Fallowed Ground (or A Practical Guide to Everything)

Recently, I found myself wondering about whatever happened to the game designers that designed (and usually programmed) some of my favourite computer games from the 80’s.

By following my nose (and a few quick Google searches), I ended up at James Hague’s website, www.dadgum.com/halcyon , where he has generously posted his book, Halcyon Days: Interviews with Classic Computer and Video Game Designers and Programmers.

Interviews included 8 bit game luminaries Bill Budge (Pinball Construction Set, Raster Blaster), Danielle Berry (formerly Bill Bunten; M.U.L.E., Seven Cities of Gold), Eugene Jarvis (Defender, Robotron 2084), Dan Gorlin (Choplifter) and Warren Robinett (Adventure), amongst others.

His interviews crossed game designers of many different platforms, including the Apple II, Commodore 64, Vic 20, and Odyssey 2, although he seemed to have a special affinity for Atari 2600 and 800 game designers.

The interviews were so comprehensive (twenty nine game developers were interviewed in all), that I began to get a sense of the times from the perspective of an 8 bit game designer, and could see clear patterns that may still be relevant today.

I’ll try and cover a few off the top of my head, so here’s my 8 bits worth:

The Game Designers frequently shared a common motivation… 

Almost all game designers spoke of “pushing boundaries”, using new techniques and technology, and almost all spoke of trying to capture a certain quality or spirit in their games.  Virtually none were content to just rehash the “same old, same old.”

Many eschewed huge profits by not rehashing a quick sequel, and when some did do a sequel to a successful title, they would frequently develop it much further, e.g. Jon Freeman and his Archon title.

… And a Common Gripe

As an obvious corollary, many game designers bemoaned the industry’s tendency, even at the time the interviews were conducted (1996-98?) to copy successful titles instead of innovating.

Many though were philosophical about why the game industry does this though, understanding that the industry does need to make money, and if this is what it thinks it needs to do to make money, then that made sense at least.

Risk-taking is essential to a good title

Another corollary of the above motivation to “push boundaries” is that they incorporated a degree of “business risk” into their games.  One game designer I recall, put his finger on it precisely.  To make a successful, breakthrough game, you need to take risks.  The same goes in film to some extent.  You can, and should minimize risks, but you can’t do the “same old”.  You have to take a risk somewhere, because part of what the audience comes for is a surprise.   By copying another successful title (unless it was your own, earlier successful title), you are setting the audience/gamer up for disappointment, and worse, you are trying to dip into an ever-diminishing pool of human interest.

Making Computer Games is a Risky Business

Many of the computer game writers interviewed were not financially successful from their games, except in a very modest way or for brief periods of time, usually lasting less than 12 months.  Many were forced to leave the industry they loved because of financial hardship - and these were game writers that had programmed classic games that are still loved and played today (usually through emulators - software programs that emulate the characteristics of the old 8 bit processors).

It was evident to me that the Computer Games Industry is subject to two forms of volatility:-

1) It is a “creative” industry.  Like filmmaking, writing, visual art, architecture, graphic design, photography etc, the game industry has far greater supply than demand, and is volatile because it is at the whim of public tastes.  It is not an essential good and as such rides highs and lows far greater than a normal commodity business.

2) It is also a technology industry:  Frequently a game designer’s fortunes rose and fell according to the platform for which they programmed/developed.  Many game designers rose and fell with the fortunes of Atari, Apple, Commodore etc etc.  As these platforms fell out of favour, frequently the game designers were out of a job, never to be back in games.  Technology is prone to booms and busts, and computer games are no different.  What focused risk back in those days was the small number of platforms.  Thus when Atari failed, it precipitated a huge crash in the computer games industry in ‘83-’84, which was also felt by non-Atari game developers. (I don’t know the reason for this but surmise that when Atari collapsed so did cross-platform licensing from other platforms.)  Nowadays, we can see the games industry is still concentrated and prone to platforms burning brightlyfor a few years before burning out. E.g. Sega, Playstation 2 , PSP (See this article for an analysis of the diminishing PS2 and PSP), Nintendo Cube(?).  And still we have a concentration of game platforms now in Xbox 360, PS 3, Wii, and more recently the iPhone.  It is salutary to realise these platforms don’t last forever.

The Computer Game Industry is “Discrete”

By this I mean it’s small, and granular.  The key people that drove the industry back then were finite and could be counted on one hand.  The big captains of the games companies, be they developers or publishers could basically make or break, and sometimes remake a game designers career.

Whilst this is true of many specialised areas, it adds to the volatility of the computer game industry, and stresses the importance of good networking ability and maintaining good relationships.  With the increasing size of the games industry, perhaps there is more flexibility, but there is still a concentration of platforms.

Game Designing was (and probably still is) a male-dominated industry

There were only two females interviewed.  One had previously been a man (Danielle Berry) - more on this below, and the other, Anne Westfall, was strictly a programmer and not the game designer.

Good Game Design is an Iterative Process

Most game designers describe a process where there were many tweaks, lots of trial and error and sheer persistence in trying to get a game element right.  This also implies they had an inner aesthetic “ideal” that they were trying to get their game to live up to.

Most Game Designers “Cut their Teeth” by working out how to program games they liked.

It seems obvious, but many game designers started out trying to program the games they liked, and from there looked for new challenges.  Programming the games they’d seen and liked probably gave them a good insight into how to make a new game that they would like or others would like.  Hmmmm.  That’s a good idea!

What Differentiated the Financially Successful Game Developers from the Unsuccessful Ones?

Platform choice

As mentioned above, a game designers choice of platform was extremely important.  Choosing to write for a platform that boomed in popularity meant you tended to ride that wave of popularity

Where a game designer chose to work for a successful platform, they would normally be paid well, although they were still generally employees and this would amount to modest to good income, but still roughly a good salary, and not a “fortune”.  As described in more detail below, generally it was the game designer that took some degree of proprietary/entrepreneurial risk that could make big money.

Seeing the Writing on the Wall and Acting on it

Many shrewd game designers saw the writing on the wall e.g. a declining platform or a new hot upcoming platform, and the most shrewd ones acted on the signs they saw by jumping ship or leaving the industry.

