Predication about the immediate future of the film industry is a lot like watching a pack of ten-year-olds go careening through a round of bumper cars. Lots of theories and ideas are whizzing around out there, wildly colliding into each other until somebody gets a case of whiplash.

Take for example Hollywood’s war with Netflix. Hollywood hates Netflix because… well, didn’t Netflix have something to do with the Fall from Grace (or was that Apple)? OK, the rapid success of the Netflix internet streaming distribution system is blamed for the equally rapid drop in DVD sales (though the drop in DVD sales started way before Netflix went into the streaming business). Netflix is also making deep cuts into movie distribution on cable TV (though the drop in cable viewing started before Netflix and really has to do with a lot of other issues).

But the real reason they hate Netflix is because the company is an upstart that operates pretty much out of Hollywood’s control. So it’s no wonder that Hollywood has no choice but to start cutting deals with… Facebook? OK, lots of folks in Hollywood are not very fond of any social networking site, but war makes for strange bedfellows, and The Dark Knight is jumping into the sack with Mark Zuckerberg. Within 24 hours of Warner’s announcement of this arrangement with Facebook, Netflix stock took a heavy hit. Hollywood is happy except for the fact that they don’t particularly like Facebook either. Oh sure, they feel they’ve been more capable (at the moment) of dictating the terms over at Facebook, but heck, that ain’t gonna last, and then they’ll have to cut a deal with Netflix to screw Facebook and so on and so forth….

All of this is compounded by the other 800-pound gorilla in the room, digital piracy. A quick look at the current top ten list of pirated movies (provided by Peer Media) presents a pretty scary picture. To make it even scarier, I’m willing to bet that the figures presented by Peer Media are probably on the low side. Even more wild is the way these figures compare to the current sales figures for DVDs of the same titles. Some of these movies have fared better as illegal downloads. Officially, Hollywood is still complaining about people sneaking into theaters with video cell phones. But let’s be honest, the minute the material goes online, it is hackable. Oh sure, everybody is taking extensive steps to maintain tight security, but often that only weeds out the lower-skilled hackers (some of whom are still using dial-up).

This is one of the reasons why a lot of folks in the film industry really wish the whole digital issue would simply go away. But it won’t, and besides, they’re already so deeply invested in these new systems that they cannot afford to abandon them. Sure, they know that at least some of the piracy is taking place right under their noses (for example, the Academy members who apparently allowed wide access to the digital screenings of this year’s nominated movies). By now, the mysterious stranger in the theater using his cell phone is the least of their worries (though the recent wave of security checks of patrons at advance screenings have certainly been a hoot – there’s nothing like a thorough pat down while you’re holding popcorn and a drink in each hand to make a person feel safe).

However, the audience is moving in this direction (remember, Netflix has more than 20 million members), and Hollywood has no choice but to follow. But they’ll do almost anything to take as much control as possible. A strong push is on against Google, Amazon and other online providers as a step against piracy. Ironically, there is a major study on this issue by the Social Science Research Council with data showing that heavy-handed enforcement does not work. Instead, the evidence strongly suggests that lower prices and easier commercial access are more viable against online piracy. But extremely oppressive enforcement is what Hollywood wants US Congress to pursue, and the Feds have already started moving in that direction. Even such search terms as “bit torrent” have become suspect online.

Gee, what a hard decision. Unworkable and costly enforcement policies that are doomed to fail, or viable economic business practices geared toward creating a rational and competitive market? Tough call, but I guess we’d better pick the billy club over the profit sheet. Well, this is basically what the Hollywood establishment is doing. Fear (especially the fear of losing control) is the driving force behind the Hollywood view of the digital universe. Since fear is a lousy way to make decisions, it’s no surprise that the mainstream digital strategy is basically oppressive, costly and most likely doomed to failure. Like those bumper cars, Hollywood is moving every which way at once and smashing up all over the place.

The upside is the rapid growth for online distribution of indie material. Last Wednesday saw the launch of Fandor, an online company that hopes to create an indie version of Netflix. It is one of a rapidly developing field of digital providers. These venues offer an important opportunity for movies that otherwise are getting shafted in the increasingly marginal mainstream distribution system. In turn, they’re creating the basis for a more rational and competitive system.

And that’s the real reason why Hollywood hates the digital universe. It threatens to make sense, and basically, the major companies really prefer their game of bumper cars. As long as they own all the cars.

It’s official. Hollywood has discovered old people. They’re right there in the front row of the theater. Well, not the front row. They tend to sit more toward the back, near the exit door. It’s closer to the restrooms, you know.

Yep, the hot scoop from the New York Times is that Hollywood is looking to focus on the aging Baby Boomer audience. Well, sort of. The 40+ club is not the audience for any major movie that has a production budget of more than $60 million. But virtually every recent low-budget indie film (in other words, almost every movie that dominated the recent Academy Award show) received strong support from the gray hair league.

Though the New York Times is just now discovering this trend, the topic was presented last November at Variety‘s Future of Film Summit. During a panel discussion, Bill Mechanic from Pandemonium Films noted the irony that  audiences have aged and movies have not. Personally, I can’t help but notice that the more the audience ages, the more most movies seem headed toward the kindergarten zone. So the idea that there might be a growing market that is vastly underserved goes without saying.

In certain respects, we’re watching the wheel of history complete a unique cycle. In the mid-1960s, the Baby Boom generation was entering their teenage-to-early-adult years, and the generation gap was hitting the box office like a tidal wave. Most Hollywood movies of that period were basically weird holdovers from the Eisenhower days, and these flicks were not clicking with the young audience. Foreign films and old American movies were the rage on most college campuses, almost all of which had extremely active film societies that floated their programs with an easy grace between Jean-Luc Godard and Humphrey Bogart. A new sensibility was beginning to form, and as the youth movement began to dominate the market, movies were about to undergo a radical series of changes.

