Tell Your Friends!

As we come up on screenings, I can see the writing on the wall. This year will be no different than any other. A few filmmakers will drop by the blog to read about the submissions.

If they read about something I say is bad, they'll think I'm talking about their film and maybe post a nasty comment.

If they read about something I say is good, they'll think I'm talking about their film and post questions about premiere status and should they book their tickets to LA now, or wait until later? (Definitely wait).

After reading a post or two, they won't come back... until April.

The closer we get to announcing what films are in the festival, the more my numbers spike.

And that's fine. I get that. You're excited about your film, as well you should be – but by then, most of what I write about is of little use to the film you've already submitted.

I write about the trends we're seeing in submissions. Mostly the bad ones. If you're thinking about making a movie to submit to festivals, then you'll want to read my blog BEFORE YOU WRITE YOUR SCRIPT. Find out what screeners are tired of seeing because every other filmmaker thought it was a cool idea. It probably was a cool idea when whoever did it first did it two years ago. Now, not so much.

Of course, I understand if you've already submitted that you're looking for any hint about how your movie is doing. I got the idea for this blog from a literary agent (that means books everywhere on the planet but Hollywood) who published her thoughts on query submissions without revealing any details about the work. I recognized her comments on my letter and made changes accordingly, and it helped.

Hopefully, you'll find the same kind of help as we move forward, but please – for our sake – tell your fellow filmmakers who are facing the blank page to read this blog NOW, not after they've spent tons of money and time on something no one wants to see.

Thanks for reading.

So You Didn't Get Into Sundance - Merry Christmas!

Dances With Films is open for submissions!

My regular readers know that I don't blow the company horn here... much. This post is an exception. Of course, you still need to develop your own strategy for festivals, but DWF should certainly be on your world premiere check list.

 Festival in a major market (New York, Los Angeles or Chicago)

 Good press coverage – any festival that promises coverage in the trades is probably lying – unless that paper is a major sponsor. Every year The Hollywood Reporter and Variety say they don't cover festivals, and every year we get some films reviewed. Knock wood. That's not to mention coverage in:

Los Angeles Times • The New York Times • E! Online • Ain't It Cool News • CNN • Associated Press • Extra • Film & Video Magazine • Film Threat • Starz! • LA Times • Entertainment Today • USA Today • IndieWIRE • KABC • KCRW • US • Weekly • 60 Minutes • IndieWire • TheWrap.com • Angeleno Magazine • Moviemaker Magazine

 Good track record. What can I say? DWF is heading into year 15.

 Good to filmmakers. Ask any of our alumni. Go ahead. Ask.

Hopefully, you still have your world premiere status. That's a huge help. Once you've premiered in the major markets, then you can build your pedigree in the destination festivals around the world.

We look forward to seeing your movies. Keep an eye out here beginning late January for my insight on what we're seeing in submissions. If your movie is good, you might recognize my comments. When I mention problems, it is always something we're seeing in more than one submission, so don't take it too hard.

Good luck.

Life in a Mafia

No, this isn't a crime story. In theatre and film a mafia refers to a group of artists with a common background that often work together. These groups can be centered around universities, like the Yale Mafia (Meryl Streep, Wendy Wasserstein, Sigourney Weaver, etc.), the Julliard Mafia (Robin Williams, Kevin Kline, William Hurt, etc.). They also form from writers or theatre groups, such as the (David) Mamet Mafia (Joe Mantegna, William H. Macy, Stuart Gordon, etc.), Steppenwolf alumni (Gary Sinise, Joan Allen, Glenne Headly, etc.).

I got to thinking about art mafia groups again while at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts West Coast Alumni Christmas party. For some reason, NCSA (or, now UNCSA) has never formed a strong mafia. It's something we often discuss, but no one is sure what to do about. Like so many who attended, I didn't graduate from there, but went on to Virginia Commonwealth University – another school with a weak mafia.

So what makes a strong one?

I think it requires a good mix of disciplines: writers, actors, directors, cinematographers and especially business people. A group that doesn't have a good mix is going to have a hard time putting projects together and getting them before an audience. Loyalty is important, but each member also has to look out for themselves. Many mafias claim people who "made it" outside of the group, which is fine. These stars can come back to their friends to launch projects in a familiar atmosphere.

Making do with less, or a certain level of discomfort, is an element. I fell into the Mamet Mafia in Los Angeles when I worked on the stage production of Edmond that years later became the film. It was amazing to watch actors with Broadway credits I'd kill for climbing ladders, sweeping the stage, taking tickets, etc. We formed a theatre group that lasted for about 10 years. Those who were willing to do the dirty work became trusted friends and co-workers. Those who didn't, didn't. From there, I was able to build an ensemble that got my film made.

