The Smugness of Film Critics
I don't mind if a film critic doesn't like my film, or expresses an opinion contrary to mine. That's fair and healthy and kind of fun. What I find objectionable is the smugness of film critics. By that I mean the tone they take in writing about a film. It is a tone of omniscience. Most film critics write as if what they are saying is incontrovertible truth, as if they were scientists simply describing the objective workings of molecules. But art criticism isn't a science. It's an art. And it has no more claim to objectivity than a rorschach test.
This is a tone issue. It is possible to express an opinion in a way that acknowledges its subjectivity. And it is also possible to express an opinion as if it were God's truth.
Let me give two examples. The first example, from Owen Gleiberman of Entertainment Weekly, while negative is nonetheless aware of its subjectivism:
"I wish that the actresses playing Zahedi's wives and girlfriends weren't so L.A.-model sexy compared to the real, earthy women themselves (whom we glimpse in home-movie footage)..."
Well, that's fair. He wishes the film were different than it is (at least in this one respect), and that's legitimate and true. I can agree or disagree but it's certainly not smug.
Now here's a smug one, from Carina Chocano at the L.A. Times:
"Zahedi tries to construct a narrative from his epic bad behavior, presumably for the purpose of shedding light on something. What this is remains mysterious after a single viewing, but not so mysterious as to inspire a second."
She writes well, and with a certain flair, but with absolutely no acknowledgment of her own subjectivism. The tone of her sentences is one of "authority." As a result, her sentences are untrue. What I am attempting to shed light on is not, in fact, mysterious after a single viewing. It is mysterious only to her. And it is not true that the film fails to inspire a second viewing. It only fails to inspire a second viewing in her.
One could argue that subjectivism is implicit in film reviews, but I disagree. One could also argue that subjectivism is implicit in documentaries, but it's not. Self-reflexive documentaries (such as mine) foreground their subjectivism, and that makes all the difference in their truth quotient and in their political implications.
Carina Chocano, like George W. Bush, is convinced that she's right. I find this both reactionary and dangerous, not because a film review can do anywhere near the harm of a George W. Bush, but because it strengthens and legitimates a certain kind of unreflexive discourse. Owen Gleiberman, on the other hand, manages to be critical and at the same time to foreground his own subjectivity. This is not only a more enlightened approach to film criticism, it is also a much more positive contribution to the politics of public discourse in general.
I don't mind if a film critic doesn't like my film, or expresses an opinion contrary to mine. That's fair and healthy and kind of fun. What I find objectionable is the smugness of film critics. By that I mean the tone they take in writing about a film. It is a tone of omniscience. Most film critics write as if what they are saying is incontrovertible truth, as if they were scientists simply describing the objective workings of molecules. But art criticism isn't a science. It's an art. And it has no more claim to objectivity than a rorschach test.
This is a tone issue. It is possible to express an opinion in a way that acknowledges its subjectivity. And it is also possible to express an opinion as if it were God's truth.
Let me give two examples. The first example, from Owen Gleiberman of Entertainment Weekly, while negative is nonetheless aware of its subjectivism:
"I wish that the actresses playing Zahedi's wives and girlfriends weren't so L.A.-model sexy compared to the real, earthy women themselves (whom we glimpse in home-movie footage)..."
Well, that's fair. He wishes the film were different than it is (at least in this one respect), and that's legitimate and true. I can agree or disagree but it's certainly not smug.
Now here's a smug one, from Carina Chocano at the L.A. Times:
"Zahedi tries to construct a narrative from his epic bad behavior, presumably for the purpose of shedding light on something. What this is remains mysterious after a single viewing, but not so mysterious as to inspire a second."
She writes well, and with a certain flair, but with absolutely no acknowledgment of her own subjectivism. The tone of her sentences is one of "authority." As a result, her sentences are untrue. What I am attempting to shed light on is not, in fact, mysterious after a single viewing. It is mysterious only to her. And it is not true that the film fails to inspire a second viewing. It only fails to inspire a second viewing in her.
One could argue that subjectivism is implicit in film reviews, but I disagree. One could also argue that subjectivism is implicit in documentaries, but it's not. Self-reflexive documentaries (such as mine) foreground their subjectivism, and that makes all the difference in their truth quotient and in their political implications.
Carina Chocano, like George W. Bush, is convinced that she's right. I find this both reactionary and dangerous, not because a film review can do anywhere near the harm of a George W. Bush, but because it strengthens and legitimates a certain kind of unreflexive discourse. Owen Gleiberman, on the other hand, manages to be critical and at the same time to foreground his own subjectivity. This is not only a more enlightened approach to film criticism, it is also a much more positive contribution to the politics of public discourse in general.
Blog Holiday
Today's my birthday, and I am taking a blog holiday!
Today's my birthday, and I am taking a blog holiday!
Hate Mail
One thing I've noticed about all of my films is that they tend to engender a tremendous amount of hostility in some people. For instance, this recent blog comment from "Anonymous":
"Where is your reaction to the LA Times review? The one that TOTALLY NAILS YOU? Thank god your children are celluloid and not flesh and blood."
What's odd to me about comments like this one is the amount of personal preoccupation that they display. If I don't like a film, I simply avoid it. I don't troll the blog of the person who made it, waiting impatiently for their response to the latest review.
It's almost as if these people feel they are on a mission. Their fervor is quasi-religious. One senses, palpably, that they feel that they are the upholders of morality, and that it is their duty (as well as their pleasure) to denounce me and my work.
The L.A. Times review in question took a similar stance, and focused on my "bad behavior," with no ability to discern the film's dramatic irony or self-consciousness. Such readings are surprisingly simplistic, yet not wholly unexpected. What is more interesting is the degree of venom that the film seems to elicit.
I remember when Gummo came out, and how the mostly withering (and utterly uncomprehending) reviews accused Harmony Korine of cruelty to cats. The inability of critics to distinguish between the views and actions of his characters and those of Harmony Korine himself was maddeningly jejune. That critics would have an even harder time distinguishing between the views and actions of Caveh the real-life character in the movie and Caveh the real-life director making a film about those events years later is, I suppose, to be expected. And yet, it reveals such an utter lack of sophistication, not only about the history of cinema but even about the classics of literature of the twentieth century, that one wonders how these film critics get their jobs.
My friends tell me I should be glad to get hate mail. It means the film is pressing buttons. So be it:
"Dear Anonymous,
Thank you so much for your kind posting on my blog. It means a lot to me that you feel so passionately about my work. Please keep 'em coming.
Best,
Caveh"
One thing I've noticed about all of my films is that they tend to engender a tremendous amount of hostility in some people. For instance, this recent blog comment from "Anonymous":
"Where is your reaction to the LA Times review? The one that TOTALLY NAILS YOU? Thank god your children are celluloid and not flesh and blood."
What's odd to me about comments like this one is the amount of personal preoccupation that they display. If I don't like a film, I simply avoid it. I don't troll the blog of the person who made it, waiting impatiently for their response to the latest review.
It's almost as if these people feel they are on a mission. Their fervor is quasi-religious. One senses, palpably, that they feel that they are the upholders of morality, and that it is their duty (as well as their pleasure) to denounce me and my work.
The L.A. Times review in question took a similar stance, and focused on my "bad behavior," with no ability to discern the film's dramatic irony or self-consciousness. Such readings are surprisingly simplistic, yet not wholly unexpected. What is more interesting is the degree of venom that the film seems to elicit.
I remember when Gummo came out, and how the mostly withering (and utterly uncomprehending) reviews accused Harmony Korine of cruelty to cats. The inability of critics to distinguish between the views and actions of his characters and those of Harmony Korine himself was maddeningly jejune. That critics would have an even harder time distinguishing between the views and actions of Caveh the real-life character in the movie and Caveh the real-life director making a film about those events years later is, I suppose, to be expected. And yet, it reveals such an utter lack of sophistication, not only about the history of cinema but even about the classics of literature of the twentieth century, that one wonders how these film critics get their jobs.
