The Animation Options Blog

“Human beings are troubled with the opinions (dogmata) they have of things, and not by the things themselves (pragmata).” - Epictetus

Recently, a young animator posted the following question on the Animation Nation bulletin board:

I am wondering, if there is a really famous artist coming into your studio to give a talk on animation - when I say famous, I mean really famous - is it really a good idea to show them your portfolio and try to make contacts, especially when you just came out from school and started all new and fresh in the studio? I have been trying hard to learn “networking” like everyone tells me to. But I find it sometimes embarassing to try to show your portfolio to these great artists. They are all nice people, but there are zillions of people like me who want to show them their work, and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable since they are all so busy. And I also feel doing so kind of makes them feel I want to get a job from them, when I actually just want to show my work and like to know what they think, and yeah, probably get some contacts? And plus, they are so famous, who would pay attention to me who just came out?

My advice was rather pointed:

Just walk up at the end of the talk, introduce yourself, and pay them a compliment. Make it short and sweet, and then get the hell out of the way so the next person has a moment. Nothing is worse (for everyone, including the invited artist) than someone trying to glom on with their portfolio at a public event. It’s desperate and pathetic. And if you were pulling that at a studio under my employ, your @ss would be out the door so fast, your head would spin!

The poor kid said that I “scared” him… which was exactly my intention - not to be cruel, but to hopefully dissuade him from making the common mistake that so many do when it comes to networking.

Networking is about RELATIONSHIPS, not about glomming on to big names. It’s about creating and maintaining personal connections, and it’s ironically most meaningful and effective when you don’t want anything. Nevertheless, so many people embarrass themselves and exhaust the goodwill of others by swarming at public events: “gnatworking”, I call it.

The animator who asked the question above actually has the answers already. He knows that the artist is extremely busy, he knows that he’s one of many people who want a piece of the artist’s time, and he’s aware of the uncomfortable “grasping” impression that his portfolio flapping could give. Yet he can’t help himself.

Now most individuals approached in these situations will be extremely nice and accommodating. (I always am - spending a great amount of time after speaking engagements looking at portfolios and laptops.) But I can tell you from experience that nothing is more appreciated than when someone introduces themself, says a few words, hands over a business card or a DVD, and then moves along. You don’t want to get on someone’s “life-is-too-short” list, especially when they’re coming off a long presentation, trying to make sure that they don’t leave anything behind at the podium, and hoping to find the nearest bathroom.

Beyond introducing yourself and offering a leave-behind, there’s nothing you have to show in that moment that can’t wait until later. It’s not as though the artist in question is going to see your work, have their mind blown, and helicopter you off to their secret volcano studio. If it’s feedback you’re after, you can get it via email if the artist is so inclined. And if it’s a job you’re after, handing over a demo reel or providing the URL of an online portfolio will do just fine. In fact, you may be barking up the wrong tree altogether - especially with the “famous” artists who often aren’t the ones who can (or will) help you. And in a workplace situation, you certainly run the risk of making a treasonous impression on your current boss by showing your portfolio to an invited guest - especially if they are trying to scrape you off of their leg so they can get to your employer’s catered lunch.

So, back to our animator’s question. Permit me to embellish on my blunt forum response with these additional suggestions:

1.) During the Q&A segment of an artist’s presentation, ask the following question: “I’m sure that there will be many questions about this great presentation that you won’t have time to answer here. Could we please have your email address so that we may correspond with you at your convenience?” This will accomplish two (potentially three) things: one - your fellow attendees will love you for asking, two - whether or not the artist provides their email will tell you something about the type of person they are, and three - if they consent, you’ll have their contact information. And once you have it, don’t abuse it! Keep your inquiries short and sweet, and don’t pester if replies are not forthcoming. People are busy. (For what it’s worth, I always include my email address at the end of every seminar, lecture or presentation. It’s a good habit for speakers to acquire.)