Piracy - the bane of digital content makers

The “popularity” of a game was not sufficient to make a game designer wealthy.  Unfortunately, then, as now, the industry was rife with piracy.  This meant that many game developers who made what are now considered classic games and were loved in their time, did not make that much money from their games.

Thus, one key determinant for success, along the lines of one of the “risk factors” outlined above, is whether the game platform was resistant to piracy.  For example, games that used cassette tape drives (remember them?) and floppy disks (whose write protection was easily bypassed) were extremely vulnerable to piracy and almost always ate a big chunk out of sales.

The flipside was also true.  When the platform had proprietary controls, such as tailor-made cartridges (some Atari models, and some games for the Commodore 64), this would reduce piracy.

Passionate Programmers

Many of the early game designers were passionate programmers, with only a few exceptions.  Jon Freeman was a clear exception, in that he was a game designer and only did a little programming.  There were others who were reluctant programmers, but were nevertheless driven on by an inherent perfectionism to make a game good that they suffered through it.  Upon reading their interviews, even these self-described “journeymen” were probably objectively speaking quite handy programmers - it’s just that in their company they were surrounded by many brilliant programmers.

Early Adopters (“Right time and right place”)

Being programmers at that point in time meant they were in the “right time”.   Personal computers were booming, and software for them, even entertainment software was booming too.

Many were in the “right place” by the mere fact of being in the US.  Very few of the early 8 bit designers were non-American.  Further coincidences frequently helped game designers, but in some cases, people made conscious decisions to be “in the right place” e.g. David Fox, who stayed on at Marin County because George Lucas ran his studios there.  Eventually, he got a job with LucasFilm ‘s games division (now LucasArts), although he had to work a lot harder for it than his dream where George Lucas wandered into his computer store, said that he liked his work and gave him a job on the spot.  The reality was he received a tip-off from a LucasFilm employee who can into his store and he applied for the job.

Contacts, Relatives and Friends

Many of the game designers used friends and relatives and contacts to help them get a start in the industry.  Admittedly though, most already had great programming skills, so when they did pester their contact/family/friend, they were able to take advantage of the opportunity.

Making a Great & Innovative Title

Surprisingly, this was not always required (writing rip-offs of arcade games or other successful titles was reasonably lucrative in the early days and probably still is…), although it provided a good starting point.

Nevertheless, many did write great and innovative titles and many pioneered new genres, e.g the adventure game, the God game (Peter Molyneux - not interviewed here because he came in the 90’s), the pinball game (Bill Budge with Raster Blaster), user-created content (Bill Budge again, but this time with Pinball Construction Set - and note how he’s also giving more on the same theme that made his first audience happy.)  Eugene Jarvis also pioneered the side-scrolling action game in Defender, but modified and improved Berzerk to make Robotron 2084.  Dan Gorlin hadn’t even seen Defender, and made Choplifter (Gorlin “copied” the idea of picking up humans like you do in Defender when a neighbour’s kid who was a big fan of Defender suggested it. The two games are nothing alike save for being loosely classed as “side-scrollers”.)  Marc Goodman invented a new genre with Bilestoad (top down one-on-one combat gore fest - still unique from what I can see), Sid Meier (not interviewed as Civ came a bit later in the 80’s). etc etc.

Branding

If you could somehow get your name associated with the title (generally a prerequisite to this was to have written a successful title in the first place) and it was successful, then this frequently led to financial success, as was the case with Bill Budge and Sid Meier.

Cashing In - Making a Sequel or similar style of game

A more important consideration was if the game designer followed up with a title that cashed in on the earlier breakthrough title with something similar e.g. a sequel, or that developed the original idea more e.g. Archon II.  Bill Budge followed up Raster Blaster with Pinball Construction Set.

Keeping Intellectual Property (IP) Rights

This looked to be a pretty important factor, although again, whilst it appeared almost necessary, it was not, of itself sufficient to guarantee financial success.  Just because the game developer owned the rights didn’t mean that they had any bargaining power.  They would still have to go to the publishing house or game platform, and try to sell their wares.  Many game designers, after successful initial games, found the platform they were writing for was dying by the time their new games were finished.  This is a manifestation of the earlier point, “Platform Choice”, and is one of the many hazards to consider in taking on entrepreneurial/business risk.

Vertical Integration (Controlling your destiny; In-house Sales & Marketing, Starting your own company)

Probably more important than just owning the IP to your game was whether or not you had taken the entrepreneurial risk to start your own company that would not only develop your games, but sell and market them.

This meant you cashed in on a successful title rather than just getting a salary, or getting squeezed out of a decent percentage.

Even this had its risks though, although not all of these were financial.  In the case of Jon Freeman, who co-founded Epyx, he found the office politics of running a company too much to bear.   It doesn’t seem surprising that many game developers, who are excellent at spending long, lonely nights programming, didn’t adjust to a larger team environment.  Jon Freeman wasn’t even the main programmer though, but the game designer.  He just preferred small teams.

Many who did set up their own company did not avoid the inherent risks of the games industry either, with many backing the wrong horse, or backing the right horse but thinking it was a “stayer” when it was only a “sprinter”.

Getting into the Game Programming Zone/Flow/Rhythm

Almost all of the game designers spoke of highly productive and happy periods in their game designing life, where they were so productive that some were churning out a title every month or two months (Ah! The 8 bit era!)  They were working 10-16 hours per day but more important than the sheer quantity of hours, they were in a happy rhythm.

From my own perspective this is a sign that they were doing the “right” job.  A job where they found their “bliss”.  If you can find this type of “bliss” or “flow” in computer game making, then I suggest it is your profession.  And if you don’t find it in computer games then it is probably not the profession for you.

Instead, seek out that task where you do find “bliss”.  For me, right now, I’m just noticing that I find writing in-depth articles about subjects I’m interested is a “blissful” experience.  I churned out 4 pages in an hour and slowed to 2 pages in the next hour as my anti-allergy pills kicked in and made me drowsy.

Are there any lessons we can learn from the 8 bit era?

Whilst some things have definitely changed (such as typical team sizes for games development, the games biz is no longer just the US of A), others still stay remarkably the same.