My friends tell me I should be glad to get hate mail. It means the film is pressing buttons. So be it:
"Dear Anonymous,
Thank you so much for your kind posting on my blog. It means a lot to me that you feel so passionately about my work. Please keep 'em coming.
Best,
Caveh"
Studio 360
Today, Studio 360, the weekly radio show hosted by Kurt Anderson, aired a segment on I Am A Sex Addict. The segment was created by Jonathan Mitchell, who also plays a small part in the film as "the voyeur."
The segment does a lovely job getting to the heart of what the film is really about - namely encouraging people to feel a little less ashamed.
Today, Studio 360, the weekly radio show hosted by Kurt Anderson, aired a segment on I Am A Sex Addict. The segment was created by Jonathan Mitchell, who also plays a small part in the film as "the voyeur."
The segment does a lovely job getting to the heart of what the film is really about - namely encouraging people to feel a little less ashamed.
If a Film Is a Child
Making a film has often been compared to giving birth: the moment of conception is the funnest part, followed by a long period of gestation (i.e. nausea), and culminating in an unimaginably painful delivery (which occasionally involves the cinematic equivalent of a c-section).
But the metaphor doesn't stop there. Because once the baby/film is born, it requires almost constant feeding, sleepless nights, and endless worrying. It is a truism of independent cinema that the birthing (i.e. production) is the easy part. The really hard part is the parenting (i.e. distribution).
But what constitutes good parenting? Should a parent be permissive or strict? Extremely attentive or somewhat detached? There is probably no single right way to parent a child/film. But some parents are clearly negligent, and leave the child unattended for long stretches, while others micromanage the child's every move.
I have been a negligent parent with my first three children (A Little Stiff, I Don't Hate Las Vegas Anymore, and In the Bathtub of the World), and vowed to be a better parent to my youngest child (I Am A Sex Addict). In doing so, I have perhaps fallen into the opposite trap and become too controlling.
But putting one's film out into the world is like deciding what school to send one's child to, and any parent can testify to how stressful and difficult that can be. If I send the kid to public school, he or she will probably get beaten up. But if I send the kid to private school, how will I pay the bills?
I had no choice but to send my child/film to public school. And my child/film is getting beaten up. The bigger kids (films with bigger marketing budgets and stars) can cut in front of my child/film at the cafeteria, or shake my child/film down for his or her lunch money. And the school bullies (the critics) can taunt my child/film with impunity, and if my child/film fights back, then that just makes them even more vicious.
The biggest bully in school (Anthony Lane) wrote a below-the-belt review of my film in the school paper and my child/film challenged him to a fight after school. He pretended not to hear (bullies are notorious cowards - if you challenge them, they will either fight dirty or run home crying), and instead wrote a new, even more below-the-belt review of my film.
So the question is: how to handle bullies? Should one fight back? Or should one let oneself be pummeled and not retaliate, whether from a desire to appear stoic or from fear of later retribution?
Everyone learns how to deal with bullies in his or her own way. But if a film is a child, then it's painful to see one's child coming home from school with a black eye. And it is very tempting to want to teach one's child the art of jiu-jitsu.
Making a film has often been compared to giving birth: the moment of conception is the funnest part, followed by a long period of gestation (i.e. nausea), and culminating in an unimaginably painful delivery (which occasionally involves the cinematic equivalent of a c-section).
But the metaphor doesn't stop there. Because once the baby/film is born, it requires almost constant feeding, sleepless nights, and endless worrying. It is a truism of independent cinema that the birthing (i.e. production) is the easy part. The really hard part is the parenting (i.e. distribution).
But what constitutes good parenting? Should a parent be permissive or strict? Extremely attentive or somewhat detached? There is probably no single right way to parent a child/film. But some parents are clearly negligent, and leave the child unattended for long stretches, while others micromanage the child's every move.
I have been a negligent parent with my first three children (A Little Stiff, I Don't Hate Las Vegas Anymore, and In the Bathtub of the World), and vowed to be a better parent to my youngest child (I Am A Sex Addict). In doing so, I have perhaps fallen into the opposite trap and become too controlling.
But putting one's film out into the world is like deciding what school to send one's child to, and any parent can testify to how stressful and difficult that can be. If I send the kid to public school, he or she will probably get beaten up. But if I send the kid to private school, how will I pay the bills?
I had no choice but to send my child/film to public school. And my child/film is getting beaten up. The bigger kids (films with bigger marketing budgets and stars) can cut in front of my child/film at the cafeteria, or shake my child/film down for his or her lunch money. And the school bullies (the critics) can taunt my child/film with impunity, and if my child/film fights back, then that just makes them even more vicious.
The biggest bully in school (Anthony Lane) wrote a below-the-belt review of my film in the school paper and my child/film challenged him to a fight after school. He pretended not to hear (bullies are notorious cowards - if you challenge them, they will either fight dirty or run home crying), and instead wrote a new, even more below-the-belt review of my film.
So the question is: how to handle bullies? Should one fight back? Or should one let oneself be pummeled and not retaliate, whether from a desire to appear stoic or from fear of later retribution?
Everyone learns how to deal with bullies in his or her own way. But if a film is a child, then it's painful to see one's child coming home from school with a black eye. And it is very tempting to want to teach one's child the art of jiu-jitsu.
Entomologists vs Mammalians
In my experience, there are two kinds of film critics: the entomologists and the mammalians.
The entomologists are those critics who use primarily entomological metaphors to describe my physical appearance.
The mammalians are those critics who use primarily mammalian metaphors to describe me.
Entomologists:
Stephen Holden (New York Times) - "...an unattractive creature who resembles a human bug..."
Nathan Lee (New York Times) - "...a grasshopper of a man..."
Stephen Rea (Philadelphia Inquirer) - "...a thin, bug-eyed fellow..."
Robert Horton (Seattle Herald) - "...bulging eyes and arms that hang down like forgotten wings..."
Andrew O'Hehir (Salon.com) - "...a skinny, slightly bug-eyed guy..."
Mammalians:
Owen Gleiberman (Entertainment Weekly) - "A tense, squirrelly man..."
Neva Chonin (San Francisco Chronicle) - "...his eyes expand to lemur proportions..."
Jolie Williamson (Pittsburgh Tribune) - "...like a hairless chihuahua..."
Randy Myers (Contra Costa Times) - "...an odd-looking duck..."
Roger Moore (Orlando Sentinel) - "...homely little weasel..."
In my experience, there are two kinds of film critics: the entomologists and the mammalians.
The entomologists are those critics who use primarily entomological metaphors to describe my physical appearance.
The mammalians are those critics who use primarily mammalian metaphors to describe me.
Entomologists:
Stephen Holden (New York Times) - "...an unattractive creature who resembles a human bug..."
Nathan Lee (New York Times) - "...a grasshopper of a man..."
Stephen Rea (Philadelphia Inquirer) - "...a thin, bug-eyed fellow..."
Robert Horton (Seattle Herald) - "...bulging eyes and arms that hang down like forgotten wings..."
Andrew O'Hehir (Salon.com) - "...a skinny, slightly bug-eyed guy..."
Mammalians:
Owen Gleiberman (Entertainment Weekly) - "A tense, squirrelly man..."
Neva Chonin (San Francisco Chronicle) - "...his eyes expand to lemur proportions..."
Jolie Williamson (Pittsburgh Tribune) - "...like a hairless chihuahua..."
Randy Myers (Contra Costa Times) - "...an odd-looking duck..."
