Saturday, August 13, 2011

31 Questions for New Filmmakers - Part III

Here is the third set of questions from Ted Hope's 31 Questions for Filmmakers, which deal with The Process of Creating.


Generally speaking, when we want to learn about a film, we talk to the director.  But those that make films, know how much they are really collaborations. What makes a fruitful collaboration? What do you do to enhance the collaborative process?

Respect.  It is hard to collaborate with someone you don’t respect. I’m not going to lie and tell you I respect everyone – I don’t.  I think there are a lot of morons out there, and I tend to wear my feelings on my sleeve.  I’m condescending and somewhat sharp-tongued, so if I don’t respect you – there’s a chance you know it. And if I don’t respect you, how on earth can I take insight from you?  I can’t. There are things that can elevate you if you are not necessarily the top at your field – hard work. I can respect that.

It is said that there are only six stories. Maybe twelve. It’s all been done before. And we have seen it all. What do you do to keep it fresh? Is there anything that you can do to subvert the process to keep it original?

That may be true, but there are many ways to tell the same story.  I think the most drastic is where you choose to set your story.  Look at two movies about human organ trafficking – Turistas and Dirty Pretty Things.  The former is based on a bad script, with a mediocre director and crew set in South American jungles.  The latter is an amazing script, with a top notch director and crew set in London.  

To keep it original I try to write about locations I know.  That way my characters feel more real and authentic.  I like to think that when I watch a movie, no matter how fantastical, that I’m being shown a glimpse of that world – almost like a documentary.  And if those characters and places don’t feel real, the movie crumbles for me.

We get noticed because of our successes – but we create them on the back of our failures.  We learn best from the experiences where it doesn’t work.  And yet we still only discuss the success, not the failure. What failures (of your own) have you been able to learn from? How did they change you and your process?

This is a hard one to answer without throwing certain people under the bus. I will try. My first feature is at the same time my biggest success and biggest failure. We were able to build an animation studio from scratch, get an animated film made from start to finish, put together a really solid A-level cast, and get serious theatrical distribution (and be on the first wave of 3D). It was also short listed for a Best Animated Feature Academy Award. At the same time, it’s not a movie I can even sit through. It’s boring and tedious – and I hated the script. I also think the directing is somewhat flat, with fairly weak production design.

I learned to not get into business with people I wasn’t on the same page with creatively – always talk about the end goal.  Don’t get caught up in the process – always keep your eye on the final film. If you do, you’ll be able to vet all decisions made. And if you’re not seeing eye to eye at the beginning, it will only get worse. More than anything, it taught me to spend as much time on the script as you can (same goes for my recent film White Space – which was being pushed forward by two (or three) differing ideas on what the script should be).

I often say one of the best methods of producing is “engineering serendipity.” Have you encountered serendipity in your work and do you think there is anything that you can do to bring more of it into your creative process? Why or why not, and if so, what is it that you and your team can do?

Research. I find serendipity – or happy coincidences – in my writing almost every script lately.  That is because I do a tremendous amount of research.  And I find that the more I dig into a topic, the more things start tying together.  Do your homework. Become as well versed in the subject you’re writing as you can.  From the big things to the small. 

If each member of the production keys does their homework and research – then you can engineer serendipity at a higher rate and with more ease.

Films evolve through the creative process – sometimes most dramatically in the  editing process.  It’s often really hard to reconcile the difference between what we desired and what we achieved. How have you encountered this and how do you move through it?

When I sat through the last short I directed. The first assembly was brutal. It was cringe worthy and had me thinking – ‘man, I suck. I can’t write and I can’t direct.’ In the post process it was cultivated into something I am proud of.  Even the final product isn’t exactly what I envisioned – limitations with lighting, set, camera equipment (which all boil down to money). Part of it is discovering that what reads well on the page doesn’t always translate well to the screen. I’ve learned this a lot when translating my scripts to graphic novel/comic form. That process has actually helped me tremendously.

You move through it by accepting that it will never be what is in your head from the start. That is perfection, and nothing is perfect. It may even be better than what you had in your head, but since it is different it won’t matter to you – however, you need to accept it and as Brock Lesnar says, ‘turn chicken shit into chicken salad.’

