5 Best Producing Decisions I've Ever Made

In follow up to my post “6 Worst Producing Decisions I’ve Made” as promised here is my list of the 5 Best Producing Decisions, thanks to some good Twitter friends including media marketing expert Sheri Candler who patiently waited for this follow up post, and writer Anthony from City Cynic who overall has become increasingly supportive (make sure you check them out).

Just as it’s important to take a step back and review where we’ve gone wrong as filmmakers, producers and actors in this business, it is my personal philosophy that it’s just as important for us to reflect on what we’ve done right. You can learn equally from both your mistakes and your accomplishments. When, (not if) you make an error in judgment on a project you know what to watch out for in your next one. Likewise, knowing what worked in the past, at least at a basic level, can inform you of what your strengths are, and you can save some valuable decision making time in the future because you already have proven to yourself and others that those creative and business choices work.

Before jumping into my list, let me preference it by stating that these decisions may not be ground-breaking events on their own, but they sure were parts that led to a greater whole. Also it is first important to give you a reference point from where we began.

When beginning your career as a filmmaker, unless you are born wealthy, chances are you will inevitably need the help of others. For me personally, I had a film in development that had obtained some development money, and we were seeking the rest for production from more investors. Many unforeseen roadblocks popped up, as they always will. My attorney would tell me the heartbreaking news from time to time that an investor we had ready to commit production funds wasn’t an “accredited investor, “and therefore, we had to literally refuse their money (for more info on what the differences between a credited investor and an unaccredited investor are, contact my partner Monica via email). Then other roadblocks presented themselves – investors getting cold feet and backing off, name actors becoming unavailable, and most of all, both the occasional name actor and/or investor unwilling to commit to a “first time filmmaker.” I began to hate that term. I heard it way too much. How are you to no longer be a first time filmmaker, if you don’t get a first-time opportunity?

It was then that I discovered Andrew Bujalski’s Mutual Appreciation, which led me backwards to Funny Ha Ha, which led me to Quiet City, which led me to Hohokam, which somehow led me to Matt Zoller Seitz’s Home, which led me to The Puffy Chair, and on and on. These were all ultra-low, no budget feature films that were making noise in the community. Needless to say the excuses for not making a movie were disappearing, and filmmakers were beginning to make something from nothing at a breakneck pace. After taking what would be my lead actress and my producer/supporting actor to see Hannah Takes the Stairs at the IFC Theater in the village, the decision was made, and we were not going to be denied the privilege to make a feature film anymore.

Now all we needed was help. With a minuscule budget and a few committed actors, we began to look for a DP, a sound man, a gaffer, and a PA or two to help get the job done. It would have helped us as well to have someone on set to help my co-producer Omar Hernandez take care of the logistics of shooting a run-&-gun feature film in the heart of New York City, in addition to Brooklyn, the Bronx, and parts of New Jersey. After that, we would be all set and ready to go.

The only problem is, no one would help. Not even our “friends.” No one cared about how good we felt about the script or actors we had. Years and years of the few solid friendships we had built from prior shorter formed projects would be put to the test. And few, very few of those friends would show up to help us. What made it really hard on us and on me personally, was that most of those friends didn’t even give us the decency of a proper, professional return call to say “no.” We were simply ignored and avoided.

With that set up, let me introduce to you the list of my 5 top producing decisions thus far:

1) Making “Cookies & Cream”: Forging ahead and making our first feature “Cookies & Cream” anyway, remains till this very day, the best producer decision I have made so far. The saying goes, “movement creates more movement.” Such was the case with the production of this film. We somehow barreled ahead while losing a couple of supporting actors, disappearing PAs , and not one, but TWO DPs to get this thing in the can (inexperienced, ego-driven DPs that don’t get along with anyone on your production team will inevitably cost you more problems). Simultaneously the biggest production nightmare, and to date the best decision, the completion of Cookies & Cream in itself was an epic achievement for our cast and crew. After losing the 2nd DP, it became apparent that I had to pick up the camera myself and DP and light for the first time ever (avoid this if you can) although I had never “DPed” before, nor did I know my way around our DVX-100 (a wonderful camera for this venture that our producer Brian Ackley scored for us). That camera got passed around to cast and crew members and we did whatever we had to do to capture the world we created. In the end, making the film anyway proved a lot not only to us, but to others in our community. Two days after we wrapped, a teaser went up on Youtube, and a Myspace page was created. We immediately started hearing positive feedback, and many of those who ignored us before were now congratulating us. We soon met other filmmakers and technicians who were offering to work with us on stuff, paid or unpaid. It’s sort of like a bank who only lends money to people who prove they don’t need it. Our ultra low budget film ended up doing well on the film festival circuit, getting some of the best reviews of our catalog, and landing a distribution deal a year after its world premiere. But beyond that, Cookies & Cream did what every first feature should do. It got us going.

2) The Catalog: This was not by design. It just sort of happened. On the set of our first feature, we learned so many lessons on what NOT to do, that we felt we could do it better a second time, since hindsight is always 20/20. We were able to organize the Uptown shoot in only 5 days, 3 for pickups. We now knew how to shoot a feature on the streets of NYC without going to jail or dying in the process, and Brian, the director, deducted that if he created a story that could be shot using only available light, that it would go a lot smoother, and we wouldn’t need more than 3 or 4 crew members, like before. We soon wrapped the film, and it ended up being my favorite production experience to date. Before you knew it, story ideas were pouring out of the group that was on the set of Uptown - it was just that creative of an environment. An established, producer friend that I really respect told me to simply “keep going.” So we did. But it never was something that was plotted in any way. We were simply making stuff we selfishly wanted to see. And with the budgets we were working on, the risk was very, very minimal - which creatively, of course, is very liberating. One of the things we implemented that I’m most proud of is hiring different post production teams on each movie. More times than not, this worked well and made things considerably easier to organize. None of this would have been possible had it not been for the machine-like efficiency of my partners in crime - people like Monica, Jenny, Cass, Crystal and Brian. When necessary, we form like Voltron and they are often the strength that keeps the robot walking.