Roger Moore (Orlando Sentinel) - "...homely little weasel..."
Collateral Damage
Today, I saw a recent article from the Hollywood Reporter. It is about how Alex Steyermark, a director who made a film that was financed by Mark Cuban, was told by his distributor (Magnolia Pictures) that his film had been pulled from a theater that is owned by Cablevision (which also owns IFC Films) in retaliation for my film (which is being distributed by IFC Films) having been pulled from the Landmark Theater chain (which is owned by Mark Cuban).
I hope it's not true. I've never met the guy, but the idea that our films are both being penalized because of a turf war that has nothing to do with either of us is both absurd and distressing. I wish Alex Steyermark and his film nothing but the best, and I hope that Mark Cuban and Cablevision can figure out a way to resolve their differences that doesn't involve collateral damage.
Today, I saw a recent article from the Hollywood Reporter. It is about how Alex Steyermark, a director who made a film that was financed by Mark Cuban, was told by his distributor (Magnolia Pictures) that his film had been pulled from a theater that is owned by Cablevision (which also owns IFC Films) in retaliation for my film (which is being distributed by IFC Films) having been pulled from the Landmark Theater chain (which is owned by Mark Cuban).
I hope it's not true. I've never met the guy, but the idea that our films are both being penalized because of a turf war that has nothing to do with either of us is both absurd and distressing. I wish Alex Steyermark and his film nothing but the best, and I hope that Mark Cuban and Cablevision can figure out a way to resolve their differences that doesn't involve collateral damage.
On Turning the Other Cheek
In the long historical debate between idealism and self-acceptance, I have tended to oscillate wildly between one extreme and the other. But lately, I've mostly come down on the side of self-acceptance. And my films, if they are about anything, are about exactly that. There is nothing even remotely idealistic about them, to the chagrin of some critics who prefer their films covered over with a glaze of idealism.
Lately, I have experienced this preference for idealism in the form of blog attacks. Here is the latest:
"I'm so sick of you WHINING about the critics and using them to promote YOURSELF. You iritate the F*CK out of me and, while I wanted to see your movie, I will no longer see it because of your rants, self-absorption, and fondling of your ego when critics don't fondle it for you. You cleary put up a defense and can't handle the critics. Either stop making movies or accept it. You seem to think you're "important" enough to yourself to defned your movie. Pathetic."
This was written by someone who posted their name as "No More" and left no return e-mail address. But it's not the only one. There was also a recent post on the IFC Blog in which Alison Willmore (she, at least, has the courage to use her own name) finds it "unbefitting for any filmmaker to attempt to engage his or her critics the way Zahedi has."
What surprises me about these blog postings is the unquestioned assumption that it is somehow undignified to respond to erroneous accusations and misperceptions. But isn't that what communication is all about? Isn't that what conversation is for?
Granted, it would be a lot simpler to say nothing about the absurd criticisms that my film has received, and I suppose that, for some, this would give me the appearance of a dignity that I apparently otherwise lack. Well, my film is an attack on a certain notion of dignity, and I find it fascinating that my blog postings seem to be provoking even more overt hostility than my more obviously provocative film.
The more tempting criticism is the Christian one: turn the other cheek. This is a tricky injunction, and one that I actually subscribe to. But there is a fine line between turning the other cheek, and letting errors go unchecked. If I have been harsher in responding to my critics than necessary, I apologize for it. But to say nothing whatsoever is to let them get away with it, and is the moral equivalent of letting, say, the Bush administration get away with their perpetual lying. The media in this country has, for the most part, failed to do their job, and it has fallen on the bloggers to compensate for their gullibility and cowardice.
So to those who would rather I didn't respond to my critics, don't go see my film. You won't like it.
In the long historical debate between idealism and self-acceptance, I have tended to oscillate wildly between one extreme and the other. But lately, I've mostly come down on the side of self-acceptance. And my films, if they are about anything, are about exactly that. There is nothing even remotely idealistic about them, to the chagrin of some critics who prefer their films covered over with a glaze of idealism.
Lately, I have experienced this preference for idealism in the form of blog attacks. Here is the latest:
"I'm so sick of you WHINING about the critics and using them to promote YOURSELF. You iritate the F*CK out of me and, while I wanted to see your movie, I will no longer see it because of your rants, self-absorption, and fondling of your ego when critics don't fondle it for you. You cleary put up a defense and can't handle the critics. Either stop making movies or accept it. You seem to think you're "important" enough to yourself to defned your movie. Pathetic."
This was written by someone who posted their name as "No More" and left no return e-mail address. But it's not the only one. There was also a recent post on the IFC Blog in which Alison Willmore (she, at least, has the courage to use her own name) finds it "unbefitting for any filmmaker to attempt to engage his or her critics the way Zahedi has."
What surprises me about these blog postings is the unquestioned assumption that it is somehow undignified to respond to erroneous accusations and misperceptions. But isn't that what communication is all about? Isn't that what conversation is for?
Granted, it would be a lot simpler to say nothing about the absurd criticisms that my film has received, and I suppose that, for some, this would give me the appearance of a dignity that I apparently otherwise lack. Well, my film is an attack on a certain notion of dignity, and I find it fascinating that my blog postings seem to be provoking even more overt hostility than my more obviously provocative film.
The more tempting criticism is the Christian one: turn the other cheek. This is a tricky injunction, and one that I actually subscribe to. But there is a fine line between turning the other cheek, and letting errors go unchecked. If I have been harsher in responding to my critics than necessary, I apologize for it. But to say nothing whatsoever is to let them get away with it, and is the moral equivalent of letting, say, the Bush administration get away with their perpetual lying. The media in this country has, for the most part, failed to do their job, and it has fallen on the bloggers to compensate for their gullibility and cowardice.
So to those who would rather I didn't respond to my critics, don't go see my film. You won't like it.
God Spoke
Tonight, I saw Chris Hegedus and Nick Doob's "God Spoke," their documentary on Al Franken. Wow!!!
Tonight, I saw Chris Hegedus and Nick Doob's "God Spoke," their documentary on Al Franken. Wow!!!
Dear David Poland
I just read your incredibly insightful and illuminating review of my film, I Am A Sex Addict. Wow, you sure can write. And I really like that picture of you on your blog. You look just like James Garner, except even hipper. You seem so smart, I can't even imagine how anybody could be that smart. I mean, wow.
You're absolutely right (you are such a wise person!) when you write: "Most irritating is the notion that Zahedi's effort here is one of some kind of raw honesty." You know, you found me out. I wasn't being honest at all. In fact, I made all that stuff up about having sex with prostitutes. I've actually never been to a prostitute. I've only read about it in books. I just thought it would make me popular with the girls.
I also really thought you hit the nail on the head when you wrote: "He's horny, charming, and not particularly physically attractive." It's true! I'm not particularly physically attractive. You noticed! I'm not nearly as physcially attractive as Tom Cruise for instance. And, judging by your photo, I'm not nearly as physically attractive as you either. Or James Garner whom you so uncannily resemble.
But here's the really brilliant part. You write:
"Ironically, what Zahedi seems to see as sophisticated, progressive filmmaking is, to me, an old, mediocre Woody Allen script as told by a guy who feels free to make most of the movie about the dirty parts of Allen's movies that we never actually see."
Now that is insightful! In fact, I did take an old Woody Allen script (I chose a mediocre one so nobody would notice, but of course, you noticed!). And I did to the Woody Allen script what Tom Stoppard did to "Hamlet" in "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead." I took all the parts that we never actually see, and I showed those parts. You are so perceptive! You are the first critic to point out the Woody Allen connection. You have an eye like an eagle, and a mind like a steel trap.
