On Getting a Bunch of People to Do Something Great Together
Making films is essentially getting a bunch of people to do something great together, and in that sense, I am an expert at that—I’ve made over ten truly independent feature-length films, including four since March 2020, meaning I can do it even when people say it’s logistically impossible. I know how to conceive of a creative project and see it through to fruition against all odds, finding and working well with everyone I need to along the way. That’s a very business-like way to say that I know how to have a good idea for something fun to do, and to get others to join in on that fun.
I have no idea how to do the thing after that, though: getting a ton of people to watch the fun thing I created, which is still fun even though it is complete, its imbibing giving a tasty taste of all the fun that was had making it, on the level of writing it (if it was written) and shooting it, and beyond—not to mention the fun of the story and the storytelling itself. All that to say that I struggle, like many artists, with finding an audience.
On paper, it’s the same exact skillset. In practice, it’s completely different—what it feels like, in essence, is like getting people to come over to your house to admire the leftover mess of an amazing house party you just threw. Even if the art is worthwhile and great, that’s what it feels like. Moviemaking, on the truly independent level I create at, feels to people like ‘well, why should I watch it, if I wasn’t even involved with it?’ They don’t want to hear about how great a party was that they weren’t even invited to. That feeling is not there when it comes to Hollywood stuff, whether tentpole or indie-in-name-only—the assumption is that you’d never be able to hang out with these stars anyway, and so the closest you can get to hanging out with them is to watch what they made. Crazed fans will collect a megastar’s spent beer can—you can be damn sure they’ll watch a crappy movie featuring said star and others.
I’m writing this piece with no solution—I don’t have the answer to how people like I who are so good at persuading others to work on something can beef up their ability to persuade others to watch something. All I can do is bring the phenomenon up and describe it in a way that I’ve never heard before. I do know that it’s a mental hangup—I know that it’s not a real inability, just a phantom one that exists in the minds of artists, clouding their ability to perform, like a psychological impotency rather than a physiological problem. In that sense, it can be cracked—I’m just not sure how to crack it. Which sucks, because I really need to.
I’m currently trying to find patrons for my film studio, Kill The Lion Films. I know, quite literally, that if I can find 12,782 people to contribute at $2 per month (or $24 annually) I will be fully funded to the tune of a quarter million dollars a year, able to live and make any movies I could ever want to make all year long. The numbers are there, and make sense, and the demand is there too—I know how badly right-leaning people in particularly want to stick it to Hollywood, and want a viable and thriving, truly independent, truly American in spirit, filmmaking explosion. You talk to these people and they understand fully how ailing this country is culturally, and when you explain how that can be fixed through strapping a rocket to not just yourself, but the entire burgeoning movement, they get it—but I am having a very hard time finding 12,782 of these people to put their money where their mouth is to the tune of literally just $2 per month.
Track record doesn’t matter—I don’t think anyone actually cares that I am a thought leader on this very specific subject, with a decade-plus filmography to my name. The fact that I am not a drug addict, or a con artist, or anything like that doesn’t matter either—all I want to do in life is make movies and raise a family, and I’m in a stable relationship, and I’m a hardworking and sober individual. Ironically, I think it would be easier for me to make the money if I were a complete and total prick, a grifter like so many pundits across the political spectrum are who have no problem at all finding funding from everyday Americans. Maybe the solution to me and many decent, talented people’s problem lies in something those assholes can do that we can’t. I don’t know what it is that they do, but it’s as good a spot as any to dig.
Perhaps the key to what the grifters are able to do is that it’s ‘fun’—maybe it’s just plain fun to follow a pied piper that you know is kind of full of shit. People go to Las Vegas even though they know the ‘house always wins’. Getting ripped off might carry with it an excitement, or even a feeling of security knowing deep down that it will not ruin you, you will be alright, you will bounce back. I have no desire to traffic in that though—that, for me, would be selling my soul, or at least ignoring it. Grifters might be fine with treating their conscience in a willy-nilly way, but I cannot. What I can do is try and inject more fun into the situation, though—if I can make the $2 per month in some way as fun as working with and being around me is, that might do it. I’m thinking out loud here—or rather, I’m thinking on paper—and I think I might be onto something.
I’ve probably been a bit too academic and stodgy in my pursuit of funding Kill The Lion Films. Appealing to people intellectually isn’t a bad thing by any means, but it’s not necessarily a fun thing—there’s nothing sexy in and of itself about learning, becoming knowledgable. I can and should do more to slut it up, at least in the sense of fun. I should be more like the magnetic person that I am in casting, and pre-production, and on set—a version of myself that is more like the real me than any other. I feel most alive during that time, most like a vessel for my soul and not my mere brain. It’s time for me to put down the chalk, take off my glasses, shake my hair out of its bun, and undo the cleavage-hiding buttons on my shirt—and see what happens when I do.