Tag Archives: patience

Live and Learn

I only have to hold my breath for another sixty days. Not for funding, but to have the agreement with Producer 2 expire.

While a year-long agreement is standard, I will never enter into another one again. Six months with an option to renew for another six sounds good enough to me. I will also enter into the agreement on the day the person calls to say they want to do the project, not six months after. And, if I do sign any time after day one, I will back date the agreement to that time. Details. They are important, especially when you are talking time. Because, if I had done that, we would’ve been out of the contract back in August.

I will also not enter an agreement that doesn’t come with an escape hatch. By that I mean I should be able to fire you if you are lazy, incompetent, uncommunicative, misleading, useless, ineffective, unprofessional, or cause harm to the project. Now, having said all that, I am not at all implying that Producer 2 is or did any or all of those things. I’m just saying that I didn’t have a clause that gave me the power to terminate the agreement if the work someone was hired to do was not getting done.

I should also mention that I did have not one but two attorneys look over that agreement. They said it looked standard and my rights were protected. I was so in love with the BC team, I never asked the “what if” questions. I never thought about terminating someone if things didn’t go as planned because I never thought that would happen. I never thought that something as simple as a budget would get in our way. I guess you could say I just wasn’t thinking.

However, I would have thought that someone would ask for help with the budget if it became a problem, and that someone wouldn’t tell me everything was fine when I asked how the budget was going, especially if things weren’t fine and the budget wasn’t going. Optimism can blind you…and then turn around and bite you in the backside.

I was told that “these things take time” when I asked what was taking so long. And, because I’m typically a bull in a china shop with no patience, and have come to understand that no one will ever live up to my time lines, I tried to be zen about it. But, come on. I know how long a budget takes to complete, because I’ve done them…okay, that was back in film school, but I have done them. And, I do believe there is software for that now, right? And that it actually links up with FinalDraft to create the budget, correct? Not that it doesn’t take additional skill and knowledge to finesse the budget, but I think you get what I’m saying…no independent-low-budget-talking-heads-movie budget should take longer than two weeks to do. Seriously. I’ve asked around.

I should probably mention that my agent also reps “below the line”, which everyone involved was well aware. So, part of my ire is related to the fact that one phone call would have remedied any situation we were having with the budget. One little call. But all I was told was that things were fine and these things take time.

Can you tell I don’t like being placated?

Eventually, someone else had to come in and finish the budget and schedule. By that time, we lost our Director to another job…well, only temporarily. He get him back at the end of the month. And, thank God he’s loyal to the project because he is the perfect person to helm BC. To think it was a year ago he read the script. We can’t believe it’s been that long. I hate to think of an entire year wasted. But, sometimes, that’s just how it goes.

Perhaps 2009 wasn’t a complete loss, considering all that I’ve learned, especially in the last ten months. One thing I want to stress is that this isn’t personal. I understand that things happen and people make mistakes. (Hello? Who signed an agreement she wasn’t happy with?) The important thing is to take the lesson you are served and move forward with additional wisdom. Or, at least you can learn from my missteps. I’m thrilled that BC still has our fabulous D and the great P1, who is magic and dipped in gold…and has had to suffer the brunt of my frustrations, sometimes at volume 11. Poor, P1. What a saint. And now that 2009 and Hollywood comes to a close, I look forward to a fresh start in 2010…sometime around the third week in February.

And So…

It’s not like there’s nothing happening. There is. But this Coffee is turning into something more like a stew. Something you let simmer for ages and stir on occasion so it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pot.

Producer 1 is stirring up what he can. If anyone should be up for sainthood, it’s him. Blood from a stone? This cat could find it, get it and package it. It’s all just a matter of time. But, time is something I’ve had my fill of. I want action. Specifically, the Director to call, “Action!” Wouldn’t that be nice? So much more melodic than the cricket chirping I’ve been enduring.

Monday marked the original date we had/hoped to start shooting. Back in February, I believed we could reach that goal. Unfortunately, I can’t turn back time and take over where someone else left off. Lesson learned. Film school really begins once the deal wheels start turning. And, when all is said and done, I will share openly all the lessons I’ve learned from this.

