of “being a thing” and focus more on the actual “doing of things.”  And as you’re “doing,” pay attention to what’s coming out of you – try to distinguish between the mysterious (and unique) elements that are driving your work, from the fantasies of what you’ve always hoped your work to be (and the system it will be validated by).

This also holds true for collaborations.  James and I both have pretty good ideas about the kind of work we produce on our own, but together we become a whole new beast.  And while  we struggle to maintain our individual aesthetics, the work is at its best when we surrender to the fruits of our collaboration (no matter how strange and unfamiliar they seem).

Marina Abramovic says that you should “listen to the art you create, it knows more than you do.”   This is hard to do with all the noise out there.   Often the lines between expression, fantasy, and ambition blur – and sometimes that’s okay.   The key is to be open to the more mysterious art that wants to come out, while constantly questioning the art that seems to fulfill the needs of a perceived “place in the world.”

How does this relate to microbudget movie making?  As we keep saying, current conditions and technology have given us some tremendous creative opportunities.  Let’s not blow it by living mini versions of our Hollywood fantasies.  Let’s try to foster the emergence of the unadulterated art that’s wiggling around inside our brains.

The Microbudget Film System

Now that we’ve explored some of the trends and traits of microbudget filmmaking, we’re ready to share our process of production with you.  Starting next week, we’ll launch a series of video tutorials that will comprise a complete online course in microbudget filmmaking.

Before we do, it’s vital to understand that the predominant way filmmaking is taught and films are produced is detrimental to a successful production.  The current studio and major indie model is linear, compartmentalized, and segregated – it’s an antiquated model that makes filmmaking difficult, laborious, and (over)extends the process to the point that a majority of projects never get past the script stage.

As microbudget filmmakers, we want to do the opposite – think of our film as an entire organism. By approaching your film holistically, you significantly accelerate the filmmaking process and exponentially increase the chances your film will be made and ultimately seen.  Take a minute to familiarize yourself with Systems Thinking, then let’s see how it applies to microbudget filmmaking.

The standard model of filmmaking starts with the script.  Scripts are written and revised ad nauseam until deemed “ready.”  This is usually done in a vacuum, where the writer has no real idea of the budget, how the director will pull off the scenes as described, or what actor will be in it.  Writers often hear producers and agents advising to “Write with a certain actor in mind for the role, or director who would like the material” or sometimes they suggest “Think of a budget range when you start writing.”  But if you write with Ryan Gosling in mind, and he doesn’t like your taut indie thriller script – then you’re facing a major rewrite when your producer friend tells you they can get your script to Paul Giamatti.  Likewise, if you write a massive $200 million fantasy adventure, what can you do with it once the few companies capable of producing it passes?  You’ll never be able to scale it down to a level you can shoot it at.

The script only represents the first phase.  Our example hints at the next steps in the process – selling the script, more rewrites, attaching talent, raising funds – and that all occurs before even considering production. Oh, and after that there’s a little thing called distribution, a process in which the current model is totally dependent on another process – marketing.  In a linear method of filmmaking, the more steps that exist the greater the odds that anyone of those steps will fail and sink your production.

The point of importance in all this is that having something “in mind” means you don’t have it “in hand.”

Even if we scale our hypothetical film project down from the multimillions to the microbudget we can see this in effect.  You write your script, make all your plans, and then put it up on kickstarter with the hope of raising $25,000.  But if you don’t make that goal, your movie doesn’t get funded.

There is nothing more important in microbudget filmmaking than knowing what you have from the moment you start developing your story.  This is where the systems theory comes in.  By knowing exactly who you will cast, what locations you have available, the equipment you can get, and how much money is in your pocket to spend – you can find creative ways to make these converge, feed off of each other, and maximize the potential of your project.

While it may be a bit idealistic to assume that you will know all of this going into the development of your story, the more you know the better off you are.  See how the elements you have at hand can connect and enhance each other – this creates fewer steps in production and reduces the risk of absolute failure.