Or this prose gem: "It is not Godard." How true! The film was not directed by Jean-Luc Godard. How did you know?
But this is the most insightful comment of all:
"Unfortunately, you can't blame the low budget for all of the clunkiness of some of his set pieces in which he is trying to execute recognizable bits he has clearly watched for decades on TV and film."
That's so true. Everything in my movie is from something I saw on TV. In fact, that's how I wrote the script. I tried to remember all of my favorite TV shows, and just cobbled together my favorite moments from each one. It's actually really easy. You just need to have watched a lot of TV as a kid, which I did.
Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for getting it right. You are the best film reviewer I have ever read, and you seem to me to have an encyclopedic knowledge not only of film (you really hit the nail on the head with that Godard reference), but of the arts and sciences in general. I only hope that I can be as smart as you one day, and I wish to God (I know this is not possible, but I wish it were) that I were as physically attractive as you.
Keep up the fantastic work. I plan to read all of your future reviews with enthusiasm and, dare I say, reverence.
Also, I wanted to thank you for being so honest about your own sex addiction. That was incredibly honest and courageous of you, and I salute you for it. I only wish I were as honest and courageous as you.
Maybe in my next film.

I just read your incredibly insightful and illuminating review of my film, I Am A Sex Addict. Wow, you sure can write. And I really like that picture of you on your blog. You look just like James Garner, except even hipper. You seem so smart, I can't even imagine how anybody could be that smart. I mean, wow.
You're absolutely right (you are such a wise person!) when you write: "Most irritating is the notion that Zahedi's effort here is one of some kind of raw honesty." You know, you found me out. I wasn't being honest at all. In fact, I made all that stuff up about having sex with prostitutes. I've actually never been to a prostitute. I've only read about it in books. I just thought it would make me popular with the girls.
I also really thought you hit the nail on the head when you wrote: "He's horny, charming, and not particularly physically attractive." It's true! I'm not particularly physically attractive. You noticed! I'm not nearly as physcially attractive as Tom Cruise for instance. And, judging by your photo, I'm not nearly as physically attractive as you either. Or James Garner whom you so uncannily resemble.
But here's the really brilliant part. You write:
"Ironically, what Zahedi seems to see as sophisticated, progressive filmmaking is, to me, an old, mediocre Woody Allen script as told by a guy who feels free to make most of the movie about the dirty parts of Allen's movies that we never actually see."
Now that is insightful! In fact, I did take an old Woody Allen script (I chose a mediocre one so nobody would notice, but of course, you noticed!). And I did to the Woody Allen script what Tom Stoppard did to "Hamlet" in "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead." I took all the parts that we never actually see, and I showed those parts. You are so perceptive! You are the first critic to point out the Woody Allen connection. You have an eye like an eagle, and a mind like a steel trap.
Or this prose gem: "It is not Godard." How true! The film was not directed by Jean-Luc Godard. How did you know?
But this is the most insightful comment of all:
"Unfortunately, you can't blame the low budget for all of the clunkiness of some of his set pieces in which he is trying to execute recognizable bits he has clearly watched for decades on TV and film."
That's so true. Everything in my movie is from something I saw on TV. In fact, that's how I wrote the script. I tried to remember all of my favorite TV shows, and just cobbled together my favorite moments from each one. It's actually really easy. You just need to have watched a lot of TV as a kid, which I did.
Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for getting it right. You are the best film reviewer I have ever read, and you seem to me to have an encyclopedic knowledge not only of film (you really hit the nail on the head with that Godard reference), but of the arts and sciences in general. I only hope that I can be as smart as you one day, and I wish to God (I know this is not possible, but I wish it were) that I were as physically attractive as you.
Keep up the fantastic work. I plan to read all of your future reviews with enthusiasm and, dare I say, reverence.
Also, I wanted to thank you for being so honest about your own sex addiction. That was incredibly honest and courageous of you, and I salute you for it. I only wish I were as honest and courageous as you.
Maybe in my next film.

Two Guys Three Heads
I recently got an e-mail from two guys who do a podcast called "Two Guys Three Heads." Their last podcast was about the MySpace censoring of "I Am A Sex Addict." I love these guys. Here's their podcast:
I recently got an e-mail from two guys who do a podcast called "Two Guys Three Heads." Their last podcast was about the MySpace censoring of "I Am A Sex Addict." I love these guys. Here's their podcast:
Was ist ein blog?
What is a blog, and what is it for?
I was asked to start a blog by IFC. They thought it would be a good way to help promote the film. It sounded like an interesting challenge, so I said okay.
At first, I wasn't sure what to write about, and I felt like a blind person groping in the dark. What should I write about exactly? What would people be interested in reading about?
I decided to focus on the distribution of "I Am A Sex Addict," because, as a filmmaker myself, that's a subject that interests me. I remember how much I enjoyed reading Steven Soderbergh's diaries about the making of "Sex, Lies, and Videotape," or Spike Lee's diaries about the making of "She's Gotta Have It."
One of the interesting things about being a filmmaker, and this is especially true if you make personal films in which you put yourself out there, is that people will attack you. Critics will attack you, some viewers will attack you, and even people who have never seen your film will attack you. The good news is that this is great practice for overcoming the desire to be liked. The bad news is that it can feel like the stations of the cross.
One of the interesting things about having a blog is that anyone can attack you anytime and can do so anonymously. At least with film critics, their names are on their reviews. But with a blog, anyone can post a hostile comment, without any kind of accountability. In short, a blog, like a personal film, can serve as a lightning-rod for free-floating cyberspace aggression.
I'm not sure what to do with these anonymous hostile comments. Should I delete them or is it better to leave them up? I'm not sure what the protocol is, or if people would rather see them than not. I personally find them to be bad vibes, and I am tempted to delete them. But I'm curious to hear what other people think.
What is a blog, and what is it for?
I was asked to start a blog by IFC. They thought it would be a good way to help promote the film. It sounded like an interesting challenge, so I said okay.
At first, I wasn't sure what to write about, and I felt like a blind person groping in the dark. What should I write about exactly? What would people be interested in reading about?
I decided to focus on the distribution of "I Am A Sex Addict," because, as a filmmaker myself, that's a subject that interests me. I remember how much I enjoyed reading Steven Soderbergh's diaries about the making of "Sex, Lies, and Videotape," or Spike Lee's diaries about the making of "She's Gotta Have It."
One of the interesting things about being a filmmaker, and this is especially true if you make personal films in which you put yourself out there, is that people will attack you. Critics will attack you, some viewers will attack you, and even people who have never seen your film will attack you. The good news is that this is great practice for overcoming the desire to be liked. The bad news is that it can feel like the stations of the cross.
One of the interesting things about having a blog is that anyone can attack you anytime and can do so anonymously. At least with film critics, their names are on their reviews. But with a blog, anyone can post a hostile comment, without any kind of accountability. In short, a blog, like a personal film, can serve as a lightning-rod for free-floating cyberspace aggression.
I'm not sure what to do with these anonymous hostile comments. Should I delete them or is it better to leave them up? I'm not sure what the protocol is, or if people would rather see them than not. I personally find them to be bad vibes, and I am tempted to delete them. But I'm curious to hear what other people think.
The Film of Tomorrow
"The film of tomorrow appears to me as even more personal than an individual and autobiographical novel, like a confession, or a diary. The young filmmakers will express themselves in the first person and will relate what has happened to them. It may be the story of their first love or their most recent; of their political awakening; the story of a trip, a sickness, their military service, their marriage, their last vacation...and it will be enjoyable because it will be true, and new...The film of tomorrow will not be directed by civil servants of the camera, but by artists for whom shooting a film constitutes a wonderful and thrilling adventure. The film of tomorrow will resemble the person who made it, and the number of spectators will be proportional to the number of friends the director has. The film of tomorrow will be an act of love."
