When Independent Film Actually Began
When did independent film actually begin? The dividing line isn’t clearly drawn, isn’t written in stone—ask a film historian (aka someone who isn’t an active participant in the art of filmmaking) and they’ll just rattle off instances of independent film throughout history, never actually answering the question, never actually giving an opinion or going out on a limb. So, being that I know more than the average bear who doesn’t even live in the woods (me being a bear who actually DOES live in the woods, actually DOES make independent films) I’ll use my expertise in order to come to an actual answer for you here, and I will outline my logic every step of the way.
By the way, I don’t know how many people other than me actually even care about finding or developing a clear cut answer to this question. That doesn’t make me necessarily feel lonely though—there are plenty of fields of study that are only moved forward through the dogged determination of lone individuals. We solve the mystery, or we present the best possible evidence, and then it spreads like wildfire—the collective consciousness receiving a much needed and long overdue system update. People all over do not benefit from the murkiness of any particular situation, so, it’s important work—and so, here we go.
First, we must consider the conditions necessary for independent film to even exist. Access to equipment is a major factor—if you can’t touch the stuff, how can you even use it? But, it can’t be mere access—for instance, someone absconding with equipment that they can’t afford, and using it, doesn’t mean that said equipment is ‘in the hands of the people’. If anything, it only underscores the haves-and-have-nots-ness of the situation. A few lucky, normal, powerless human beings getting to do what they are not allowed to do does not a movement, or a revolution, make.
By the way, I also want to point out that in our search for a pinpointable moment when independent film began, vague recollections of indie booms, or of singular independent examples, without any proper scrutinization or analysis, does no one any favors. ‘Clerks was shot for $27,000!’ someone might exclaim, as a factoid. ‘Primer was shot for $7,000!’. ‘Pather Panchali was shot for $3,000!’. Sure—but all of these were shot on film. A beautiful medium, film is, but not a democratized one, except when it comes to still photography. Film has never, and will never be, the moviemaking technology of the people. People used to go to film school just at the mere hope of touching film equipment. Imagine if people had to become English majors just so that they could touch pen and paper. I rest my case.
What about video tape? Surely that’s democratized technology, surely that is ‘of the people’, you might say. It is—but it falls within the category of novelty. It’s cheap, sure, but it looks cheap. The best films shot on tape have had to embrace that method of capture almost as a character in and of itself, in order to be taken seriously—the look must be woven into the story in some way. This can be done in a quite literal manner, such as in the case of found footage films, but it can also be a vibrational thing, such as Dogme films that are family dramas, with tape feeling right for it simply because families have historically been seen through the lens of home videos. So, sure, there’s a certain degree of freedom with tape, but there being a limit on the kind of stories you can tell successfully (that is, immersively) shoots it in the foot. Hollywood will never, and has never, shaken in its boots over movies shot on tape.
Only with the advent of digital filmmaking did Hollywood even start to get nervous. But, Hollywood has benefitted from digital just as much as the people have—costs were cut for us, but they were also cut for them as well. On top of that, they could afford the more expensive, and blatantly better, digital cameras, whereas we could only afford the cheaper, crappier ones—the glorified home video camcorders. There are incredible films shot cheaply on early digital video, don’t get me wrong—but, you put them side by side with Hollywood digital, and it’s clear who made what.
What if you could put them side by side and not know who made what though? Hell, that’s the standard that people have for real art vs. AI, real footage vs. deep fake, etcetera—so, that would be something. That would indicate a playing field having been leveled such that ‘independent film’ could be seen as finally having actually, literally begun. So, how about it? A movie genuinely made by a sole individual, with highly inexpensive consumer grade equipment, next to a studio film. It’d have to be a simple scene though—not some huge action sequence with explosions and inordinately high-cost production values. Let’s say it’s a scene then of two people having a conversation on a bench. Well, if that’s the benchmark, then we’re here. We’ve arrived.
Now, obviously if one bench has Robert Downey Jr. on it, and the other one doesn’t, then it’s clear who made which, a studio or an individual. But, other than that, if we’re focusing solely on equipment, and proper use of it, you wouldn’t know the difference. A Hollywood film, and an indie-in-name-only film, and a no budget film, can all look exactly the same. How is this possible, you might ask? Well, I’ll tell you—and I’m in a unique position to tell you, because that ‘how’ is a very important part of my life.
This milestone, this singularity, was achieved through what is known as the DSLR revolution, a much not-known-about revolution which began in 2010. That’s the year that an interchangeable lens camera body was released, with a free lens included, all for less than $1000, and it could record 1080p, 24 frames-per-second video. I’m talking specifically about the Canon T2i, the people’s cousin to the Canon 5D, which is usually pointed to as the game changer DSLR camera, but which cost more than three times as much as the T2i, and that’s not even including a lens, so it was very much not for the people.
