skimmed to realistic – nay, ascetic – levels. Casting sessions are held and momentum is desperately clung to. Hard work all of it, and all of it trumped by the producer’s real graft: endless, countless phone calls. To agents for their actors, and to actors to convince them of the worth of the project. To locations, to heads of department, to the people with the money. These phone calls involve many little white lies and optimistic predictions, both equally necessary to greasing the wheels and keeping things in motion, because filmmaking is a business of catch-22s (no actors without money, no money without actors, no distribution prospects without a packaged project, and a project impossible to package without distribution guaranteed – the list goes on). Ultimately, this is what a producer does: it’s their job to untangle those catch-22s, and make – things – happen.
completely bypass all of these, and set out their stalls as producers from the get-go, making short films, music videos, viral videos, wedding videos – anything – to pay the bills and build a track record. Working for yourself is a high-risk and uncertain gamble. Working for someone else can find you trapped, relying on a job you originally thought would only be temporary, and watching other, more daring peers overtake you. No matter what route they take, however, all of these people become producers at the exact same point: when they find a script or director – or both, they fall in love, and decide to make a movie. And at that point, all of these fledgling producers end up in the same situation: at home, or in office space they’re paying through the nose to rent, or staying late at their day job desk; their gambling instinct telling them this is it, this is the project I will produce. The day-to-day job, from then on, is straightforward. Hours of developing a script mixed with hours of breaking it down to budget it, followed by hours of breaking down the budget into a schedule. Budget and schedule are re-done over and over again, trimmed and
It’s one of the most / allconsuming jobs anyone could choose, and it’s a constant testament to the magic of the movies that so many do. Many times you’ve sunk your own money into the project, watching it slip through your fingers like water as the days go by. Even if you haven’t, you reach the point where every waking – and unpaid – hour is spent at the Sisyphus-like task of getting a movie off the ground. The reality is that everyone, even the director, can walk anyway anytime, but the producer can’t. The producer sinks or swims with his film. If you pull it off, and the film gets made, and enough people see it, the great thing is you might just be allowed to do it all over again. It could be a little easier the second time around (you may have more access to stars or money), or it could be much harder. You start from scratch – or worse: reputations don’t erase themselves – every time. Ultimately, this day-to-day life is perhaps best described by Bruce Paltrow, producer in his own right. “It’s a prizefight. Get off the stool, take your beating, go back to your corner, rest, and take a beating again. Believe in your own talent.” And sooner or later, you might just win a round or two. text: Walter Nichols
Illustration: Jack Lee
25