Bringing VOD to the Dinner Table.

VOD won’t kill the theatrical release, but it may just help save independent filmmaking.

For the last decade, VOD has been the bastard cousin of theatrical and DVD distribution. Before the much-buzzed about HDNet day-and-date release of Soderbergh’s Bubble, the idea of on-demand television viewing was associated primarily with porn and boxing. Initially, the Bubble experiment put a bad aftertaste in the mouths of most theater owners and directors alike. Theater owners felt that a simultaneous release on pay-per-view and in theaters would be bad for their business, eroding revenues and further commoditizing the theatrical experience. Directors, blinded by the bright lights and spurious prestige of a theatrical release, saw VOD releases as dirty; a dumping ground for second-rate films from hack filmmakers.  No one took it seriously as a viable distribution outlet capable of wide viewership and a real rate of return.

Fast forward to 2011. VOD hasn’t completely lost its sleazy finish, but it getting close.  It’s picked up a number of supporters in the indie distribution world, and it may be their open armed embrace of the technology that has led to their survival.   The two most well known companies, Magnolia Pictures and IFC Entertainment, have partnerships with cable providers like Comcast allowing them to offer movies on branded V.O.D. channels on the same day they were released in theaters.  These companies believe that this strategy gives films a wider audience (and as a result, more opportunity for profit) than it would have with just a theatrical and DVD release. According to Geoff Gilmore, chief creative officer of Tribeca Enterprises: “Independent films are failing in the theatrical box office all over America right now — 80 per cent of them don’t make $100,000,” he said. “We have to find new ways of marketing this work that involves a range of different things that are not just the traditional theatrical system.”

This past year, Magnolia Pictures took things even further with its release of All Good Things.  Using what has been termed an Ultra VOD strategy; the film played on VOD first, and then rolled into theaters.  While the $20 million Ryan Gosling/Kristen Dunst thriller only made a paltry $644,535 theatrically worldwide, it performed spectacularly on V.O.D., selling over $5 million in rentals priced at about $10.99. Even some of the more mainstream “art house” distribs have taken note. Seven months ago, Focus Features launched its own VOD label, Focus World.  If a more conservative operation such as this is willing to take a chance it’s probably because they see some real potential to diversify their offerings with minimal risk.

Continuing this trend, Filmmaker magazine has started a VOD calendar that curates the top independent VOD releases each month.

So what does this mean?  Well, if you’re a progressive filmmaker not wedded to a traditional release strategy, it means you now have more opportunity to make money doing what you love to do.   The days of getting a wide theatrical release and a $20 million P&A commitment are over.  But imagine any Comcast or Verizon FIOs subscriber being just one click away (and perhaps $10.99) from your film. It’s much easier to sell a customer on an impulse purchase from the safety of their couch.  They don’t have to go anywhere.  And as more and more people get comfortable making purchases via their internet-enabled tv, potential profit margins will grow and grow.

Now I’m not suggesting that filmmaking should be all about the bottom line.  But it’s naïve to think that quality non-mainstream films will continue to get funded if they can’t offer any potential for profit. Art is a business just like any other and to be apathetic to that fact is just plain dumb. As technology continues to make the home viewing environment both more theatrical and more connected, the opportunity for a film to reach its audience at the quality in which it was intended is becoming a greater reality.

Watching "A Serious Man"

Rewatching A Serious Man last night two things struck me:

1- A Serious Man is a serious allegory with the underlying meaning being that...nothing has meaning.

The films opens with a reenactment of a Yiddish fable, in which a married couple is confronted with a dybbuk, a spirit of a local villager.  The rational husband refuses to believe that the old man standing before him is a spirit, while the seriously superstitious wife stabs the old man with an ice pick to prove to her husband that he's a ghost.  The old man laughs, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he has an icepick in his chest, but the mood changes as blood appears on the old man's clothing.  The old man stumbles back out into the cold snowy landscape, and disappears, leaving the audience feeling uneasy and confused.  Was he alive or was he a dybbuk? Like most things Jewish, the end is inconclusive: a perfect introduction for the parable that follows.  Similar to Goldilocks in the children's fairy tale, the film's protagonist Larry Gopnik visits three different rabbis looking for answers.  But unlike in the Goldilocks story, the rabbis all fail to answer his questions.  As unfortunate events pile up Larry's quest for meaning grows increasingly frantic.  By the end, some of the events have reached conclusions, while others remain ambiguous.  In the final scene, a hurricane sweeps into town, but the screen cuts to black before the results are known.  So what's the moral of this story? Like the story of the dybbuk, it's indeterminate.  Larry's struggle is representative of man's general struggle against the chaotic forces of the universe and the hapless search--through religion, science, mysticism, what have you---for meaning in the chaos.

2-A Serious Man is a comedy dressed as a horror movie.

Coen humor always centers around the quotidian lives of its grotesque characters.  In A Serious Man, this comedy becomes a serious, anxiety-ridden affair.  The Coen Bros imbue the gestures of each character with enormous portent, from the son's fingers drumming as he listens to music to Larry's hands fiddling with the antenna on his roof.  Every movement seems so deliberate and well thought out, increasing the tension with the skill and grace of a well-timed anxiety attack and leaving the audience on the edge of its seat, hands to chest in suspense.  But every time, this pent-up anxiety is for naught.  Just like Larry, the audience is fooled into thinking that the film's style will lead to substance--an attack, a surprise.  But these ultra-controlled movements, accentuated by the film's eerie and mysterious 4-note theme only lead to a big question mark.  And the audience, who have been waiting for answers to their anxiety and fear-laden questions--Will the son’s Walkman be discovered? What will the Larry's ear-test results be? Who was trying to sabotage his tenure hearings?  Will his brother get caught?--are left in the dark.  The mysteries of the universe are unknowable and uncontrollable, and the unfortunate series of events that causes Larry to try to uncover them is quintessential Coen humor.

What do you think? Do you agree that the film is this cynical?  I'd be interested to hear how people felt that religion and general jewishness was portrayed--endearingly, knowingly, derisively, etc.   Comments, critiques welcome!

Big Brother is Watching: Schamus' Speech @ LFF

Bucking current trends in industry keynote addresses, James Schamus, studio head of one of the sole surviving indie labels, Focus Features, delivered a speech entitled "Lessons in Storytelling From the Department of Homeland Security: An Anti-keynote Speech" in which he highlighted the government's use (or abuse) of information collected during online purchases. While I'm sure the speech raised a few attendees' eyebrows, it's an interesting and worrisome topic that I hope people like Schamus will continue to report on.

The technological shifts of the last decade have only made it easier for our government to track and follow our every move. How long will it be until any purchase of questionable literature or video is followed by a call from a Homeland Security officer? The intersection between art and government can sometimes produce great work (see Europe's various film funds) but more often than not is a negative force of censorship, manipulation and control. The thought of using someone's artistic predilections as a weapon is frightening at best and a legitimate and pertinent concern as more and more content is purchased and consumed via the web.

#LFF: Schamus Delivers Lessons in Redacted Storytelling