For one, the games industry’s platform concentration is still quite severe.  Some would argue that this creates stability of sorts, which gives game developers something to aim at.  Nevertheless, it’s important to be watchful about the platforms you develop on.  Get in early on the hot platforms, and be prepared to move early too.  It takes months if not years to develop a game, and by the time you’re finished, the new game technology/environment may make your game irrelevant.

It’s still male dominated, and from this, it shows there’s probably room for more female-oriented game development.  It’s interesting to read Danielle Berry’s comments about how, now that she is female, she can’t program anymore like she used to when she was a man - although she thinks a small part of this is attributable to her age and motivation.  Even still, her insights back at the time she was interviewed by James Hague, over 12 years ago, are stunningly prescient.  For one, she thought there would be room for more games where you interact with others, anticipating MMORPG’s, and Web 2.0, as well as sandpit alternate realities like Second Life, The Sims, and user-created content to some extent.  She also anticipated that games that came from other disciplines would be the types of games that would break through.  Can’t think of any computer games that come from the other arts?  How about Guitar Hero, Sing Star and Dance Dance Revolution?  She may not be able to program anymore, but she can sure predict the future of gaming!

From the above, it should be noted that the age-old lesson of needing to own your IP and take the entrepreneurial risk should be taken with a hint of “get out whilst the going’s good”.  What is more, many game designers may not be comfortable doing the myriad tasks involved in setting up their own company and marketing and selling their wares.  None of the game designers that set up their own company mentioned being in the same kind of happy “zone” or “flow” described above about their days of programming games.

Also “qualified” is the advice that game designers need to innovate or risk never succeeding.  Whilst this is true, it is purely a pragmatic financial step to make a sequel should the first title be successful.

But it is still an even better idea to make a GREAT sequel, that builds upon your existing knowledge and takes it further — erm, with perhaps the exception of Duke Nuke’em.

fallowed

Hi,

I’m going to take a little break from regular blogs for a little while.  Too many “life issues” to deal with, including getting married, trying to buy a house, helping my f’ee with her stuff etc etc.  Oh yes, and a screenplay to write.  One friend noted I am being too ambitious trying to get even one of these done let alone two or more.  Noted.

I may be back soon with another Hot Tips Sheet but after that, expect a pause for a couple of months.

Cheerio ’til the next time I bump into you in the blogosphere.

Fallowed

I’ve been prompted by a meeting with upcoming producer, Z_, to share some of my tidbits on how to get by in LA.  Z_ is headed across to support a short film she has produced and which has made it into a film festival over there.  Congratulations Z_!

Although I know you already must know a lot to have got this far, I hope these tips can be of some use to you.

Getting There

Things have changed a lot in 18 months since I was there.  Even though the Aussie dollar was near parity with the greenback, air fares have come down a lot due to a combination of the GFC, Swine ‘Flu and most importantly – competition.  Virgin Atlantic and Delta have entered the old duopoly held by Qantas and Contintental Airlines(?).

Don’t forget your toothbrush

I remember we (my former filmmaking partner and I) had to go via Taiwan, making a 13 hour flight into a 24 hour flight with an 8 hour visit to Taipei International Airport, and the fare was still more expensive than what you’d get now.  My filmmaking partner was not in the habit of brushing his teeth which added to the discomfort of flying cattle class.

Practical Tip:  Bring breath mints for the flight – to give to the other passengers you are forced to sit next to.

Accommodation

Staying in LA is actually quite cheap if you don’t mind staying at backpackers and YHA’s.  There are at least two YHA’s, conveniently located for doing “film biz”-type activities.

One is at Santa Monica, one block away from Loewe’s Hotel, the epicentre of the American Film Market (held in November I think, although they were thinking of moving it to January last I heard.)

Santa Monica is the famous beach-side suburb, just one suburb north of the even more famous Venice Beach.  You’ll probably recognise the famous Santa Monica pier from films like Forrest Gump.  It has an amusement park on it.

Don’t tell people you’re staying at a YHA

Whilst working our way around the AFM, hob-nobbing with film exec-types to get meetings, we’d frequently be asked where we were staying.  Many had come to LA specifically for the AFM and thought it would be good to meet outside the AFM which was too crowded for discreet discussion.  Also, the Loewes Hotel prohibited screening of films, even by DVD on a laptop (in order to get people to pay for a suite there at some exorbitant price) So I’d ask them “Do you know where the Hotel Carmel is?” (The Hotel Carmel is a good hotel nearby on Second Avenue)  To which they’d respond “Oh, you’re staying at the Hotel Carmel?”  To which I’d non-answer “Let’s meet at the café right next to it. You know the one?”  To which they’d always respond “Oh yeah.  Let’s meet there!”

If you want to stay closer to Hollywood for meetings, there’s also a YHA in Hollywood.

Another alternative my filmmaking partner and I tried was couch-surfing.  This is pretty much what it sounds like.  You go to a website like the eponymous www.couchsurfing.com and try and find people willing to put you up in their spare bed (or couch – thus the name).   They’ll usually do it for free.

We really lucked-in.  After spending a week at the YHA at Santa Monica during the American Film Market, we still had business to do.

Practical Tip:  If you are at the AFM, it’s good to reserve a week or two after the event to do follow-up meetings with all the good contacts you made.

Immediately after the AFM I had lined up some couch-surfing with an amazing and extremely generous guy called Marcus York.  Marcus is an actor, wheel-chair bound by a car accident he had in his twenties.  Now in his forties, Marcus doesn’t feel the wheel-chair is a limitation at all, having opened up many avenues for him, the most important of which being his mind.

Marcus welcomes guests, especially filmmakers trying to get their break in LA. 

Think of a figure and double it

It was literally on Marcus’ sofa-bed that we got the phone call from the Canadian studio execs.  They asked us how much we needed to make our film.  In previous discussions my partner and I had agreed we would “high-ball” any studio with a budget of AU$3 million, even though we knew we could make our script on AU$500,000.  When it came to the moment though, it kind of got stuck in my throat:-

Y: “Err,  I-I think about, ummm, two, maybe, errm, three-“

The Mr Big on the other end of the line (we were hunched over my partner’s mobile phone which had a speaker-phone setting) cut me off:-

Mr Big:  We think it’ll take four million.  Whaddya say?

