Licking my wounds from yesterday's fiasco: my first interview with an editorial candidate who can make a longer trailer for this film as we apply for grants that require 6-10 min. trailers. It was such a fiasco that I sat in the car afterward and called a good friend who is a filmmaker on the East Coast.
"Marlan!" she said. "Get this through your head: all editors--okay not all, but most--are professional button pushers. They don't care about your project and they are not writers so they don't understand story."
I had high hopes for this one candidate because she was the only applicant to even mention that she'd clicked on a link that I'd posted with the ad and viewed the 4-min. pitch video we made last year. She also mentioned that it was "impressive" and she would try to adhere to my "vision" and give suggestions if I welcomed them along the way.
Perfect, I thought. Perfect.
Two weeks ago, I put an ad on Craigslist and except for this one, all the responses were the same. Everybody said they were interested. Nobody mentioned that they knew anything about this subject or the project, although I'd posted links where they could easily find out all about it.
Most common response was this and only this:
"Yes! I can do it!"
So I was hopeful this woman would be The One. Then came the red flags.
Red Flag No. 1: She explained via e-mail that I would have to drive to the Valley to meet with her in a cafe because her husband would have the car. And that she was "crazy busy" one week so we'd have to meet the following week. This means that I would drive 30 minutes to get to where she was. Buy coffee. And showing her any footage would be awkward to say the least.
Would I be willing to drive there periodically (hopefully to her home eventually)? If it meant getting this trailer made for grant funding, then yes. After all, the editor for the last trailer was also female and had a boyfriend who needed the car and she worked at home, so I thought nothing of driving to North Hollywood to collaborate with her. Since I live in the Hollywood area, it's not that far. Just takes some time.
Red Flag No. 2: Pre-Interview
I parked next door to the cafe because I couldn't find it. Then I found it but I could not find her. We stupidly did not tell each other what we looked like so I assumed she'd be waiting outside, laptop or notebook in hand. Wrong.
Owing to a prescient impulse, I dialed her number as I approached the front door and she answered, saying, "I'm already inside." So I go inside and the place is tiny with lots of customers, but I don't see anyone talking on a cellphone.
"I'm sitting on the left side," she says. I look to my left. Nobody on a cellphone or waving.
"I don't see you," I say. "Could you wave?" Nothing at all. Nobody waving. Am I in a parallel universe? She keeps insisting that she's "right here."
"This isn't working for me," I mutter, getting peeved and hoping my tone will bring her out of the woodwork to tap my shoulder and laugh and say, "Hi!" But this does not happen.
I go outside and look to my right, and there she is. Sitting at a little table in an alcove for folks who might want fresher air with their coffee and shelter from rain. Does she stand up? No. She waves.
When I approach, she stands, shakes my hand and tells me to move my car to the street because the cafe prefers that their parking lot only be used for 5 minute customers.
I move my car.
When I get back, she suggests we move to a quieter spot in the alcove. After we accomplish that, she asks if I'd like to get coffee. She already has some and it's cold outside. So I find myself fuming, standing in a line waiting for servers to get to me from behind the counter where they appear overwhelmed by the surge of morning business. In an ordinary world, I'm usually standing there with the person I'm supposed to meet and as we wait, we chat. But not today.
By the time I get my coffee, paid my $2.00, and sat down with her, the situation feels odd. But it's time for the next red flag:
It turns out that she hasn't done her homework on this project although there is a website, a former Indiegogo fundraising page still up for viewing, and a Facebook fan page that is active. All those sites have all the info on the project which has been going on since 'o4, seen many crew members come and go, featured them in detail (including my former co-producer in the Bay Area)--and explained this complex topic and vision for this film about the budding activist (Yuri Kochiyama, born "Mary Nakahara") who masterminded a letter-writing campaign between the girls and women behind the barbed wire of the Japanese American internment and their fighting men who were in World War II. They called themselves "The Crusaders" and it has taken years to gather key interviews with four of the survivors--including key interviews with Yuri herself who was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize for her tireless civil rights activism.
Where to begin? I start by explaining who Yuri was when she was 20 and interned.The candidate stops me: "Wait. Are you saying these concentration camps were here? In the U.S.?"
Sigh. Well, I take hope in the fact that when I worked with the young people who were in my play about this topic, they also were learning about this shameful period of history for the first time.
Long story short: After 20 minutes of my trying to explain who Yuri was; who The Crusaders were, and update this "candidate" on how much footage there is, what's available and what needs to be converted to what format...she grows impatient and cuts me off.
She says she wants to give me a "quote" but can't do that unless she knows what exactly she's expected to do on this editing job. I ask her to tell me what she knows already about it. She closes her notebook, stands up and declares the interview over.
That's when I went to my car and called my friend who warned me not to push the "button pushers."
