My two cents about Zooppa –– which is less than what my opinion is worth.

The actual email. Thanks,
Mark, for saying such nice
things about my work.

I recently got an email from someone at Zooppa, offering me a "filmmaking opportunity.” The opportunity is for me to create a commercial for a stapler company and if my finished piece is determined to be one of the ten best, I’ll get to share $25,000.

I’m not going to do it. And I suggest you don’t, either. Here's why:

Let’s say I’m the best of the best. And that each of the nine other submissions considered to be one of the ten best “wins" $50.00. That leaves me “winning” $24,550. 

There’s a reason that word “winning” is in quotes. Because it isn’t winning. It’s earning. 

To earn that money, I have to first work as a copywriter. I’d study the brief so I could get to know the marketing strategy, advertising strategy, and brand voice. I’d familiarize myself with the target market, understanding their perception of the brand and its competitors. I’d also evaluate the product and its competitive set to determine opportunities to communicate the benefits of a feature that would be relevant to the audience. 

Only then would I be able to come up with a script.

Me having an idea.
What it looks like. Really.

Once the script is prepared, I’d have to work as a producer. I’d break down the script in order to create a budget to shoot the piece and put together all the necessary resources. I’d arrange for casting and location scouting, procure equipment and the people to operate it, secure insurance to cover something happening to a piece of equipment or a person. If anything costs money I’d have to pay for it. 

By this point I would have already worked for about a week and spent something, even if it isn’t much. 

If you’ve been reading my blog at all you know that working as a director involves a lot more than showing up and calling “action!” Before I can even dream of calling “action!" I'd have to cast actors, find locations, and create the world I want to create through art direction, lighting, and props. 

When it finally comes time to shoot the piece, I'd get to be the director, but I'd never stop being the producer, the person to deals with the inevitable problems –– equipment that breaks or doesn’t show up, people who flake, actors who are happy to work for free, but simply MUST have fresh dahlias in their dressing rooms...

I wouldn't get to stop being a producer once the footage was all shot because there’d be equipment to return, a location to clean up, and crew members to pay. But I might also get to be an editor. Somebody’s got to digitize the footage, sync the sound, pull the selects, edit the piece, do a color-correct, and mix the audio. 

Oh, and then there’s music. We might want music. And a voice over. 

Is there a title that comes up with the logo? Yeah, someone would need to create that, too.

The deadline for submitting to Zooppa is September 22nd, which means I'd have three weeks to write, produce, direct, and finish this thing. Pretty tight, but yeah, I could do it if I worked every day.

Twenty years ago, I was bringing in $1,000 a day as a freelance copywriter, but let’s forget that I’d just come off a job as Senior Vice President/Creative Director at BBDO Worldwide and let’s also forget that you'd need $1,568 today to buy something that cost $1,000 in 1995. Instead, let’s say a copywriter is worth $350 a day. 

Let’s also say a producer is worth $350 a day. And because we’re being all egalitarian and stuff, director/editors get to make $350 a day, too. 

That means I’d be paying myself $22,050 to make this thing, which leaves a whopping $2,500 to pay the crew and actors, rent the location, props, and equipment, and buy the insurance.

And that’s if I win. Which I decided way up there at the top of this rant that I would. 

You losers? All you other people who go to the same trouble that I do and who come in second? You'd get to spend $22,050 worth of your cut rate time and $2,500 of your money in order to collect $50. Plus you wouldn't get to say you made a real commercial. 

Zooppa has come up with a business model that is predicated on people like me being willing to invest their time and money –– plus assume all the risk –– in order to create advertising on behalf of its clients. It's like a lottery, where the potential payout doesn't even cover the cost of the ticket.

So no, Zooppa, I won't be taking you up on this "opportunity", thank you very much. Even if it were my first time looking into the eyepiece of a camera –– and it isn't –– if I'm creating something a legitimate business values as part of its marketing communication, I deserve to be treated as a professional. And the people I hire to work with me do, too. 

Don't get me wrong. I'm more than willing to cut my rate or work for free –– just like most everybody I know in this business –– but when I do it's because I either believe in the project, love the people, or see an opportunity to go to France. 

Zooppa, you're asking me to invest both my time and money to further the marketing goals of a legitimate, profit-seeking enterprise. The only remuneration I'm guaranteed is two staplers, which I can keep as long as I promise to submit a commercial.

It's not a stapler. It's a paycheck.

Three weeks' work for two staplers? Wow. What an "opportunity."

Brian Belefant is a diretor who is not shooting a stapler commercial this week and just happens to be available to work on something more legitimate, more worthy, or more likely to involve travel. 

I'm looking for seven- to nine-year-old boys and no, I'm not a perv.

I'm not a terrorist, either.

You know that camera rig I mention occasionally? The one I've been working on for almost a year? Well, I finally got it to do what it's supposed to.