It was only later I took in that they meant US four million.

In the end, Marcus put up with us for four weeks, after initially saying we’d only stay for 1 week.  He didn’t mind at all and remained a generous host throughout, driving us around the sights and shouting us to dinner on numerous occasions.

Getting About in LA

Something that was a very big surprise to us was that public transport, namely buses, are extremely efficient and cheap.  We fully expected the motor car to dominate (and it does in important ways), but so long as you want to go to film-biz type destinations, you will find the buses are quite regular.

There is also a train line which is clean and efficient, and is not too far from Marcus’ place in North Hollywood if that is where you choose to stay.

There is one down-side to getting about on public transport in LA, and that is, none of the local Los Angeleans know about their great bus system, and few will be able to direct you to the closest bus stop.

Food & Beverages

Nothing is as it seems in America

We were fortunate enough to bump into an Australian actor, Grant Bowler (the voice for “Border Security”, Something in the Air, Canal Road, Outrageous Fortune, Lost, Ugly Betty) whilst we walked back along the Esplanade back to our YHA from the American Film Market.  My filmmaking partner had the good fortune of taking acting classes under Grant, and Grant generously treated us to lunch. Grant shouted us to whatever we wanted, and, as is the custom in America, your coffee mug is filled, then refilled ad infinitum.  Smelling the coffee, I took a big swig – and almost gagged.  Grant burst out laughing at the expression on my face.  After a few seconds to recover myself I was finally able to get out the words: “That’s not coffee!  It looks like coffee.  It smells like coffee.  But it sure don’t taste like coffee!”  I declined the waitress’ offer of a refill.

Food in LA is comparably priced to Sydney with two exceptions.  Cheap (and unhealthy) fast food is very, very cheap.  One dollar will buy you a hamburger at a well-known hamburger franchise.  Expensive food can be very, very expensive too.  But by and large, food prices are comparable.  Like we found in Cannes, we did not put on any weight whilst in LA despite our unhealthy diet, because we found ourselves doing a lot of walking.

Don’t forget to tip

My filmmaking partner and I had just finished a good meal at the “All-you-can-eat” sushi restaurant in North Hollywood, a place we had frequented on two or three occasions.  This occasion was to catch-up with a young Australian actress I’d known in Australia.  She had been in some of my earliest short films, and was great value – free actually.  Nowadays, she was supporting her acting by working in a video hire shop.  Like most actors, she was trying to produce her own screenplay.  The time came to paying the bill, and I felt the usual nudge from my filmmaking partner, P_.

P_: Hey mate.  Can you cover me?  I’ve only got ten bucks.

P_ showed me the contents of his wallet which revealed a ten dollar note and a few coins.

So as was our custom, I paid for the full bill, suggesting he pay the tip.  But when it came to paying the tip, P_ let the Japanese sushi chef pick up the coin tray without dropping anything in it.

Staring at the empty tray, the chef exploded.

Chef: “What? No tip?  This is the third time you guys have been here and no tip?!  That’s outrageous, especially considering how much you eat.  Especially you! (He pointed at P_.) 

Fortunately, our actor friend, blonde, blue-eyed and already a favourite with the Japanese chef (“You are so beautifoo! Beautifoo rady!”) was able to smooth things over.

She graciously took the blame for it, saying she should have warned us that American restaurants expect a tip of at least 10%.  To not do so would be considered rude.  Of course, we already knew that.  I’d told P_ that on at least two earlier occasions.

It was yet another nail in the coffin of our filmmaking partnership.

Film Biz Tips

Sorry if I’m telling you stuff you already know.  This is stuff I learned whilst I was over there that isn’t in the textbooks.  Much of this information is best used in the film market environment, but even if you aren’t going during the AFM, you might be attending a festival where similar rules apply.

Practical Tip #1:  It Pays to be an Aussie (Part 372)

By the time we reached LA we already had some runs on the board.  We had an AFC funded screenplay, numerous letters of interest, as well as a distribution offer for Mainland China and Hong Kong. We also had a list as long as my arm of other contacts we’d met at Cannes, and could follow up in LA. We were also short-listed for the AFC’s (now Screen Australia’s) production funding.  Screen Australia’s production funding revolves around a matched-funding scheme.  For every dollar you can bring in from a genuine “arms length” investor, the Government will match it with another dollar.  At the time we were in LA, this amount was capped at AU$2.5 million (just bumped up from AU$2 million.)  This meant our pitch centred around the possibility of partnerships raising up to AU$1.25 million.

Our pre-conceptions before we arrived in LA at the World’s largest film market were that as Australians, we were small-fry in the Big Bad World of Filmmaking.  With numerous pre-GFC film budgets in excess of $100 million we thought, who would want our measly $1.25 million in our piddly Pacific Peso?

“Many people”, is the short answer.  You see, unlike most of the filmmaking World, the United States of the Universe is not being swamped by foreign film product, stifling the home-grown industry.  That’s obviously, because the US is the foreign film product swamping all other home-grown film industries (save perhaps Bollywood, Nollywood and the French – whose film industry is subsidised, by … films from the US.)

Because the US film industry is so strong, and because it is the land of the Free(-market), the film industry does not receive any government subsidies.  That’s right.  US independent filmmakers are on their own. No Screen America “Indivision” funding.  No Screen America subsidized “home base” with free internet and telephone at Cannes. And yet, US independent filmmakers make up a sizable part of the market, especially at places like the American Film Market.  

At the AFM there are loads of filmmakers who are all too happy to make films for under $2.5 million, for whom $2.5 million is a lot of money.  The reason should be obvious to those who have made a film in Australia on a shoe-string budget.  The answer is because, those figures you hear bandied around like “This film cost US$50 million to make.” Etc are rubbish.

The US$50 million figure is how much the producers of the film convinced the studio or IMDB how much they sold it for.  They probably actually made it for around US$8 million and kept the rest.

This means the Yanks outside the studio system are making films for … around AU$2.5 million.  In fact, we met the latest American enfant terrible who had made his feature film for $3000 and made US$10 million at the box office.  Suffice to say, he was pestering us for the next two weeks to allow him to direct our film, dreaming up every sort of dodgy accounting trick to come up with his “half” of the funding.