Did it ruin my day? Yes, it did. My friend had advised me to call out "NEXT!" but somehow this waste of time that was supposed to be an interview hung out with me the rest of the day. By 6pm, I had turned off my phone and gone to bed. At 3 a.m. when I woke up, I found an irate e-mail from this same woman telling me off.
She said that she was not used to hearing the "story" until an agreement had been reached and payment made. She said I wasted her time by telling her the story for 20 minutes. And she advised me to get a "producer" for the film who could communicate with editors.
How old was this person? I'm guessing maybe just out of college. From the Midwest. Been here a year. How old am I? Much much older with a B.F.A. from USC Film School and documentaries under my belt that have been shown around the world.
She went on and on actually. I didn't really read the rest of it. All I gathered was that her day had also been ruined, and she'd felt disturbed. Is it possible that somewhere in the back of that mind she was wondering if she'd turned down a worthwhile project? Or is she just the type who needs the Last Word? There were no words at the end of our meeting. Just silent parting of ways.
Or is it really I who need the last word? I've put off writing about my work on this film for so very long. It has been a tangled, often painful process. And it has been a joy when the going is good.
Since I am launching this diary as a blog to keep myself in tune with the daily toil of production, I will give this advice to prospective editors who apply for "trailer" jobs for indie productions. When you interview:
So yes, I am looking for an editor again. No, I still do not have my own equipment and my own computers are too antiquated to view even the raw footage. Yes, I am still financially teetering on the edge of oblivion with this project and my own life. No, I will not stop trying to make this film.
And yes, I have made films before. I have edited before. My films have been shown at film festivals around the world. And I have my film degree from USC (Class of '90). So why does every venture out into the production world feel like the "first time"?
Last summer, when I tried to line up an editor to help me make a longer trailer so that we can submit to funders who require a more in-depth trailer than the 4-min. one that is now up and running, I put another ad on Craigslist and it was "flagged" as "Inappropriate" and taken down by idiot trolls who do this kind of thing. I tried again and the same thing happened.
A month ago, I met a filmmaker who explained that if that happens, just run the ad again. And again. And again.
So. A few weeks ago, I took a deep breath and posted on Craigslist for an editor--explaining re the deferred pay, providing links to the film project's website and last fundraising page on Indiegogo which has the trailers and all the information (and I mean all) on it.
At this time last year, I did the same thing and got very very lucky. Two applicants were willing and talented. I went with the first and after a month when it became clear that we were not really communicating about what I wanted, I went with the next one whose time for the project would be more limited than the first's, but she possessed not only amazing skills and a lovely personality, but a profound understanding and enthusiasm for this film's subject.
I learned the key to successfully working with an editor was to give a precise outline and shot list, and some leeway for input in certain spots. Also it helps to have an editor who really "gets" the material. In the case of this film, with its sprawling raw footage and my unique vision, that is a tough call sometimes....but not impossible.
The last editor is so wonderful that she was already lining up well-paying gigs with production companies which meant she actually could not give that trailer the ending we'd talked about, and that would have added 2 minutes. When it came time for me to apply for grants, guess what? They ask for 6-10 min. for the trailer so they can see what it will look like before doling out $$.
Update:
After I posted this, I read the rest of that candidate's angry e-mail. She said a lot of mean things. I am trying to grasp how a 20-minute meeting for a potential job could make a candidate so furious with the interviewer. Is this a time for soul searching? Or is it like speed dating and we just need to put it behind us and move on?
She indicated that she might flag my Craigslist ads if she sees one.
When I talked with my friend by phone yesterday, I told her that I had one applicant who seems like a lovely person with a strong visual sense to his reel, but I was afraid he might be too young to grasp the material. He has already expressed interest in shooting the rest of the stuff we need to shoot here in Los Angeles.
So when I was done with my depression and sadness this morning, I called him and left a message asking him to please please look at what we have so far on the websites, and if he has feedback and wants to discuss being the editor for this next trailer, to call me.
He did. Not only did he look at the websites but he said he spent a good half-hour studying the trailer as it is now and the historical background. As he talked, he did not seem to take umbrage with my need to fill him in on the who, what, why, when and where. He is not only super-bright but honest about what is and isn't clear in the trailer as it stands now.
We are meeting tomorrow at Noon.
11:13 a.m. on Wednesday, February 7, 2013. Hope springs eternal. Note to Self: Let this one have input. Listen. Stay aware. Sort through and sift. Condense and clarify. Be less complicated. Stay true to what needs to be said and how to say it best.
"Marlan!" she said. "Get this through your head: all editors--okay not all, but most--are professional button pushers. They don't care about your project and they are not writers so they don't understand story."
I had high hopes for this one candidate because she was the only applicant to even mention that she'd clicked on a link that I'd posted with the ad and viewed the 4-min. pitch video we made last year. She also mentioned that it was "impressive" and she would try to adhere to my "vision" and give suggestions if I welcomed them along the way.
