Big Picture VI: I Think You're A Genius...
Sundance was over and we left our hotel rooms, got on a shuttle and headed back into reality. It was time to start the depressing process of wrapping up the production office and letting go the last of the office staff. I hate this part of making a film - the intimate friendships you have come to count on every day with your morning breakfast burrito (made to order by your catering truck, of course) evaporate as quickly as they formed. Most of us have learned to take it in stride but there is still a feeling of emptiness once the extraordinary focus and group-think energy has dissipated and you are left alone with an uncertain future, and another job to pound the pavement for.
It's just the way it is if you choose this career. But then again there is something of Einstein's equation in the process of making a film - energy can be released into matter and vice-versa. A film is a living example. Something real, tangible, and quantifiable comes from the expenditure of energy by a team of very talented people. And if it's a major success, you have the equivalent of nuclear fusion. That energy often translates into a career push for everyone involved and on and on the process goes.
For us the uncertainty of the film's future made it all the more difficult to let go of the tangible evidence that we'd actually done something together. It was a grey, rainy day to match our mood and we were cleaning out desks and saying goodbyes when we got a call that The Hollywood Reporter and Variety had reviewed the film so we rushed off to get copies. Both reviews were very good. They loved the dry humor, the frustrating inconsistencies of Hollywood's famous business, and the wicked lampooning of those in power. Later on Entertainment Magazine listed it in its cover story, "Oscars Too", giving Martin Short's line, "I don't know you, I don't know your work but you're a genius and I'm never wrong about these things", the award for the funniest line in a movie for that year.
We were ecstatic about the press and congratulatory calls were coming in from around town. All except Columbia's executive offices. Michael Varhol wanted to call Dawn but there was fear that it would sound like gloating. But as the producer it was up to him to push for a good opening schedule, maximized theatre numbers, and a decent publicity campaign. We all thought, given the reviews that she would give in to better business sense and use the momentum to get a return on her investment.
We thought wrong.
Columbia basically shut us out of the process once the master was delivered and we were kept in the dark about the specifics of the release. We had been consulted on the posters and ad sheets, but had no idea about much else. As weeks turned into months we realized that despite numerous calls (then pleas) for improved release strategy we found out only after the fact what had happened.
And this is, once again, hearsay, as we were not present in the negotiations, but we were told by an inside source that The Big Picture was attached as a 'bonus' to the release of another Columbia film. Sold as a package, as it were. The theatres would get Blockbuster Movie A on the condition they release our film for one week. Yes, that's right. One week. It was a closed schedule with no possibility for extension.
And so sometime later that year, The Big Picture opened for a week in a Westwood theatre with little fanfare. Certain death for a small film like ours requiring word of mouth to build a decent audience and garner wider critical attention. After the week it sank out of sight, a wisp of surprise, a collective gasp of dismay, and then like any good Hollywood story, never to have lunch in this town again.
It was a smart, calculated move on Dawn Steel's part. In my opinion she knew that if she didn't release it at all the rumors would fly and force her hand. It would become a mystery, a legend, and one day she would be held accountable for hiding it away. But box office draw is king around here and the disappointing numbers for this quiet release were enough to justify a the studio's decision to pull it (but again we were told that it never had more than a week in the release schedule anyway). She had finally fulfilled her own prophecy that the movie would be a box-office dud.
But wait......There is good news. Oh, yes, good news for this bit of energy converted into a clever little bomb. Even though it disappeared in Los Angeles, smaller art house theatres around the country, especially San Francisco and New York, kept the film running and the word of mouth did grow, bringing with it a measurable audience. In San Francisco I heard the film ran for almost two months..... a success in Hollywood terms where films come and go within a few weeks.
I was sure no-one outside Hollywood would ever know about this film, and that was really sad. But in subsequent months I would be surprised by how widely it had been viewed. Most gratifying was how many people outside the business appreciated the humor and found the commonality in the struggles of a young professional to be successful without losing sight of their values. Then the calls started coming for our team to appear at film schools, and when we would arrive the students would cluster around us practically genuflecting they were so excited...even awed. They'd all seen the film several times and could recite entire scenes from memory. It was gratifying to have this small measure of appreciation and we took it where we could.
In retrospect, The Big Picture was the first of a new wave of intelligent, satirical films about the business of making movies (The Player and Swimming With Sharks followed). And it was the start of Chris Guest's creative voice as he grew from a talented comedic actor to writer/director of films that have forged a new genre: the 'mockumentary'. Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show and A Mighty Wind continue on the tradition begun with The Big Picture as biting commentary on the self-important isolation of entertainers and competitors of all kinds. Chris has achieved, despite Dawn Steele's grave predictions, his due of respect and success.
So this is the end of my story, folks. On this film anyway. But the postscript is a good one: The Big Picture is now considered a cult film with underground hit status thanks to cable television and the Independent Features Channel which plays it regularly (I know because I get residual checks for my 'big' role). You can still rent the film at video stores and recently the DVD version was released. There was one other unexpected, joyful surprise as the film found its way into the hearts of the critics: A few years ago, a scene from the film was in the opening montage of the Oscars celebrating 75 years of movie magic. I was at a party when the scene appeared catching me by surprise and I started screaming at the top of my lungs....it was quite a moment. The movie may have tanked in Los Angeles but the audience for the Oscars is about 1 billion people worldwide. Way to go, Big Picture!!
Oh, and here's an exclusive: there is one item The Big Picture DVD doesn't contain in its "special features" section. I have what may be the only existing copy of the behind-the-scenes documentary I produced (directed by a friend and screenwriter, Doug Richardson), which I never made it over to Columbia at the completion of production. It has never-before seen interviews with Teri Hatcher, Fran Drescher, Chris Guest, Kevin Bacon, and Jennifer Jason Leigh, among others.