3) Choosing Story First: I once met a prolific, accomplished indie director at a film festival who told me that from what he saw, good stories and strong characters were now trumping all else – budget, stars, and perfectly crisp, pristine visuals. How many filmmakers out there can deny hearing all the buzz about that digital, DIY breakthrough (lazily labeled “Mumblecore”) that happened in the middle of the decade and being taken back by the modest production value of some of those works? It was character and story that took over, and audiences at the time craved something a little more intimate - people that resembled and sounded like them, even when those sounds were not always coherent. Maybe it was the burst of reality TV. Or Youtube. Who knows? We began to feel that if the stories were strong enough and the actors were cast and directed properly, that we could communicate with at least a niche audience, if nothing else – no matter how small that niche was. Now as you progress in your work, more people will want to work with you, and you may inevitably have more resources at your disposal to make your films with higher production value – that should always be the goal out here in indie world. Progression doesn’t only refer to story and character, but also to the look and design of your films. But I see filmmakers scratch their heads and wonder why some films get more recognition, when their films “look better” in comparison. The answer is simple. People give a damn about a strong character a lot more than how perfectly that character was photographed. For this first slate of films, this approach, for us at least, has worked wonders.

4) Traditional Distribution: Sorry to betray the fashionably cynical, anti-establishment, anti-corporate tone being maintained by many in the DIY filmmaking movement (including myself), but for at least a couple of our titles, traditional distribution was one of the major keys to our progression as a company (I speak from experience, as one who regularly moves and operates in the world of investors). What’s funny is that this was never our goal starting out. We actually always planned to self-distribute. That was the agreed-upon goal from the beginning, and we decided to use film festivals and reviews to set ourselves up for it. What ended up happening was we began hearing from some distributors during this process; one made us an offer we just couldn’t refuse. Also, that meant we were going to be freed up to work on new projects. My advice to filmmakers is despite what you hear, every distributor is different. There are even still some that offer advances as well, you’d be surprised. But advance or none, all you have to do is think about what you spent to make it and weigh the numbers. A crappy advance for some is a goldmine for others. Furthermore, make sure you follow Jon Reiss’s advice and negotiate the rights to sell DVDs from your own website. That’s a key. We also followed his advice to make a version available for sale during your festival run. So in a way, we merged the best of both worlds. This approach will definitely not be for everyone, it was just right for us. But based on where we are headed as a company, traditional distribution, even limited, was just what the doctor ordered. It helps you build a track record of not only the completion and release of films, but of commerce as well. And you now have an answer when the inevitable, “where can I find it?” question is asked. Now those same weird, demanding money-people take our calls and our meetings. And they actually finally know our names (we have a budding future relationship with another entertainment company that I have seen go from 0 to 60 nearly overnight, since our films were picked up and released).

5) Leaving Network TV: This may be the first time I have discussed this publicly, but another one of the best producing decisions I have made was to leave the already established, hit TV show “Law & Order.” As proof that I haven’t “sold out” and turned into some corporate brown-noser, I am going to air this all out right now.

Why did I leave? You mean besides the horrible pay for us office production staff? Well the six 12 to 14 hour days a week, an hour away from my apartment for the pay was one thing, but I could have easily gotten through that. I love the investment of paying my dues and I’m not afraid of hard work and sacrifice. It was the combination of all of the above, mixed with the tendency of insecure people with a tiny level of power, to overplay the game of hierarchy (in other words, the producers of the show don’t even treat on-set PAs badly – so why do you?). It became a strange environment, that TV world. It was so corny to me to see people trash a producer behind his or her back then quickly attach their lips to their backside once the producer entered the room. The “blame game” was popular in that environment too. I remember once that right after being warned not to give early script revisions to any actors before it was time, “Detective Olivia Benson” herself walked up to me, and while simultaneously trying out her undeniable charm, asked for an early copy to take with her in her limo ride home. As I formed my mouth to tell the lead actress of the show “no,” one of my “trainers” sheepishly handed her a copy. The next day, who do you think got blamed for it? You got it. Yours truly. That was just the way it worked. I remember vowing to myself to not ever be that way to any production staff – from the PA to the production manager. That’s what I took from it. I wanted to help create the opposite climate when I left. And after a while I couldn’t wait to leave.

Of course it wasn’t all bad. It was funny to hear Ice-T reference me when constantly reminding the office that “they finally got a brother up in here!” I learned a ton from the experience besides just the fact that NBC spends thousands of dollars a week to stock the production office fridge with heart-attack-inducing snacks. After multiple failed attempts, one of the executive producers of the show took the time get my name correct. After a while, he couldn’t help but to take it a step further by constantly calling me the ever-so-original “Harvard” or “Yale.” Sometimes, I would go into his office to drop something off and pick his brain. He would tell me things like what his strategy was for churning out multiple episodes in a short time. I of course took mental notes, and imagined what this technique would work like in the world of DIY filmmaking.

I boldly left the show and went out into the not so secure world of “the indie.” With the help of an incredible group of collaborators, some talented directors, editors, sound techs, art designers, entertainment attorneys and those ever so loyal Facebook fans and blog readers, we created some cool little statements before moving onward. I may not be rolling out in special, million dollar car service like Mr. Executive Producer, but ever since this last decision I have slept much better at night.

Thanks for reading.

- Princeton