Thursday, July 11, 2013

Festival Sumbissions Pt. III - KISS me - Please!

-->
It’s time to come clean on shorts…

Notice, festivals never ask you to submit your ‘clam-diggers’ for competition.  There is not a ‘capri pant’ category.  The industry phrase is ‘Short Films.’   Short. 

What is ‘short?’ 

“Oooh!  I got this one,” you say – raising your arm high and waving it around with the same spastic energy of a fishing reel that’s snagged an Alaskan King salmon in the throes of spawning season.  “A short film is any film under an hour – OR whatever the maximum time allotment is on your WAB requirement page.  Suck it! Yeah!  High fives all around!”
You’re right – kind of.  Many festivals allow ‘short film’ submissions up to 60 minutes in length with 60 or 61 minutes being the bridge into what is considered the ‘feature film’ category.

“So my movie is 45 minutes long.  It’s a short!  See?  Easy-peasy!”

Not exactly.  See, at the end of the day, when programming a film festival, long shorts are frequently the first to get cut. 

“No fair!  You just said they could be up to 60 minutes long and mine’s only 45!  Why would you say that if you don’t mean it?”

It’s not that we don’t mean it.  Scheduling usually breaks into two-hour blocks, which allow time for a typical feature film to be introduced, screened and then followed up with a Q&A.  So shorts are usually divided up into thematic ‘Shorts Programs’ that will fit inside that same two-hour window with time for a brief intro and a discussion to follow. 

“So you’ve still got another 45 – 65 minutes of runtime in that slot.  What’s the problem?”

True.  But by and large we get a very high volume of very good short films.  So the problem is your 45-minute short needs to be BETTER than FOUR to FIVE other shorts of a similar theme to program it.  And I have more disheartening news.  In most cases, a 45-minute short (or any short over 25 minutes usually) is not tight enough to make the cut. 

Remember all those things I cautioned about in my first blog?  Pacing, economy of visual storytelling, montage abuse?  More often than not, long shorts are chief offenders.  They don’t enter scenes as late as possible.  They don’t get out before it gets boring.  They take too long with slow-moving artistic camera angles that don’t propel the story.

“You just don’t understand my art!” you say, closing your eyes and sticking your fingers in your ears.  “La, la, la, la – I can’t hear youuuuu!”

Maybe you’re right.  Maybe I don’t understand your art.  But most of us on these committees are here because we love film, and we have an especially soft spot for indie film.  We WANT to see ‘cutting edge.’  We WANT to program films that make us think and give us something to talk about afterward.  But we don’t want the Q&A to be, “What the hell was that movie even supposed to be about?  I don’t understand the point!”  And even if I ‘get’ what your trying to do, if there are other films that do it better, yours won’t get programmed. 

Sure there are a few exceptions when it comes to long shorts – and they’re almost ALL documentaries.  Docs are unique animals that are afforded a little more fluidity.  But a programmed 45-minute doc will never feel like it’s 45 minutes long.

“So what do I do with this killer 45-page script I wrote?”

Trim the fat.  Turn it into a super-tight 8 – 20 minute script.  Or flesh it out.  Add a B-story and make it a full-blown feature film.  But please, Please, PLEASEmake sure you get some money and few decent actors before you shoot it!  (Coming soon in another blog.)  The bulk of 25-plus-minute narrative shorts feel underdeveloped or under edited.  Work on making something AMAZING in 10 minutes or less. 

I mean, think about it – would you rather see a great pair of legs in capri pants or Daisy Dukes? 

‘Nough said!

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Good "News" Everybody!



Good news everybody!

No - s'rsly - Three Things! is a good way to watch the news!  Grab your favorite beverage and watch me and a couple friends riff on what's new in the world.  Each broadcast (we're starting with 1 per week) will feature a 'Word of the Day.'  Every time we use it - have a drink with us!

Comments and suggestions are appreciated.  We'll give you a shout out in our next broadcast if we choose YOUR Word of the Day suggestion! We're really excited about this project :D

Friday, July 5, 2013

Film Selection Part II - Cover me!