All that the DSLR revolution brought as far as making independent filmmaking now truly possible, has still yet to be fully taken advantage of, though—mostly because people don’t realize just how seismic all this was. But I, as a camera nerd, realized it at the time—and it immediately led to me making my first feature-length film, Shredder, that same year, 2010, on a Canon T2i. When you look back at my black and white footage—black and white as a choice I made partially because the grain looked more like 16mm film grain to me when in black and white—you feel like you’re looking at any number of first films from indie filmmakers throughout history that were shot on black and white 16mm. Combine that with the fact that the T2i records to an SD card, and that means you can just dump footage and reuse the card as much as you want, which means suddenly you have essentially 16mm filmmaking without having to buy any film stock at all. This was 1980s and early 90s indie film boom in a can. This was the ability to shoot Clerks for 1/10th the cost—but then also shoot any number of films you want after that without spending anything more, as a camera doesn’t turn back into a pumpkin after you shoot a film on it. The DSLR revolution didn’t just make you a filmmaker—you were something beyond that: you were a film studio, all by yourself. The price of admission being just buying a camera, and a portable audio recorder (at that time, the Zoom h4n) and maybe a microphone, plus a couple SD cards. To date, I have made more than two dozen feature-length films and I have yet to spend nearly as much as Kevin Smith spent just to shoot Clerks. (I think my total spent so far is about $18,000, to his $27,000.) All this to say, from 2010 onward, a true independent film revolution was in fact possible—at least in theory. In practice, the populace has been far too distracted with expressing themselves in other, content-oriented ways to even start to realize what they could be doing instead.
A lot of the early experiments in DSLR usage were focused on how to look best in your room looking at a camera. Webcams were really bad, and vlog content was starting to take off, and so people were desperate for an improvement there. So, instead of a Canon T2i being seen as a godsend for would-be filmmakers, it was seen as a godsend for content creators—and then, was quickly replaced as the camera du jour by subsequent cameras more geared towards the needs of that content niche. Fast forward to today, and the vast majority of DSLR cameras, and now mirrorless cameras, have all sort of bells and whistles that only really matter if you’re trying to make high-quality, but ultimately ephemeral, content, and which will go largely unused if you’re making lasting film art.
As it stands now, you can buy a T2i used for about $150, or any number of better DSLRs for a tiny bit more. You can get a used Zoom h4n for about $50. You can essentially go back to 2010 for a song, and start that revolution over again proper—or, you can pay as much as I did back then, and get a brand new camera, and be able to do 4K, and have an improved dynamic range, and a better sensor, etcetera. The question is, then, why aren’t people doing so?
Well, because people don’t know how lucky they are, is the answer. It’s all still too new—if you are a 14-year-old, independent film has only started within your lifetime. Everything before 2010 was mere prologue, mere inklings, mere toes in the water—independent film as an idea rather than as an actuality. Each year, all the best film festivals these days should be shoved to the rafters full of great, truly independent films made extraordinarily cheaply—but, they aren’t. These places are still only for the privileged, the rich, the famous, the well-connected. The only place to go to see the great film work being done for peanuts is YouTube, and sometime Tubi and other streamers—but, no established outlets are going to tell you about these works. Gil Scott-Heron was right when he said “the revolution will not be televised”, but it doesn’t stop there—if you are really, truly a part of a revolution, then it will be total blackout on you in all aspects of society. Only the people’s word of mouth is uncontrollable—and so, it becomes your life’s blood. Every bit of success that I have as a filmmaker has come from people enjoying my working and taking the time to spread the word. In every other aspect of society, I am a pariah as an artist, simply for making the kind of films that I make—not that they’re pornography or evil anything, just that they’re truly independent!
In conclusion, I’m sure a lot of people will disregard what I have to say here, and say that independent film started way earlier than 2010, and has been going on since the dawn of motion picture technology. But, I would dare them to point to any actual evidence of revolutions having taken place—because that’s what there would be, if it had ever actually happened prior to now. Find me independent filmmakers being treated by ostensibly independent film loving and heralding outlets as dismissively as me and my contemporaries are treated. The worst that ever happened to Cassavetes is that some people called his movies ‘home movies’. But, you could still see them, and some people like them. Me and my movies? Living ghosts roaming the earth, that only people with the proper ESP can even sense or encounter. So, fuck you, but I’m right—independent filmmaking began in 2010. And buckle your seats, because this century will belong to us eventually, once the word gets out enough. The meek shall inherit the earth.
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