Most directors, when they come up with something as potentially mind-blowing as this, they shoot a test. But I think we can all agree I'm not like most directors. I have to go and do something spectacular. Like a piece that involves a big cast, a ton of specialized equipment, intricate choreography, a porn star, huge lights, smoke, wind, and a crew of at least 15.

Could be fun. Could be a disaster. 

To raise the stakes just a teeny bit more, I'm going to need some seven- to nine-year-olds to be in it.

The good thing about working with seven- to nine-year-olds is that unless the acting requires them to do something that seven- to nine-year-olds don't normally do, you don't need a seven- to nine-year-old with a ton of experience. In fact, brains, demeanor, and enthusiasm are way more important than any kind of training. 

Which is why I'm posting this on my blog. 

If you know of a kid in the Portland area who might be interested in getting a taste of acting, let me know. Send me a headshot or a picture, along with stuff it might help to know about him: how old he is, whether he has any acting experience, how long of an attention span he has, his height, weight, and hair color. You can send it all to jobs@belefant.com. If you hit the spam filter, just try and convince it that you are indeed a real person. 

We're aiming to shoot on the 24th and yes, we'll have all sorts of things in place to make sure that the kids are not abused or distressed in any way. 


Can't say the same for the director.

Is Hollywood the next Detroit? (Part 2)

After having gone on extensively about why not to shoot overseas, a lot of people wonder what would possibly compel me to consider shooting anywhere but Hollywood.

Fair question.

Here's a list of the disadvantages to shooting in Hollywood:

1) Cost. This is the biggest one. If you want all those things that I listed in my last blog, you're going to have to pay for them. That's just the way it is. And these days, nobody has the kind of money that they used to have. Shooting overseas is sometimes the only way we can afford to do a project for the money.

2) Permitting. There are parts of LA that have a moratorium on shooting. Period. Meaning, no, you can’t shoot there. In Portland, I recently shot for two days downtown. The requirements were A) Inform the film office where and when I’d be shooting, B) Don’t block any businesses’ entries, and C) leave at least six feet on one side of any camera or equipment for handicap access. In Moncton, it was even less onerous.

3) Jaded citizenry. There’s something really wonderful about being welcomed into a community, rather than being given the stink eye everywhere you turn. When I shoot a job in, say, Halifax –– or even Vancouver, Washington –– it’s not unusual for people who own the locations we’re using to go out of their way to accommodate our needs. I’ve even had homeowners make cookies for us when we come to scout their back yards. That doesn’t happen in LA.

4) “Free” extras. Every time I shoot in LA, it becomes a festival of gardeners with leaf blowers, motorcyclists idling and revving, people jumping up and down behind whoever’s in front of the camera, and drivers of passing cars leaning on their horns.

5) Unfunded mandates. Where you can shoot in LA, a lot of rules make it difficult to get permission. Try getting 100% of the neighbors on a block to sign an agreement allowing you to film there.

6) Unions. SAG, IATSE, the Teamsters, and the DGA aren’t inherently bad, but they do have their own agendas which make shooting in LA or New York a bit more complicated than shooting elsewhere. You either follow their rules or run the risk that they’ll shut you down.

7) Overexposure. I once shot a car commercial in LA and thought I’d discovered a great location. As I was lining up a shot, I looked down and saw I was standing on tape marks from a previous production. Believe me, if it’s worth shooting in LA, somebody’s already shot it.

8) The Boondoggle Factor. Let's face it, it's more exciting to say you got to shoot in Bulgaria than on the backlot at Paramount. And for people who want to travel, but don't want to spend their own money doing it, taking a production overseas is perfect.

9) Being unavailable. An amazing thing happened when I shot a job hundreds of miles from the nearest cell tower in Namibia –– nobody could "check in" with some higher up to validate their decisions. Everything we did, we did without help. It was one of the most pleasant production experiences I've ever had. Of course, that's not the kind of thing I'd advertise to the higher-ups...

10) The look. LA looks like, well, LA. Even in the areas that can play for someplace else, you're not going to have snow. And it's going to be hard to avoid seeing palm trees.

Here's the bottom line: you have to choose the correct solution for the project, not just give some knee-jerk reaction. Automatically choosing to shoot in LA is no better than automatically choosing to shoot in Argentina.

Frankly, no place is perfect. The trick is to calculate which place is likely to be the most perfect.

Is Hollywood the next Detroit?

An ad agency art director I know recently booked his first job in Argentina. He's having such a good experience that he wonders whether domestic film production –– like lots of other American industries –– is destined for oblivion, a victim of offshoring.

This question seems to come up every time somebody shoots their first production overseas –– and I mean always. Even back in 1992, when I shot my first overseas job, the old-timers rolled their eyes at my naive enthusiasm for the experience.

