All of my career role models were born in the 60s or the 1920s. Every filmmaker I looked up to when I was in school made their first feature before the advent of America Online. I've always been more interested in old movies that have held up than the films that are being released right now. When I finished school with my degree, this presented a challenge: I didn't know how (or even if) one creates a sustainable film career in the internet age. When I was a kid Netflix mailed DVDs, when I was a teen they were buying movies and shows like crazy, so much so that the animated sci-fi comedy show Rick and Morty has a joke that all of the teenagers at the high school have produced shows because "Netflix let's anyone make a show." Which brings us to present day, where I speak with filmmakers who spend around $50,000 or less (teeny weeny budget, I think SAG calls it Micro Budget) and are still unable to break even with what Netflix offers them. The internet brought a lot of hope that creative people could cut out the middlemen who intercept their money, but with Web 2.0 and the homogenization of where people go for their entertainment, we're back to having corporate gatekeepers.
So making movies doesn't make you rich, go figure. That's not why most of us do it anyways, I hope. I was taught in school that when pitching films to investors you should not give them any promise or indication that they will make a return on their investment because even if it does, and it probably won't, it would come years down the line. Investors should invest because they want your movie to exist. Take note that Francis Ford Coppola, director of The Godfather, Apocalypse Now, and many other amazing films, does not just make movies. Ever heard of Coppola wine? Coppola Hideaways Resorts? If this great filmmaking family doesn't rely on filmmaking for their living, what chance do us mere mortals? So how do we make a living? Enter: the day job. Unless you come from a great deal of money, in which case you aren't reading this blog post, you're investing your family's wealth and making films with the profits.
Many of the artists I know are educators in one way or another. Whether university professors or high school teachers or substitute teachers. The seasonal nature means you have summers free for more involved projects. People who work at higher education institutions also have their years broken up into Fall, Spring, and Summer for more flexibility. How feasible that actually is once you're full-time faculty I do not know but I know it happens. You also avoid a lot of the desperation of the freelance nature of the film industry. When I was post grad scrambling for work, I spent more time in pain and stress than I did working on my creative projects. And the brutal 14-hour days with long commutes would knock me out for two days for every day of work. And I wasn't even doing the art department jobs I wanted to, so what was I gaining? Wisdom I guess. The truth is, the brutal schedules and menial work of filmmaking never goes away, but when you do it for your own projects and your friend's projects, it's much more bearable.
The question remains: how do I make films, which is the most expensive medium second only to solid gold architecture, without the millions of dollars that most films are made with. For that, I recommend scrutinizing your assumptions about motion picture entertainment.
Do you have to make a feature length (90 minutes or more) film to tell your story? Can you make an impression with 30 minutes? 10 minutes? A bunch of 5-minute vinettes?
Is the goal to make money? or be famous? Have an impact on a stranger? Or is it pure expression regardless of external gratification?
If you're looking for local fame, then film festivals are the way to go. That's where people go to watch local films. Often the attendees of local films are the people who made the films and their close friends and family, which isn't a bad thing, getting to see your film on a big screen like that is very empowering and a unique experience I recommend. It's also much cheaper to pay a small entry fee for a festival rather than booking a private screening with a theater. The real end all be all of festival websites is filmfreeway.com by the way, organizers and filmmakers alike appreciate the convinience.
If you take something from this blog post, it's that we're in a new landscape of media and entertainment, and adapting to it can be incredibly freeing. Invent your own storytelling formats, make that travel vlog/scripted family drama 15-minute Youtube video. You don't need to have 2 million dollars to make something that will impact people and make them laugh, cry, or reel back in disgust! I didn't seriously consider this path, as most other paths are way flashier and sometimes appear easier. Focusing your creative energy on nights and weekends with the financial security of a steady job is an option. It's a boring option, but the rewards are sweet.
There are so many tools to make websites but for me, nothing quite can replace manual typing, at least in this stage. All those hours of studying and watching videos don't really sink in for me if I use a template or chatGPT because I'm not internalizing the grammar and process that makes the website actually work.
That's my advice for anyone learning a new skill in the current age: when you're learning, do it inefficiently but thoroughly. The pros get to use the fancy tools because they understand what the new tools replaced.
Welcome to the new phase of Sour Cream Productions and its website! I'm working on a few projects. My main focus is Moon Rocks, a short animation I am writing and directing with my former classmates from University. In addition to that, I have an ongoing special effects study which will culminate in a webseries called Tank Battle League. I'd like to start blogging more on my home page and start growing my fiefdom on the internet.
I'll be updating the blog and website every month at least, mark my words!