“It all starts with the script.” Maybe not, but when do you know a script is ready to shoot, and what is your process of getting it there?

Hard question – because for me, personally, I’ve went into both my features as a producer with a script I wasn’t that confident in. Battle for Terra especially.  I hated that script. But sometimes you just want to make a movie so badly, you put that aside.  And the most important thing I’ve learned is – that is a huge mistake.  You should always be able to fall back on the script.  And if you are working with a director who tells you – the script is a blue print – unless he’s seriously proven himself – walk away. 

As a writer/director, I have one or two people I completely trust in terms of their opinion.  If they tell me it needs work or something doesn’t make sense, I address it.  Usually they are calling bullshit on things I took a shortcut around, and deep down I know it needs to be fixed – I just need to be called out.

Everyone will have an opinion about every script out there – no matter how good.  You have to have confidence in what you’re doing and again, be confident that if anything happens, you can fall back on that script.  Poke as many holes in it as possible.  Dissect it. 

Most of my scripts are becoming graphic novels, so I have these visual guides to help me – and there will inevitably be sections that are boring or lame and I can see that pretty readily.  It’s a luxury to have that – but if you can find someone to storyboard your script for you – do it.  You can cut those storyboards up and edit them into a movie on your computer (getting anyone you can to provide the voices).  You will definitely find the rough patches and holes – at least the glaring ones you may miss in the read.  Just don’t fall in love with your own writing.  I make this mistake all the time.  Then a few months pass, I reread it and ask myself, ‘What the hell was I thinking?  Why do I think I’m so sweet?’

Several directors have told me that most of directing is actually casting.  Regardless of whether that is true, some actors have “it” and sometimes they need something to make “it” pop.  You’ve spotted that “it” and captured “it”. What is “it” and how do you find “it”?

For me, realism.  Do I believe the words coming out of this person’s mouth? Some actors just say their lines – and they can be said well.  Other actors actually understand what they are saying and get you to believe them.

I often wonder why anyone would want to direct. Why would you want to always have 100 decisions in front of you and have over 100 people waiting on your answer?

If you’re a storyteller – it is the ultimate medium. Plays are in the moment. With films you can create this everlasting story that has more dimensions than a book – and you can use so many more techniques to tell your story.  You have the color palette, the actors you choose, the performances you pull from them, the production design itself, the camera you choose, the stock of that camera, etc… they all play a part in how the story is perceived.  They all matter.  Who wouldn’t want to have access to that kind of storytelling ability?
 
Film, perhaps more so than any other popular art form, is the compromise between art and commerce. How has your art been shaped by both the money you have had or not had? Do you create with budget limitations in mind?

I used to never write to a budget – but over the last three years or so, all of my projects have been written with a budget in mind. The fact is, you can’t get your projects made over a certain threshold as a young producer/director. 

That said, two of my scripts – Chasing Rabbits and Bulderlyns – are big, but are being produced as graphic novels.  So, I have that going for me. Which is nice.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

31 Questions for New Filmmakers - Part II

Here are my answers to Ted Hope's second set of questions, which relate to The Love of Cinema.

What makes a film great for you? Are there certain qualities that make a film better for you?

It’s almost too hard to quantify.  I would love to say – the cinematography, the acting, the shot choices, the sound, the visual effects, the music… but I would put the writing and the story above all of those. Did I connect with the movie?  A great film for me is one that I don’t want to end.   It definitely happens and it is a magical feeling.   I think of a movie like Once, which was so simple, but it just hit a special nerve.

What films have been the most inspiring or influential to you and why?

Everyone in this business has a film they saw and said to themselves, ‘I can do that’.  There were two for me - Brothers McMullen and Pi.  Pi because it was so engrossing and so different – and yet cost so little (comparatively).  Brothers McMullen was special for the same reasons, but also because I’m from almost the same background as Ed Burns. Irish Catholics from Long Island – and the movie was not only a world I know, but a world I lived in.