In other words, most independent filmmakers in the US know you can make a great film for $500,000 or a smallish Screen Australia production grant.  They haven’t forgotten Quentin Tarantino made his breakthrough film, Reservoir Dogs for US$300,000.  In fact, Tarantino was so confident he could make it for that amount, he turned down US$700,000 and US$1.2 million offers for his script, in order that he could direct the film himself.

It Pays to be an Aussie (Part 373)

You know that crappy little short film you made at film school?  You know how you don’t even dare show your grandmother that embarrassing rambling, waffly, soundless study about the essence of post-structuralist existence?  In places like the US, very few people get to make films like you have using Government subsidised equipment (and if you’ve attended a TAFE, university or the AFTRS then you definitely fall into this category).  This may well mean your embarrassing short film is a lot better than the struggling independent American filmmaker next to you who has no embarrassing short film to his/her name.

A corollary of this fact was that when we managed to sit a distributor or sales agent down, and show them our short films and sizzle reels, they were almost invariably impressed.  (The one exception was an Australian agent, based in LA who shall remain nameless…)

If your little short film has been good enough to win a place in a short film festival, the World begins to be your oyster.

Australia – the 51^st State

After two weeks in LA, we were finally granted an audience at Rogue Pictures, a spin-off of Universal Studio that focused upon low-budget (US$10-40 million) genre films. (P_’s agent’s secretary’s assistant happened to know a friend who knew a friend…) Fortunately, we had two films I had made that we could show them to prove our filmmaking credentials.  One was a CGI-laden short film reminiscent of “300”, only I could sincerely claim to have made it two years before “300” was released. The other, we had also scrambled to make in three weeks before we left for LA.

As the credits rolled on this latter short film, the Rogue studio exec rocked back in his chair and asked “Hey that’s really slick! Musta cost you at least $100,000 right? (It had cost us $5000) So which city in America did you shoot that in?  It looks really familiar…”  He paused as he noticed P_ and myself glancing nervously at each other.  The penny finally dropped for him.  He knew we had come to the US two weeks earlier, and could only have made the film in Australia.

Practical Tip #2: Don’t forget the Empire!

In addition to our film funding bodies, Australia also benefits from its numerous co-production arrangements.  Again, the US has no co-production arrangements (except perhaps with Puerto Rico, the real 51^st state of the United States) to benefit its filmmakers.  If you are seeking film funding, make sure you memorise the countries that have filmmaking co-production arrangements with your own. Naturally enough, Australia has co-production agreements with many Commonwealth and former Commonwealth nations, in addition to a few other enterprising countries that value their filmmaking industry.  This small fact proved invaluable to our film financing efforts.

Practical Tip:  It’s all about representation

In film school, you will be taught about the film making chain.  The screenwriter writes the screenplay, and a producer buys an option on it and takes it around to the studios, or production houses to get it made into a film.  They in turn will try to get a deal before the film is made, from a sales agent or distributor, who then sells it to the exhibitor (the chap or lass who owns the cinema.)

But two very important parts of the equation that are not mentioned in the above are “stars” and “agents”.  Sure, many people are aware that stars are extremely important elements in getting a film funded.  However, fewer are aware (and watching Entourage does not count as being ‘aware’), how important the talent agent is in the above equation.  Talent agents represent the new force in Hollywood.  They control the stars (who the paying public really want to see) and as a consequence, they begin to control the studios when they have enough stars (or ‘talent’ in the film biz lingo) on their books.  The top four talent agents control so many stars that it almost becomes essential if you are an actor, writer or director to be represented by them.  If that is what you want to be, I recommend you get representation by one of them, or at least a credible agent.

As to how you get to be represented by one of them – I’ll save that for my Hot Tips for Hollywood sheet.

How to Stay in LA

OK, so you’ve come to La La land and stars are in your eyes.  In fact, isn’t that George Clooney sipping a chai latte at the booth across from you?  All the stars, the studios, the agents – this is the town where it all happens, and you’ve decided you have to stay.  So what do you do?

This is what our friend K_ did:-

“That stuff only happens in the movies.”

K_ was blonde, blue-eyed, young and female.  The World was her oyster.  The only problem was, she was an Australian in Australia, and all the action was in LA.  Within two years of having met K_, at the ripe old age of 22, she had jetted off to LA, and decided she would stay until she made it.  But two years had passed, and her visa was running out.  Sure, she could spend a year out of the country and return, but that was a whole, critical year.  K_ knew that despite being forever blonde, blue-eyed and female, she would not remain young forever.  She decided she needed to do something more “permanent”.  What did she do?  K_ decided she would marry an American.  In fact, she offered to pay any eligible American male US$2000 for the privilege of being their spouse.  The lucky qualifying man turned out to be just what she wanted.  He never interfered in her life, lived apart from her and never asked her for sex.  No matter then that he was nearly forty years her senior.  I asked if she had any “Green Card” style experiences (the film starring Gerard Depardieu and Andie McDowell, about the piece of paper you need to stay in the US, equivalent to our “PR” or ‘permanent residency” status.  Briefly, Gerard Depardieu finds he needs to marry someone to whom he is totally unsuited for a green card.  The couple are subject to intimate interrogations by the Department of Immigration officials to prove their authenticity as a genuine, loving, married couple.)  She said breezily “Nuh.  Never.”

Australian director, Andrew Dominik has only made two feature films: Chopper, a film about the infamous Australian underworld figure Mark ‘Chopper’ Read, and The Assassination of Jessie James by the Coward Robert Ford (or “The Assassination” hereafter). Spoiler warning:  This article may contain passages that give away the ending or plot points of the above-mentioned films.)

There are some clear thematic similarities between these two films, but this article seeks to elicit a deeper thematic correspondence. 

Obviously, both films are about renowned criminals.  However, those expecting a deep psychological character study of the famed American outlaw, Jessie James  (played convincingly by Brad Pitt) would be disappointed for “The Assassination” focuses more upon James’ understudy and eventual nemesis, Robert Ford, played cringingly well by the then, much lesser known Casey Affleck (yes, brother of Ben, but no relation in acting styles).