2.) If you REALLY must show the artist in question a sample of your work in the moment, then you might try the following (rather cheesy) idea: do a great drawing of the artist, sign it with your email address, and write something along the lines of “To _______________, thank you for being such an inspiration to me!” Keep it small, frame it, and hand it to the artist at the end of their presentation. In short, make it easy for them NOT to throw it away. I once gave Ray Harryhausen a signed & dedicated copy of my independent animated short “Henry’s Garden” as he was signing a copy of his compilation DVD for me. I’m sure he probably tossed the disc, but it doesn’t matter. He truly is an inspiration to me, and I wanted him to have it. And of course, Ray was very nice about it.

3.) The “gold standard” of networking: LUNCH. You may not get that “famous artist” to meet with you (due either to limited time or limited inclination), but you never know unless you ask. Email an invitation, ask them to name a time and place at THEIR convenience, and be sure to tell them that it’s on you. I make it a point to lunch with one or two people a week, on every link of the animation food chain - from production assistants to CEOs (NOTE: not only “famous artists”, but also current and future movers and shakers). The information, connections and opportunities that I’ve acquired in exchange for plates of pasta has been invaluable.

4.) Get on a professional networking site. I prefer LinkedIn, and have received many productive leads from my active utilization of it. Relevant niche sites include vfxConnection, but I find LinkedIn to be the most comprehensive. It’s all too easy to get sucked into maintaining redundant profiles on multiple sites, so choose carefully. And keep in mind what the point is. You don’t want to abuse the service by connecting with strangers in a desperate (or arrogant) bid to hoard connections for connections sake - like Scrat stroking his nuts in “Ice Age”. You see this from time to time online, with some individuals proudly wearing their obsession like a mantle: “Johnny Blowhard, The LinkedIn Lizard King: 6000+ Connections!” Whatever, dude.

5.) Be helpful. Do things for others, for no apparent reason other than to be colleagial. The good karma will come back around to you from unexpected directions, in ways that you cannot anticipate but you will definitely appreciate.

In short, remember that networking is not about making contacts, it’s about building relationships. So, go ahead and drop me a line! I’ll be happy to hear from you.

Kevin Geiger
Animation Options LLC
kevingeiger@animationoptions.com

I know from painful experience how important story is. I’ve wrestled with my own indie efforts. I’ve worked on feature films that began production on weak stories, as well as those that (more tragically) noodled good stories to death. And I’ve also worked on feature films that went into production with only an Act 1 in place to “feed the machine” - which is a lot like building the front of a car while you’re still designing the back. At the risk of stating the obvious, you absolutely do NOT want to turn on the flow of your pre-production spigot before you have a completed feature script that you are happy with. Story is indeed king, so if your script is uncompelling (or non-existent), then keep at it until it works. And better to do so unaccompanied by the crackle of burning cash.

The generic feature film production schedule on the Animation Options “Resources” page picks up from the point of a finished script, providing half a year to develop storyboards & animatic, and refine the script accordingly (theme, story, character arcs, emotional throughline, gags, etc). Two subsequent points are included for re-assessment (you can have more), and these are both tied to public test screenings. In fact, subsequent story development must ALWAYS be tied to objective test screenings. The reason that this schedule does not facilitate a continual stream of story development is that such typically leads to insular noodling by filmmakers and/or executives who lose sight of what’s working after seeing it too many times - or who think they know what works without checking in with the intended audience. This is not to advocate the fantasy of a “locked script”, but rather to discourage self-indulgent “churn & burn”.

Unvalidated noodling (ie. - incessant tweaking not tied to audience feedback) not only weakens your story, but it wreaks havoc with your production schedule. Animation Options specializes in devising production workflows and pipelines that can accommodate late story changes, but it is still essential to tie those changes to objective feedback from the targeted demographic. Why make revisions based on what you think an audience will respond to, when you can see for yourself?

Of related importance is getting your story idea in front of distributors to see if you have a winner in their eyes. In short: once you finish your film, will anyone want to distribute it? Or are you stuck begging for “table scraps” on the film festival circuit? The AO “Independent Animated Feature Film Development & Production Plan” addresses these aspects and more, in order. This plan is based upon personal experience and collective wisdom, so take it for what it’s worth.

Happy storytelling!

There are three core principles that are essential to any fair and balanced negotiation:

• “Same side of the table” interaction
• A “universal approach” to deal making
• Weighing the deal to the project

“Same side of the table” interaction means putting the project first, and negotiating in good faith toward this common objective.