Over and above those, the two that had the most profound effect on the stories I want to tell and how I want to tell them would be Good Will Hunting and Star Wars.  I want to make films that spawn worlds like Star Wars, and I can only hope to achieve that level of filmmaking (the first three, not the most recent three).  It is epic filmmaking at its best.  And Good Will Hunting was just a perfect movie in so many ways.  It looked great, the score was amazing, the performances were all as good as can be – and the script was tight and refreshing and spellbinding.  I didn’t want that movie to end.  I remember seeing it for the first time in a theater while at Villanova and his red car races down the highway and I was thinking, ‘Please don’t end.  Not yet.’

When you get angry at a movie, what sets you off? Are there common qualities in cinema today that you dislike? Is there something you try to subvert or avoid or rebel against in your work?

Over exposition.  I am a fan of subtlety.  I really like Black Swan (I’m an Aronofsky apologist), but there were moments I could have done without – such as describing to us (at the beginning) what the play – and thus the movie – was about.  Don’t tell me what’s coming.  Let me figure it out for myself.  I think there is a lot of this in cinema today – playing to the lowest common denominator.  I try to not do this in my writing.  I know that at some point things need to be explained – but I guess I’m guilty of erring on the side of not explaining too much.

We are all here presumably partially because we LOVE cinema.  How did your love for movies get sparked and what can we—as a community—do to help others discover a similar pleasure?

I watched a lot of movies growing up in the 80’s.  A lot of John Hughes and Savage Steve Holland movies.  They shaped who I was as much as any other factor.  We were lucky enough to have HBO when I was growing up (it wasn’t as prevalent in homes as it is today) and if anyone from that decade remembers, they used to play movies over and over and over again.  Movies like Better Off Dead, North Shore and – my favorite film of all time – Rad.  These became part of my childhood, and eventually adulthood – quoted nonstop between my family and friends.  I also have fond memories of watching a lot of old movies with my dad.  For some reason he rarely watches new movies, but was always watching black and whites from back in the day.  I didn’t really even know what I was watching at the time, but as I fell in love with movies in my late teens, early twenties – this appreciation definitely came pouring out and shaped what movies I gravitated towards.

Helping others?  I guess by sharing the movies you love.  I am constantly recommending movies to friends.  If someone asks me what they should watch, even if I love a recent studio release – I will recommend a little known gem in the hopes that it sticks and they at least watch it at some point.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

31 Questions for New Filmmakers

About a month ago, Ted Hope posted 25+ Things He Wanted to Know from New Filmmakers.  I'm going to share my answers to these 31 questions, but in sections...

The first set of questions relate to 'Getting Started'.

Was there a particular event or time that you recognized that filmmaking was not just a hobby, but that it would be your life and your living?

I was studying abroad at Cambridge University in England… and there was all of this life outside of the bubble of the North East around me.  It was the first time I realized that there was more out there in the world than just the world of finance, being a cop or teacher – which is what you do on Long Island.  And at Villanova University everyone was pretty much clones of each other.  I fit in socially, but I knew I just didn’t fit in for some reason.  And I was bursting at the seams to do this – reading voraciously everything I can get my hands on film related.  When I came back I dropped out of Villanova and started to pursue film.

Is it harder to get started or to keep going?  What was the particular thing that you had to conquer to do either?

For me, the initial act of getting started was by far the hardest thing I had to do.  In many ways I made this decision alone.  I actually went back to Villanova the next semester – after three days I was completely miserable and wanted nothing to do with being there.  It felt like the whole scene passed me by.  So I walked to the bursar’s office and told them I would like to withdraw.  I remember being white as a ghost and I must have been shaking – cause the woman behind the counter knew something was wrong.  Me doing that and not telling my parents was the no turning back moment of my life.  It was right then that I decided I was going to choose happiness over money.  Over the fallout my decision would create.  Keep in mind, I was a pretty high ranked finance/accounting student at one of the better north east schools in the country – which is a feeder for Wall Street.  Fresh off studying economics at Cambridge.  My parents weren’t too happy.