As for the elements you don’t have at your disposal right off the bat, be flexible and let them develop as a result of the growing, breathing system you have in place.  None of this is to suggest compromise – your system will only get stronger if you can approach your film as a whole.  Instead of taking separate steps (writing, casting, scouting, etc) try to approach and accomplish the development of your film simultaneously – for example rehearsing on location prior to committing your scene to the page.  You’ll start to realize it’s the linear model that makes many more compromises – with each successive step dependent upon a cause and effect reaction to occur.

Systems thinking doesn’t just apply to getting started and developing your project, it extends all the way through to distribution.  Think about every possible way you can bring each element related to your film together.  Take our website as a relevant example.  Many productions launch an informational marketing site related to, but ultimately separate from their film. With howtomakeafeaturefilmfor1000bucks – we’re integrating our story and production with the site.  It extends beyond marketing, becoming part of the process of making our film ONE BODY.

As we take you through the process, we’ll show you how to view story, production, and distribution together in a way that provides foundations, rather than depends on the inadequate formulas of the model in place.  

 

The Future of Microbudget Film

Microbudget filmmaking is still in its nascent stages.  Though the occasional indie filmmaker has turned a small budget project into a mainstream success, it is only recently that the tools to create and effectively distribute film outside of traditional channels have become available – and that’s what will make for the possibility of microbudget proliferation.

Many first time filmmakers still view microbudgets as a stepping stone to the studios, but real opportunities in self-distribution will allow microbudget film to form it’s own distinct economy in the future.  By examining some of the current trends in cinema and technology, we can imagine what the DIY film economy might look like a decade down the line.

These aren’t predictions to bet the farm on, rather a few ideas to get us thinking outside the box.

Social Networks, Personal Channels, & Your Audience: We’ll start with an easy one.  We’re just beginning to understand how we can reach our audiences, and these technologies have the potential to change the way film is consumed.  Right now, studio and most indie productions aim for a broad audience to fill up seats in a theater – but as microbudget filmmakers we can aim for a loyal targeted audience that we can reach instantly across the globe.  As social marketing and search tools evolve perhaps we even find that there is an “Audience Connection Optimization” based on the principles of SEO.

Crowdfunding: Kickstarter, IndieGoGo, and others have enjoyed success so far.  It’s interesting that the most popular donation/incentive combo is usually something around $20 that gets the giver a digital or DVD copy of the film.  Essentially, this is a sort of pre-sale.  With a little mutation of the crowdfunded idea, we can see pre-sales as a way to finance and sell microbudget films.

Whether micro or massive budget, the current film economy works on make a product, market a product, sell a product.  It doesn’t have to.  Say there is no sale after production, the only way to get a copy of your film is during an exclusive, limited time pre-sale (that raises funds and profit) for your production.  It’s a new take for consumers, but with smaller budgets and more targeted audiences, a pre-sale only model could be sustainable.

Streamlined Production: Out of necessity, many microbudget filmmakers streamline their productions in both equipment and time.  What may have seemed to be a hindrance in the past, might become an advantage in the future.

Think of it this way… A current “indie” film might have a production budget of around $2 million to support a 30 day shoot and six months of post.  To write the perfect script in order to raise the money to get the production off the ground and finally completed can take upwards of two years.  Say a microbudget film needs only $50,000 to support a couple weeks worth of writing, six day shoot, and six weeks of post.  You can make a feature film in about three months.  In the same time our hypothetical indie producer has turned out one feature, our DIY producer could make eight.  It’s a lower risk up front, considerably increases the chance that any one feature will find an audience, and arguably the chance for reward is the same in the end.

In 2022…

There’s a good chance indie film as we know it today will be dead or close to it.  Instead of high-risk multi-million dollar productions bankrolled by investors seeking a return a few years down the line when the project is completed, we might see an economy of low budget film channels that are financed through core audience pre-sales or perhaps advertising.

Or maybe a wanton comet smashes into Earth on 12/12/12 and obliterates DIY and studio filmmakers alike.

But until then, as you use the new filmmaking tools at your disposal to create your microbudget masterpiece, consider how you might make the biz evolve as well.