Back in 1992, the US dollar was incredibly strong. And even though a lot of productions took advantage of the bargains available, it wasn't tax incentives that kept the production communities in Hollywood and New York viable. Didn't hurt, of course, but there are plenty of other reasons people will pay a premium to shoot there.

1) The language barrier. You're not going to find an abundance of talented American-sounding performers. So if you have on-camera dialogue, you still have to cast in the States and travel them. (You can find actors who can sound American in Canada, of course –– arguably more than you can find in parts of LA.) This goes beyond actors, by the way. As a director, I need to be able to communicate seamlessly with my DP, Wardrobe, Makeup, Art Department, AD, and production team. I'm fortunate in that I speak Spanish, which makes working in a lot of places easier for me.

2) The look barrier. Sure, people in other countries can often look American. (The last time I was in Switzerland, I was stunned by how much more American they looked than Americans.) But that's just the white people. if you're looking for ethnic diversity, you might not find what you need. We couldn't find black people in any great numbers in Argentina. And there aren't a ton of Mexicans in Canada.

3) The look barrier, part 2. I once shot a job in Mallorca, part of which needed to look like an American suburb. How hard could that be, right? Turns out there's one house on the entire island that would play. We scouted Barcelona, too, to see if we could find other options there. Nothing. Thank God for the one house and some creative angles.

4) Believable performances. Most American directors don't speak Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Bulgarian, or Russian; most Argentine, Spanish, Mexican, Brazilian, Czech, Bulgarian, and Russian actors don't speak English. It's funny how being able to communicate directly with your actors generally results in a better performance.

5) A dearth of equipment. Sure, you can find most of what you need, but if you get into specialized stuff, you have to bring it in.

6) Travel costs. This applies to commercials more than films. For a four-day shoot or more, it can be very economical, but when you're talking a one- or two-day job, your travel costs become disproportionate to your overall budget.

7) Fear. I can't believe how difficult it can be to convince a lot of the people who have to okay your decisions that the world beyond our borders is "civilized."

8) Convenience. For clients or investors with other things to deal with than the masterpiece you're working on, getting on a plane for nine hours is a deal-killer. Hell, it's hard to convince some people to seriously consider taking a 2 1/2 commuter flight to Portland, Oregon, where the costs are lower, the crews are extraordinary, the talent pool is extensive, and the native population speaks English.

9) The US dollar. Right now it's ridiculously low. I can still get a bargain when I take productions to certain parts of Canada, Spain, Argentina, Mexico, etc., but frankly, I save almost as much by shooting in Portland and by the way, I get to ride my bike to the set.

8) Habit. Same thing that keeps ad agencies and studios shooting with (INSSERT DIFFICULT A-LIST DIRECTOR'S NAME HERE), even though they could get a much better piece, and have a much more pleasant experience, trying out someone less famous and more enthusiastic.

10) Specific issues with regard to look. Sure, you can bring in light switches, bathroom fixtures, elevator buttons, traffic signs, electrical outlets, appliances, license plates, all the things that are subtle giveaways that the piece you're looking at isn't quite American, but I once had a box of T-shirts held by Canadian customs for eight months because they were convinced I was importing them for resale. You really want to take that chance?

11) Efficiency of production. Yep, there are great crews and production teams everywhere in the world. But you can't touch the depth, knowledge, efficiency, and speed of the teams in Hollywood and New York.

12) Insurance. If your camera goes down in Hollywood, you can have another one on your set in the time it takes to drive from point A to point B. Sure, with traffic that can be more than an hour. But try that in most of the other destinations we like to shoot in. And then think about your more specialized stuff, which there might be one of in the entire country, with no backup to be had at any price.

13) Extensive secondary resources. Hollywood and New York have entire ecosystems dedicated to the stuff that we're familiar with. Any craft service person knows to put a plastic tub of Twizzlers on the table. Any hair stylist knows what a flat-top looks like. And any wardrobe person understands the subtle distinctions between a Patagonia jacket and a Columbia Sportswear one. Sure, a breakfast burrito isn't a reason, in itself, to keep productions in Hollywood. But the little things add up.

14) Stupid bureaucrats with weapons. I've had more than my share of arguments with armed airport personnel who insisted that my cans of film were not going to cross their border until each one was opened up and inspected by hand. Even in the age of digital production, there are still plenty of opportunities for some low-level bureaucrat to exert power in a way that costs you tens of thousands of dollars.

15) Hidden costs. In lots of places around the world, an outstretched hand isn't an offer to shake. And I'm not just talking about guys with leaf blowers who show up as soon as the camera truck pulls to a stop. In Morocco, for instance, it was amazing how many people claimed to be the king's brother-in-law.

I'm sure there are other reasons, but these are the ones that came to mind immediately. Anybody care to add to the list?