By Beanie Barnes
My favorite philosopher wrote that, in order to understand success and analyze what causes it, we need to study the traits present in failure. He pointed out that people who fail do not really write memoirs – generally, publishers do not return their calls nor do readers pay for such stories, even if a story of failure is more valuable than the one of success — just ask the authors of the brilliant book, What I Learned Losing a Million Dollars, which they had to self-publish. This disregard of failure happens a lot in film where we often (and only) celebrate success. That is why it was so amazing that Sundance, at this year’s festival, opened the Pandora’s Box that is “failure.”
While it’s true that the best movies get made because filmmakers somehow find a way to get around the many hurdles of making a film, it’s important to point out that movies that aren’t considered “the best” are made in the exact same manner. We tend to believe that the “best” or “successful” filmmakers necessarily work harder (which they may or may not), which is a slap in the face to every filmmaker who busted his/her ass, only to fall on it.
While hard work and talent are important…so is unforeseen luck. More often than not it takes a chance meeting, a timely concept that connects with audiences, a festival programmer’s taste, a recommendation from Oprah, an influential and supportive mentor, a connection of a family friend (such was Wes Anderson experience), etc. But if that talent, hard work and luck don’t coincide, failure is likely inevitable. This happens a lot in film.
I recently wrote an article for Salon about the economic health of the indie film industry. The article voiced a constructive opinion that the current industry construct is hurting filmmakers more than helping (as Sarah Saolvaara also recently pointed out). Yet, many people misconstrued my words and I was accused of telling filmmakers to “stop making” films. Odd, given in the piece I said, “…considering ways to boost the economic value of the industry shouldn’t be about suppressing voices, nor would it be helpful to approach this issue by blindly limiting the number of films made.”
I’ve been in the industry, in one form or another, for a long time. And, I’m sure my experience is not so dissimilar from many of yours — a passionate artist who has done my best to be successful and to help others do the same. But after a while, I began to see that quest for success differently. I realized that, while there is a lot of talk and effort focused on how to succeed, what’s often missing along this journey is any mention of failure…and how not to fail.
This subtle change in perspective is what I was advocating for in the article. And, ultimately, in film, perspective is what often drives supply and demand. The perspective of “just get it made” leads to thousands of filmmakers simultaneously rushing into production which can weaken film quality, make audience consideration an afterthought, parse audiences, depress the livelihoods of crewmembers, decrease the value of distribution rights, result in theatrical distributors shutting their doors, and lead to a lot of VOD aggregators cheaply capitalizing off the abundance of filmmakers who often find themselves looking for any form of distribution.
I’ve often heard that the whole point of independent film is to not ask for permission – no permission to make a movie or to show it. While I agree with the sentiment, in theory, the reality is every time you ask someone for money, you are asking for their permission. Every time you “submit” to a theater or streaming site, you are asking for their permission. Every time you seek out a crewmember, you are asking for their permission. The point is, film is not made or seen in a vacuum. Filmmakers — unlike painters, novelists and musicians — need other people, which is why economic success is not only vital, but also good.
The “just get it made” perspective has been great for thousands of filmmakers who have proven that they can obtain the resources to get their films made. Unfortunately, the reality is that those resources aren’t robust enough to develop the momentum to get their films seen. And, this leads to a lot of market failure.
My position is not that there are too many (or a “glut” of) films, but that the rate at which films are being made has outpaced the demand to see them…largely because most indies lack the momentum to build demand. And by coming up with ideas to help slow the rate, while not stifling creativity, the filmmaking community would all be better off. For example, rather than spending time and effort on satirical petitions asking filmmakers to stop making bad films, wouldn’t that time/platform/voice be better used on a real petition asking filmmakers to abide by certain standards when it comes to hiring, working with or paying crew?
Changing perspective, and approaching film from a standpoint of how not to fail, will naturally lead to fewer films being made. This is not because filmmakers will stop creating, but because it would change the process — necessitating a focus on artist and story development, resource building and audience connecting rather than on raising money to force a film into the market as soon as possible. This could improve everything from distribution opportunities to audience support to crew relationships (i.e. Philip Seymour Hoffman noted the advantages of developing a script over a period of years with a director).
People shouldn’t fear fewer films being made. And, if your passion is diminished because fewer films are being made — that says more about your passion than it does anything else. While blindly saying “more is better” may feel good, it doesn’t necessarily make it so, given the paradox of choice – when people are presented with too many choices, they often decide to pick what they know or not pick anything at all. And with indies struggling to grow and retain audiences, it would be negligent to ignore this reality because it only fosters mass failure.
Regardless, if the community was more open to learning from failure, the knowledge learned could actually help the industry become more economically successful. For example, some people point to the revenue of released films as examples of which kinds of genres are “working.” Yet, highlighting the genres of what seems to be “succeeding” can actually be rife with errors. It would be more accurate to compare these films with the genres of films that were never released (i.e. While comedies made more revenue than any other genre, what if they also lost more money than any other genre overall?).
So failure can tell us a lot, which is why information on failure is often much more valuable than information on success — because it presents opportunities for improvement. So, why not look more at it? I’ll even take a chance and share my own experience as a first-time distributor.
Ultimately, failure is inescapable in film, but if we can find ways to decrease the rate of failure while increasing the rate of success — all through a simple change in perspective — don’t we owe it to ourselves to try? But, if no one’s even willing to try, or would rather dismiss this all as a flippant joking matter or as an attack on their “dreams,” then Godspeed…and much success.
Beanie Barnes is a strategist and film industry professional. A Project: Involve fellow with Film Independent, a two-time semi-finalist for the Nicholl Fellowship and an annual lecturer at the Ghetto Film School, Beanie distributed her first film, FOUR, in 2013. She holds a B.A. from the University of Nebraska and an M.B.A. from Yale University.
© 2014
