Happy end of the week, friends!
I’m gearing up for a sales screening of Violent Ends, so I’ve been hunkered down working with my buddy Ben Brown over at Zealot on a kick-ass trailer for the film. If you’re in the indie film space and need marketing materials, check out Zealot. They’re amazing.
With that said, here’s a weekend awards edition of Rushes to cap off your week as we all cruise toward the time-honored tradition of vehemently arguing over the meaninglessness of the Oscars. If they’re so meaningless, why are we arguing? Got me.
MAY THE SCHWARTZ BE WITH YOU
I caught a No Film School podcast from the week before last featuring a great episode with man-of-many-talents, Robert Schwartzman.
You may know Robert as the lead singer of Rooney or as Talia Shire’s son and/or Jason Schwartzman’s brother—but all of those things diminish just how integral Robert has been to the indie film scene as of late. If you’re unaware, Robert is the founder of Utopia, a distributor now stepping into the production space with The Last Showgirl, the latest film from Gia Coppola (his cousin), starring Pamela Anderson.
If you’re a filmmaker who wants to hear the buyer’s perspective—one rarely covered at all—this podcast is filled to the brim with good stuff.
CINEMAPOCALYPSE
If you’re not reading Alex Rollins Berg’s Underexposed, get off your butt and do it. He’s a fantastically talented writer who knows his film history and, even better, how to unpack trends in clear and concise ways. Check out his recent piece delving into the state of theatrical exhibition.
Alex and I clearly share the same devout love for sitting in a dark room, pondering larger-than-life images.
Moviegoing is not rational. It’s ritual.
It’s a refuge from a world that seeks to dull and deform our instincts to serve its needs. A movie theater is a dark sanctuary, a place to escape external pressures and feed the inner things… to turn off our damn phones, occupy a multitude of perspectives and, in doing so, better understand our own. Movies invite us to confront life’s deepest questions and find our own answers. At its very best, moviegoing offers us a secular path to the comforts of religious faith.
GOING (FOR) BROKE
You’ve likely had some water-cooler chats about Sean Baker’s Spirit Awards speech (posted below) from last week. If not the speech itself, then certainly something theme-adjacent.
Baker’s speech, along with Brady Corbet’s recent appearance on Marc Maron’s WTF, echoes a prevailing sentiment—being an independent filmmaker is a good way to starve to death. That conversation has been percolating in my friend groups here in L.A. all week.
Both filmmakers claim they made little to no money making Anora and The Brutalist, two of the most heralded indie films of the year. I know this may be hard to believe, given the amount of money spent on P&A for both films—but let me tell you, it’s possible in theory.
Was there a line item for their salaries in the budget? Definitely. Did both filmmakers likely make concessions that lowered their pay considerably in exchange for creative choices they wanted? Almost assuredly. (Looking at you and your VistaVision, Mr. Corbet.)
But this conversation isn’t about what a filmmaker gets paid when they show up to set. The indie film life cycle typically spans 2-5 years. Actual production? Around 25 days. So what about all the other days a director works in that 2-5 years?
Well… we don’t get paid.
When you average out the hours spent on a film, a director usually ends up making less per hour than the price of a hamburger. And that’s likely true for Baker and Corbet, too.
That said, Baker and Corbet have won their lottery tickets. They’re about to cash in on their biggest filmmaking wins to date—no matter what happens at the Oscars tonight.
Still, for the average indie writer/director (like me), you have to diversify to make a living. I built my career as an editor. When I’m not directing, I’m editing and producing for Midnight Road. Not every filmmaker has built their career this way, and honestly—they shouldn’t have to.
We need to figure out a way where it doesn’t cost fifty pounds of flesh just to make a living as the driving force of independent cinema.
OSCAR PICK
Alright, I’ll wrap this up with my Oscar predictions.
First disclaimer — I saw every film nominated for an award this year, outside of the shorts categories. Those are popular guesses.
Second disclaimer — these aren’t the films I would pick if I were an Academy member. By my measure, Nickel Boys is the best film of the year by a wide margin. RaMell Ross is the best director of the year, and he’s not even on the ballot by name — despite being nominated for adapting his own screenplay.
Ironic, considering Ross has said his first draft of Nickel Boys was essentially a series of key images he submitted to the producers.
I could see Conclave winning Best Picture/Editing. It feels like the most Academy movie on the list. I think the “best” Hollywood picture is either Dune: Dos or A Complete Unknown—both very solid studio outings. Dune more like excellent and I’m not even going to rant about how Villeneuve wasn’t nominated. This is me not ranting.
As always, we know with cinema — we know nothing.
Listening/Looking/Reading This Week
Thank you for the kind words, John-Michael. I look forward to reading more Cinesthesia - I'm loving that logo!