But by the 1980s, the Baby Boomers were busy pursuing careers (and booming their own babies) and everything changed yet again. The next wave of the new youth market was taking over and this audience was quite different. Many of them did not care for subtitles, and they largely viewed old black-and-white films as some kind of indicator that their parents had poor vision. They also were not too picky about narrative structure and characterizations as long as the movie maintained enough bang for the buck. Increasingly, movies were designed for an audience that seemingly had a short attention span, no basic curiosity about the world and pretty much no memory of anything prior to lunch.

This is the basic model for most big-budget movies made today. Meanwhile, members of the Baby Boom generation are now entering their Golden Years (and as a member of this generation I will be the first to admit that I have no damn idea what is so Golden about them). Many Boomers are finished with their careers (or their careers are finished with them) and done with family demands (or with families, period). They suddenly have some free time and (if the pensions are good) a little bit of money to spend. So heck, let’s all go to the movies!

Granted, this theory of the newly emerging (and very gray) Boomer market makes the audience sound like the zombies in the original Dawn of the Dead (you know, where they keep returning to the mall in pursuit of some dim memory of past happiness). I even know a few young theater managers who undoubtedly share this view. But the real question is the potential effect this will have on the box office. Especially since there appears to be a drop in the younger market. Though the demographic data is still a bit thin, there appears to be a drop taking place with younger and senior audiences, while the 40-to-49 market appears to be picking up a slight but steady increase (well, actually the numbers don’t really pick up, they just don’t drop as far – there is an overall loss of audience going on). Though the current National Association of Theater Owners report emphasizes an increase in revenue due to the higher cost of tickets for 3D movies, overall the American theater market is down (NATO is estimating a 5 percent drop, some other estimates go as high as 20 percent).

Which is why some folks in Hollywood are looking at the “mature” audience. Despite their more subdued attendance pattern and rude refusal to load up with junk at the concession stand, the middle-aged audience is proving to be a reliable market. Oh sure, they’re not about to watch a movie 20 times over like a pack of teenage girls at Titanic or something, but they are a steady date. More important, they are extremely likely to go to the kind of movies made by indie filmmakers. This is rapidly becoming one of the most important negotiating chips that an indie artist has when dealing with the suits.

The reasons are remarkably simple. The older audience wants a good storyline rather than a flimsy excuse for lots of CGI. In truth, much of this audience isn’t particularly impressed with CGI (unless it is discreetly used as in The King’s Speech and True Grit). They have a greater appreciation for honest-to-god actors (which may explain why Megan Fox does not have much in the way of a future career). Even more problematic (for Hollywood), this audience isn’t all that much into high concepts and acts as if they expect a movie to have some relationship to reality. A few years ago, some folks in Hollywood were calling these people losers. Now they are the “new” viewers.

They are also the indie cinema’s best hope from a marketing standpoint. It’s about time that AARP set up a production unit.

It is really getting to be more and more difficult to tell the difference between the Oscars and the Film Independent Spirit Award presentation. OK, there are some differences. For one, two-time Spirit winner James Franco seemed more animated at the Spirit Fest than he ever appeared during the Oscar broadcast (though I’ve heard that his backstage tweets during the Oscar show were engaging).

Otherwise, they were all pretty much the same movies and the same players. This is ironic, since the Spirit Award is the prime showcase for low-budget indie cinema while the Oscars are… well, nobody actually remembers any more exactly what the Oscars are for, and they’re mostly held every year because of all the fashion designers who need someplace to display their wares. That and providing Kirk Douglas with a safe place to cruise.

Despite the fact that these two award shows represent polar opposites in the film industry, they have merged into some kind of conjoined existence. Oh sure, the Spirit Award show has a livelier and scrappier approach (including the odd way they start handing out awards before the program even starts). Nobody can accuse the Academy Award show of ever being lively. The event this last Sunday was (as usual) over-produced, over-stuffed, and thankfully, after three long hours, finally over. At its best, the Spirit Awards have a sense of spontaneity that the Academy rigidly rejects. Maybe that’s why many of the people at the Spirit Awards act as if they are really enjoying themselves. At the Oscars, a lot of folks appear to be sneaking a peak at their watches.

So it seems that indie filmmaking is hot again (kind of) in Hollywood. Even Variety is insisting that the suits are all looking at the low (and lower) budget structure as a major new direction. Gosh, just two years ago the major studios were closing down their indie shops and announcing that the future would be a limited slate of big over-the-top productions. So why did they change their tune?

Actually, they haven’t. Not exactly, except for the odd way most of the major Hollywood studios will often try to go both ways at once (and any way in between). For a brief moment it almost looks as if the majors have just discovered the virtue (and value) of making smaller movies with stronger scripts. But the Hollywood production slate is still crowded with blockbusters, sequels and remakes. Budgets for many movies are still spiraling out of control (the real budget for many of these films is reaching past $200 million a pop) and the studios remain largely focused on the male teenage audience despite repeated demonstrations of the commercial limits of that market.

The only difference now is that Hollywood basically realizes that this game plan isn’t working, but they’re so used to working this way that they simply can’t stop. In fact, many in Hollywood seem almost proud of just how dysfunctional the system is becoming as they double-down on everything that hasn’t worked. Charlie Sheen and his out-of-control craziness isn’t really such an anomaly out there. Heck, he’s almost nutty enough to be running a studio.