- Francois Truffaut
Arts magazine, May 1957

"The film of tomorrow appears to me as even more personal than an individual and autobiographical novel, like a confession, or a diary. The young filmmakers will express themselves in the first person and will relate what has happened to them. It may be the story of their first love or their most recent; of their political awakening; the story of a trip, a sickness, their military service, their marriage, their last vacation...and it will be enjoyable because it will be true, and new...The film of tomorrow will not be directed by civil servants of the camera, but by artists for whom shooting a film constitutes a wonderful and thrilling adventure. The film of tomorrow will resemble the person who made it, and the number of spectators will be proportional to the number of friends the director has. The film of tomorrow will be an act of love."
- Francois Truffaut
Arts magazine, May 1957

Number 15
According to the latest Box Office figures, "I Am A Sex Addict" had the 15th highest per screen average this weekend ($3,816), down from #7 last weekend ($5,345). The film opened well in New York, with a weekend total of $9,130, but the per screen average was lower overall because the film had to share a screen in both Portland and Oakland. What is astonishing to me is that "I Am A Sex Addict" did better, on a per screen average, than "L'Enfant" (sad, but true), "The Devil and Daniel Johnston" (go see this), "Don't Come Knocking" (by Wim Wenders!), "Why We Fight" (go see this too), "Capote" (hard to believe), "Tristram Shandy" (I love that guy), and even "Brokeback Mountain" (unfuckin' believable). Granted, many of those films have been out a lot longer than my film, but still, it gives one pause.
My resolution for the day is to stop complaining. At least until tomorrow.
According to the latest Box Office figures, "I Am A Sex Addict" had the 15th highest per screen average this weekend ($3,816), down from #7 last weekend ($5,345). The film opened well in New York, with a weekend total of $9,130, but the per screen average was lower overall because the film had to share a screen in both Portland and Oakland. What is astonishing to me is that "I Am A Sex Addict" did better, on a per screen average, than "L'Enfant" (sad, but true), "The Devil and Daniel Johnston" (go see this), "Don't Come Knocking" (by Wim Wenders!), "Why We Fight" (go see this too), "Capote" (hard to believe), "Tristram Shandy" (I love that guy), and even "Brokeback Mountain" (unfuckin' believable). Granted, many of those films have been out a lot longer than my film, but still, it gives one pause.
My resolution for the day is to stop complaining. At least until tomorrow.
Kevin Rafferty
Today, I got a phone call from filmmaker Kevin Rafferty ("The Atomic Cafe"). I hadn't spoken to him in over ten years. He had just seen "I Am A Sex Addict" in New York. I had met him in Germany fifteen years ago, where some of the events depicted in the film take place, and he had recognized those events from the film.
Getting a phone call out of the blue from an old friend with whom one has lost touch is one of the great pleasures of being a working filmmaker. The last film of Kevin's that I saw was "Feed," his hilarious send-up of political candidates in the 1992 primaries. Kevin told me he's spent the past several years trying to make a film about the history of the United States in the last century using only footage from Hollywood films of the period. I would LOVE to see that film! Unfortunately, there have been money issues.
It's sad and crazy when a filmmaker as visionary as Kevin Rafferty can't get his films made. But it was great to hear his voice.
Today, I got a phone call from filmmaker Kevin Rafferty ("The Atomic Cafe"). I hadn't spoken to him in over ten years. He had just seen "I Am A Sex Addict" in New York. I had met him in Germany fifteen years ago, where some of the events depicted in the film take place, and he had recognized those events from the film.
Getting a phone call out of the blue from an old friend with whom one has lost touch is one of the great pleasures of being a working filmmaker. The last film of Kevin's that I saw was "Feed," his hilarious send-up of political candidates in the 1992 primaries. Kevin told me he's spent the past several years trying to make a film about the history of the United States in the last century using only footage from Hollywood films of the period. I would LOVE to see that film! Unfortunately, there have been money issues.
It's sad and crazy when a filmmaker as visionary as Kevin Rafferty can't get his films made. But it was great to hear his voice.
The Taboo Against Being Who You Are
I've been getting a lot of criticism recently criticising my critiques of film critics. The most common complaints are that I'm complaining too much, and that I should be less "whiny." I find this taboo interesting. There's an unwritten rule that the gentlemanly thing to do is to take any and all critical punches, however below the belt, without so much as a murmur. But I don't think it's "whiny" to publicly disagree with something a film critic says. I think it's communicative, and moreover, I think it's the right thing to do. Keeping silent in the face of misperception helps no one.
My film is a full frontal assault on the taboo against sexual honesty. That a reviewer as intelligent as Anthony Lane would misconstrue that sexual honesty as "boastfulness" merely shows the chasm between my film and the well-worn grooves of contemporary cinema to which Mr. Lane has become so accustomed as to not be able to see anything outside of its ontological purview.
Another complaint is that I'm criticizing critics who have been essentially positive in their reviews, and that this is counter-productive. But I'm not criticizing film critics because they are criticizing my film. I criticize my own film all the time. I'm criticizing film critics because I think they're not getting it at the most fundamental level, and I'm trying to help set the record straight. In short, I'm trying to have a conversation.
There is no dividing line between filmmaking and life. One doesn't just make a film and then put it out into the world. Every step along the way involves moral and esthetic decisions, and every thing one does (or does not do) is an act of communication. So why not speak out? It's a lot more fun than staying silent.
I've been getting a lot of criticism recently criticising my critiques of film critics. The most common complaints are that I'm complaining too much, and that I should be less "whiny." I find this taboo interesting. There's an unwritten rule that the gentlemanly thing to do is to take any and all critical punches, however below the belt, without so much as a murmur. But I don't think it's "whiny" to publicly disagree with something a film critic says. I think it's communicative, and moreover, I think it's the right thing to do. Keeping silent in the face of misperception helps no one.
My film is a full frontal assault on the taboo against sexual honesty. That a reviewer as intelligent as Anthony Lane would misconstrue that sexual honesty as "boastfulness" merely shows the chasm between my film and the well-worn grooves of contemporary cinema to which Mr. Lane has become so accustomed as to not be able to see anything outside of its ontological purview.
Another complaint is that I'm criticizing critics who have been essentially positive in their reviews, and that this is counter-productive. But I'm not criticizing film critics because they are criticizing my film. I criticize my own film all the time. I'm criticizing film critics because I think they're not getting it at the most fundamental level, and I'm trying to help set the record straight. In short, I'm trying to have a conversation.
There is no dividing line between filmmaking and life. One doesn't just make a film and then put it out into the world. Every step along the way involves moral and esthetic decisions, and every thing one does (or does not do) is an act of communication. So why not speak out? It's a lot more fun than staying silent.
The State of Film Criticism
The New Yorker review came out today. It was written by Anthony Lane, and like most of his reviews, was less about the film in question than about Mr. Lane's formidable wit. Mr. Lane writes well. He has a slithery ease with the pen which is almost reptilian in its meanderingness. If one loves the intricacies of prose (and I, for one, do), then one can read his reviews with real enjoyment. They are, in that sense, a form of entertainment, although of a resolutely recondite nature.
The problem with Mr. Lane's reviews is that they don't tell one much about the film. In this sense, Mr. Lane is less the servant of the reader than its buffoon. He is like the court jester trying to spin everything into a joke, no matter its gravity or urgency or true import.
This has, unfortunately, become the norm in film criticism. In the race to entertain to which we all must succumb in the end, content has been replaced with form. The ideal, it seems to me, would be a review in which content and form were one, but here content has been abandoned as too difficult, too demanding, and too much of a party pooper. So instead, critics don their party hats, and blow on their noise makers, and act drunk. It's alll fun.