In The Assassination, we follow Robert Ford’s journey from fawning fan and accomplice, through to that of reluctant killer, having eventually come to fear Jessie James as a vengeful, cold-blooded murderer.

However, the extended Act 3 epilogue is the telling one.  In the last stanza of The Assassination, after Robert Ford has killed Jessie James, the film follows Ford’s path as he rises to wealth and fame through his book and re-enactments of how he came to kill the legendary Jessie James.  Despite his wealth and fame (or perhaps in part because of it), Ford never lives down the killing of Jessie James, seen by an equally fawning public (fawning to the legend of Jessie James, not Robert Ford) as a cowardly act.

In Chopper, we follow the journey of Mark ‘Chopper’ Read.  Chopper depicts a man who falls in love with his “tough guy” image, part-larrikin, part killer.  The final scene shows Chopper hamming it up before the cameras, only to be locked in his cell, a lonely, pathetic figure.

The thematic resemblances should be clear at this point.  The Assassination is the tragedy of Robert Ford, who tries to build his reputation as a hero, only to find he is viewed and reviled as a coward.  Chopper is the tragedy of Mark Read, who falls in love with his image as a tough-guy/larrikin, whereas the truth is he is just a lonely jailbird.

Continuing the Theme?

What next then, for Andrew Dominik?  It may come as no surprise to some, that Dominik is making his screen adaptation of the Cormac McCarthy novel, Cities of the Plain, the third of the famous “Border Crossing” trilogy.

Not having read the this book (I’ve only read the first third of the second novel, “The Crossing”) I picked my fiancee’s brain for her thoughts on Cormac McCarthy’s key themes.  Here is her list:

- How does a man work out what’s right?

- Characters don’t explain themselves – they are men of action, driven by some inscrutable internal logic/path/moral code.

- Contrast between the World’s perceptions of the character and the reality.  In Chopper, it was of lead character.  In The Assassination, this misperception was of Jessie James, and how it impacted on Robert Ford.

- Morality and personal codes which are violent/tragic/cruel/irrational

- Lots of violence in general in a tragic, cruel, irrational world.

- Cruel world, nevertheless with a bleak beauty about it.

- Spiritual encounters – Man and his God.

Again, the thematic correspondence between Cormac McCarthy’s work and Dominik’s earlier work is undeniable.  It appears the themes of his material are much more important than any commercial aspects of his work, or he wouldn’t have waited 8 years to make a film after the widely acclaimed Chopper.  Also, he would not have chosen the third book in a trilogy, the first of which, All the Pretty Horses was a box office flop.

Personally, I hope this trend continues.

Good News For Word Nerds

Below is a link to a business analysis by Alan Kohler (Business Spectator) of the new e-book, Kindle, from Amazon.

In it, Kohler calculates that should e-book take up reach 100%, and e-book users pay for their newspaper subscriptions, papers with readership of 200,000 (e.g. Sydney Morning Herald) will just break even, where as others below that will struggle to survive.  The big international newspapers with readership in the millions should remain strong.

 I think the figures used by Kohler (essentially a 100% ownership of the e-book) are very optimistic as it assumes an enormous take-up of the e-book.  We see even run-away successes like the Apple iPhone struggle to achieve those sorts of number. The following link shows the dominant player in the smartphone market is actually the Research-in-Motion (RIM) Blackberry family of devices with 44.5% market share in June 2008 (anyone got some more recent figures than this?), not the iPhone (which had fallen from 26.7% to  19.2%.):-

http://www.zdnet.com.au/news/communications/soa/iPhone-loses-market-share-to-RIM-Palm/0,130061791,339289520,00.htm

Perhaps one could argue that e-books as a class of device will achieve near 100% saturation (just as mobile phones have achieved near 100% saturation amongst consumers). But to my mind, the e-book is too expensive and bulky to achieve that kind of saturation.  Maybe in time though, if they (and it needn’t be one e-book maker, but a host of e-book competitors) can make it lighter, brighter (back-lit screen if required) and cheaper, without losing its durability, then it will take off.  I think an important price point for such a device is firstly under $100 (at the time of writing they are retailing at US$359), and then under $30.  When it hits the first price threshold, it will capture the first 20% of the market and garner some “cachet” or “cool” factor.  When under $30, you will get near saturation like what Alan Kohler’s figures need.

Another good market would be the educational market, especially schools (primary and high school).  Laptops and computers are too powerful, expensive, delicate and prone to misuse (because of their power).  In an environment like primary or secondary schools which may desire some control over its pupils, the restrictions that an e-book has are sometimes desirable.

Links:

http://www.businessspectator.com.au/bs.nsf/Article/Papers-are-more-than-kindling-pd20090514-RZSQ3?OpenDocument&src=sph 

http://www.amazon.com/Kindle-Amazons-Wireless-Reading-Device/dp/B000FI73MA 

In the end, my filmmaking partner P_ and I each made one phone call to producer’s we knew had traveled to Cannes.

The feedback from my former producer H_, a past attendee and award-winning short-film producer at Cannes, was that I definitely should go, although she was concerned that it was already too late, seeing as Cannes had started the day before.

I remember her specific advice was to wear comfortable shoes, as there was much walking to be done, and to hang around not at the Hotel Majestic, where people and film business conspicuously hung-out, but at the little hotel just behind it.  It was to smaller, more discrete retreats that true film biz heavyweights would congregate for an after-work tipple.

H_ also sighed that meetings took weeks in advance to set up, so there was little likelihood of getting a meeting at this late stage.  Nevertheless, H_ felt it was mandatory to attend Cannes, if only as a learning experience.  She said “In the first year you attend Cannes, you won’t do any deals, but you will learn a lot.  You have to have a first year sometime, so it may as well be now.”

That was enough for me.  All along P_ had stood beside me as I made the call.  After I filled him in on H_’s advice, it was his turn to call his contact.

Judging from P_’s responses as he spoke on the phone, it sounded like P_ had a very different relationship with his producer contact.  P_ was evidently in a much more junior position in the view of the person on the other end of the phone, and the advice sounded part sermon, part lecture, part scold.