Taking the “universal approach” means looking at the deal without preference to a single party, conscientiously considering all parties’ points of view, and then negotiating fair terms for each participant.

“Weighing the deal to the project” assesses compensation against the business value of the project, and casts an informative light on the deal making.

The earnest application of these principles maintains integrity and strengthens relationships, with all parties participating in the spirit of fair play and common good. This sets a cooperative tone that permeates the project and positively influences a successful result. However, this spirit may be undone very quickly when one or both parties are more concerned with what they want to get than what they need to do.

Enlightened executives, producers, artists and technicians understand that they sink or swim together. They also understand that all contributions, while not necessarily “equal”, are absolutely essential. At your next negotiation, before getting into specific terms and conditions, take a few minutes to discuss these core principles with the other party, and pledge to proceed with them in mind.

You just might be surprised at how well things go.

Don’t start your independent animated feature film without a review of this handy checklist covering the business of formation, development, production & post-production.

Nota bene the importance pitching your film project to distributors early on, and conducting test audience screenings prior to release.

There’s an old adage, which definitely runs true in Hollywood, that “Nothing happens until somebody sells something.” Nevertheless, some independent filmmakers seem to maintain an almost willful disregard for distribution. As middlemen between the filmmaker and the audience, motion picture distributors are usually viewed in the most charitable cases as a necessary evil. In my presentation of last year, “Your Grassroots Are Showing”, I myself made the case for how mobile media is revolutionizing the ability of content creators to directly engage their audiences. However, the fact remains that for theatrical motion picture releases, distributors perform a critical and complex function that remains essential to the business of filmmaking.

Of all the major participant categories in the film industry, the most important - and hopefully the most obvious - is the audience. I say “hopefully” because it is remarkable how many independent film industry professionals fail to take their potential audience into account as they proceed with the development and production of their movies (such as my hapless colleagues in the earlier blog entry “Beta Sooner Than Later”).

The second-most important participant category in the film industry is, of course, the distributor. Why? Well, in short - audiences pay to watch a producer’s film, which the distributor motivates an interest in. A good distributor is a combination salesperson, negotiator, storyteller, and most importantly - has keen instincts for matching content with consumers. Motion picture distributors address a complex array of activities such as booking venues on the theater circuit, negotiating favorable screens and film rental terms with exhibitors, staging the physical distribution of the film, and settling up with the exhibitors as the film runs its course.

The most important activity, however, is the shaping of public opinion of the film through advertising and promotion. In essence, the distributor “brands” the film, heightening audience impressions and ensuring that aggregate media buys reach a critical mass. Distributors weigh almost 75% of their interest in a film towards “campaign integrity” and only 25% towards “entertainment value”. While this ratio may raise hairs on the back of most filmmakers, it is simply a pragmatic response to the fact that a good opening weekend is the foundation upon which successive income is typically predicated.

Accordingly, independent producers would do well to pitch their films to distributors with a complete and realistic sense of the audience in mind, including demographic appeal and projected gross receipts. In order to evaluate a film as a feasible prospect, the distributor must see a potential net income-to-cost ratio of at least 2:1, once the exhibitors have taken their cut. Experienced distributors look for a hook, a “unique-yet-familiar” story line, the genre and its associated demographic, name recognition and popularity of attached talent (if any), the producer’s & director’s track records, alternate media tie-ins (such as popular books, comics and games), and attached money (if any).

Contrary to some popular advice, distributors prefer not to consider complete films, which are not usually marketable enough to warrant the investment of their time and money. While a finished film can certainly provide compelling evidence of why a distributor should consider acquiring a film, it more often than not provides compelling evidence of why they should pass… even on films they may personally like. It all comes down to salability. So one would think that before a filmmaker poured their talent and resources into a film, they would contact compatible distributors early on in development, to find out if they were interested in the filmmaker’s vision of the picture, and to get advice on marketability while the film is still being formed.

One would think… and yet so many independent film producers are content to play “craps” on the festival circuit (literally and figuratively), with the hubris that, “We’re making our movie no matter what, and we’ll tour it at the festivals until it’s sold!” Referred to in the business as “renegade pictures”, these films are produced independently on spec, and often without studio knowledge, until they hit the fests.