The problem with this form of criticism is that it is blind to seriousness (and I'm not talking about seriousness in the narrow sense of humorlessness). The breezy, ironic tone of most film critics (of whom Mr. Lane is only one of many, unfortunately), while arguably entertaining, in the end serves no one, but only contributes to the on-going debasement of public discourse. It makes one nostalgic for the film criticism of a James Agee, or a Jonathan Rosenbaum, whose reviews not only manage to avoid the showoffy fluffiness of a Mr. Lane, but are positively punctilious in their rigor and willingness to actually grapple with the moral and esthetic issues present in each individual film.
Mr. Lane's review of my film is not negative, only irrelevant. He neither gets it nor addresses it. It is merely a pretext for him to wax eloquent about nothing whatsoever. According to him, the overriding reason to see my film is my uncanny resemblance to Harpo Marx. Well, it's very kind of him to say so, but whatever my resemblance to Harpo Marx may be, that's hardly the overriding reason to see my film. It is merely an example of Mr. Lane being funny (or at least thinking he's being funny).
You're very funny, Mr. Lane. Keep up the great work.
The New Yorker review came out today. It was written by Anthony Lane, and like most of his reviews, was less about the film in question than about Mr. Lane's formidable wit. Mr. Lane writes well. He has a slithery ease with the pen which is almost reptilian in its meanderingness. If one loves the intricacies of prose (and I, for one, do), then one can read his reviews with real enjoyment. They are, in that sense, a form of entertainment, although of a resolutely recondite nature.
The problem with Mr. Lane's reviews is that they don't tell one much about the film. In this sense, Mr. Lane is less the servant of the reader than its buffoon. He is like the court jester trying to spin everything into a joke, no matter its gravity or urgency or true import.
This has, unfortunately, become the norm in film criticism. In the race to entertain to which we all must succumb in the end, content has been replaced with form. The ideal, it seems to me, would be a review in which content and form were one, but here content has been abandoned as too difficult, too demanding, and too much of a party pooper. So instead, critics don their party hats, and blow on their noise makers, and act drunk. It's alll fun.
The problem with this form of criticism is that it is blind to seriousness (and I'm not talking about seriousness in the narrow sense of humorlessness). The breezy, ironic tone of most film critics (of whom Mr. Lane is only one of many, unfortunately), while arguably entertaining, in the end serves no one, but only contributes to the on-going debasement of public discourse. It makes one nostalgic for the film criticism of a James Agee, or a Jonathan Rosenbaum, whose reviews not only manage to avoid the showoffy fluffiness of a Mr. Lane, but are positively punctilious in their rigor and willingness to actually grapple with the moral and esthetic issues present in each individual film.
Mr. Lane's review of my film is not negative, only irrelevant. He neither gets it nor addresses it. It is merely a pretext for him to wax eloquent about nothing whatsoever. According to him, the overriding reason to see my film is my uncanny resemblance to Harpo Marx. Well, it's very kind of him to say so, but whatever my resemblance to Harpo Marx may be, that's hardly the overriding reason to see my film. It is merely an example of Mr. Lane being funny (or at least thinking he's being funny).
You're very funny, Mr. Lane. Keep up the great work.
The Art of Addition
As of today, "I Am A Sex Addict" has made $43,600 in domestic theatrical box office gross.
As of today, "I Am A Sex Addict" has made $43,600 in domestic theatrical box office gross.
Clarence Thomas is a Sex Addict
People often ask me what possessed me to make a film about my sex addiction. There are several reasons, but one of the main reasons is to help demolish the cultural stereotype about the kinds of people who engage in sexually compulsive behavior. The truth is that the number of sex addicts in this country is much larger than most people realize, and that some of the people one would least suspect are sex addicts.
When Anita Hill accused Republican Supreme Court Justice nominee Clarence Thomas of sexual harassment during his Senate confirmation hearings, Clarence Thomas' lawyers called as defense witnesses several of Thomas' female secretaries. These female secretaries all testified that Clarance Thomas was a very nice man, that he had never done anything sexually inappropriate in their presence, and that it was inconceivable to them that he could have done any of the things that Anita Hill had accused him of doing.
This defense, based on Thomas' "character," was also based on a fundamentally erroneous stereotype about the kinds of people who engage in sexual inappropriate behavior. The secretaries in question demonstrated a deep-seated ignorance about male sexuality and about the sexual behaviors that otherwise "nice" men are capable of. And yet, it was their testimony that "convinced" the all-male Senators in charge of the confirmation hearings (one of whom was Senator Ted Kennedy, another sex addict badly in need of a 12-step program) to dismiss Anita Hill's plausible and very detailed charges.
I believe Anita Hill because I am a sex addict and I know how sex addiction works. And Ted Kennedy should have known better as well. I believe that he did know, and that he allowed Clarence Thomas to be confirmed as a Supreme Court Judge so as not to have to face similar accusations himself.
If there had been more public awareness about what sex addiction is and how it functions, Clarence Thomas might not have been confirmed as a Supreme Court Justice of the United States. Which means that the 5-4 Supreme Court decision to forbid a recount and hand the presidency to Geoge W. Bush might not have happened. Which means that the Iraq war might not have happened. Which means that tens of thousands of innocent people who have died because of that war would still be alive today. Which also means that we might not have been saddled with this huge deficit, we might not have had our environmental protections gutted by greedy short-sighted millionaires, and we might not be experiencing the massive political disaffection that exists today.
This is all hypothetical, of course, but the point is that these things do have all kinds of social and political ramifications that end up affecting us all. If there had been more understanding of sexual addiction, President Clinton might not have felt the need to lie about his relations with Monika Lewinsky, and might have been able to get help instead of having to face impeachment proceedings. The Republicans might not have been able to exploit the sex scandal to their advantage and thereby succeed in eroding our constitutional system of checks and balances through a stranglehold on political power.
I am a sex addict, and I'm not the only one. And the more people who can get up the courage to come out and be honest about it, the better it will be for all of us.
People often ask me what possessed me to make a film about my sex addiction. There are several reasons, but one of the main reasons is to help demolish the cultural stereotype about the kinds of people who engage in sexually compulsive behavior. The truth is that the number of sex addicts in this country is much larger than most people realize, and that some of the people one would least suspect are sex addicts.
When Anita Hill accused Republican Supreme Court Justice nominee Clarence Thomas of sexual harassment during his Senate confirmation hearings, Clarence Thomas' lawyers called as defense witnesses several of Thomas' female secretaries. These female secretaries all testified that Clarance Thomas was a very nice man, that he had never done anything sexually inappropriate in their presence, and that it was inconceivable to them that he could have done any of the things that Anita Hill had accused him of doing.
This defense, based on Thomas' "character," was also based on a fundamentally erroneous stereotype about the kinds of people who engage in sexual inappropriate behavior. The secretaries in question demonstrated a deep-seated ignorance about male sexuality and about the sexual behaviors that otherwise "nice" men are capable of. And yet, it was their testimony that "convinced" the all-male Senators in charge of the confirmation hearings (one of whom was Senator Ted Kennedy, another sex addict badly in need of a 12-step program) to dismiss Anita Hill's plausible and very detailed charges.
I believe Anita Hill because I am a sex addict and I know how sex addiction works. And Ted Kennedy should have known better as well. I believe that he did know, and that he allowed Clarence Thomas to be confirmed as a Supreme Court Judge so as not to have to face similar accusations himself.
