Since it's a Saturday, work is basically a dead zone. It's me, CSPAN, and a pot of coffee. Just the way I like it. The cleaning service is convinced we are secretly running a pirate radio station, and I cannot deny their claims.
My sister REL gave me a call to catch up; since she is more of a texter than an e-mailer and I am largely phone-phobic, our contact is highly sporadic. She mainly calls me when she reads math or science books and then asks me to send her more of my fiction; this has been a bit of a dry period since I've been working on longer projects, like Unidentified Objects (a feature film) and the Unnamed Digby Manscript which takes forever to write (on the grounds of being epic-scale historical fiction with urban fantasy elements throughout). I should probably dash off something short just so I can feel as though I'm getting things done - just so I can satisfy my many (perhaps as many as five) fans.
I think without noticing it I have fallen into a bad headspace regarding filmmaking. That headspace can be summed up in two words: production value. One of the nice things about writing is that I am on a relatively even playing field when submitting a manuscript; my typed pages look identical to anyone else's typed pages. In film, money makes it onto the screen. I'm good at making things look expensive; I can make a $5000 film that looks better than anybody else's $20,000 film. I cannot, however, make a $200 film look like a $24 million film, even though I know how to make a $24 million film, and even though I might have more talent behind my $200 film. I also can't put the same marketing and PR push behind a $200 film, nor can I trust audiences to know the difference between "that was carefully done" and "that was expensively done." Even to festivals, money is sexy. It is a sign that a film is relevant, rather than a sign that the filmmaker knew somebody with money.
It's easy to get broken down by that, especially with distribution channels that are the way they are.
I just have to hold on and remember that films like Clerks and Once found people who watched them and loved them (not to mention that delightful madman John Waters), and that my low budgets make it possible to turn profits on internet distribution or screenings in a single theater. It's not even about new media so much as returning to the old school, when independent filmmaking was genuinely independent and not mini-Hollywood. I'm pretty sure that when Truffaut and Godard filmed in their friends' backyards and then dubbed all the sound because the cameras were too noisy, they didn't expect that many eyes to see the results.
What I really need is a friend who owns a decent-sized space and a projector. And for god's sake, I need unrestricted access to a video camera that isn't my cell phone. It's absurd to have lighting equipment, an editing suite, a tripod, and no camera. It's one of those problems where I know enough about both cameras and money that I am paralysed by the choice map. What I'd like is a $400 camera that shoots 1080p and gives me control over white balance, gain, and exposure. Some optical zoom would be nice, as would low-light performance and control over focus. Whether such a camera exists, I cannot say. I suspect not. I should probably stop moaning and go with something cheap and lo-fi like the Flip.
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