The Producer’s Business Handbook notes that at Sundance 2004, out of more than 2600 submissions, approximately 120 films were screened, with around a dozen subsequent distributor pickups. So the independent filmmaker who is relying on the “payoff” of this big event is generally looking at a less than a 1% chance that their film will be sold before they settle the mini-bar tab at their lodgings in Park City.

Of course, as folks are quick to point out, there are exceptions. Indeed, there are always exceptions. But exceptions are referred to as exceptions because they are exceptional. And do you really want the basis of your film’s business plan to rely upon exceptional circumstances? Especially when your skin, and that of your investors, is in the game? Production is a Pyrrhic victory without the exposure and profits associated with distribution, unless you are happy to project your film onto the back of a club in Santa Monica, to the enthusiastic honking of your family, friends and crew.

So, independent producers should ally their film early on with a compatible distributor. It is very wise for the producer to meet with studios & distributors before the film is started, in order to see if their idea is marketable. Otherwise, the producer could have a finished film that nobody wants to distribute. Studios will only deal with films that they think will make money, regardless of how impressive the film is artistically. In the best case, the filmmaker’s vision combines with the distributor’s insight to increase the odds of audience appreciation and ultimate profit.

The American Film Market, held in Santa Monica each November, is one of the key markets for developing and completed films. (Cannes is the other, but has more of a promotional focus while the business of AFM is primarily sales.) The AFM website has a great online primer for independent filmmakers on how to “work” the annual event for increased chances of success - a must read for anyone serious about their independent film.

Following are three of the major types of distributor deals. Note that it is arguably more accurate to think of the major movie studios as distribution companies that happen to also produce films, rather than as production companies that happen to also distribute films (I’ll probably get mail on this).

IN-HOUSE STUDIO PRODUCTION:

The producer provides the story, development and final delivery of the film. The studio provides development & production support, financing & business resources, and distribution resources. The producer receives a fee and perhaps some profit participation, but the studio owns the film entirely, and has creative control.

NEGATIVE PICKUP:
The producer provides the story, development, financing and final delivery of the film. The studio provides development & production support, business resources, and distribution resources. The studio receives a distribution fee and profit participation, and has distribution rights. But the producer owns the film, and has creative control (although the studio may maintain right of final cut).

DISTRIBUTION ONLY:

The producer provides a finished film. The studio provides distribution only (hence the clever title). The producer retains complete creative and distribution rights. Distribution rights are “licensed” to the studio in exchange for a licensing fee paid to the producer.

In-house studio production is often quite acceptable for producers who have the know-how to make a film, but lack the resources. However, the producer typically gives up all rights in exchange for those resources. At the other end, “distribution only” allows the producer to retain all rights, but “only” offers distribution resources in return. This is the most powerful relationship for the independent producer, but requires them to produce an entire film on their own. (Negative pickups, distribution agreements and presales can, of course, be used as collateral on bank loans for financing.)

So, to sum up: don’t disregard distribution! If the business plan for your film does not substantively address distribution early in your development cycle, you’re working like The Little Rascals: putting on a show in the barn for the troops. You want more than that, don’t you? If your goal is simply “to raise money for our film” or “to make our film”, then by all means, disregard distribution. But if your goal is to create and release your film, then start researching compatible distributors as soon as you have your internal greenlight. If you don’t know where to begin, get a copy of the 2008 Hollywood Distribution Directory. Start doing your homework as you prepare a clear-eyed and compelling distribution pitch for your film with November’s American Film Market in mind.

Do right by yourself as you work on the “show”… by addressing the “business”.

There is an old Yiddish proverb that holds, “Borrowed brains have no value.” However, the American President Woodrow Wilson asserted, “I not only use all the brains I have, but all I can borrow.” When it comes to production, it’s my experience that you can’t go wrong following Wilson’s example.

Given the sheer quantity, magnitude and complexity of creative & technical issues that contemporary production crews are faced with - LEVERAGE is the order of the day. The most effective leader is not the individual who “knows everything” (or more likely, thinks they do), but the individual who serves as a hub around which collaborating talents revolve.