If there had been more public awareness about what sex addiction is and how it functions, Clarence Thomas might not have been confirmed as a Supreme Court Justice of the United States. Which means that the 5-4 Supreme Court decision to forbid a recount and hand the presidency to Geoge W. Bush might not have happened. Which means that the Iraq war might not have happened. Which means that tens of thousands of innocent people who have died because of that war would still be alive today. Which also means that we might not have been saddled with this huge deficit, we might not have had our environmental protections gutted by greedy short-sighted millionaires, and we might not be experiencing the massive political disaffection that exists today.
This is all hypothetical, of course, but the point is that these things do have all kinds of social and political ramifications that end up affecting us all. If there had been more understanding of sexual addiction, President Clinton might not have felt the need to lie about his relations with Monika Lewinsky, and might have been able to get help instead of having to face impeachment proceedings. The Republicans might not have been able to exploit the sex scandal to their advantage and thereby succeed in eroding our constitutional system of checks and balances through a stranglehold on political power.
I am a sex addict, and I'm not the only one. And the more people who can get up the courage to come out and be honest about it, the better it will be for all of us.
V.A. Musetto Is A Sex Addict
This week has been characterized by a slew of reviews, most of which have been extremeley positive but a few of which have been quite negative. And of course, being human, the negative ones are the ones that I end up obsessing about. Because even though I knew the film would piss a lot of people off, it still hurts when people say mean things about it (or about me).
It's especially upsetting when what a critic says is either patently absurd or patently untrue. For example, AM New York critic Jay Carr, who in a review of an earlier film of mine ("I Don't Hate Las Vegas Anymore") once called me a "twerp," writes:
"His narcissism is equaled only by his shallowness, triviality and humorlessness.
It might work if he had enough distance from himself to appear to truly be making fun of his compulsive chase after commercially available oral sex. But he doesn't appear to be goofing on his narcissism so much as indulging it...."
Well, anyone not mentally challenged can see right away that the film is neither humorless nor lacking in aesthetic distance. I can understand someone not liking the film, but for a film critic not to even get the film at its most basic level is unnerving.
More predictible but equally distressing is the indignant moralistic posturing of some critics, for whom the film seems to hit a little too close to home. These critics seem to feel an almost hysterical need to distance themselves from the film's content. For example, in the right-wing Rupert Murdoch-owned New York Post, V.A. Musetto writes:
"How many times can you listen to this obnoxious man's neurotic ramblings? And, you must wonder, what in hell did all those beautiful, intelligent women ever see in this scrawny, neurotic, sicko nerd?"
To call me a "sicko" in the context of a film review (I should mention that the film deliberately blurs the lines between character and filmmaker) is so vituperative an attack as to be almost comic. One senses the reviewer straining to assure the reader that he, unlike the filmmaker, is not a "sicko," and one can't help but notice that Mr. Musetto "doth protest too much."
Negative reviews are an inevitable part of being a filmmaker, and personal attacks are an inevitable by-product of making personal films that question the status quo. I wish I could say I don't mind at all, and that I just think it's kind of funny, but the truth is that it does get to you sometimes, and today was one of those days.
This week has been characterized by a slew of reviews, most of which have been extremeley positive but a few of which have been quite negative. And of course, being human, the negative ones are the ones that I end up obsessing about. Because even though I knew the film would piss a lot of people off, it still hurts when people say mean things about it (or about me).
It's especially upsetting when what a critic says is either patently absurd or patently untrue. For example, AM New York critic Jay Carr, who in a review of an earlier film of mine ("I Don't Hate Las Vegas Anymore") once called me a "twerp," writes:
"His narcissism is equaled only by his shallowness, triviality and humorlessness.
It might work if he had enough distance from himself to appear to truly be making fun of his compulsive chase after commercially available oral sex. But he doesn't appear to be goofing on his narcissism so much as indulging it...."
Well, anyone not mentally challenged can see right away that the film is neither humorless nor lacking in aesthetic distance. I can understand someone not liking the film, but for a film critic not to even get the film at its most basic level is unnerving.
More predictible but equally distressing is the indignant moralistic posturing of some critics, for whom the film seems to hit a little too close to home. These critics seem to feel an almost hysterical need to distance themselves from the film's content. For example, in the right-wing Rupert Murdoch-owned New York Post, V.A. Musetto writes:
"How many times can you listen to this obnoxious man's neurotic ramblings? And, you must wonder, what in hell did all those beautiful, intelligent women ever see in this scrawny, neurotic, sicko nerd?"
To call me a "sicko" in the context of a film review (I should mention that the film deliberately blurs the lines between character and filmmaker) is so vituperative an attack as to be almost comic. One senses the reviewer straining to assure the reader that he, unlike the filmmaker, is not a "sicko," and one can't help but notice that Mr. Musetto "doth protest too much."
Negative reviews are an inevitable part of being a filmmaker, and personal attacks are an inevitable by-product of making personal films that question the status quo. I wish I could say I don't mind at all, and that I just think it's kind of funny, but the truth is that it does get to you sometimes, and today was one of those days.
Mark Cuban's Loud Silence
Last week, Mark Cuban asserted that the reason he wouldn't play my film at his Landmark Theaters was because IFC hadn't offered Landmark any ancillary revenue sharing. I responded to Mark Cuban's assertion by suggesting that if this was in fact his main reason for pulling my film from his Landmark theaters, then why not simply propose a negotiated revenue sharing arrangement with IFC? A week has gone by, and Mark Cuban has been uncustomarily silent.
Today, I sent him the following e-mail:
Hey Mark,
I never heard back from you in response to my last e-mail proposing that we resolve the IFC/Comcast/Landmark Theaters issue by negotiating some kind of revenue-sharing deal (which you yourself proposed) in exchange for playing my film at your Landmark Theaters.
Also, just so you know, my film (which debuted at #7 at the specialty box office) outperformed many of the other films playing at your Landmark Theaters last week, despite the fact that those other films did not have a simultaneous day and date release.
The good news, for you as well as for me, is that day and date works. My film (unlike "Bubble") proves that a film can be released simultaneously through video on demand (all the time, and anytime) and still do significant business at the box office. This will no doubt help to dispel the anxieities of those theater owners who are worried about the impact that day and date will have on their grosses. A film that people want to see is still a film that people want to see. In the end, that is the only thing that will count - commercial viability. When and how a film is released will always be secondary to whether or not there is an audience for it.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Best,
Caveh
Last week, Mark Cuban asserted that the reason he wouldn't play my film at his Landmark Theaters was because IFC hadn't offered Landmark any ancillary revenue sharing. I responded to Mark Cuban's assertion by suggesting that if this was in fact his main reason for pulling my film from his Landmark theaters, then why not simply propose a negotiated revenue sharing arrangement with IFC? A week has gone by, and Mark Cuban has been uncustomarily silent.
Today, I sent him the following e-mail:
Hey Mark,
I never heard back from you in response to my last e-mail proposing that we resolve the IFC/Comcast/Landmark Theaters issue by negotiating some kind of revenue-sharing deal (which you yourself proposed) in exchange for playing my film at your Landmark Theaters.
Also, just so you know, my film (which debuted at #7 at the specialty box office) outperformed many of the other films playing at your Landmark Theaters last week, despite the fact that those other films did not have a simultaneous day and date release.
The good news, for you as well as for me, is that day and date works. My film (unlike "Bubble") proves that a film can be released simultaneously through video on demand (all the time, and anytime) and still do significant business at the box office. This will no doubt help to dispel the anxieities of those theater owners who are worried about the impact that day and date will have on their grosses. A film that people want to see is still a film that people want to see. In the end, that is the only thing that will count - commercial viability. When and how a film is released will always be secondary to whether or not there is an audience for it.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Best,
Caveh
Contra Nathan Lee
Today, the New York Times review came out, and while it was for the most part extremeley positive ("Mr. Zahedi is charming and disarming even at his most debased"), the reviewer (Nathan Lee) nevertheless felt compelled to include the obligatory back-handed compliment ("a minor triumph of sincerity") and the obligatory concluding dig. In this case, the obligatory dig took the form of an allusion to one of my favorite songs of all time. I quote:
"Still, the missing song on the soundtrack is "No Compassion" by Talking Heads: 'What are you, in love with your problems?/ I think you take it a little too far.'"