So the situation for indie movies is only slightly better now than it was a year ago (regardless of what Variety says). Back then, the suits were largely telling indie filmmakers to screw off. Now they’re inviting a few to come over for a quickie with a possible stay over (if they behave). But don’t expect any breakfast or coffee in the morning. And no matter what, they’re not calling you back the next day. I’m not saying there’s no future for indie filmmaking in Hollywood. It’s the other way around. There’s no future for Hollywood in indie filmmaking, because Hollywood just doesn’t get it.

That was the main thing on display Sunday at the Oscars. This was supposed to be the hip Oscar show for a younger and more edgy demographic. Of course it fell flat on its face (and dropped in the ratings from past presentations). All that got displayed was the extremely limited bubble that currently dominates Hollywood. The result was a slightly strange meandering through various layers of disengagement, occasionally punctuated by brief bursts of minor narcissism. Billy Crystal acted as if he was one of the few people on stage who knew what he was doing, and he was mostly trying to get back off stage as fast as possible. And he isn’t even part of the demographic they were trying to attract.

Which suggests to me that the indie cinema doesn’t have to worry too much about Hollywood one way or the other. Over the past several years, indie filmmakers have been exploring alternative methods for financing, production and distribution. In many respects, they were forced to survive in a strange new land. In the process, many indie filmmakers have begun developing new systems of funding (for example crowdfunding and other approaches based on various micro-financing systems) and new ways for digital distribution. Everything is in flux, and somewhere within the apparent chaos of these various alternative models, a new system is emerging.

Meanwhile, Hollywood stays fixed on a top-down management system that is largely connected to an out-of-control business model. The decentralized nature of the digital revolution baffles many studio executives who view the Internet as a threat in need of congressional fixes to bring it under corporate control. They are still convinced that they own the future and seem deeply perplexed by their own inability to predict anything beyond yesterday. Though they control most of the system (technically as well as financially), they are no longer so sure that the system itself will last. The failure of the digital revolution to produce a hit is their only solace. Privately, they have convinced themselves that it will never happen.

Oh by the way, there is now a hit. Granted, it’s a self-published ebook, not a movie (and the publication industry is in much of the same state as Hollywood – heck, it’s mostly the same companies). But the first hit digital movie is coming, and it’s coming much sooner than Hollywood cares to think. It is an historic inevitability.

Previously I asked if everything was changing at an alarming rate. The question was meant to be provocative. But now, it is simply rhetorical.

The political landscape is changing as a battle for the economic soul of the nation erupts throughout various state houses. Diametrically opposed forces are colliding with the monotonous regularity of a pack of Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robot toys, and the effect is being felt everywhere, even in the film industry.

Take for example the war now being waged on film production tax incentive programs in various states (actually, it’s being currently waged in most states). In New Mexico, it’s being rolled back from 25 percent to 15 percent. But in Michigan, they just got rid of the whole thing. OK, the new governor of Michigan isn’t exactly ending it altogether, but he has put a $25 million cap on the program (which last year handled $163 million in tax incentives), and has basically guaranteed that the incentive program will quickly starve to death. The approach just taken in Michigan is about to happen elsewhere as numerous state legislators invoke last year’s study by the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities as the Last Rites for the concept.

A quick read through this report is enough to cause most rational state politicos to hit the panic button. By the time the CBPP report is done, a state might as well host plunder raids by the Vikings rather than a film company. Heck, the CBPP practically makes it sound as if film production tax incentives are the leading cause of the national deficit (as well as a contributing factor to cancer, illiteracy, global warming and unrest in the Middle East).

Since most state politicos are not rational (at least not these days), you’ve got a real double whammy effect. A careful read of the CBPP study (that is the data, not their conclusions) would suggest that the major problem is a combination of mismanagement (for example, the Iowa Film Commission fraud case) or poor business modeling (to be honest, I think the 45 percent tax incentive in Michigan was way too high to begin with). But show me a politician who actually reads data and I’ll show you someone who lost in the last election.

The basic principle of the tax incentive is that the state is providing a rebate of a predetermined percentage on the tax monies that would otherwise be collected and kept from the production (as long as the production fulfills certain demands concerning time and work spent filming in the state). The monies returned in the tax incentive is meant to be factored against the amount that would normally be garnered by the state from the production rather than money taken out of the tax coffers that should have been spent elsewhere. In practice, the state does remove money from the general funds in order to create a basic financial pool for this purpose, but the larger idea is suppose to be factored on the taxes that would actually be raised in terms of the production. The management of this system becomes much more complex, but the core principle is pretty straightforward.

Much of the loss incurred by these incentive programs is largely due to poor management by the state agencies involved. Granted, many states have a hunger for attracting certain productions that can rush to the brain like a sugar attack. That is when the agencies overseeing the incentive program start making deals that are not in the state’s best interest. Oddly enough, this is mostly a problem with big-budget Hollywood productions. Small indie movies (many of which truly need these incentives for their own meager budgets) are largely not a problem (except maybe in Iowa, and that is due to what the defense counsel might call “other issues”).

A tax incentive program that basically works is located due north in Canada. Just go to the recent report from PricewaterhouseCooper. Granted, the Canadian system is nationally based (which is actually a plus, contrary to current American political thinking). That means you don’t have all the different provinces shamelessly competing against each other in a process that can easily circumvent common sense. The Canadian system is also helped by the fact that the program takes a wider approach to media (film, digital, games, etc.) which allows for a broader range for future development.

Which brings up the other problem that plagues the American approach. To make this type of program functional, the state would have to take a long-term approach to development. That involves the progressive creation of the type of facilities and personnel needed for professional production. The reason most Hollywood productions bring in most of their own crew (and ship a lot of work out of state) is because they need people they feel they can depend on (well, that as well as union requirements). They also want production facilities they view as reliable and meeting certain standards. Many states can develop such a system, but it does require a long-term approach.

