What's Lee editing now? http://t.co/3WaO0qMI ~ docuguy

Listen to Me

Written by Lee Schneider, founder of DocuCinema

Yadda yadda. Is that what you hear when someone is speaking? Or maybe it’s the trombone in those Charlie Brown specials. You know, when the parents or teachers talk: wah wah wah. If that’s the case, you’d suck as a documentary director.

Listening is an art. Ask any hostage negotiator, professional mediator or marriage counselor. I’ve been in the offices of a few back when Bush was president – not the hostage negotiators, just the marriage counselors. Their advice mostly is to listen to your partner complain until sap runs from your ears and your head catches on fire, and then you have to put out the fire with a cup of cold coffee and listen some more. (Note to self: I remember those marriage counseling sessions did not go so well.)

Still, there is remarkable power in telling your story. Director Heather Ross demonstrates this in her excellent film Girls on the Wall, which screened in Hollywood and will be seen on PBS stations. In the film, Heather interviews some really hard case inmates who happen to be girls. They talk about the robberies and murders they’ve committed. They tell stories of abuse and addiction. But mostly, they heal. This is the most remarkable part of the film: You become a witness to inner change, and that change is initiated by the act of storytelling. The women of the film tell their stories to Heather, and in a theater workshop they are attending in the lock up, and they are transformed into leaders, they get connected to their families, they experience emotions they’ve hitherto locked down tight.

Heather, like many good directors, becomes a catalyst for change, by simply holding listening space for the speaker. There’s a lot that goes into documentary work: stamina, an heroic undaunted strength in the face of challenge. But the biggest production skill just might be listening: You ask questions and you gotta hear what people are saying.

In Jacqueline Novogratz’ book “The Blue Sweater,” she tells the story of returning to Rwanda after the genocide and listening to survivors, sometimes for hours at a time. She witnessed how these survivors were able to move beyond a terrible inner hurt. She writes about how she empowered people just by listening to them.

On the SHELTER blog, the companion piece to a film we’re making about shelter, we’re started featuring interviews with people who are homeless or transitioning from homelessness. We’re also meeting the game-changers who are coming up with ways to address homelessness. As we do these interviews I can endorse Novogratz’ experience. Simply giving people the opportunity to talk empowers them. Why is it enough, then, just to be heard and acknowledged?

Freud figured that one out. At first, hypnosis was his preferred technique, and he soon found out that prone people were liberated from linear thought. Later, he dropped hypnosis, but kept the couch. He had discovered that talking was a powerful agent of change.

There’s a picture of Freud’s couch at the beginning of this post, and it looks pretty comfortable and kind of bohemian. If you want to see people change, and be lucky enough to get them in your film, you want to start with a comfortable couch, at least figuratively speaking. Then all you need to do is ask good questions and listen.

If you enjoyed this post you can subscribe by email or subscribe in an RSS reader. For more information about how to subscribe, please click here.


Fundraising the Honest Way

super8_cam-4834Written by Lee Schneider, founder of DocuCinema.

If you’re making a film you want the biggest budget possible. (“I can’t live without at least one crane shot. I get depressed otherwise. Now get me a latte, tall, with crispy foam.”)

So one morning you wake up, make your own damn latte and start plugging in numbers into a spreadsheet (or an abacus if you’re low budget) and you end up with a budget for a $15 million indie movie. Then you realize you don’t know enough rich dentists to finance that, so you cut the budget so a rich used-car salesman might be able to finance it. Then you realize that the car industry has tanked and your lean budget isn’t roadworthy. Your suspicions are proven right when you pitch the five mil picture to some used-car salesmen and they start asking you for money. The meeting is getting embarrassing, so you excuse yourself and go cut your budget again.

This time maybe you get the film in at $1.2 million. The latte line item has been slashed, along with the fake blood and alas, there are no cranes. You take this budget to a potential investor and make your presentation.

He says, “If I invest in your film, how will I get back my money?”

Since you don’t know the answer, you go with distraction. “Hey, isn’t that pigeon over there wearing a superman outfit?” You’re desperate to buy time, so you say, “You’ll get your money back in six months!” That sounds  good. But it wouldn’t be true. “What I meant to say is you’ll get your money back in three months!” That sounds even better and of course it’s a bigger lie.

Then you come up with the perfect thing to say: “Keep your money in your pocket because the film market has tanked and I have no idea how I’ll pay your money back.”

Your potential investor starts looking a little crabby. You say,”We’ll borrow the money from a bank, if we could find a bank that would loan us money. Maybe if we sever a limb and hand it to the bank officer on a bed of lettuce and promise indentured service. I will also throw in one of my children as collateral.”

The meeting is getting awkward. The investor corrects you. “Banks are not taking children as collateral anymore. New regulations.”

Will banks take pets as collateral? Yes, but only if they were once owned by celebrities.

You can’t go there. Then you realize something. You have a responsibility to make a film that fits the market. This concept was addressed in an All Cities networking meeting I attended and it came up again this morning at a meeting with a smart producer’s rep.

The imparted wisdom is this: Look at the market. Study the films that are like yours. Find out how they were budgeted and how much money they took in. (IMDb and Box Office Mojo work well for this and you can also check out PBS’s Current.org Pipeline listing.) You can see what your film might actually make. You can decide if you’re willing to make it on a budget that could actually return investors’ money. Huh. I believe the term for that is honesty.slate-0331

Here are some of the films I’m looking at in my own research.

(500) Days of Summer. Domestic Gross: $32,391,374

What the #$*! Do We (K)now!? Domestic Gross: $10,941,801

Run Lola Run. Domestic Gross: $7,267,585

If you enjoyed this post you can subscribe by email or subscribe in an RSS reader. For more information about how to subscribe, please click here.