Practical Tip:  For those who are new to “the Biz”, it is common to get this kind of condescending attitude.  You will note I never assumed P_ was an incapable producer – just an inexperienced one.  I was confident with my guidance, and our mutual eagerness to learn, that we could do a sufficient amount of the producing to get the film financed.  In retrospect I am sure I made the right decision.

Again, the contact advised P_ it was too late to attend Cannes seeing as it had already started.  Again, the contact affirmed that Cannes was a very important destination for filmmakers, however, the contact implied P_ was too junior to be attending such a lofty event as the Cannes Film Festival.

On the subject of meetings, yet again, the advice was that it was too late to book meetings.  That should have been done months ago.

On the basis of these two phone calls, and Sh_’s advice the night before, P_ and I decided to proceed with booking tickets to Cannes straight away.

To be continued… 

I had made the decision to go to the Cannes Film Festival then and there, in Sh_’s living room.

The only hurdle now was to convince my filmmaking partner P_ that he should be going too.  This was not going to be easy.

I had already noticed P_’s penny-pinching ways.  Even in our first meeting he had not purchased himself a coffee, asking instead for tap water at the café where we met.  I had wondered then what would happen if I didn’t buy anything either.  My guess was that he would still refuse to buy anything at the café, despite using their chair, tables and waitstaff’s time.

In the ensuing weeks I would test this theory to come to a singular conclusion.  P_ would indeed refuse to buy anything, leaving the onus upon me to pay for something so we didn’t get moved along by an angry proprietor.

Another P_ ‘party trick’ was to load up on his favourite “goon wine” (the cheapest cask wine he could find) and get drunk on the cask wine before going out.  A true “Cadbury” man, it didn’t take much to get P_ drunk.  A glass and a half of alcohol was sufficient to change his behaviour completely.  Whilst P_ would normally keep his high opinion of himself in check, after a whiff of alcohol, his lofty self-sentiments came thick and fast.  Self-serving comments and then insults would soon follow.  The annoying thing with P_ was that if you made a rejoinder, his uncanny memory and shameless ersatz behaviour would mean the rejoinder would be used against you the next time, or he would copy your wisecrack word-for-word and claim it as his own.

Sh_, whom P_ had submitted parts of our script complained P_ had stolen his lines that Sh_ himself had used in his pick-up forays.

I knew I had my work cut out for me trying to convince P_ of parting with $3000 for what may well have been a fruitless trip.

Fortunately, for all Sh_’s snarky comments, he was at least consistent with his own argument that we should be in Cannes.  Although Sh_ did not volunteer any arguments that would encourage P_ to make the trip to Cannes, I was easily able to force agreement from Sh_.

Y: P_, what’s $3000 compared to getting our film financed.  If we want our film financed we have to go to an international market like Cannes.  Isn’t that right Sh_?

Sh_ (reluctantly):  Oh….. Yes.

I could see Sh_ was bewildered by my audacity.  In his mind he was asking himself the question: “Is Y_ really going to fly out to Cannes after it’s already started?”

After nearly four hours of continuous, but never angry debate, P_ finally agreed that he needed to go too.

There was one check I myself had to make before I felt 100% confident myself.  I needed to make a phone call to an upcoming producer, H_, who had a year earlier approached me to make a screenplay I had shown her into a feature film.

She had already some success at Cannes, but only at the short film level.  A film she produced had been submitted into the Uncertain Regard section of the short film competition – still a major accomplishment considering the hundreds of entries they receive.

What was unusual about this request was that it came some six months after I had initially approached her with the script.  Belatedly she called me telling me I had a “unique voice”.  I was skeptical of her change of heart, noting it had come just two weeks before a deadline for original screenplays from emerging filmmakers.

I hesitated before making the call.  Although we had not had crossed words, I was disappointed by her earlier vacillation on my script.

Still, it was no time to let the past concern me.  I had to make an important decision on whether to spend $3000 on plane tickets and expenses flying to a place I had never been before.  I also had the added responsibility of my partner’s $3000 investment, as well as our combined time.

In the end, the decision was easy.  It was only one phone call.

To be continued… 

Cannes begins in only 2 days, so as promised, I have fast-forwarded my blog to a more appropriate point in time, some three weeks later.  At this point in my journey, P_ and I had hastily completed the first jointly written draft and submitted it to the peak Australian film funding body.

Now that we had finished the script and handed it in just before the deadline, we had more time.  P_ and I had decided to approach recognized Australian producers to help us find funding for our film.

Already we had attempted a few meetings and phone calls.  No-one appeared interested in our idea.

Nevertheless, we pushed on.  P_ needed to assemble his showreel, and I had to assemble my own.  My allies were back at my alma mater, the Australian Film Television and Radio School (www.aftrs.edu.au)

I called in for a few favours from around the traps, and soon enough, I had 50 DVD’s on track to be picked up in a couple of days.

For his showreel P_ had turned to his friend Sh__, an unusual looking individual who chose to dress in completely in black.  Jeans, jacket, shirt and hat, were all worn regardless of the season.  Perhaps it was to cover his bald patch at the back of his thinning red hair, I wondered.  His plaited ponytail and inch long finger nails made him even more distinctive in appearance – almost repulsive.  “Goth” was the stereotype I thought of straight away.  I assumed he would be into horror films.

Although he fulfilled that stereotype, having made a feature-length low-budget horror film, his corridor was crammed with an amazing video archive.  In contrast to the grimy surrounds, Sh__’s library was neat and ordered with a pedant’s attention to detail, and a true conneiseur’s breadth and depth of selection.

That night we were camped in Sh__’s lounge room telling him of our situation as he dutifully cut P_’s reel.

I’d only met Sh__ once before, and P_ had shown him some of the work I had done at the AFTRS.  That time, Sh__ had scoffed at it, saying it was very “student”.

The very same work Sh__ scoffed at would later wow an executive from the distributor of ‘The Passions of the Christ.’

That day was still nearly a week away though.  Tonight, Sh__ was in his usual form.

“If you guys had any idea, you guys would be at Cannes right now where G_ is.  G_ has the right idea.  He knows more than you guys do! Fancy that!”, Sh__ sneered.

G_ was a mutual friend of P_ and Sh__’s.  I had only heard of G_ second-hand.  Suffice to say, his reputation preceded him.