But currently, most states are locked into a political system that is focused exclusively on the fastest short-term method available. In most cases, the political leaders will insist that they are following a sound business model. In reality, they are following the loony Wall Street model that has dominated for the past 30 years. I call it the Locust Model. You take over a company. Squeeze, loot and strip away virtually every resource for the fastest immediate financial gain for the shareholders. Then, once you have gutted everything in sight, you unload the business onto somebody else. The result is quick in rewards, short in lifespan, and absolutely devastating to everything in its path (the movie Other People’s Money is a reasonable presentation of the process).

Many states are now trying to adopt this model. Officially, they are attempting to slash everything to the bone to cover deficits. In reality, they are looking to shift state funds toward private businesses in an alleged effort to create a “trickle down effect” (which, ironically, hasn’t worked in over 30 years). In the process, anything that involves long-range planning and development is considered dead meat. So it is no surprise that the film production tax incentive idea is a goner. Many states are too busy stripping and gutting everything to the bone until the political whiz kids are ready to sell off whatever is left.

So the only real question is: To whom are we selling the states? Canada? Goody! We get a tax incentive that works.

Is it just me, or are we living in some pretty confusing times? Seemingly this is an era so lacking a center that everything appears to be flying every which way like a handful of nuts in a washing machine during the spin cycle.

A year ago, obits were being written for low-budget indie films. Now, indie movies are the latest hot item in the Hollywood market. At film festivals, deals are being made before the final reel is even over (OK, that Katie Holmes movie at Sundance was a big exception), and the indie marketplace is suddenly livelier than a swap meet at a Turkish rug fair. It’s more than a revival. It is virtually a resurrection.

The future looks great until you get to the theater and discover that budget-crunching tentpole movies are piled up everywhere you turn. The typical American megaplex looks like a 12-way truck crash at a demolition derby. The result is a stampede that has the so-called summer movies cranking up their release schedule around March and continuing through some point in 2012 (when the presumed end of civilization will slow things down a bit).

Part of the new drive behind indie movies is because they have an economic model that actually makes sense. For example, an indie flick like Winter’s Bone gets made for $2 million and makes $6.4 million at the box office (US only, still waiting on global distribution). OK, that isn’t a big profit, but basically it is a profit, and since it also stands to take in an equally nice sum in both DVD and foreign release, it has done pretty darn OK. Low cost with a decent return.

On the other hand, The Green Hornet has taken in $92.4 million US ($200 global). Sounds like a really great profit until you figure on the $120 million production budget (and since the figures for most of these suckers is presented in a low estimate, the real budget was probably around $160 to $180 million). Add another $5 to $10 million for converting the film to 3D and another $100 million (or more) for publicity. This is when you realize that your calculator isn’t big enough to handle the figures (and we still haven’t gotten around to all the cost overruns from the special effects crew). You just know that the box office report for this type of movie is largely meaningless.

Once you make this economic comparison, it’s obvious what Hollywood will want to do. They will want to make The Green Hornet Two right away. Immediately if not sooner. Maybe it can be a prequel. Heck, let’s reboot the series now. And can we get Johnny Depp into the cast?

It is partly true that comparisons between indie movies and big tentpole flicks are somewhat like comparing apples and oranges. They operate from very different models and have extremely different directions and focus. The low cost of an indie movie forces it to operate within a rational budget model that often has a reasonable degree of accountability. From an economic viewpoint, they’re lean and extremely manageable.

A tentpole movie has more fat than a pig at a luau, with a budget that is often padded in more ways than a room at the funny farm. Likewise, the system actually encourages higher spending rather than cost reduction. There’s a kind of shower room mentality in which various producers feel empowered by the size of their budget (and many weird tales of rivals comparing these figures).

Indie movies play to niche markets and specialized audiences. They require a slow, steady approach to release, often spending their first four or more weeks in only a handful of theaters as they build up a strong word-of-mouth reputation. They’re like a plant that needs water, sunlight and a little time to sprout and bloom.

Tentpole films are more like an avalanche. They move like a terrible, brutal force, destroying everything in their path. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the amount of room they need in theaters. A reasonably successfully indie film will, if its lucky, achieve a maximum distribution of 100 to 200 screens (occasionally, if they are very successful, they might hit a peak of 800 screens). A tentpole movie averages more than 3,200 screens nationally on its opening day. In any given week, there will be three to five films following this pattern. There are around 39,000 movie screens in America. Basically, nearly two thirds of these screens will be showing the same five titles. It’s very rare for an indie movie to be one of those five titles.

Because of their unique and more sophisticated market, indie movies get to focus on more complex and original subject matter. Well, at least in theory. In reality, a lot of indie films end up following formula approaches almost as much as a mainstream production. The big difference is due to niche marketing. Indie movies can pursue a smaller audience base and successfully work within that more narrowly defined area. For example, the gay cinema movement has been successful this way.

Tentpole movies simply can’t afford this approach. Most big-budget films are completely lacking in originality because it simply doesn’t pay. If it is truly original, you risk losing part of the audience. The bigger the budget, the more the movie has to be pre-packaged in terms of cast, concept and visual execution. It also helps if you can blow up a lot of stuff. Most people like watching stuff blow up. Big-scale explosions are popular and largely lacking in anything new or different. Just don’t blow up either a kid or a dog. Some people might find that disturbing. However, the adult cast is OK.

So yes, it is like apples and oranges. But the oranges are still dictating the whole system, taking up most of the resources and totally controlling the whole farm and market distribution system. Which might be almost OK if they were really oranges, but we keep finding out that there are mostly lemon trees in that grove.