Once I made that decision, I jumped in pretty full force.  It was pretty liberating.  Going to school and actually caring about learning – not caring about what grade you got.  It turned a light bulb on for me.  I did really well from the start, all the way through USC’s Peter Stark Program. So it wasn’t a huge struggle.  The struggle happened as I was producing Battle for Terra and then left Snoot Entertainment.  Because you realize quickly – making money at this is very hard.  It’s been a real grind.  But I made a decision that day I left Villanova – I was going to choose this over money.  So my choices have been dictated by that (much to my parent’s dismay).  It makes my life much harder – but if I wanted to make money I would have worked on Wall Street.  I’m not in this for that or meeting with stars, etc… There are stories I want to share and my goal is to share them exactly how I see them in my head.

What advice would you give to someone who wanted to have a life creating film?

Make sure this is truly what you want.  Because real filmmaking isn’t glamorous.  Writing is a lonely art.  Editing is a lonely practice.  Being on set is laborious and the days are long and taxing.  You’re not curing cancer, but it can be stressful.  Ask yourself – are you doing this because you absolutely love film/tv/storytelling – or are you interested in meeting famous people or being famous yourself?  If the answer is the latter – go get rich doing something else and then invest in movies.  We need you too.

What was the most important lesson you had to learn that has had a positive effect on your film? How did that lesson happen?

That you can’t control everything.  Once you understand that film is a collaborative medium and let go – you can focus on what you can control. 

It happened at a screening of a short I directed.  It was okay, but it wasn’t exactly what I wanted.  And it was there that I thought – I need to stop hiring my friends.

You are a collaborator.  How have you discovered members of your team and how do you keep the relationship with them strong?

This is way too broad of a question.  As a filmmaker you have many members of your team, and thus many different avenues to them. 

A few of my collaborators have come through school (USC’s Peter Stark Producing Program), or through functions at the school.  A large majority of my collaborators have come through the internet.  Seems weird to even type – but I found my artists on all my books online.  And they are scattered around the globe.  Mark Newbauer from Mike the Pike (The Skin Trade, White Space and the company financing my next 3 graphic novels) found my email online and just shot me an email.  I met Ken Locsmandi and the team at Filmworks the following way – Dane Smith, a Producer on Battle for Terra, knew I was looking to direct something… he set me up with a DP for one of the short films he produced, Kev Robertson.  Kev had just DP’s a feature directed by this guy Rufus.  I met Rufus at Kev’s house randomly.  He emailed me and I went to meet him and a partner of his on a project called Island of Diablo Madre.  That partner was Ken.  We met and started talking about fighting, etc… and kept in touch and then our relationship grew from there.  Since then I just produced White Space which he directed.  The production designer on that film is someone I hope to use on everything I ever do, Jessee Clarkson.  He responded to an ad I posted on Mandy.com.  It turned out he worked out for a company that shares space with Filmworks/FX called New Deal Studios – and they gave him the thumbs up. 

You are here at the Universe’s Grand Temple Of Cinephilia.  You are here because of your work and how you do it.  What are personal attributes that make for a good filmmaker, and what do you do to foster them?

The first is perserverance.  You are going to be told no a lot.  You are going to be rejected a lot.  People, lots of them, are going to pass on your scripts/work.  You can let that get you down, or you can keep getting better.  The best revenge is success. 

The other two are somewhat conflicting – an iron will and open mindedness.  You need to believe that what you are doing is right.  Correction, you need to know that what you are doing is right (difference is – go in educated.  Always be the smartest person in the room).  Someone like James Cameron doesn’t break or bend.  But with that, you need to accept that film is a collaborative medium.  Here’s where it gets tricky – how does any of what I said make sense?  The first part is surrounding yourself with people who are good at their job.  Even on low budget films – they are out there.  Don’t hire friends.  Hire good people.  Hire knowledgeable people.  Hire people who are better than you at their position.  You’re the producer/director – you should know how to talk about lighting, production design, wardrobe – you should know exactly what you want – but you need people to carry that out.  And sometimes, often times if they are good – they will have great ideas in terms of adding or enhancing your original idea.  I just had a talk with Jessee about production design for my next project – he pitched me something awesome that completely changed the way I saw the script, not even just that scene.  He also pitched me something I didn’t buy because it didn’t fit with what I was trying to accomplish.  I explained to him why and he accepted that.  Which I guess makes for a number four – be able to express yourself.  If you disagree with someone or something, explain why.  If you’re an asshole, you better be the next coming of Orson Welles or you will have a shitty career.