I recall a lunch conversation with a highly regarded producer who confided to me, “I didn’t graduate from Harvard or M.I.T., but I employ the people who did – and I value their contributions. I wouldn’t be where I am without them.”

As a leader, are you leveraging your brain upon the “borrowed brains” of your team?

What do you value more: the glory of being a “hero”, or the results of being a hub?

Mitt Romney came with an impressive resume. The former venture capitalist, 2002 Winter Olympic Games chief and Massachusetts state governor was on top of the issues, had formidable financial and political resources, and was the toast of Washington lawyers and lobbyists.

And yesterday, he announced his withdrawal from the 2008 U.S. presidential campaign.

Why? Because his accumulated primary delegate count was woefully and undeniably inadequate to attain the Republican party’s nomination. And why? Because despite his gifts and his resources, Mitt Romney failed to resonate with the voting public. He failed to deliver a clear message, and he failed to inspire trust.

There is a lesson here. In business as in politics as in life, resonance and gravity are critical. Trustworthiness and the ability to inspire are essential. Talent and material resources are required, make no mistake. But when push comes to shove, clients and employees are more likely to “push” for someone they trust - someone whose demeanor, words and actions resonate with them – than someone who merely has a good pedigree.

In your business dealings, do you equivocate… or do you resonate?

P.S. - In the interest of full disclosure, and in the spirit of resonance, I voted for Barack Obama in the California primary.

Are your production “wheels” balanced?

Download and print the balance booklet PDF from the Animation Options resources page, and take a moment to rate your production environment according to the categories provided. Connect your rankings with a continuous line, and take a look. Do you see a nice, big healthy round shape… or a lopsided little chunk?

Now have members of your team do the same, and cross-reference the results. Are there any surprises or discrepancies?

See anything you’d care to discuss with Animation Options?

I remember some pretty hard-core winters growing up as a boy in Cleveland, Ohio: the kind where giant snow drifts sealed our doors shut and torpedo-sized icicles hung ominously from the gutters overhead. Our heating bills were enough to make a grown man cry, and my father came close on more than one occasion. But he had resigned himself to the “reality” of our situation: we had taken reasonable steps to weatherproof the house, winters were a bear, heat was expensive, and that was that. Still, the Blizzard of 1977 was like nothing we had ever seen.

One morning as we were shoveling out, our next-door neighbor mentioned an assessment he had from a home energy consultant. My father was skeptical to say the least. “Last thing I need is some yahoo stopping by to tell me that Cleveland is cold in the winter, and then charging me for it!” he grumbled while chipping away at the icy sidewalk. Our neighbor laughed, and explained that the consultant not only conducted a thorough evaluation, but also had devised a practical energy saving plan that was custom-tailored to his home. And when he mentioned that his heating bills had been reduced by a third as a result, my dad’s financial interest was sufficiently piqued to schedule a consultation for our own home.

The result, in our case, was even more dramatic than our neighbor’s. The consultant arrived and asked a number of questions - not directly related to “energy” as one might assume, but instead to our daily use of the home. He then went through our house methodically from top to bottom, before sitting down with my dad to provide his assessment. “Mr. Geiger”, he said, “the aggregate energy leakage of your home from various sources is comparable to leaving the front door wide open all day and night.” My father’s mouth hung open. “The good news”, the consultant continued, “is that this situation can be remedied through a plan of simple steps that I have outlined for you, and may be addressed on your own within a couple of days.”

The home energy consultant reviewed the list of steps with my dad, and we spent the following weekend addressing the items one by one (you can imagine my joy): adding more insulation to the attic, replacing eroded weather-stripping, hanging a door to enclose the foyer, fixing a broken chimney vent, re-glazing a cracked basement window, making minor adjustments to our thermostat, and talking to my brothers about closing the door while they changed their boots.

The frigid weather continued, and a few weeks later our new heating bill arrived. My dad yelped, and we all ran for cover. But it was good news: our monthly charges had been reduced by half! The savings continued throughout the winter: paying for the consultant and the improvements, and from then on “insulating” my dad’s pocket. A fixed investment had produced significant, ongoing returns.

Our family “reward” – the ill-fated camping trip spent playing Monopoly in a rain-soaked trailer the following spring – is another story.