Episode V: Reality Strikes Back
A long time ago in a city far, far away...
This is the second installment in a two-part series about my experience at a New York film festival when I was only one year out of college. If you missed part one, be sure to read My Big Moment in the Big Apple then come back here.
Okay, ready?
A long time ago in a city far, far away… from Birmingham, Alabama.
V.
I was dressed to the nine’s and ready for my date with filmmaking destiny. On one arm - my supportive wife. Under the other arm - a tube containing a rolled up movie poster for my collegiate senior short film and a stack of press kits. We were on our way to a filmmaker’s market, which would provide me the opportunity to promote my movie, network with other filmmakers, and meet studio executives.
The cab pulled up to the curb at the designated address. We got out and quickly saw that the event was not being hosted in some large trade show event space. It was just a restaurant.
We walked inside and were directed upstairs to one of those large dining rooms that restaurants ordinarily reserve for groups of twenty or more. Hardly the location I would expect to host a prestigious film market with studio execs. Once upstairs, my wife and I were unceremoniously dumped at a small, round table with little more than a “Here you go,” from our host.
As he walked away I could feel my disappointment levels rising, but I pressed forward, setting up my table as best as I could; unrolling my posters, placing them on display, and fanning out the copies of my press kit. My Producer and Co-Writer arrived shortly thereafter and we made the best of it, but hardly anyone came to our table throughout the event. Aside from a couple of other curious filmmakers who were also screening at the festival, there was no interest in us or our film; no studio big-wigs, no job offers, no deals.
But the disappointment I felt that night was nothing compared to what was coming the following night.
VI.
We all arrived early to the location of our film screening so we could set up our posters and spread out our press kits. But we weren’t in a theater. The festival had set up our venue on the second floor of some available loft space with two sections of hard wooden chairs facing a small pop-up screen.
There was no step and repeat.
No photo op.
No media interviews.
Hardly glamorous.
“That’s okay,” I thought to myself, “Just wait until people see my film.”
And so we waited for the crowd to show up. And waited. And waited. I can honestly say that yes, people did see it.
Two people.
Well, three if you count the festival volunteer who introduced the film. There wasn’t even a Q&A afterwards.
It was crushing. And embarrassing. But I learned some lessons from the experience. Big lessons.
All film festivals aren’t created equal. If all you want is a collection of laurels to make your film’s poster look more impressive, there are plenty of festivals out there more than happy to take your money.* And the money is all that some festivals care about. They don’t bother themselves too much with providing the best experience possible for the filmmaker.
You as a filmmaker have a responsibility too; not just the festival. You have to prepare ahead of time. Find out what other films are there. Read up on other filmmakers who may be in attendance. Who might be a good person to connect with. You have to do the leg work. You have to attend screenings, panels, networking events. You have to work the room. Throw yourself into conversations. Shake hands. Talk about your own work. Ask about theirs. Go to the after parties. Me? I went to one networking event and one screening - my own. The rest of my time was spent touring the city.
This isn’t Field of Dreams. If you make it, people won’t come (unless your name is Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, or Christopher Nolan). Filmmaking is too competitive. The market is too saturated. You have to learn how to promote and market your film. Give people a reason why they should care about your work. Now, looking back on this experience over twenty years later, it was absolutely ridiculous of me to think that in a city like New York, people would A) discover my film, and B) choose to take the time to see it, when there are thousands of other things they could have been doing.
The real-world definitely smacked me in the face while in New York and my youthful naivety was shattered. I limped home, disappointed in the festival experience, but thankful I had the chance to take the trip and see the city. And I was definitely better prepared for the next film festival and all subsequent festivals.
And a big shout-out to those two people who saw my collegiate film that weekend in New York. Thanks for coming.
*In retrospect, I should have seen the red flags that popped up prior to this particular festival. After my acceptance, I continued to receive communications from the festival organizers, asking for more money. Those fees were supposed to go toward all sorts of different services, from professional feedback on my film to inclusion in some kind of film directory. I was also told that if I spent even more money, I could gain access to important Hollywood execs. It was definitely a hard sell and I should have seen it coming, but all my youthful, innocent eyes saw was “NEW YORK FILM FESTIVAL” in bright, flashing lights.