When I wanted to devote my life to making movies, my first decision was NY or LA.  How does where you live influence how and what you make, and how do you think NY currently effects your work and process?

Funny this is a question for Ted, because I have faced this decision my entire film career.  Being from NY, my entire family is from NY so that is my home.  It will always be my home.  Obviously there is a lot more going on in LA in terms of movers and shakers – but you can definitely do this from NY.  I have to be honest, I personally feel more creative in NY.  In LA, everyone is in entertainment – all of your experiences are based around entertainment or people involved in entertainment.  You aren’t experiencing unique/different people, doing different things.  I draw from the real world and being in NY just opens that world up.  Being outside of LA also keeps you a bit more grounded.  No one is blowing your head up, and you’re surrounded by non-industry people.  Industry people tend to think what they’re doing is the greatest and most important thing in the world.  Let’s be real – we are doing movies/tv.  We aren’t curing a disease or saving lives, etc… It’s a big universe and we are small specs in it. 

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

No More Haircuts

I turn another year older today. Apparently another year wiser and more experienced. It was definitely a year of learning. About my body as it crumbles because of years of damage due to sports, about filmmaking as I produced White Space, about myself as I continue to struggling with my wants (becoming a fighter and director, somehow at the same time) vs. my needs (keeping money in the bank). About life in general from my girlfriend and her daughter. And death from my grandfather, Frank Eidmann.

We buried him yesterday. Not the greatest birthday present a guy can ask for, but such is life. My grandfather (the only one I got to meet) and I were never that close while I was growing up. He was a pretty heavy drinker and had been since my mom was growing up. He was a WWII hero and later a fireman... but he was never really interested in the lives of his children and grandchildren. I don't necessarily fault him for that - that was his decision and it was his life to live (he was sober for the last 10-15 years). But since I moved back to help out with him and my grandma, I have spent a lot more time with him and we have grown pretty close. I will never regret for a second moving back home. My career sort of stalling a bit (financially at least) was the best thing that could have happened to me. I got to spend more time with both of them.



I was primarily responsible for taking him to all of his doctor's appointments, and for a while his physical therapy (until he kind of gave up on it).  Some of which were quick and easy, and others that had us waiting for hours.  He never wanted to leave the house, and would look for any excuse to duck out of an appointment - but I could usually get him to go. While there he usually bitched about the wait, or the old people around (he was about 90% blind)... and most of the time it was pretty funny. At least to me.

The one thing that I think I'll always keep with me when I remember him were our trips to the barber, which was another task of mine.  He hated going, but hated when his hair got too long even more. He also couldn't stand his barber, Sam.  It made the trips that much more interesting. My grandfather wasn't much for words and Sam didn't shut the hell up. Whenever we got there and there was someone in the chair, and Sam was talking his ear off - my grandpa would go off about them shutting the hell up (he was pretty much deaf as well and would speak in his outdoor voice at all times). Sam also wanted to cut his hair too short, and my grandma was very specific with me in terms of how she wanted his hair to be (sideburns not too short, etc...) so I would have to stand over his shoulder as he cut the hair. It was all pretty funny.

He told everyone who drove them that they were his favorite chauffeur.  But I'm pretty sure I was his favorite for real, and that's how I'll remember my grandpa.

Baby Joseph (the youngest great grandchild) and Frank Eidmann



Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Producing vs. Directing

I will start off by saying that I got into producing so that I could produce my own projects as a director.  Of course, that hasn't quite happened yet on the feature side (shorts and what not)... but it is still the case.  Although I do love certain material and want to be responsible for bringing it to the big screen (or smaller screens), in terms of overseeing the script, director that is brought on, casting, etc...  This applies more to things in the world of fantasy - worlds that need to be brought to life.  I don't need to be the director to see that through.  I guess science fiction can fall into that category as well, but I'm actually a bigger fantasy fan.  It's kind of funny to me that my first two feature films are science fiction - set in space.  I like sci-fi, but it isn't something I grew up obsessing over.  Star Wars maybe, but that is a totally separate animal in my opinion.