Which is part of the reason why some folks in Hollywood are back to testing the apples. But don’t expect most of them to turn into a modern version of Johnny Appleseed.

This is truly a land of opportunity. Why, hardly a day goes by when I don’t receive various offers via e-mail, social networks or even the good old-fashioned telephone. I’ve got people in Africa who want to make me a millionaire, timeshare companies in Florida who want to treat me to a free vacation, and offers for high-paying stay-at-home jobs I never knew existed.

So I was thrilled to receive an unsolicited e-mail for the Screenwriter Takes All Monthly Contest. Gee golly, for a modest fee of $35 to $65 (depending on whether or not you want your script “analyzed” by “experts”), you can enter for a chance to win at least $400. Oh, and maybe somebody important might see your script and turn it into a movie (though I noticed they were a little vague on this part).

The system used by this company is pretty straightforward. Every month, they collect their fees and use a portion of these fees for the cash prize. Most likely, they cover the prize money with the first ten entries, and the rest is operating cost and profit. Since a certain percentage of the entrants will pay for the full “script analysis” and in the process be enticed to try various forms of coaching, the contest is a good piece of eye candy for promoting extra services. Obviously, if you have $35 to blow and are willing to settle for the hope of collecting a small cash prize, then entering the contest is your call. As for the analysis and other services, I still stand by a previous piece I have written on this subject.

I should add that I have not found any complaints about this contest, and what they appear to be doing seems perfectly legitimate. But I’m not sure it will help you in any significant way. If you’re really looking for a screenwriting contest that might be useful, you can try the list available at Hubpages.com called Making Money in Screenplay Contests and Getting Your Script Sold or hope to get included in the next line up of unproduced scripts on The Black List.

Which reminds me of another little bit of advice for people with unproduced screenplays. Be careful who you send it to. Every so often someone offers to send me their script (or in some cases, just sends it). Fortunately, I’m a reasonably trustworthy kind of guy (really, I am). Because of that, I normally dump any unsolicited scripts sent to me. I do this for my own legal protection, especially since I’m also a writer. Otherwise, I could be open to possible litigation issues if someone wanted to insist that I had borrowed from their unfilmed script. Since I’m not interested in providing my attorneys with any more work at present, I just don’t want to get into this issue.

However, there are people out there who are more than happy to take your script. In most cases, they would prefer to take your money (though credit cards will do), but in lieu of cash they might just want your script. These things do happen and you need to take some basic precautions. Presumably, you would not take a walk down a dark alley with twenty dollar bills dangling from your pockets. This is kind of the same thing. Likewise, don’t send your whole script (or even a large portion of it) to someone until you’ve done a little research on them. Are they for real? Do you know how to locate them (by phone, state, whatever)? Are there any complaints about them (you can often check online)? Are they anything more than just some vague contact you made on Facebook or something? These are basic but extremely essential precautions.

The same goes for all of those people on social network sites who are anxious to produce your script. They are like a vast army out there. They can’t wait to make your movie. Too bad you’ve never before heard a mention of these folks. In most cases, nobody’s ever heard of them. But they’re ready to make you famous. For a price. I’ve seen lots of solicitations from “producers” who will “produce” your movie if you give them the money for it. Let’s go back to the dark alley. To your left, you see a shadowy figure. Do you really want to run over there and try to glad hand this guy?

A producer is the person who raises the money to make the film. They raise the money from investors. As the screenwriter, you are not an investor (unless you want to be). In truth, you are suppose to be getting paid for the screenplay, not paying for a movie. Granted, in a small indie production where everybody is working to scrape together the production budget, it’s not unusual for the screenwriter to be floating cash into the movie. But this happens on extremely small productions where everybody knows each other and often are still fresh from film school. But beyond that realm, a screenwriter works for a living (with luck, an OK living at that) and isn’t paying anyone for the pleasure of reading and/or filming their script.

I sometimes think that the best summation of how a screenwriter should relate to a producer is the old story about George Bernard Shaw. Until he met Gabriel Pascal, Shaw had been dissatisfied with previous efforts to adapt his theatrical works. Pascal (who is still one of the most mysterious figures in all of British cinema) only had a few German credits to his name and no reputation in British cinema. But he had the gall to show up on Shaw’s doorstep, proclaiming that he was the only person alive who could successfully produce movies from Shaw’s plays. Supposedly, Shaw demanded to know how much money he had in his pockets. Pascal sheepishly pulled out a few coins. Shaw glanced at the meager sum and invited Pascal into the house, telling Pascal that he was the only honest producer he had ever met.

Shaw and Pascal had a very successful career together. Pascal’s only regret was that Shaw nixed his idea of turning Pygmalion into a musical.

Death and taxes are life’s two certainties. However, death rarely changes its rules, while tax laws can be more fluid than the Mississippi during a flash flood. This is especially true with the system of tax incentives used by various states as an attraction for filmmakers. Various forms of tax breaks and rebates have been used by state film commission offices as a lure for bringing movie productions into their respective states. But what has previously been viewed as a nifty method for getting business into some states is now being spiked as an economic liability.

Overall, the current economic climate is causing a bumpy time for many state film commissions. Just a quick glance at the statistics for gross domestic product of each state from the US Department of Commerce is enough to tell you that a lot of states are hurting. Granted, the most recent annual analysis is from 2009 (2010 is due by the end of February), which means that it details what many view as the worse period of the current crisis. However, among the few states that were seen as doing well in 2009, most went into economic crisis during 2010 (for example, Oklahoma, where a 6.6 percent increase in GDP has not been effective against other economic losses). It’s a grim reminder that doing well is not the same as doing OK.

