The Big Picture V: Take That!
After we got word that Dawn Steel was not willing to sell the picture we were pretty discouraged. Although we'd heard great feedback from the studio executives who'd seen the dailies and the rough cut at Columbia it was clear that Dawn was calling the shots and our film was not worth anyone's job. The studio film business is no different than any other- there are very few shirts in management willing to stick their necks out on a risky crusade. To be honest that group is not made up of creative geniuses, despite what they may believe. It used to be the bane of every writer and producer who got stuck in what we called 'development hell' when a script would be endlessly rewritten by career studio executives (mostly MBAs with a secret desire to have our jobs but no talent to actually have them) until the heart and soul had been leeched away. You only have to look at 80% of the films coming from the studios to know what I'm talking about. Big bucks, predictable stories (or story arcs as they are referred to in those hideous develoment meetings) and bankable stars who are taking as few risks as everyone else involved in these snoozers.
I once knew a writer who made the cover of several industry magazines for selling one of the first million dollar scripts in Hollywood and the film was hacked up so many times by the folks at Disney that it turned into a muddy mess and was never made.
Anyway, I digress. The Big Picture was near to completion and in good enough shape to start sending around to the various film festivals coming out in the new year. We started in earnest, almost with desperation because we knew we only had a short window to accomplish this - as soon as the last details were completed and the master print delivered we'd lose even the tenuous hold we had over its future. I'm pretty sure the studio didn't know what we were doing and when they found out it was too late.
To our immense relief the film was accepted to a couple of festivals almost immediately. Our biggest coup was Sundance, which had only a few days to view and jury the acceptance process because we were scrambling to finish a working print. We all flew out there in early February to prepare for the film's official debut, a show of force that included our star Kevin Bacon and his wife Kyra Sedgewick (expecting their first child at the time). We'd had no chance (or studio backing) to market the Sundance debut so we were going in blind. Sex Lies and Videotape was the big-ticket screening for the festival and marked James Spader's extraordinary film debut.
Arriving a few days early we skied, did the shmooze thing, and went to all the events we could fit in, waiting nervously for the upcoming screenings. I don't recall seeing a single executive from Columbia at Sundance officially supporting or endorsing the film so we were pretty much on our own. As the opening day drew near we heard to our relief that tickets were sold out for all our screenings (a good sign) and because it doesn't take long for the buzz to circulate in this small arena the press showed up for the opening in force.
It's an extraordinary thing to sit in the audience and watch something you've labored on so intensively and closely (even myopically) for so long. You see every flaw, the bad hair day on an actor, jokes that have lost their zip; you remember all the backstage haggling and drama behind every shot. Wasn't that a dip in the sound? That clock on the wall behind Kevin Bacon said two different times...who let that slip by.....you mouth all the words silently, nit pick and worry about everything, terrified that your underwear is showing and soon everyone will know what no-talent nincompoops you all are.
But amazingly enough the response during the screenings was really good. People laughed and smirked, got all the jokes, and paid close attention throughout and after the votes were tallied gave the film the Audience Award for Best Comedy. The last night of the festival we all took a celebratory drive out to a restaurant in the middle of a snowy landscape in the shadows of the Wasatch mountains where the last part of the journey was in a horse-drawn sleigh through moonlit trees laden with icicles. Relaxed and happy, we could finally start to enjoy our accomplishment, even though we still had no idea what was coming next. All we knew at that point was the film had made an impression on our peers, and hopefully good reviews would follow.
Next:
The reviews are out and we run for cover.
I once knew a writer who made the cover of several industry magazines for selling one of the first million dollar scripts in Hollywood and the film was hacked up so many times by the folks at Disney that it turned into a muddy mess and was never made.
Anyway, I digress. The Big Picture was near to completion and in good enough shape to start sending around to the various film festivals coming out in the new year. We started in earnest, almost with desperation because we knew we only had a short window to accomplish this - as soon as the last details were completed and the master print delivered we'd lose even the tenuous hold we had over its future. I'm pretty sure the studio didn't know what we were doing and when they found out it was too late.
To our immense relief the film was accepted to a couple of festivals almost immediately. Our biggest coup was Sundance, which had only a few days to view and jury the acceptance process because we were scrambling to finish a working print. We all flew out there in early February to prepare for the film's official debut, a show of force that included our star Kevin Bacon and his wife Kyra Sedgewick (expecting their first child at the time). We'd had no chance (or studio backing) to market the Sundance debut so we were going in blind. Sex Lies and Videotape was the big-ticket screening for the festival and marked James Spader's extraordinary film debut.
Arriving a few days early we skied, did the shmooze thing, and went to all the events we could fit in, waiting nervously for the upcoming screenings. I don't recall seeing a single executive from Columbia at Sundance officially supporting or endorsing the film so we were pretty much on our own. As the opening day drew near we heard to our relief that tickets were sold out for all our screenings (a good sign) and because it doesn't take long for the buzz to circulate in this small arena the press showed up for the opening in force.
It's an extraordinary thing to sit in the audience and watch something you've labored on so intensively and closely (even myopically) for so long. You see every flaw, the bad hair day on an actor, jokes that have lost their zip; you remember all the backstage haggling and drama behind every shot. Wasn't that a dip in the sound? That clock on the wall behind Kevin Bacon said two different times...who let that slip by.....you mouth all the words silently, nit pick and worry about everything, terrified that your underwear is showing and soon everyone will know what no-talent nincompoops you all are.
But amazingly enough the response during the screenings was really good. People laughed and smirked, got all the jokes, and paid close attention throughout and after the votes were tallied gave the film the Audience Award for Best Comedy. The last night of the festival we all took a celebratory drive out to a restaurant in the middle of a snowy landscape in the shadows of the Wasatch mountains where the last part of the journey was in a horse-drawn sleigh through moonlit trees laden with icicles. Relaxed and happy, we could finally start to enjoy our accomplishment, even though we still had no idea what was coming next. All we knew at that point was the film had made an impression on our peers, and hopefully good reviews would follow.
Next:
The reviews are out and we run for cover.
posted by vallie at 8:35 AM
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