Longing To Be Controlled
Artists have a weird relationship with control. On the one hand, it’s all they want—artistic control, autonomy to create what they want however they want. On the other hand they have been conditioned to view everything good that could ever happen to them as only able to happen through relinquishing control—and the more they cede, the wilder the dreams that can come true. I’m not saying all artists struggle with this—some are fierce individualists and always will be. Then, of course, you have those who have never and will never understand the worth of the soul they are eager to give away to the devil handing them the dotted line. But most artists have a foot in both waters—it’s a push and pull they struggle with—and one they should not have to struggle with any longer.
We artists expect to starve, whether we are any good or just plain suck—it just seems like the default lot in life for an artist no matter. In fact, it often seems like we have a better shot of not starving if we suck, because a soul that sucks is an easier soul to let someone take off our hands for us. An artist who has worth and knows it leads a more cautious existence—they will turn down opportunities that a non-artist might see as a winning lottery ticket. We artists resist because we know, for one thing, that some things are too good to be true. We also know that even if the things really are that good, they’re sure as hell not worth losing freedom over.
Money is great—money is liberating, especially in the hands of an artist who just wants to make art. There are plenty of them out there, and it often seems like the industry chooses loose cannons, addicts, idiots, to buy the souls of in order to make it seem like any artist given a fortune will blow it. The reputation a purchased artist then gets is a manufactured one, either by unfair tabloid or by being a mark entering into a rigged circumstance—the house is always supposed to win. The caged birds that evade such a fate seem to be the ones that the industry got wrong somehow, underestimated the savvy of in some way. The artist slave is not supposed to use their wealth to buy their freedom and escape—they’re supposed to be too stupid to realize they can do that.
An escape plan is all well and good, but we should not allow ourselves to be locked up in the first place. It only happens ever because we keep thinking that the only way to get cheese is from a mousetrap. Trapped and fed, or free and starving—that is the conditioning. It doesn’t make sense that an artist could ever have their freedom and eat too—but it is possible. Now more than ever.
No, not through Patreon—fuck that and any other middleman that takes a cut for doing something any artist can set up for themselves (with a webpage and a Stripe account). The espoused principle of Patreon though is correct—micropayments can free artists and keep them fed. The only problem is, audiences are out there using what could be their micropayment money on subscriptions to streaming services.
If you’ve read me for a while, you know that my goal is 12,782 people giving $2 per month to my film studio Kill The Lion Films. That would put me at a quarter of a million dollars a year in funding. $2 is 1/6th of a Netflix subscription fee—that means that 12,782 people, cancelling Netflix, can fund 6 truly independent film studios at $250,000 a year. If a million Netflix subscribers unsubscribed and did that, we’re talking about 78 truly independent film studios funded overnight at $250,000 a year. That would shift the entire landscape of cinema. Independent film would be firmly in the hands of the people, where it should be.
The money is out there—it’s just in the hands of people who don’t realize the power they have and what they could foster with it. It’s my hope to change that, and for you to help me. Spread the word far and wide.
Thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this piece and enjoy my films, consider contributing $2 per month to my film studio, Kill The Lion Films.