This means that almost every state in the union is scraping hard to find new ways to rob Peter in order to pay interest to Luke for the money borrowed from Paul based upon an incentive from Matthew. Public services are being cut to the bone and beyond. Ironically, most states are also run by legislators who are committed to not raising taxes (except in Illinois), which means that various state representatives around the country are busy plotting alternative means to increase state revenue. Though bank robbery would be one solution, I doubt if the average state politico could handle the task (just writing the stick-up note would be a problem for some of these folks).

Which leaves the whole concept of having a state film commission office in an odd pickle. It can be argued that a film commission office is important because it brings the state extra revenue from various major and indie production companies. This results in increased business for local individuals and companies who provide services for these productions (everything from production crew members to location services and local caterers). It also provides a form of back-door advertising for the state (golly, the scenery was real pretty in that movie, so let’s go visit). On paper, it sounds like a straightforward, win-win situation.

Unfortunately, a lot of politicians don’t see it that way. The business brought in by any production is narrowly defined and extremely specialized. Likewise, the benefits are short in duration and can be viewed as pretty meaningless in the overall employment scene. Since many movies film on locations other than where they’re suppose to be set (for example, Hamlet 2 takes place in Tuscon, Arizona, but was actually filmed in Albuquerque, New Mexico), the subliminal advertisement for tourism is somewhat mooted by the bait-and-switch nature of this reality.

Which brings up the other political problem currently facing most state film commissions. In order to attract productions to their state, most commissions offer various tax rebates and tax breaks (usually factored by the amount of filming and post-production work that the company will be required to do in that state). In theory, these tax incentives offer an extremely efficient (even cost-effective) way of encouraging movie productions to move to a particular state. It also encourages the development of local companies related to these productions. Again, it all sounds win-win.

But it is only win-win if you’re taking a Big Picture perspective. The average state politician does not take this perspective. Many of these folks (especially the newly elected conservative members) simply see lost tax revenue. This view may be extremely short-sighted (especially when viewed in light of the Motion Picture Association of America’s 2006 economic impact study concerning the benefits from various film commissions), but it is an easy viewpoint for politicians who are blinded ideologically.

One recent example is the resignation of the director and staff of the Ohio Film Commission. Since the new governor of the state is determined to “privatize” the entire Ohio Department of Development and wants it to become some type of profit-oriented job-producing entity, it is strongly suspected that the whole concept of a film commission will not have much of a place within this emerging concept. Since the new governor of Ohio has so far been opposed to anything that might involve public funding (such as state employee pensions and Medicaid costs), the future of the state film commission appears bleak.

Likewise, the recent resignation of Lisa Strout, director of the New Mexico State Film Commission, is directly related to the newly elected governor’s plan to drastically cut the tax incentive program in New Mexico. The Film Commission in New Mexico has produced an incredibly impressive track record, placing it in tight competition with California. The plan to reduce the New Mexico tax incentive from 25 per cent to 15 per cent will, in all likelihood, cripple the New Mexico film industry at the very moment that it was attempting to expand its production potential.

The bizarre and even misguided nature of these current political maneuvers may be best represented by the odd decision of the Texas Film Commission to deny Robert Rodriguez his tax incentive grant for the production of Machete. Rodriquez may be the biggest thing that Texas has going in the way of home grown production, but they will be damned if they will reward him for presenting Texas in a “negative light.” I actually thought state film commissions were not supposed to engage in content assessment (especially when it sounds like a very “political” rather than “content” assessment), but I appear to be wrong.

It’s a new age dawning, and not exactly a pretty one.

Update to Last Week’s Blog: With last weekend’s awards from both the Directors Guild and the Screen Actors Guild, the betting line for the Academy Award definitely favors The King’s Speech. So the Coen brothers are just out of luck with the Best Director award (it will undoubtedly go to Tom Hooper), and the Best Actor and, most likely, Best Supporting Actor trophies will follow suit.

The Academy Awards are a bit like a hot dog. They’re popular, largely lacking in any nutritional value, and nobody needs to know how they’re made. That may be the real reason why they’re called the Oscars.

But the Academy Awards are still viewed as the gold standard in the film industry. To be honest, there is never much rational thinking involved in the Oscar nominations. More critical effort goes into the annual Razzie nominations than anyone has ever placed in the Oscar race. But people don’t line up to watch the Razzie Awards, even though they are more likely to have seen those nominated movies than anything at the Oscars.

Over the years, the battle between “art” and “commerce” has been the central irony of the Academy Awards. Harry Cohn summed it all up ages ago when he told Frank Capra that “the Academy will never vote for that comedy crap you make. They only vote for the arty crap.” Now, they only vote for the kind of small indie movies that they don’t want to make. It is not clear if anyone in Hollywood actually watches these movies, but they’re just about the only flicks that will get anywhere in the award process.

The announced nominees for 2010 is an exemplary tribute to this contradiction. The King’s Speech (made for a very modest $15 million) leads the way, closely followed by True Grit and The Social Network (made for $50 million and $40 million, which is still lunch money in modern Hollywood). Even more interesting are the nominations (including Best Picture) for The Kids Are All Right and Winter’s Bone (with budgets of $4 million and $2 million, these movies wouldn’t have paid for one day of filming on most Hollywood productions).

So once again the low and modestly-priced movies are the honored titles, even though the main focus of the industry is to screw them over in favor of tent pole flicks about heroes in PVC tights (all filmed in 3D). No wonder so many of us are becoming more jaded than a priest taking Charlie Sheen’s confessions. The result is just weird, lurid and utterly pointless.