It's my ace in the hole. When I'm ninety and they want to do a retrospective on the greatest comedies of the 20th Century, I'll be there when it has its worldwide debut.
Maybe I'll invite Chris Guest.
It's just the way it is if you choose this career. But then again there is something of Einstein's equation in the process of making a film - energy can be released into matter and vice-versa. A film is a living example. Something real, tangible, and quantifiable comes from the expenditure of energy by a team of very talented people. And if it's a major success, you have the equivalent of nuclear fusion. That energy often translates into a career push for everyone involved and on and on the process goes.
For us the uncertainty of the film's future made it all the more difficult to let go of the tangible evidence that we'd actually done something together. It was a grey, rainy day to match our mood and we were cleaning out desks and saying goodbyes when we got a call that The Hollywood Reporter and Variety had reviewed the film so we rushed off to get copies. Both reviews were very good. They loved the dry humor, the frustrating inconsistencies of Hollywood's famous business, and the wicked lampooning of those in power. Later on Entertainment Magazine listed it in its cover story, "Oscars Too", giving Martin Short's line, "I don't know you, I don't know your work but you're a genius and I'm never wrong about these things", the award for the funniest line in a movie for that year.
We were ecstatic about the press and congratulatory calls were coming in from around town. All except Columbia's executive offices. Michael Varhol wanted to call Dawn but there was fear that it would sound like gloating. But as the producer it was up to him to push for a good opening schedule, maximized theatre numbers, and a decent publicity campaign. We all thought, given the reviews that she would give in to better business sense and use the momentum to get a return on her investment.
We thought wrong.
Columbia basically shut us out of the process once the master was delivered and we were kept in the dark about the specifics of the release. We had been consulted on the posters and ad sheets, but had no idea about much else. As weeks turned into months we realized that despite numerous calls (then pleas) for improved release strategy we found out only after the fact what had happened.
And this is, once again, hearsay, as we were not present in the negotiations, but we were told by an inside source that The Big Picture was attached as a 'bonus' to the release of another Columbia film. Sold as a package, as it were. The theatres would get Blockbuster Movie A on the condition they release our film for one week. Yes, that's right. One week. It was a closed schedule with no possibility for extension.
And so sometime later that year, The Big Picture opened for a week in a Westwood theatre with little fanfare. Certain death for a small film like ours requiring word of mouth to build a decent audience and garner wider critical attention. After the week it sank out of sight, a wisp of surprise, a collective gasp of dismay, and then like any good Hollywood story, never to have lunch in this town again.
It was a smart, calculated move on Dawn Steel's part. In my opinion she knew that if she didn't release it at all the rumors would fly and force her hand. It would become a mystery, a legend, and one day she would be held accountable for hiding it away. But box office draw is king around here and the disappointing numbers for this quiet release were enough to justify a the studio's decision to pull it (but again we were told that it never had more than a week in the release schedule anyway). She had finally fulfilled her own prophecy that the movie would be a box-office dud.
But wait......There is good news. Oh, yes, good news for this bit of energy converted into a clever little bomb. Even though it disappeared in Los Angeles, smaller art house theatres around the country, especially San Francisco and New York, kept the film running and the word of mouth did grow, bringing with it a measurable audience. In San Francisco I heard the film ran for almost two months..... a success in Hollywood terms where films come and go within a few weeks.
I was sure no-one outside Hollywood would ever know about this film, and that was really sad. But in subsequent months I would be surprised by how widely it had been viewed. Most gratifying was how many people outside the business appreciated the humor and found the commonality in the struggles of a young professional to be successful without losing sight of their values. Then the calls started coming for our team to appear at film schools, and when we would arrive the students would cluster around us practically genuflecting they were so excited...even awed. They'd all seen the film several times and could recite entire scenes from memory. It was gratifying to have this small measure of appreciation and we took it where we could.
In retrospect, The Big Picture was the first of a new wave of intelligent, satirical films about the business of making movies (The Player and Swimming With Sharks followed). And it was the start of Chris Guest's creative voice as he grew from a talented comedic actor to writer/director of films that have forged a new genre: the 'mockumentary'. Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show and A Mighty Wind continue on the tradition begun with The Big Picture as biting commentary on the self-important isolation of entertainers and competitors of all kinds. Chris has achieved, despite Dawn Steele's grave predictions, his due of respect and success.
So this is the end of my story, folks. On this film anyway. But the postscript is a good one: The Big Picture is now considered a cult film with underground hit status thanks to cable television and the Independent Features Channel which plays it regularly (I know because I get residual checks for my 'big' role). You can still rent the film at video stores and recently the DVD version was released. There was one other unexpected, joyful surprise as the film found its way into the hearts of the critics: A few years ago, a scene from the film was in the opening montage of the Oscars celebrating 75 years of movie magic. I was at a party when the scene appeared catching me by surprise and I started screaming at the top of my lungs....it was quite a moment. The movie may have tanked in Los Angeles but the audience for the Oscars is about 1 billion people worldwide. Way to go, Big Picture!!
Oh, and here's an exclusive: there is one item The Big Picture DVD doesn't contain in its "special features" section. I have what may be the only existing copy of the behind-the-scenes documentary I produced (directed by a friend and screenwriter, Doug Richardson), which I never made it over to Columbia at the completion of production. It has never-before seen interviews with Teri Hatcher, Fran Drescher, Chris Guest, Kevin Bacon, and Jennifer Jason Leigh, among others.
It's my ace in the hole. When I'm ninety and they want to do a retrospective on the greatest comedies of the 20th Century, I'll be there when it has its worldwide debut.
Maybe I'll invite Chris Guest.
posted by vallie at 8:38 AM
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