Around the Block: Doug Block's Doc Blog

Addicted To Good Filmmaking

Had to tear myself away from a quality Tribeca Film Festival party for "Jesus Camp" to catch the 10pm screening of "I Am A Sex Addict" at the IFC Theater. I know, I know... life is filled with tough choices.  But I wanted to see Sex Addict with an audience in a theater and I'm really glad I did.

I expected to admire it, which I did in spades, but I didn't expect to enjoy it so much.  It reminded me of early Woody Allen, a kind of sex-obsessed Take The Money And Run.  And like the Woodster, filmmakers who make comedy look easy aren't always apreciated by critics.  It's funny and formally brilliant, and that's a really tough combination to pull off.  A lot of hard work went into making it, as the long list of consultants in the credits will attest.

Some have knocked Caveh's presence in the film, but I found him hilarious and touching.  It would have been interesting if my wife could have joined me.  Based on my description, she expects that she'll like the film but not Caveh.  I wonder.  Asking her to see it with me is sort of like Caveh asking his girlfriend to accompany him while he visits a prostitute.  We'll find out when the dvd comes out.  Already looking forward to seeing it a second time, especially with all the extras.

Why I Haven't Written A Word About The Nashville Film Festival ('Til Now)

I'm not saying I'm suceptible to the power of suggestion, but there are recent disturbing signs... 

At Full Frame, I caught the first 30 minutes of Alan Berliner's insomnia doc, Wide Awake, then woke up early every morning of the festival, unable to get back to sleep.

Then, about a week ago, I read Anthony Kaufman muse about what a giant time suck his blog has become.  I like reading Anthony muse about as much as anyone out there, and lo and behold, cause and effect, I haven't been able to bring myself to write a single word about 51 Birch Street at Nashville since I came back on Saturday. 

I guess what it comes down to is I'm afraid of staying up late blogging, and even more afraid if I go to sleep I'll just wake up early thinking of hairy-chested Alan Berliner rolling around in his bed.

But being the dedicated bloggist I am, who believes there's a kind of sacred public trust between reader and blogger, I'll summon all my powers of concentration and tell you everything there is to say about Nashville the festival, Nashville the experience:

It rained the whole time.

(Okay, I'll admit I was tempted to end it right there and give us all a good chuckle.  But for the few and the mighty out there who actually care, here are some scattered notes...)

• My wife is with me, so we actually see the local sights.  Downtown (lower Broadway) is practically deserted mid-day. 
• (Festival director) Brian Gordon's glasses rival Al Maysles's.
• Opening night party is pretty sparsely attended.  Brian's got a lot more work to do building up excitement in the city.
• Daytime doc screenings are even more sparsely attended.  What, people actually work for a living here?
• James Longley tells me maybe 30 people showed up for Iraq in Fragments.  Maybe 50 showed for The Trials of Darryl Hunt (in a huge theater). 
• Trials is a powerful film - I can see why it's winning audience awards.  And the editor, Shannon Kennedy, is working on Esther Robinson's new doc, The Danny Williams Story (which I happen to be producing with Esther).  We're in good hands.
• 51 Birch Street has a great time slot (7:20 on Friday night).  Another sold out screening.  It's a great audience.  They laugh loudly at all the right moments, they're hushed at all the right moments.
• Marjorie does the Q&A with me.  Hardly anyone leaves 'til we get kicked out.
• I discover distributor Debbie Zimmerman (Women Make Movies) will be on the same jury with me at IDFA this year.  Meanwhile, Debbie's a juror for the doc competition, which 51 Birch is eligible for.  We're gonna have some interesting things to talk about in Amsterdam.
• Marjorie and I have to cut out after two days.  I've been organizing a reunion of my college dorm mates (30 years later) and it takes place Sunday.  30 people show up, 50 more send regrets and want to be kept in the loop.  We're setting up a web page for photos, a message board and contact info.  Another day, another community formed.
• Brian calls to request another screening of 51 Birch Street, by popular demand.  It's today (Wed.) at 4:45pm, if you're in the neighborhood.

The Art of Producing

Tonight in Philadelphia, I'm giving a seminar on "The Art of Producing" at the Scribe Video Center.  It's been fun gathering my thoughts together this past week, and thought I'd jot down some of them here, in no particular order of importance:

* Producing is the art of con.  Con being convincing.  Con being a contribution.  Con being consistent.  Con being considerate.

* If you focus on how your film will make a contribution to others instead of how it will contribute to your career, you'll do just fine.  And you'll have no trouble raising the money you need.

* People want to contribute to you and your project far more than you'd ever imagine.  They're just waiting to be asked.  A good producer knows how to allow people to contribute powerfully.

