This was originally part of the subsequent post that will appear shortly. But it turned into be a bit of a tangential rant, though one in which I invested some time and not a little bit of passion. So, here it is a standalone:
When you try to categorize films by who paid for them, the original denotation of the independent vs studio distinction, it becomes readily apparent that these terms now mean something completely different – they represent a look, a feel, a sensibility that have come to connote artistic integrity and authentic expression contrasted against unabashed commercialism and pandering to the lowest common cultural denominator as established by some formula churned out by a program on a mid-level studio marketing flunky’s computer.
The sad irony is that this is also how most so-called “independent” films are now brought to market . How do I know? Because, I’ve witnessed it personally. I’ve sat in the room as studio marketing execs used the blunt instrument of focus group feedback to try to force a deeply complex and challenging film (out of respect, I won’t name the particular film, but you can figure it out pretty easily from my IMDb filmography) into one of their precast marketing plan molds. The result was a film that was targeted to a mainstream audience who were disappointed when it didn’t meet the expectations created by the marketing campaign and which was largely overlooked by the more niche audience that would have appreciated it because they were turned off by the expectations created by the marketing campaign. But at least it made it into the theaters.
Two other films I worked on, “Chrystal” and “Winter Passing,” definitively demonstrated to me the lie of “independent” films. Because unless you actually go to one of the shrinking number of truly independent art house movie theaters or have a penchant for risk with your Netflix queue, every film you see has been brought to you in some part by one of the 6 major studios (Sony, Universal, Paramount, Disney, Warner Brothers, and Fox). And they have universally cultivated a CYA culture among their employees that rewards the safer choice. When you have a film invited to Sundance, the only outcome more disappointing than leaving without a distribution deal is doing so with the complements of all the distributors: “Fantastic film guys, I really loved it; but, it’s just too risky.” As variables in the studio formula, artistic integrity and authentic expression are still second-class citizens.
Which is what brought me to the Internet. Contrary to the best pseudo-scientific efforts of studio marketing departments and their endless focus groups, consumers actually value hearing from people like them (as opposed to some idealized version manufactured in Burbank). If there’s anything that we should learn from the rise of reality television, YouTube, and user-generated content, it is that there is an audience for authenticity (though, no accounting for taste). Now it’s up to us to put them together with the people actually making good stuff.