Film is a director's medium.  Ultimately, the producer is seeing the director's vision through. So when it comes down to it, I want to be a director. I admire producers (those that actually run their own set), but I don't really enjoy doing it. The paperwork, the coddling of everyone (you're basically like a kindergarten teacher), the finger pointing every time something goes wrong.  For the most part, it isn't fun. I could be working in finance and making way more money than I currently am - having no fun. I got lucky on my last film, White Space, in that I was partly responsible for the writing - so my connection to the material was greater.  So not only was I lead producer, but a lot of times the actors or crew would come to me about the story.  That is what I enjoyed the most.  And that is why I want to be directing.

As an aside, what may turn out to be my first feature as a director is R.E.M. - which is a science fiction drama/thriller.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Fire the Caterer

I remember one of the refrains from a professor of mine at Stark was 'Always fire the caterer after the first few days.' It was from someone I have a tremendous amount of respect for, who was a producer on Seinfeld, among other hit TV shows and movies.

It was said in a joking manner, but only slightly. The lesson was that you need to exert your power on the set, while showing the crew and cast that you care about them. And of course the caterer might suffer, but they are the sacrificial lamb.

This lesson definitely did not escape me when I had to fire the caterer on White Space after a few days. I didn't set out to do this... but the food wasn't that good, and it was a goal of mine that the crew and cast be served the best food possible (for our budget). And the guy serving it was creeping me out. I just found it pretty funny that the first person to fall under the axe was the caterer, after this lesson imparted on me back at USC.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Graham Taylor's 'Prescription for the Evolution of Indie Film'

Still catching up on all of the blog posts by Ted Hope in recent weeks and came across the one about WME's Graham Taylor's speech at LAIFF (Prescription for the Evolution of Indie Film).

You can listen to it through the link on the blog.  But the best part was re-posted on Hope's site, and gets to what I was talking about yesterday as to what I felt was the most important first lesson in filmmaking:

"In closing: I’m not an optimist because I’m a lunatic. It’s a learned optimism, one that’s founded upon years of experience, tenacity, and perseverance in this business. We have to be educated on the issues and challenges that face us. I have not gone into the economic issues today as they are well-documented and we are bombarded with them every day. BORING!
What’s not boring is making shit happen. We are the inmates taking over the asylum. We Build, Enable and Activate content, financing and distribution. We are in a revolution and now is our time. We finally have a bigger seat at the table."

Unions. SAG.

Suck.  They create a toxic environment in terms of actually making films.  I understand they are created to help those that fall under the union - but they don't.  They make it harder for anyone trying to make a film.  It drives business not only outside of certain states/cities - but also outside the US.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Best First Lesson In Filmmaking


I just landed in NY after wrapping principle on my first live action feature as a Producer and just happened to read an old post from Ted Hope's indieWire blog.

Here are some that I agree with wholeheartedly:

wvfilmmaker Jason Brown 
whether you believe you can or you believe you can’t - you’re right. 

dnbrasco David Davoli
Choose your partners wisely.

FilmmakerMag Scott Macaulay
Best lesson? I wrote about this in the mag, and it comes from James S. in 1994: “Get people to say no and then move on.”

Kleb28 Mitch Klebanoff
Know your audience.

Baanzi Larry Long
if you want to direct, then direct. Don’t try to work your way up through the ranks. 


im2b dl willson
as a director/producer Mike Figgis “90% of the director’s battle is won or lost in casting”
Brian Linse: “Good, Fast, Cheap - pick two.”

Michael Gaston: “Get it in writing.”

Those are all good, valuable lessons.  But they aren't the first lesson you need to learn.  For me, the first lesson you need to learn is a variation on Larry Long's:

If you want to do something, then do it.  Don't try to work your way up through the ranks.  People don't hand things to you - you have to go and take them.  

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Harbor Moon Book Plates from DCBS

The book plates from DCBS just arrived... pretty cool stuff.  Now I just need to get them signed.  Sweet.

A full month since the last post?  Crazy.  Guess that means I've been busy.  Not going to lie - probably a good thing for me.  Which means better and cooler shit coming out of my mouth in the future.  Stay tuned.