* The most important thing to master as a producer is the ability to describe your film compellingly in 30 seconds or less.  And to be ready to do it at any time without warning.

* One of the biggest problems inexperienced producers make is their budgets are too low.  Funders are far more suspicious of that then budgets being too high.

* If you're serious about raising money, watch how you talk about money, watch how you dress around people with money.  If you say things like "Documentaries never make money," or "Documentary filmmaking isn't a sustainable career," then, guess what?

* Distribution and outreach is something that should be planned for from the very beginning.  Start building your email list.  Put up a website and have an email signup form.  Keep in touch with your mailing list frequently throughout production and post-production. 

* Always think long term.  It's not just about the current film, it's about sustaining a career over time.  So always make agreements and keep to your word.  Your most important attribute is your integrity.

* Producing is mostly negotiating and selling, and learning how to maintain your enthusiasm in the face of rejection.

* It sounds stupid, but the best way of getting into festivals, getting attention for your film, and getting distribution deals is to make a really good film.  Stop worrying about your festival strategy and worry about whether your story is working.

* My favorite quote about producing, directing and just being a human being, in general (wish I knew who said it): "We wouldn't worry so much about what other people think of us if we knew how seldom they do."

A Legendary Screening at Full Frame

Try to imagine standing before a wildly cheering audience after the showing of your very personal film at the country's most prestigious documentary film festival.  You look off to the right and there's D.A. Pennebaker and Chris Hegedus.  Right up front in the first row sits Ross McElwee (whose Sherman's March inspired you to make personal documentaries in the first place).  To your left sits the Al Maysles (with those unmistakeable glasses).  And there hovering in the back is Ricky Leacock.

Only in your dreams, right?

Add to this pantheon of legends some of the doc friends and colleagues you respect most.  Folks like James Longley (Iraq in Fragments), Steve Ascher and Jeanne Jordan (So Much So Fast), Tom Lennon (Terry Sanford and the New South), Steve Bognar and Julia Reichert (A Lion in the House) and Nick Doob (Al Franken: God Spoke).

Maybe that's why the 51 Birch Street screening at Full Frame seemed like the stuff of fantasy.  But it really happened, and two days later I'm still basking in the afterglow.

The day before I'd sat with Jeanne through the long (over 4 hours!), emotionally devastating Lion filled with admiration for the dedication and humanity of Steve and Julia, and for the courage of their young doomed subjects (children dying of cancer – not exactly penguin material).  I'd been wanting to write Julia ever since I learned she was stricken with cancer herself while at Sundance.  It was nice to have the chance to let her and Steve know how proud they made me feel to be a documentary filmmaker.  But, man, I was a wreck afterwards!

Thank God I could go see an impressionistic portrait of war-torn Iraq to pick up my spirits (the brilliant Iraq in Fragments).  I’ve known James for quite a while online – he’s one of our more active D-Word members – but had never met him.  All those Sundance awards have made him a doc star (the film would later pick up the Full Frame Grand Jury Prize), but he’s a quiet and very humble guy.  We celebrated his good fortune over a sprawling seafood dinner (and many pitchers of beer) with Lori, Michelle and, let’s see, Josh Gilbert (aka Tommy Chong), juror Rachel Boynton (Our Brand is Crisis), Zach Niles and Banker White (The Refugee All Stars) and Toronto doc programmer Thom Powers, among others.

Before my own screening, I took in the festival’s tribute to Ricky Leacock, which is the reason all those legends found their way down to Durham in the first place.  Ross mentioned he would try to make my film, but I was a bit shell-shocked to see all the others file in later, too.  The showing was sold out, with the packed waiting line extending down a long staircase and hallway, a good half-hour before the start time.

In my excitement, Lori and I didn’t do a very thorough tech check, and the contrast and brightness ended up way too high, giving the image muddy grays and an overall washed out, over-exposed look.  So the screening itself was pretty excruciating for me.   But clearly not for the audience.

The Q&A went by pretty much in a blur.  My oldest sister, Ellen, had scored some frequent flyer tickets at the last minute, so I pulled her up front with Lori.  She handled a couple of questions with real aplomb.  Meanwhile, I vaguely remember someone bluntly asking me about my own marriage, and if I married someone more like my mother or my father. 

“Marjorie’s a bit like my mother,” I acknowledged.  “Only the sex is better.”  Luckily, they all laughed.  I think.