Perfect, I thought. Perfect.
Two weeks ago, I put an ad on Craigslist and except for this one, all the responses were the same. Everybody said they were interested. Nobody mentioned that they knew anything about this subject or the project, although I'd posted links where they could easily find out all about it.
Most common response was this and only this:
"Yes! I can do it!"
So I was hopeful this woman would be The One. Then came the red flags.
Red Flag No. 1: She explained via e-mail that I would have to drive to the Valley to meet with her in a cafe because her husband would have the car. And that she was "crazy busy" one week so we'd have to meet the following week. This means that I would drive 30 minutes to get to where she was. Buy coffee. And showing her any footage would be awkward to say the least.
Would I be willing to drive there periodically (hopefully to her home eventually)? If it meant getting this trailer made for grant funding, then yes. After all, the editor for the last trailer was also female and had a boyfriend who needed the car and she worked at home, so I thought nothing of driving to North Hollywood to collaborate with her. Since I live in the Hollywood area, it's not that far. Just takes some time.
Red Flag No. 2: Pre-Interview
I parked next door to the cafe because I couldn't find it. Then I found it but I could not find her. We stupidly did not tell each other what we looked like so I assumed she'd be waiting outside, laptop or notebook in hand. Wrong.
Owing to a prescient impulse, I dialed her number as I approached the front door and she answered, saying, "I'm already inside." So I go inside and the place is tiny with lots of customers, but I don't see anyone talking on a cellphone.
"I'm sitting on the left side," she says. I look to my left. Nobody on a cellphone or waving.
"I don't see you," I say. "Could you wave?" Nothing at all. Nobody waving. Am I in a parallel universe? She keeps insisting that she's "right here."
"This isn't working for me," I mutter, getting peeved and hoping my tone will bring her out of the woodwork to tap my shoulder and laugh and say, "Hi!" But this does not happen.
I go outside and look to my right, and there she is. Sitting at a little table in an alcove for folks who might want fresher air with their coffee and shelter from rain. Does she stand up? No. She waves.
When I approach, she stands, shakes my hand and tells me to move my car to the street because the cafe prefers that their parking lot only be used for 5 minute customers.
I move my car.
When I get back, she suggests we move to a quieter spot in the alcove. After we accomplish that, she asks if I'd like to get coffee. She already has some and it's cold outside. So I find myself fuming, standing in a line waiting for servers to get to me from behind the counter where they appear overwhelmed by the surge of morning business. In an ordinary world, I'm usually standing there with the person I'm supposed to meet and as we wait, we chat. But not today.
By the time I get my coffee, paid my $2.00, and sat down with her, the situation feels odd. But it's time for the next red flag:
It turns out that she hasn't done her homework on this project although there is a website, a former Indiegogo fundraising page still up for viewing, and a Facebook fan page that is active. All those sites have all the info on the project which has been going on since 'o4, seen many crew members come and go, featured them in detail (including my former co-producer in the Bay Area)--and explained this complex topic and vision for this film about the budding activist (Yuri Kochiyama, born "Mary Nakahara") who masterminded a letter-writing campaign between the girls and women behind the barbed wire of the Japanese American internment and their fighting men who were in World War II. They called themselves "The Crusaders" and it has taken years to gather key interviews with four of the survivors--including key interviews with Yuri herself who was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize for her tireless civil rights activism.
Where to begin? I start by explaining who Yuri was when she was 20 and interned.The candidate stops me: "Wait. Are you saying these concentration camps were here? In the U.S.?"
Sigh. Well, I take hope in the fact that when I worked with the young people who were in my play about this topic, they also were learning about this shameful period of history for the first time.
Long story short: After 20 minutes of my trying to explain who Yuri was; who The Crusaders were, and update this "candidate" on how much footage there is, what's available and what needs to be converted to what format...she grows impatient and cuts me off.
She says she wants to give me a "quote" but can't do that unless she knows what exactly she's expected to do on this editing job. I ask her to tell me what she knows already about it. She closes her notebook, stands up and declares the interview over.
That's when I went to my car and called my friend who warned me not to push the "button pushers."
Did it ruin my day? Yes, it did. My friend had advised me to call out "NEXT!" but somehow this waste of time that was supposed to be an interview hung out with me the rest of the day. By 6pm, I had turned off my phone and gone to bed. At 3 a.m. when I woke up, I found an irate e-mail from this same woman telling me off.
She said that she was not used to hearing the "story" until an agreement had been reached and payment made. She said I wasted her time by telling her the story for 20 minutes. And she advised me to get a "producer" for the film who could communicate with editors.
How old was this person? I'm guessing maybe just out of college. From the Midwest. Been here a year. How old am I? Much much older with a B.F.A. from USC Film School and documentaries under my belt that have been shown around the world.