But that’s OK. The Oscars were never designed to make any sense (heck, the Academy only exists because of the old studio moguls’ failed attempt to bust the emerging Hollywood trade unions back in the 1920s). The show is primarily a bread-and-circus fest for movie fans, most of whom have not even been inside a theater within the past year (the current stats on viewing habits in the US are actually getting that bleak). It is also a chance for people to see clips from movies they were not planning to watch. These days, the Oscar presentation is better used for drinking games and office betting pools. So here is my proposed breakdown of the main awards.

The Best Picture award is a remarkably easy call. The King’s Speech is British. It has a bunch of British aristocrats. They all have fancy British accents. It’s even a period piece with some history on the side. For God’s sake, just give them the award and be done with it.

Best Director: Joel and Ethan Coen. Obviously the Academy is more enamored with True Grit than was the foreign press core at the Golden Globes. However, that may have to do with something unrelated to the film’s artistic merit. Though it is still tempting to refer to the Coen Brothers as young Turks, they have actually been around for three decades and have produced an impressive (if truly eccentric) body of work. Besides, the Academy tends to go for old guard directors, and all of a sudden, the Coen Brothers are the old guard guys in the pack. Oh my, how time flies….

Best Actor is more of a split decision. Often, this is a category that favors the more established and mature talent. Unfortunately, Jeff Bridges is the main man who fits this bill, and he’s already got one. There’s no law that says the Oscar can’t repeat two years running, but it would be extremely unlikely. This may bring it down to a split between Jesse Eisenberg and Colin Firth. By old guard Hollywood thinking, Eisenberg successfully portrayed their worse nightmare (the Satanic digital universe). But Firth is a more seasoned (and once again, British) performer with a nice solid (and very British) track record. So I suspect that Firth has the lead (did I mention that he is British?), though if the voting gets split between these two, it could end up going to Javier Bardem simply because his haircut in Biutiful is a heck of a lot better than what he wore in No Country For Old Men.

This has a potential influence on the Best Supporting Actor category. Geoffrey Rush should be a shoe in for The King’s Speech, but the Academy may not feel like going totally British. OK, actually Rush is Australian, but he sounds pretty British. In that case, the other major candidate is Christian Bale. OK, Bale really is British, but he sounds sort of American and we all know that Batman is a Yank. The rest of the logic is simple. Bale has a crushingly monotonous sense of intense presentation that can easily be mistaken for heavy duty method acting. Rush simply acts (extremely well, but he doesn’t make it look like heavy labor).

When it comes to actresses, the Academy is a bit like Hugh Hefner. They like ‘em fresh and young. But since Hailee Steinfeld most likely has a lock on Best Supporting Actress, they may feel like going toward an established (that is, older) figure for Best Actress. Besides, Annette Bening is a straight playing gay, and that almost always clicks with the Academy (don’t believe me, just ask Tom Hanks). If there is a surprise, it may come from Jennifer Lawrence. It’s an outside chance, but it is possible.

So place your bets. Oh, one last word of warning. The method I used for these selections is based on a rigorous system of blind guesswork. If I’m wrong, you lose. To be honest, you would almost be better off with a Ouija board.

On January 27, the YouTube movie comes of age. I mean movies made via YouTube for YouTube (as opposed to movies that just kind of get dumped there). This is the date for the premiere screening of Life in a Day at the Sundance Film Festival. The importance of this screening is not so much the film itself, but rather how it was made. Life in a Day is composed of footage taken on July 24, 2010, by YouTube users from around the world. It is somewhat akin to the first international satellite broadcast by Telstar.

But even more interesting are the folks behind this production. The film is directed by Kevin Macdonald, the Oscar-winning director of The Last King of Scotland. Even more provocative is the film’s producer, Ridley Scott. Macdonald has an extensive background in documentary filmmaking and is obviously exploring the new collaborative world of digital information. But Scott is involved because that is where the zeitgeist can be found, and it seems to be his weird destiny every decade to take a ride on that bronco.

Scott’s erratic career is notorious for having more slumps than a relief pitcher for a Triple A farm team (heck, I saw Robin Hood last year and can barely remember the movie). But between these slumps, he turns around and directs the defining film of that decade (i.e. Blade Runner, Thelma and Louise, etc.). It’s some kind of subconscious instinct he has for emerging forms and directions. He doesn’t have it often, but when he does, it matters. That’s one of the reasons why he’s Sir Ridley Scott.

Critically, Life in a Day will not necessarily be a significant milestone. The “Day in a Life” genre of documentary filmmaking has traditionally not been a major venue for wild excitement (I’m excluding the 7 Up! film series, since it’s more of an ongoing observational project that has carved out its own unique niche). But what Life in a Day does represent is mainstream acknowledgment of the new foundations of digital communication and its rapidly emerging impact on media. Likewise, it’s also a significant probe into the rapidly evolving world of digital distribution.

It is especially interesting that this premiere is taking place at about the same time that Paramount Pictures and Relativity Media have announced their intention to provide members of the Academy with iTune downloadable versions of The Fighter. Increasingly, Academy members have been viewing the Oscar nominees via DVDs. Now they won’t have to make that long walk to their mailbox (yeah, I know, most of these folks have people who do that walk for them).

Of course, these same Academy members may be like the Netflix members who prefer to get a DVD in the mail. Netflix has been one of the forerunners in the downloadable experiment, and they have so far achieved a glass-is-half-full position based on a business model that seems to be evolving through an extremely bumpy trial-and-error process. In some respects, the Netflix experiment is supremely important in the commercial application of digital distribution. But for the independent filmmaker, it is just slightly irrelevant.