 

 

Cocteau’s Pencil

“Film will only became an art when its materials are as inexpensive as pencil and paper.”   - Jean Cocteau

 

Cinema, more than most art forms, sucks resources (money, time, energy, more money) – and when you finally make your movie (no matter the scope of the project) there’s a whole lot at stake.  With so much on the line we don’t allow ourselves room to fail.  But we need this room to explore and play, so that we feel comfortable taking risks.  This is the space where art happens.

We’re not quite at pencil and paper prices, but we’re getting closer.  And new more affordable tools are allowing filmmakers the ability to play more.  We can run the camera longer. We can shoot more takes, trying out different approaches.  We can reshuffle clips and play with sound at the click of a button. We can bring our cameras out and shoot test runs, rehearsals, and locations scouts.  We have the space to tinker.

In the past – tinkering was a luxury allowed only to a small group of highly funded, highly trained individuals.  And even the smallest of risks seemed like a huge leap. But now that the technology is cheap enough to be used by a wider range of people – we’ll have more tinkering, more playing, and more risk taking as this new mass of filmmakers learn to produce their own unique movies.  They won’t be tied to the traditions and procedures of the past – they’ll be free to come up with their own methodologies.

And yes – lots of crap will be made – and those who see themselves as highly trained craftsman will poo poo hopeful filmmakers armed with DSLR cameras (a viewpoint I can certainly appreciate).  But instead of cynicism aimed at the slew of potential flops created by an expanding group of amateur auteurs, I suggest we embrace the creative possibilities of what those failures might lead us to next.

So perhaps we can provide some latitude to those of us (both trained and untrained as filmmakers) who hope to take advantage of these now accessible tools to create our own cinema.  A new democratic cinema whose affordability will allow for diversity, experimentation, and innovation.  A cinema that seeks to live up to Cocteau’s artistic expectations.

 


(Run)Time is On Our Side

This week we’re going to explore a few of the ways that microbudget filmmaking might change the medium of cinema.  As always, the goal is to seek new experiments, not let convention dictate what DIY does.

So, what is a feature film anyway?  Popular consensus says it’s a story told in something shy of three hours on a big screen in a dark room.  But it doesn’t take 120 – 180 minutes to tell a compelling, complete story on screen.  So why has this become the standard?

When it requires a half-hour public transit ride (or drive across town) to get to the theater, plus tickets are $14 a go, it seems reasonable that most people would want to get a couple of hours worth of arts & entertainment for their trouble.  But like it or not, the traditional theatrical experience won’t be around forever – and we’re closer to the end than the beginning.  Records are being set at the box office, but only because ticket prices are higher.  Attendance is in a several year state of decline.

We all realize the way movies are being consumed is in a serious state of flux.  People are viewing films at home, on the go, and the most brazen frak-the-man types are logging into their Netflix accounts at work.  It’s easy to understand that the conditions in those environments are less than ideal for devoting 2.5 hours to watching a film.

As microbudget filmmakers, we should consider creating shorter feature films that will have an advantage in emerging viewing environments.  Stories can be told in a few minutes, but in order to create a real connection between audience and character you need to spend some quality time.  Most of us would agree that an “hour long” TV drama can contain a complete and compelling character driven story in a 44-minute episode.  In the next few years it’s entirely possible that microbudget filmmakers and non-theatrical audiences find symbiosis in 45 – 60 minute feature stories.

Another argument for shorter features is based on a common (misguided) complaint – “There are too many films out there already.”  Part of me wants to automatically dismiss that notion as a condition of our world, since “films” can be substituted with anything produced in a super-industrial society.  But Instead, let’s think of the “too many” sentiment as a chance for evolution to occur.  If people normally watch a 2 hour film, and an increasing number of 2 hour films are being made, over saturation is inevitable.  However, if we start to produce 60 minute features, then in theory people could watch twice as many films.

By being aware of and adapting to the changing habits of the audience and movie delivery methods, microbudget filmmakers can gain an advantage over the stagnant systems in place. Given the choice to watch a 56 minute feature or 134 minute feature on their iPad during lunchbreak, which is your instant viewer more likely to choose?

Ultimately, it may turn out that the 44 minute model isn’t enough to satiate the audiences’ feature appetite, but I’d wager that features running two hours plus will increasingly leave viewers overstuffed.