He was Ed Wood and Rupert Kathner all rolled into one.  At the time of this discussion G_ had shot sixteen films, and only completed one.  Sh__ had been the editor of this final film, and it was this film that G_ had taken with him to “sell in Cannes.”

Even the shorts I’d seen from P_’s showreel had been appalling.  Fat Pizza looked like the Shawshank Redemption compared to this schlock.

I had seen G_’s work and had met many people who had worked on his shoots.  It was like a rite of passage for amateur Australian filmmakers to have been ripped off by G_ for one of his schlock films.  With titles that would have made Monty Python proud, G_’s talent for outlandish titles and pulling together people had somehow skipped his filmmaking abilities.

And yet despite my considerable exposure to amateur filmmaking over the previous 5 years, I had been fortunate enough never to have had the dubious honour of meeting G_.

Now, Sh__ rocked back in his desk chair facing us, his back towards his bank of computers behind him, occupying one corner of the room.  A smug smile revealed a set of teeth that would have an orthodontist rubbing his hands in glee.

At first I considered the comparison to Australia’s most notorious amateur filmmaker just another self-serving insult.  I had heard from P_ just before my first meeting with Sh__ that Sh__ had wanted to direct the film on the subject matter P_ and I had embarked upon.  In fact, it was Sh__ that had put P_ first onto the Pick-Up Artist stuff.  Of course – it had to be a nerd that would discover this type of thing.  Sh__ was a Goth-nerd.  Or Nerd-Goth if you will.

I attributed the rise of the Pick-Up Artist to the advent of the Internet. Now, socially awkward men could collaborate on cracking the enigma that was ‘Woman’, pooling together what used to be secret silos of information. 

But even despite Sh__’s obvious prejudice, I could see the sense of what he was saying.

Cannes was the second biggest film market in the World after the American Film Market.  Every year, anyone who was someone in the film business would pay pilgrimage to this palm-lined strip of the Riviera.

Stunning both Sh__ and P_, their mouths agape, I remember hearing myself say:

“You’re right Sh__.  I think we should be at Cannes too.”

The only problem was, Cannes opening night was tonight, and I was on the other side of the World.

To be continued…

Hi Everyone!

With the Cannes Film Festival approaching fast (13^th of May, less than a week away!) I have decided to do a few things for my readers (I have two of them now.)

1) I will devise a “Practical Tips” sheet for Cannes.  It will be written from the perspective of an emerging filmmaker trying to make it big.  Some of these practical tips have already been summarised for e-zine Screen Hub (www.screenhub.com.au) which should be coming out this Friday, May the 8^th, 2009.  The Screen Hub article gives a summarised version of these tips, along with summarised excerpts from my blog, but suffice to say, if you are patient, you will get the same info, and more, from reading my blog, only in “long form”.

2) I will fast-forward my blog to the events that led up to our attending the Cannes Film Festival.  I will try to catch up on the missing weeks between the process of co-writing the screenplay, submitting it, and flying to Cannes, at a later point.

3) I will also post an additional “Hot Tips” sheet, with all the nitty-gritty details on how to pull-off the handy hints mentioned in the Practical Tips sheet.  All the hot stuff that was too hot to print in Screenhub.

Cheers,

Y

AKA “Show the Love” AKA “Why Jax’s Blog is Better than Mine”

I just learned another lesson in life. I think I’ll call this lesson “A Practical Guide to Blogging.”

Last night I e-mailed out to a few friends that I was blogging.  I also e-mailed to a girl called Jasmine Lord because I had recently received a batch e-mail from a social networking site she had just subscribed to, inviting me to join it too (It wasn’t Facebook or Linked In, but sounded a lot like the latter.)

Anyway, she kindly wrote back and mentioned she too was blogging.  I visited her blog at http://www.jaxfilms.blogspot.com/ and suffice to say, I think it sh_ts all over mine.

As I sat and looked at it in admiration (actually I was wallowing in self-castigation at why mine wasn’t as good as hers), I tried to work out what it was about her blog that made is so much better than mine.

So here is a list of things that make Jax’s blog better than mine:

1) Jax reaches out from the outset.  She does not hide her identity like she is ashamed of what she is doing - nor should she.  She is after all just writing a fresh, honest blog about the things she loves doing.  In reaching out, Jax is sharing a part of herself with her audience. It is her “gift”. By “gift” I refer to a book written by Lewis Hyde (http://www.amazon.com/Gift-Creativity-Artist-Modern-Vintage/dp/0307279502 ) where Hyde likens making art to giving a gift.  It is a selfless or self-sacrificing act. Jax puts up a good photo of herself, presumably taken by a cine-friend of hers, and they are all really good at their job of lighting photos/sets and shooting images of people.  This leads me to another strength of Jax’s:-

2) Jax leads with her strengths - her fresh personality, her photos and her passions - working with great people on set, and learning new things about photography and her calling is what she truly loves and so…

3) You can really sense the love that Jax has for the things she’s writing and blogging about.

4) Jax mentions the things and people that inspire her.  It’s obviously not all about Jax.  She happily links away to people to give her reader a chance to understand better what it is that makes her tick.  There’s nothing forced about this.  If the reader doesn’t want to go to another website to see what Jax is raving about they don’t have to.  This addresses a “fear” I have with blogging.  I feel so small tapping out my little ditties and being swamped by the enormous babble in the blogosphere.  I feel like I am being outflanked by the next technology be it Twitter, Delicious, Technorati or Facebook/Linked In or whatever.  I frequently wonder “What’s the point” (and I’ve only been blogging regularly for two or three weeks now! Well OK, it was a fear that kept me from blogging for years.)  In her humble little way, and perhaps without realising it, Jax addresses how to deal with this issue.  Be open and honest about what it is you’re on about, and engage with the World.  Some of this is an issue of self-awareness.  Jax is very self-aware.  It is one of her strengths.  Being the nerd I am, I have a little bit of work to do on that front.  To summarise this point in brief though: “If you engage in the World with all your heart, then you will not be outflanked or swamped by it.  Instead, you will find you will easily hold your own, stay afloat, and perhaps, no, not perhaps, but DEFINITELY thrive.”

So thanks to Jax I have another blog entry.