Afterward, Ross came up and gave me a hug, and Al put his hands on my shoulders and told me how impressed he was that I could tell so honest a story without making anyone a villain.  Many of us repaired to the Marriott’s bar for drinks, and I definitely drank in the moment.  Later, at the A&E party, any number of people, including festival director Nancy Biurski, approached me and Lori to say that everyone was talking about how great our film is. 

Long after the shuttle buses had shut down for the night, I hitched a ride back to the filmmaker's hotel with Annie Sundberg (The Trials of Darryl Hunt), who promptly got totally lost on the back roads of rural North Carolina.  Needless to say, I barely got any sleep, but I didn't care.  A small price to pay for one of the all-time great days of my life.

Not So Wide Awake At Full Frame

Getting down to my first Full Frame was, unlike Eugene Hernandez's experience, a pleasant little jaunt.  Had a eye-opening talk with Bejing journalist Michelle Wang, and exchanged pleasantries with Nick Doob, who I shared camera credit - and Oliver North on the warpath stories - with on A Perfect Candidate. 

Managed to catch the first half of In Transit on my laptop dvd player.  It's a sympathetic but tough look at the lives of rape survivors in war-torn Democratic Republic of Congo.  It will show as a DocuClub works-in-progress screening and discussion that I'll be moderating on Sunday.  Wanted to prepare myself in advance for that.

Went straight to the Marriott to register and it was like old home week - caught up with old friends like Judith Helfand and Robert West, Wendy Ettinger, Annie Sundberg, Sharon Sklar, and later Milton Tabbot, Gil Karni, Steve Ascher and Jeannie Jordan.  And that's just for starters.  This is gonna be a fun fest.

Except for the hotel situation.  The hotel housing the filmmakers is a good 5 miles from the festival headquarters and theaters.  Shuttle buses go every half hour, but it's just a complete pain in the ass and everyone is complaining.

The opening night film was exceptional, Sydney Pollack's Sketches of Frank Gehry.  Pollack's not a documentary filmmaker, as he's the first to acknowledge, but I thought he did a brilliant job of capturing Gehry's genius and his artistic process.  I'd heard a bit of badmouthing of the film beforehand and at Toronto, and it always helps when you go in with lowered expectations.  But it's an inspiring film, and I was totally in the mood.

Wish I could say the same for My Grandmother's House.  This is exactly the reverse case - it won the Joris Ivens Competition at IDFA, was lauded for its visual style, and I went in expecting a lot (for full disclosure, 51 Birch Street was also in the Joris Ivens Competition).  Granted, I was going on 4 hours of sleep, but I found the camerawork quite shoddy, and the editing way too fractured and restless. 

I've been wanting to see Alan Berliner's Wide Awake for a while, so I cut out early and scooted down the hall.  But a doc about insomnia isn't exactly what the doc orders when you've barely slept for the past few weeks.  I just couldn't get into it, and kept looking at my watch knowing I'd better not miss the shuttle bus if I want to get some sleep.

Naturally, Alan was sitting by the door and noticed my leaving.  But I figure if anyone would understand...

More Raves For 51 Birch Street

When you've got a film to sell, it's always nice when a succession of great reviews do the selling for you.  And, for 51 Birch Street, they happily seem to be doing the trick.  Things are heating up on the distribution front, according to our gifted and ever-so-patient sales rep, Josh Braun.  More details to follow soon, hopefully.

Meanwhile, here's some of the latest poop, courtesy of Google alerts...

51 Birch Street gets the Philadelphia Weekly's highest grade among films reviewed for the Philadelphia Film Festival, but calls the filmmaker Douglas Block.  You should know, my mother was the only one who ever called me Douglas.  And only when she was mad.

My buddy at the Boston Phoenix, Gerald Peary, writes that 51 Birch was one of his favorite docs at South by Southwest (that's my mom and dad in that stunning b&w photo).

And the Raleigh-Durham Independent Weekly, in an advance look at the Full Frame Festival, writes that the film captures "the anxiety of the postwar suburban family that animated such diverse American writers as Friedan, Updike and Moody."  Sweet.

My favorite bite, though, is from Sarasota, where the local Herald Tribune breathlessly reports that Mike and Kitty Block will be among the guest celebrities attending this week's Sarasota Film Festival.

I'll be at Full Frame, and the limits of human cloning technology will prevent me from being with 51 Birch Street at Sarasota.  So my dad and Kitty will be doing the Q&A in my place on Friday and Saturday.   I swear, next thing you know our family will be lining up for their autographs at Passover.

More from Full Frame to follow.  I'm really looking forward to it.  I've heard many great things about it over the years, and, while Home Page screened there, this is my first time going.  There will be a lot of familiar faces, but mainly I'm looking forward to seeing a lot of great docs.