..Awards News

January 29, 2003

“We’re losing a million dollars a picture, but we’re making up for it on volume”
.................................................................................................- credited unverified to Menahem Golan

So, imagine this hypothetical scenario: You’re a first time filmmaker that managed to scrape together enough money to make a movie and it turned out pretty well. In fact, your dreams of glory, recognition and acclaim inched forward when Sundance accepted it into its dramatic competition or the American Spectrum section. Sounds good so far.

But now, following 10 giddy days in the rarified climes of the Utah festival, it’s time to reflect. Though the press was kind, even complimentary, you didn’t win a prize. You’re moment in the sun was repeatedly interrupted by J Lo, Ben, Brad, Matt, Selma and other icons of the indie scene who command millions. And that bidding war you envisioned between Miramax, Searchlight and UA turned out to be no better than a pat on the back and a quick “interesting work” comment from a junior acquisitions rep from the Samuel Goldwyn Company.

All this has happened so quickly and with such a flurry of activity, you can’t decide whether to be encouraged or angry. It does seem like a bit of a let down but the film you toiled on for so long and with such passion still exists and damn if you’re just going to let it sit in a can on some shelf. Friends have propped you up with anecdotes about pictures that weren’t sold in the heat of festival frenzy and went on to commercial glory. They just can’t seem to recall the specific titles.

Somewhere deep inside you’re daunted but even closer to the core, a voice faintly murmurs, “I’m going to be the exception.”

But before the next step is taken, a few facts are worth noting. Remember this figure, 5 percent. Dating back to the 1960s, the domestic marketplace has pretty much broken down as a 95%/5% split between the majors and everyone else. In 2002, the studios, their affiliates ranging from Miramax and New Line to Sony  Classics and Fox Searchlight, and DreamWorks accounted for 94.6% of the box office. About half of the remaining 5.4% came from a single picture - My Big Fat Greek Wedding. It may be a sliver but it’s a sliver that adds up to roughly $500 million.

Now, when you break down the numbers further the picture gets better and worse. Let us not forget that the majors also acquire American independent movies. Miramax picked up In the Bedroom, United Artists bought Bowling for Columbine and Fox Searchlight had The Good Girl. These and other titles last year generated about $175 million domestically for these companies, or 2% of their theatrical revenues or less than the box office of Greek Wedding. Acquisition of American independents accounted for 15.5% of Miramax’s box office and 0% of Warner Bros.

Of the 5.4% generated by the indies, $100 million came from foreign-language movies and English-language films from Canada, Australia and the U.K. One U.S. picture grossed $224 million and 124 movies combined for a box office of $154 million, an average gross of close to $1.25 million. IFC, the distributor of MBFGW, had the biggest piece of the pie but Lions Gate released the greatest number of movies with 13 titles. The remaining 111 films included many that were self-distributed by the filmmakers or handled by companies that rarely release more than a handful of pictures a year.

Not to disparage the situation too much, but apart from the previously mentioned indie distributors there are currently only three or four other prospective outlets for someone shopping a movie that expects a) an advance against performance, b) a decent marketing campaign, and c) exposure in more than five theaters in 10 top urban markets.

Perhaps, and it’s a hefty presumption, that’s all you desire for your film. However, most filmmakers tend to have a healthier ego as well as aunts, uncles, cousins and assorted financers that keep calling with nagging questions about where the picture’s playing and when they’re $10,000 loan will be returned.

There are options besides selling blood. There’s the previously mentioned route of self-distribution, or one might cajole or beg a distributor to handle your movie if you pay for prints and advertising. You might also screen for Landmark or a smaller theater circuits in hopes they will screen your film, or rent screens. Okay, it is a pretty discouraging situation for all but a handful of films produced annually outside the mainstream.

Ten years ago, Miramax and New Line had yet to be acquired by a studio and niche players, that included October and Trimark, appeared to be holding their own with specialized movies. The latter two alternatives, and many others, eventually closed down operations or morphed into other companies. Remarkably, a few others, including the then-nascent Strand, Kino, New Yorker and Zeitgeist, are still operating. But the ebb and flow of distributors has mostly been ebbing, with Lot 47 (Scotland, Pa. and The Fast Runner in 2002) the latest company to be put on the critical list.

There is a void to be filled that a start up like Newmarket (Real Women Have Curves) could possibly mine successfully. However, it has yet to build a line up of films. Premiere, the brainchild of former New Line marketing/distribution chairman Mitch Goldman, has a larder of a dozen pictures but needs another $5 million to $10 million to set things in motion. Meanwhile, its titles such as Madison and Slap Her, She’s French may not be improving with age. Gold Circle Films has been making noise about establishing a distribution arm but, not surprisingly, has yet to pull the trigger.

It might be a good idea to interject a bit of historical perspective. Back in the 1960s, the studios generally had associations with small distribution companies to handle their specialized films. Companies such as Lippert would handle pictures that included Tom Jones and Zorba the Greek in limited release and if these films crossed over into the mainstream, the majors would take over the distribution and marketing. A decade later, when John Calley was running Warner Bros., he began to seriously get involved with alternative movies and filmmakers. He acquired Mean Streets and Badlands and invested in films by European masters including The Damned, Day for Night and Amarcord. He had to sell off domestic distribution rights on the last film when his distribution department insisted it could not properly handle the film and Roger Corman’s Concorde Pictures took it on and grossed the then princely sum of $1 million on the Fellini movie.

In every subsequent decade a curious cycle has occurred. Following the success of some independent movie, a senior studio executive has decided that the company ought to be involved in alternative or specialized films. He establishes a niche division and several other majors follow suit. The long-term players in the art house field find they cannot compete with these start ups that are jacking up acquisition prices. Several years pass and, in the industry’s version of Darwinism, several smaller species become extinct. Meanwhile, the Brontos have been spending too much to make the books balance and another senior exec steps in and wonders why so much time and effort is being invested in an area that, at best, returns $1 million in profit. He decrees (quite properly) that it’s not the type of film business the studios are in and the division is shut down.

 

It’s difficult to imagine a more disadvantaged David vs. Goliath environment for truly independent distributors than currently exists. No one, not even the bygone era Miramax, can survive in the belief it will find a Greek Wedding or Dirty Dancing or Blair Witch Project every year. Any unencumbered film that has a whiff of popularity sets off a bidding war where only companies with deep pockets or rich parents can afford to play. Smaller companies are shut out in acquiring festival winners and movies by auteur directors with cache.

But it doesn’t stop there. Not only do these specialized divisions scoop up prime specialized real estate, they also produce it and can go to exhibition with a slate of a dozen movies and suggest the circuit give priority to its release schedule. The company handling five or six films annually can be hard-pressed to find a single available screen in a preferred venue for months, making it difficult to coordinate publicity that’s timely and effective.

Neither the government nor the industry is about to establish a relief package for independent American films whether they win awards at Sundance or not. The Independent Feature Project tried to lend a hand with a screening series of “worthy” films yet to secure distribution. The band-aid fizzled out in less than a year. And at the recently completed Sundance Film Festival, founder Robert Redford announced a venture with Loews Cineplex that will, initially, see one film screened monthly for four months.

Hmmmmmmm, sounds like the Shooting Gallery redux and, if memory serves, that program ran out of gas and money in less than two years. We’ll see whether a better mouse trap can be built, but wouldn’t the sector be better advised to use a successful model if it’s to wage war against the behemoths. The classic strategy has been to tough it out until the big guys tired of the diet of small potatoes. It may not be an option in the current cycle that could drag on for years. What we need here is something radical and innovative -- just like the films that used to be made by American independent mavericks.

Email Leonard Klady