-->(Photo from Thomas Beatie's book Labor of Love - Unless you've pushed your film out of a vag/man-gina - spare me the metaphor please!)

Just processed another 20+ submissions for the film festival I coordinate.  I even snuck a peak at an animated student film (not my category, but it looked REALLY cute – and it was!)

Alas – in the process of inputting some submissions, I found some more cringe-worthy faux pas(es).  In the interest of saving future submitters the embarrassment and other coordinators the headache – here is my latest gripe.

1) Cover Letter Do’s and DON’T EVERS! 

Some people submit with a cover letter.  Some do not.  I don’t have a preference on the receiving end, but if you send one, I take the time to read it.  A light-hearted handshake is great.  A quick log line or story tease is nice.  And if you are submitting for consideration in a specific category (First-time Filmmaker, Gender/Theme/Genre Category, Locale Specific Production, etc.) it’s helpful to get a quick note to draw that to my attention.  That way, I can make sure it’s properly sorted and assigned to the right judges from the start.  But there is a phrase I see over and over again that absolutely makes me cringe. 

“This project was a labor of love…”  This is pretty much interchangeable with something indicating the work I am about to view is a “passion project.”  Usually following such a smushy-gushy statement is a disclaimer about how ‘sooo many people worked sooo hard,’ and volunteered or “donated countless hours of time and equipment.”  When you write this, you believe this seals your submission as a testament to the wonderfulness of your story, script and vision. 

“Look!” you’re yelling.  “My movie is so amaze-balls that I didn’t have to pay people.  They came to my set in droves begging to be a part of MY no-budget film!” 

But, my dear filmmaker, something gets more hopelessly lost in that translation than a Yeti in the Sahara.  Would you like to know what those words are really saying to the judges?
 
“I’m an amateur.  I couldn’t pull together any funding for my project, because no one with half a functioning brain cell believed in it enough to invest actual money.  It might not look all that great because I couldn’t afford to pay for professional equipment or services.  So go easy on it, because we shot it in my mom’s back yard, ate pizza every day for both catering and crafty, and the only actors and crew I could find were people who I went to high school with who still haven’t left town and gotten real jobs either.” 

Harsh?  You bet.  But only because there is a 92% accuracy rate of that written sentiment matching the physical quality of the work presented. 

Got news for you ‘Spielberg Jr.’ – EVERY film is a labor of love.  Every completed project is the culmination of thousands of hours put in by dozens to hundreds of trained workers busting their collective asses over 12+ hour days.  These people, even when they’re getting paid, are choosing this industry over home-cooked meals, a kid’s little league game, and steady checks with paid vacation time.  I’m glad you love your project.  I want to love it too.  I really do!  But when you send me an excuse in the cover letter, it sends up more red flags than North Korea.  

“But, I hear filmmakers say that on late night talk shows all the time!” you sputter in disbelief. 

Of course you do.  They can say that about a groundbreaking documentary or a gritty indie that ALREADY HAS DISTRIBUTION.  Then it’s called marketing.  That’s the filmmaker (who is already accomplished – hence why he is on Letterman and you are not) explaining why his film is in limited release cinemas instead of every multiplex in ‘Merica.  Those films are usually still made with between 2 and 10 million dollars.  

So what do you put in a cover letter?  Names of recognizable talent and crew are great.  A derivative work is also appropriate (the passionate retelling of Johnny Appleseed in a modern context.)  If the film has won any awards or is an official selection at a high-profile festival, that’s useful too!  If you’re a filmmaker whose work has screened at the festival in the past, that usually puts you on the expedited list, so let us know.  Don’t bother to tell me what other festivals you’ve submitted to, or that you made it to a ‘semi-final’ round before getting rejected – (yep, that was in one of the letters.) 

At the end of the day, a cover letter isn’t all that important for your submission, because what we’re looking for is a great film.  But if you write a poor cover letter, then we’re not expecting the script or finished product to be all that great.  If all else fails, just write, “We are pleased to submit Zombies from Valhalla for consideration in your festival.  We hope you enjoy our film.”  And be done with it!