Netflix is focused on mainstream commercial distribution (a major complaint about their approach to downloadable access is that they offer a pretty limited – and largely tent pole Hollywood – selection). Independent filmmakers require a wider range. Besides, Netflix is about making money for Netflix. Indie filmmakers have a bizarre interest in maybe, just maybe making some money for themselves (gee, what a surprise – next they’re going to want to make a living at this business).

Various online distribution resources for indie movies are rapidly emerging (just go to the Planet Indie site for a quick initial list). Various companies such as Film Baby, New Video and Wamclips have established workable first generation distribution niches. Both the Sundance and Tribeca Film Festivals have moved into digital distribution of winning movies. The digital dawn has already shifted to noon, and the new model is now waiting for the first wave of serious financial application.

Which is the potential represented by SnagFilms. With their recent announcement of a $10 million investment into digital distribution for indie movies (both narrative and documentary), SnagFilms is about to make one of the most ambitious moves yet into the indie/digital arena. Though their business linkage with both Comcast and Verizon sounds a bit like a dance with the devil, it is still an intriguing effort that hopefully will work.

So if Ridley Scott is attempting to ride on this zeitgeist wave, he’d better hurry. This time he will not be riding alone.

It has long been rumored that Martin Scorsese was planning to do a sequel to Taxi Driver. But why did he relocate the story to Tuscon, Arizona?

OK, the old movie Taxi Driver is probably not particularly connected to last weekend’s massacre in Tuscon (though news reporters will soon be flocking in that direction). But Carl Jung would be quick to note the strange run of synchronicity involved, from the alleged shooter’s shaved head to the completely ironic appearance of an honest-to-god real life taxi driver at the shooting. Heck, we even have incoherent, rambling messages much like the journal kept by Travis Bickle in the original movie (though to be honest, Travis’ ravings are just a tad more coherent).

The only thing missing is the soundtrack by Bernard Herrmann. The reverberations are simply awesome. So too are the disconnects. There is simply no room for rational discussion about this (or much of anything else) in current American society. Heck, we Americans gave up rational discourse ages ago. Just like our movies, we live with an incredible disconnect from reality. How else do you explain an assassination attempt against a relatively moderate congressperson (she has been pro-choice, supported gun rights, and was going both ways at once on immigration issues) committed by an alleged Marxist/Nazi/Siddhartha-luvin’ assailant who wanted to return the US Currency system back to the gold standard. By comparison, John Hinckley‘s reason for shooting Ronald Reagan almost makes sense. Yes I know, Hinckley’s case involved that Taxi Driver thing again.

A long time ago, H. Rap Brown got the media stirred up with his pronouncement that violence was as American as apple pie. Brown was always gifted at stirring up attention, and if he hadn’t gone up the river on homicide charges, he could conceivably had found employment on Fox News. Every strident statement currently being made about the extreme and vitriolic nature of current American political discourse is true. Ironically, American political discourse has often been both extreme and violent since sometime before the American Revolution. Heck, even our vernacular language is incredibly violent (and has been long before the appearance of Hip Hop). I wouldn’t exactly say that Americans are more violent than other people, but we sure do love to talk tough, and our ears perk up faster to the words of Mickey Spillane than they do to Jane Austen.

But what has become unique is the degree to which most of our contemporary political and cultural discussions are taking place in an alternative universe that has no connection to reality. This is true of both “conservative” and “liberal” discussions (besides, these old-guard political terms are virtually meaningless in modern America). Real political debate is almost impossible in this country, as everybody is busy accusing everybody else of being some form of Satanic spawn engaged in an evil conspiracy. In turn, a lot of people are sprouting a lot of half-truths while failing to discover that two half-truths don’t add up to a single fact. Not surprisingly, much of contemporary society has fallen into a deep sticky pile of gibberish. The result is making us all pretty mad, but we don’t know what we are really mad about. We only know that we ain’t gonna take it anymore and are ready to start blasting. Too bad Chester Himes isn’t more widely read in his own country. His final metaphor in Blind Man With a Pistol is still chillingly accurate.

However, this has little to do with the state of modern American movies. Then again, it has everything to do with it. As part of their contribution to the present state of vast alienation, most modern American movies have nothing to do with life as we know it. The relationship between movies and reality has always been a tad thin, and the escapist aspect of Hollywood does have a striking appeal (for example, the 1930s really weren’t dominated by screwball heiresses and flippant hard-nosed reporters, but it sure plays better that way). But come on, when was the last time you saw a major Hollywood film that in any thin way reflected even so much as a glimmer of the world as you know it? Well, are you still thinking? Yeah, takes a while, doesn’t it.

These days, movies pretty much exist at a near total disconnect from the rest of the world. Even at an allegorical level, most modern movies have basically no point (unless the point is to squeeze money out of socially awkward teenage boys with no personal life). The traditional Hollywood movie is designed to manipulate your emotions along a well-defined narrative path. But the narrative doesn’t much exist these days. That’s why many people leave the theater feeling hopelessly jerked around. They are being jerked around, in just the same way they are being jerked at every other level of their lives.

But the primary emptiness of the average Hollywood product is compensated for by the viewer’s willingness to read into the movie whatever subjective meaning they wish to see. Its a bit like all of those folks years ago who liked the movie Rocky because they came away thinking he had won the fight at the end of the film. The narrative didn’t matter (by the way, Rocky loses the fight). It was the subjective emotional effect that the audience locked into. In other words, they were having a strong emotional reaction that was not based on reality.

It’s a form of emotional dissociation with a dash of paranoid schizophrenia on the side. The result is that the subjective interpretation takes precedence over any form of objective analysis. This is the dark side of what is sometimes called Hollywood Magic: manipulated emotions that are completely unattached to any empirical basis. It was once primarily located on the movie screen. It is now the common currency of daily American life.