Dear Readers, There’s making your film, and then there’s getting your film made. Finding a distributor for your documentary is often more arduous a task than making it. But we’re here to try to help you navigate through the sometimes byzantine process of getting your film to its audience. Mitchell Block, a longtime veteran in educational and home video distribution, presents a comprehensive analysis of the field—theatrical, broadcast/cable, and home video/educational—and offers a set of rules and guidelines for considering the possibilities of distribution, and its many permutations, obstacles
Latest Posts
Dear Readers, “DOCtober…in September” was a smashing success; we sold nearly twice the number of tickets over previous DOCtobers. But it’s time to change the name. When DOCtober was first created in order to showcase documentaries and help them qualify for an Oscar nomination, the Motion Picture Academy’s deadline for qualifying was the end of October, so it all made sense. This year, the deadline was moved up a month, hence the temporary name. Next year the deadline—and therefore the festival—could move again. So, we need to find a name for this important event that is not date-specific
Filmmakers frequently ask me, “At what point in the production process should I offer my film to distributors?” Considering that thousands of documentaries are made each year, it is astounding that this is such a recurring question. Filmmakers persevere and some of these films find their way into festivals. Many are offered to broadcast and cable companies and numerous theatrical, home video and educational distributors. It is clear, however, that far too little work is done to pre-sell the films before they are made. Before making any work, filmmakers should talk with potential buyers
The information printed in this column has been provided to us by each individual and is assumed to be accurate. ID Magazine assumes no responsibility for errors, omissions or other inaccuracies. Nell Cox (New York, NY) started making films in New York in the ’60s as an editor, working for such documentary filmmakers as Richard Leacock, Don Pennebaker, Bob Drew, and Al and David Maysles. Subsequently she was president of Nell Cox Films, Inc., in New York for nine years. While running her own company, she produced, directed, edited and wrote many award-winning documentary films, including films
For almost two months, two documentary filmmakers—Paul Schwartzreich and Mait Quinn—wove themselves into the fabric of the streets of Portland, Oregon. They were exploring the world of homeless teens, with the mission to make a documentary about what it was like to live on the streets. The film we made, The Runaways, was a startling, honest, engaging hour. The pictures were stark. What we witnessed and recorded was real—and painful. The film aired on MSNBC. Immediately, we received lots of positive feedback; community groups told us the film was a powerful tool to teach young people about the
The approach to the Festival International du Documentaire in Marseille was uplifting. It involved a harborside walk past luxury yachts with masts silhouetted against an azure Mediterranean sky. The National Theatre, in which all the events took place, was cool and welcoming. Screenings were in two auditoriums, starting at 9.30 a.m. and usually ending about midnight. Immediately after every show filmmakers answered questions, with everyone sitting in a curved area that naturally brought people together. About 100 films were selected from 57 countries. As festival president Michel Tregan
In the 1960s, when I had just arrived in New York City, I spent a year as an assistant to Willard Van Dyke, the renowned social documentary filmmaker. It was then that I first saw Willard’s half-hour documentary, Valley Town (1940). This film was produced in association with New York University, and was intended to draw attention to the plight of unemployed workers in a Pennsylvania steel town caught by the rising tide of automation. Released just before American entry in World War II, the film was perhaps the last social documentary drawn from the concerns of the Great Depression and Franklin
Dear Editor, I am writing in response to the article in the November 2002 issue written by Mitchell W. Block regarding distribution. This article contains a great deal of good advice; in fact, the “Rules” he has listed are quite well stated and should be of great help to any filmmaker learning to navigate through the development and distribution jungle. Block is clearly qualified to inform our readership of the finer points of home and educational video and producing documentaries, but his foggy overview of “agents, producer’s representatives and distributors” is confusing and misleading. To
Documentary filmmakers often use still images—mostly photographs—to help tell their stories, and prefer to have “camera moves” that complement the visual flow. Until a few years ago, the most popular way to accomplish this effect was with a motion-control camera stand. Today, some producers are using computer-editing software. As an editor, I have experience with both methods. The camera stand method involves moving the image in front of the camera and using a zoom lens. This is a real optical zoom, so resolution isn’t lost when honing in on a small area. Some systems can shoot film as well as
Amandla! A Revolution in Four Part Harmony, a film about music’s role in the long struggle for freedom in South Africa, melted the hearts of audiences at this year’s Sundance Festival. But the first screening almost turned into a meltdown. Leaving a grueling, sleepless, 36-hour crash-edit session, the film’s director, Lee Hirsch, grabbed a plane from Los Angeles to Salt Lake City. The film’s producer, Sherry Simpson, followed on a later flight. When Simpson arrived she expected to say hello to Hirsch, find her room and finally be able to doze off. Instead of greeting her warmly, Hirsch was