Dances With Films has started to form a bit of a mafia. Mojave Phone Booth got started in the lobby of the festival, and yesterday, I got an e-mail from DWF alumni who have just gotten funding together for their next movie. They want me to play a role, which I'm always happy to do. The 2-Minute 2-Step, which is an exercise in less-is-more production, has put together teams that I hear have gone on to work together on other projects.

And it's not just filmmakers. The internet has helped novelists get together. As I write this, I've been exchanging e-mails with one of my partners on From The Write Angle. She has been kind enough to do a beta read on my next book. We got together on the net forum, Agent Query Connect.

Which brings me to another topic.

Without A Box, the submission service for filmmakers, has moved its forum to Facebook. That's fine, but I tend to get lost on Facebook. I miss the close connection a stand-alone, topic-specific forum can bring. So I've dedicated a page on this blog called QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. This is a place for all of us to use as a forum. Please feel free to post in the comments section just as you would in a forum.

Who knows, maybe we'll get our own mafia started.

What about you? What groups did I miss? Have you gotten a project together from your experience with DWF? Would you like to?

Things are revving up.

Just a quick note to let you all know that the Dances With Films team got together for a meeting about year – holy crap! – 15.

I call these early meetings what-you-should-do's. In most any theatre group, or producing organization that deals with volunteers, there are tons of people who chime in with ideas, but damned few who roll up their sleeves and do the work. Worse still, are people who say they'll do the work, but don't.

But our circle of movers and shakers came without a what-you-should-do attitude. Instead, it was all what-WE-should-do. Brainstorming ideas were backed up by people taking the lead on actions.

Success is an interesting part of the entertainment industry. It can be as damning as it is wonderful. Over our fifteen years, we've seen fests come and go. Many of them had some measure of success, but then grew too fast. They got beyond their means.

We have always tried to make sure each expansion would be built on a strong foundation. Sure, every year that we add something new becomes an adventure in troubleshooting and problem solving – from the first 2Minute 2Step to last year's new Industry Choice Awards and panels. But with each successive year, the problems iron out, and what was once new becomes tradition.

At this past meeting we talked about what traditions will start with year 15.

While I have you - if you're thinking of submitting for year 15, you still have plenty of time to finish - and I mean, truly finish - your film.  Please, take a look at my past blogs to see what mistakes those who came before you made, so that you might avoid them and we won't have to watch them over and over again!

To get you started, check out The Best of the Blogs.

Thanks for reading.

Film, Football, and Finance

It's inevitable. Potential film investors will at some point come by a set to see what moviemaking is all about. Of course, they don't show up the night before, when trucks are squeezing into place. They don't show up first thing in the morning when equipment is being staged, actors rehearsed, cable run, generators started, lights focused, sets dressed, props prepared, wardrobe, hair and makeup being done. Nope. They show up just before lunch, when the director is working on the last setup and trying to get the shot before going into grace.

And what do these visitors see? A lot of people sitting around doing nothing.

"What are all these people here for?" they ask. I actually had a director ask that question once, but he was reportedly on ecstasy at the time and couldn't figure out what shot he wanted.

The question reaches beyond films sets these days. Our world has become so overrun with MBA's, who are taught that cutting costs is equivalent to increasing revenue, that politicians and corporate execs are asking it, too.  And potentially screwing up as badly as the director on ecstasy.

I faced the question once by someone who knew nothing about film. Instead of trying to explain it in movie terms, I talked sports.

"Imagine if a business person who had never seen an NFL football game was suddenly in charge of a team. 'Why do we have two kickers?' this person asks."

'Well, one is for field goals, the other is a punter.'

'But that's all kicking, right? Why can't we run that department with just one of them? A field goal, that's just 3-points, right?  And we have more players on the sidelines than we do on the field. Why is that?'"

The film observer got the point, and to drive it home, I told him to watch what happens when they turn the world. (That's turning the camera around to look the other way, for you folks that don't know). I've had a chance to work with some of the best crews this business has to offer. I think you could sell tickets to watch them work.

Of course, that's the major leagues. Just like sports, if you're playing in the minors you make do with what you've got. Indie filmmakers achieve the same thing with less people, but it takes more time – and they don't have a multi-million dollar star with a 12 hour door-to-door contract waiting to work.

So if a film finance person, politician, or corporate executive asks, "can't we do that for less?" the answer may be, "Yes, but it'll cost you more."

Thanks for reading.

The Perfect Martini

As some of you may know, I also blog with a group of novelists and non-fiction authors on a site called From The Write Angle. I think my recent post there might be of some use to filmmakers here, so I'm re-posting it. Any reports that I'm doing this because it's our off season, so technically my vacation, and that I'm too lazy to write a new article, are are absolutely true.

So enjoy, THE PERFECT MARTINI: THE FINAL STEP IN TRAINING.