She went on and on actually. I didn't really read the rest of it. All I gathered was that her day had also been ruined, and she'd felt disturbed. Is it possible that somewhere in the back of that mind she was wondering if she'd turned down a worthwhile project? Or is she just the type who needs the Last Word? There were no words at the end of our meeting. Just silent parting of ways.
Or is it really I who need the last word? I've put off writing about my work on this film for so very long. It has been a tangled, often painful process. And it has been a joy when the going is good.
Since I am launching this diary as a blog to keep myself in tune with the daily toil of production, I will give this advice to prospective editors who apply for "trailer" jobs for indie productions. When you interview:
- Do your homework on the project. Research the topic if it's obscure. Read the website if there is one for the film.
- Do Google the producer or director or whoever it is who will be hiring you. Know who they are so you don't end up insulting them unintentionally by giving them advice on how to make a film and how to work with an editor (unless they ask for it).
- Don't just respond to ads with "I can do it!" Try to explain why you are the best fit for this particular project. This saves everyone time. Also if you do not want to work for deferred pay, please note this in your response (my ads state clearly that the editor will be paid when funds are available and under written agreement, but I get lots of applicants who don't appear to understand this.)
- Do be polite. You are not all that. You may think the world of yourself and your abilities, but you still need to either prove it to your prospective employer or part ways in a professional manner (i.e., no after-interview evaluation and criticism of the person who at one time thought your work good enough to ask you to interview for their project).
- Do let your interviewer know even before the meeting if you want to take time with the project to get it right artistically or if you are, in fact, more skilled at "pushing buttons" (no shame in that, but just be honest).
So yes, I am looking for an editor again. No, I still do not have my own equipment and my own computers are too antiquated to view even the raw footage. Yes, I am still financially teetering on the edge of oblivion with this project and my own life. No, I will not stop trying to make this film.
And yes, I have made films before. I have edited before. My films have been shown at film festivals around the world. And I have my film degree from USC (Class of '90). So why does every venture out into the production world feel like the "first time"?
Last summer, when I tried to line up an editor to help me make a longer trailer so that we can submit to funders who require a more in-depth trailer than the 4-min. one that is now up and running, I put another ad on Craigslist and it was "flagged" as "Inappropriate" and taken down by idiot trolls who do this kind of thing. I tried again and the same thing happened.
A month ago, I met a filmmaker who explained that if that happens, just run the ad again. And again. And again.
So. A few weeks ago, I took a deep breath and posted on Craigslist for an editor--explaining re the deferred pay, providing links to the film project's website and last fundraising page on Indiegogo which has the trailers and all the information (and I mean all) on it.
At this time last year, I did the same thing and got very very lucky. Two applicants were willing and talented. I went with the first and after a month when it became clear that we were not really communicating about what I wanted, I went with the next one whose time for the project would be more limited than the first's, but she possessed not only amazing skills and a lovely personality, but a profound understanding and enthusiasm for this film's subject.
I learned the key to successfully working with an editor was to give a precise outline and shot list, and some leeway for input in certain spots. Also it helps to have an editor who really "gets" the material. In the case of this film, with its sprawling raw footage and my unique vision, that is a tough call sometimes....but not impossible.
The last editor is so wonderful that she was already lining up well-paying gigs with production companies which meant she actually could not give that trailer the ending we'd talked about, and that would have added 2 minutes. When it came time for me to apply for grants, guess what? They ask for 6-10 min. for the trailer so they can see what it will look like before doling out $$.
Update:
After I posted this, I read the rest of that candidate's angry e-mail. She said a lot of mean things. I am trying to grasp how a 20-minute meeting for a potential job could make a candidate so furious with the interviewer. Is this a time for soul searching? Or is it like speed dating and we just need to put it behind us and move on?
She indicated that she might flag my Craigslist ads if she sees one.
When I talked with my friend by phone yesterday, I told her that I had one applicant who seems like a lovely person with a strong visual sense to his reel, but I was afraid he might be too young to grasp the material. He has already expressed interest in shooting the rest of the stuff we need to shoot here in Los Angeles.
So when I was done with my depression and sadness this morning, I called him and left a message asking him to please please look at what we have so far on the websites, and if he has feedback and wants to discuss being the editor for this next trailer, to call me.
He did. Not only did he look at the websites but he said he spent a good half-hour studying the trailer as it is now and the historical background. As he talked, he did not seem to take umbrage with my need to fill him in on the who, what, why, when and where. He is not only super-bright but honest about what is and isn't clear in the trailer as it stands now.
We are meeting tomorrow at Noon.
11:13 a.m. on Wednesday, February 7, 2013. Hope springs eternal. Note to Self: Let this one have input. Listen. Stay aware. Sort through and sift. Condense and clarify. Be less complicated. Stay true to what needs to be said and how to say it best.