And so, we take meetings, stir interest and hope. This is how every movie begins, I’m told. In spite of the obstacles we’ve come upon, I’m expecting this to end happily.

F***ing Hell

It should come as no surprise that funding is the most difficult, challenging, frustrating, make-you-cry aspect of independent filmmaking. Well, it should be no surprise to anyone but me.

Call me crazy — or overly optimistic — but when I finished the last revision of the script (on February 18th), I didn’t think it would take so long to get a budget, schedule and day-out-of-days done. I didn’t think anyone would diddle daddle over it. See, I don’t diddle daddle, so it doesn’t occur to me that other people will. Especially when people are piecing together an independent film. Just like there’s no crying in baseball, there’s no room in independent filmmaking for any diddle daddling whatsoever. But, there seems to have been a hell of a lot of diddle daddling going on somewhere by someone.

It’s not like I didn’t follow up. Regularly. When I sent out the “Hey. How’s everything going?” emails and got back, “Everything’s great. How are you?” replies, I just thought I was being wickedly impatient (which is sort of my baseline). I actually thought progress was being made. I thought wrong. I don’t have the full explanation of what took so bloody long, mainly because I’m still too peeved to sit down and have a rational conversation about it (that’s what next week’s for). But I have learned a valuable lesson. I need to send a translation along with my emails. When I asked, “Hey. How’s everything going?” what I meant was, “What the hell is going on? Send me a progress report. What is taking so effing long?!?”

The ugly fact of Hollywood (be it studio-fied or independent) is that the writer is the low man (woman, child) on the totem pole. I’m not being a whiny writer about this. I witnessed the shift in the room once I pressed ‘Save’ and ‘Send’ on that final draft. (I did those last revisions in the room with the director and both producers and was later told, “I’ve never seen that happen before.” Whatever. The point is, *that’s* how inclusive I made the revision process.) Once my laptop was closed, they started talking about who they would call in to do the budget and DOOD. The conversation swirled. Everyone had something to say. But, it was like I was no longer in the room. That’s not ego talking. It was just a bizarre turn of atmosphere. Whatever. I let them run with it. My work was done, right?

Like I have said many times before, we are a groovy little quartet, the director, two producers and myself. I adore these people and trust them. However, it has been mentioned, more than once, that I am the writer, and the writer usually isn’t in on that call/meeting/lunch/dinner/what-have-you. But, here’s the rub. I’ve not yet been paid as the writer. I, like everyone else, have been working for free on this project. So, what I am — in addition to being the writer/birth mother of the project — is the owner of the rights. And, with that, I should be included on the call, in the meeting (but I’m happy to skip the schmoozing lunches, dinners and what-have-yous).

Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t an ego rant or temper tantrum. This isn’t even a rearranging of the totem pole. It takes a team, and a dedicated one at that, to get something like this off the ground. None of this would have happened without Producer 1. Without Producer 2, we would not have the best Director for the film. I couldn’t be more excited to hand him this baby. But, I’m not just “the writer”. Perhaps I need to remind myself of this as much as I do them.

So, after ten weeks of hearing, “Everything’s great. How are you?”, we finally sent out the budget to the funders, who had to wait an additional week for a second budget (don’t ask). And now we have crickets chirping again. You can’t imagine the level of displeasure this brings me. I opted to share it with one of the producers and my agent, just so were were all on the same page. I’m what you would call a “communicator” that way.

Granted, raising money in Hollywood is always hard. We get the additional kick by attempting to do this in the greatest recession since the Depression. Good times. This puts us firmly in Funding Hell. It’s something akin to Death Valley. Only not as scenic.

Being the impatient sort, and no longer comfortable sitting on the sidelines, I’m now turning over every financial stone I can think of, both here and abroad. I’ve got calls out, feelers out, prayers, chanting and rain dances out. Even with all that, I’m finding myself in a huge hedge maze. Like the one in ‘The Shining’, minus the snow (I’m not ruling out a lurking Jack Nicholson, though). Every turn seems to lead to a dead end. Eventually, we will get to the other side. Of that, I am certain. But, looking at the schedule sent over, I wonder how quickly we can make our way through. If we are to start shooting at the end of July, we kind of need funding like, um, now. Don’t you think?

Yes. We are in f***ing hell. Jeebus.