In a previous post, I wrote about an acting rehearsal that changed my approach to life, the arts, and everything, but I only told half the story in that article. Here's the most important part.

My acting partner and I had found what was missing from the Kent/Oswald scene in King Lear by getting back to the basics. Having done that, we worked on our monologues and sonnets. I had been having trouble with the sonnet:

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their bodies' force,
Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill,
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;
And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:
But these particulars are not my measure;
All these I better in one general best.
Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
Of more delight than hawks or horses be;
And having thee, of all men's pride I boast:
Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take
All this away and me most wretched make.

The problem was it sounded like a monologue. I talked with my acting partner about it, ending my diatribe with, "I've been talking for more than a few minutes, but why is it that – if I wrote down, word-for-word, what I just said, and repeated it, it wouldn't sound like what I just said?"

In other words, why did acting sound like acting and not real life?

So I continued to talk about the sonnet, then without notice, changed from my words to Shakespeare's. The transition was so seamless that when I was done, my scene partner's eyes were wide with excitement. "Let me try! Let me try," he said.

He did, and it was much better than he'd ever done before, but it wasn't quite perfect.

We worked on this new approach until we had a method for getting rid of everything we'd ever learned. We let every acting lesson we'd ever had slide off of us. We didn't start our monologues until we'd forgotten we were acting – and forgotten we'd forgotten we were acting.

The next week, after we'd nailed piece-after-piece in our semester finals, our teacher looked at me and said, "if you can bottle that, you'll make a fortune."

I'm still waiting for the fortune.

What we had done was take the final step in training—any sort of training.

Today, when I'm asked to speak about acting, I show up with the makings of the perfect martini. I put ice in the glass and pour in vermouth until someone tells me that's too much—which can really backfire if you're teaching kids. I then cover the ice, pour off the vermouth, making a show of how hard I shake out every last drop. Then I add gin or vodka, shake, and pour the perfect martini.

I enjoy a sip while explaining that the tiny amount of vermouth that clings to the ice is the perfect measurement for a dry martini. You have to put in too much in order to reduce it down to the right amount.

Then I turn the bottles around. Vermouth is labeled TRAINING. The gin or vodka is TALENT.

An artist, or a Navy SEAL, or an athlete, must immerse themselves in training. They have to learn everything there is to learn about their specialty—not just in their head, but in their body. They have to become so trained that a reflexive twitch of the knee is a textbook example of movement in their discipline.

That's the first step. At this level, many people think they are done—and most of the world would agree with them. A great number of successful artists work at this level. Plenty of soldiers serve our nation well by relying solely on their training, and locker rooms are full of athletes who play the game exactly as it is meant to be played.

But there is another level beyond the training. There is greatness. There is the perfect martini.

You don't get there on training alone.

You don't get there on talent alone.

It's a three step process. Learn it. Forget it. Do it.

And, yeah. The olives are the balls—which apply to either gender.

Thanks for reading.

Best of The Blogs

Every year that I've done this blog, I see a big spike in readers around the time we're announcing our lineup for that year's festival. During the off season (like now) my readership drops. Of course, I understand this. It's human nature. That, and I don't write as much during the off season.

But folks, once you've submitted your film, it's too late to apply any knowledge you might gain from this blog. The idea is that those of you facing the blank page, or just starting production, or just beginning to think about your festival submission strategy, might learn from the mistakes of others.

Now is the time to be reading, not when you're eager to find out if you've been selected or not.

To help you get started, I've compiled a list of the best of Dances With Blogs. I hope these posts will help you on your journey from concept to completion. I also hope they will help you make a better movie, because we sure get tired of seeing the bad ones.

In honor of upcoming year 15, here are, in no particular order, the 15 best posts from the past two years.

Think Positive
The important thing to note in this post is the importance of your world premiere status. Be advised, Dances With Films takes this seriously. If you get into Sundance, Toronto, or the like, fine take it. If not, DWF should be on the top of your list. We will work with filmmakers by contacting you early if you're under consideration, so keep that in mind as well. Year 15 we're going to be tougher on this than ever, so spread the word, and plan accordingly.

No News is Bad Advertising
This is another good blog to read as you're considering your submission strategy.

Artistic Cross Training
This is a theme running through all my work, here and on From The Write Angle.

Voice
Possibly the most important aspect of any of the arts.

Louder, Faster, Funnier
Tips from the stage.

Top Ten Story Lines
Trends we're seeing too much of.

The 180 Degree Rule – One of my favorites

Great Isn't Good Enough

Three Cheers For Romance

Art and Business

One Lousy Point

The Never-Ending Need For Independence

Rules of Criticism

One Worked, One Didn't

Post Production Stress Syndrome

That's it. Please tell your friends to check this stuff out now while we can still help them.

Thanks for reading.