Well, that's a great song, and it's a clever dig. But what are the ideological assumptions behind it?
The main assumption, it seems to me, is that there is something a little bit excessive and unseemly in making an autobiographical film about "one's problems." But why? The reason, it seems to me, is because of yet another underlying assumption, namely that "one's problems" are one's own, and are not shared. And yet, the entire history of storytelling is based on the idea that we all share common traits, and that one person's story can stand in for other people's stories (see "The Odyssey" by Homer, or "Everyman" by Anonymous).
So why the dig? And more importantly, why the underlying assumption that "one's problems" are only one's own?
The answer, I think, has to do with a fundamental confusion about the difference between documentary and fiction, or, in the case of literature, between memoir and fiction. If I had made a fiction film, I don't believe Mr. Lee would have complained that the author is too in love with his character's problems. In fact, being in love with the problems of one's fictional characters is considered a sine qua non in fiction writing. But in autobiography or memoir, it's considered a vice, and a certain disinterest in one's "own" problems is somehow considered a virtue.
But I believe that there is no essential difference between fiction and documentary. Jean-Luc Godard was fond of saying that every documentary is also a fiction film, and that every fiction film is also a documentary. Well, he's right. Documentary and fiction are two sides of the same coin, and my film, among other things, is a demonstration of that fact. And yet, autobiographical filmmaking continues to be treated as self-indulgent, even though the history of art is filled with autobiographical works, not only in literature but also in painting and photography.
There is something so inherently reactionary in this societal taboo against self-expression, so on the side of social conservatism and a maintaining of the status quo (with its concomitant pre-ordained forms of etiquette), that I can't understand why Mr. Lee would write favorably of my film at all, since every frame of the film was conceived in opposition to the ideological assumptions that his review seems to embody.
This said, his review is not without the occasional witticism: "Here is everything you never wanted to know about Mr. Zahedi's sex life." Nor is it without the occasional insightful and well-turned phrase: "It never mugs for our good will, only our witness, which it rewards with honesty and wit." But why does Mr. Lee feel compelled to end his review with one final backhanded compliment: "But tonic honesty and lack of cool are precisely what saves "Sex Addict" from going too far down the path of "Tarnation," another exercise in mixed-up aesthetics, sordid subject matter and maniacal self-exposure."
It is a commonplace of psychology that what you accuse others of is usually more true of yourself than of the others in question. In this case, Mr. Lee's assertion that the missing song to the soundtrack of my film is "No Compassion" by Talking Heads may ultimately say a lot more about him than it does about me. Here is another quote from the same song: "Takes a lot of time to push away the nonsense."
None of this would matter very much, and the dig in question could be easily laughed off, if it weren't for the fact that a New York Times reviewer has the power to make or break a film, and that an off-handed remark like that can mean the difference between success or failure at the box office. And it's not just the fate of the film that is at stake: it's also the fate of the filmmaker and of his or her ability to make more films in the future. With such power comes a dizzying responsibility, and it saddens me to see film critics wield their formidable power with such breezy insouciance.
Today, the New York Times review came out, and while it was for the most part extremeley positive ("Mr. Zahedi is charming and disarming even at his most debased"), the reviewer (Nathan Lee) nevertheless felt compelled to include the obligatory back-handed compliment ("a minor triumph of sincerity") and the obligatory concluding dig. In this case, the obligatory dig took the form of an allusion to one of my favorite songs of all time. I quote:
"Still, the missing song on the soundtrack is "No Compassion" by Talking Heads: 'What are you, in love with your problems?/ I think you take it a little too far.'"
Well, that's a great song, and it's a clever dig. But what are the ideological assumptions behind it?
The main assumption, it seems to me, is that there is something a little bit excessive and unseemly in making an autobiographical film about "one's problems." But why? The reason, it seems to me, is because of yet another underlying assumption, namely that "one's problems" are one's own, and are not shared. And yet, the entire history of storytelling is based on the idea that we all share common traits, and that one person's story can stand in for other people's stories (see "The Odyssey" by Homer, or "Everyman" by Anonymous).
So why the dig? And more importantly, why the underlying assumption that "one's problems" are only one's own?
The answer, I think, has to do with a fundamental confusion about the difference between documentary and fiction, or, in the case of literature, between memoir and fiction. If I had made a fiction film, I don't believe Mr. Lee would have complained that the author is too in love with his character's problems. In fact, being in love with the problems of one's fictional characters is considered a sine qua non in fiction writing. But in autobiography or memoir, it's considered a vice, and a certain disinterest in one's "own" problems is somehow considered a virtue.
But I believe that there is no essential difference between fiction and documentary. Jean-Luc Godard was fond of saying that every documentary is also a fiction film, and that every fiction film is also a documentary. Well, he's right. Documentary and fiction are two sides of the same coin, and my film, among other things, is a demonstration of that fact. And yet, autobiographical filmmaking continues to be treated as self-indulgent, even though the history of art is filled with autobiographical works, not only in literature but also in painting and photography.
There is something so inherently reactionary in this societal taboo against self-expression, so on the side of social conservatism and a maintaining of the status quo (with its concomitant pre-ordained forms of etiquette), that I can't understand why Mr. Lee would write favorably of my film at all, since every frame of the film was conceived in opposition to the ideological assumptions that his review seems to embody.
This said, his review is not without the occasional witticism: "Here is everything you never wanted to know about Mr. Zahedi's sex life." Nor is it without the occasional insightful and well-turned phrase: "It never mugs for our good will, only our witness, which it rewards with honesty and wit." But why does Mr. Lee feel compelled to end his review with one final backhanded compliment: "But tonic honesty and lack of cool are precisely what saves "Sex Addict" from going too far down the path of "Tarnation," another exercise in mixed-up aesthetics, sordid subject matter and maniacal self-exposure."
It is a commonplace of psychology that what you accuse others of is usually more true of yourself than of the others in question. In this case, Mr. Lee's assertion that the missing song to the soundtrack of my film is "No Compassion" by Talking Heads may ultimately say a lot more about him than it does about me. Here is another quote from the same song: "Takes a lot of time to push away the nonsense."
None of this would matter very much, and the dig in question could be easily laughed off, if it weren't for the fact that a New York Times reviewer has the power to make or break a film, and that an off-handed remark like that can mean the difference between success or failure at the box office. And it's not just the fate of the film that is at stake: it's also the fate of the filmmaker and of his or her ability to make more films in the future. With such power comes a dizzying responsibility, and it saddens me to see film critics wield their formidable power with such breezy insouciance.
Sex Addict debuts at #7
Today, Indiewire released their list of the top ten box office specialty releases and I was disappointed to see that "Sex Addict" wasn't on the list. But when I looked more closely, I realized that Indiewire had made a mistake and that "Sex Addict" should have been #7 (the film's per screen average was $5,345, which is how a film's box office ranking is calculated.) Here is the list they published:
"The Top Ten So Far...
1. "Friends With Money" (Sony Pictures Classics) $589,332 wknd ($21,048 per scrn)
2. "Brick" (Focus Features) $199,286 wknd ($9,490 per scrn)
3. "Drawing Restraint 9" (IFC Films) $25,266 wknd ($8,422 per scrn)
4. "Thank You For Smoking" (Fox Searchlight) $2,309,097 wknd ($7,723 per scrn)
5. "The Fallen Idol" (Rialto) $6,456 wknd ($6,456 per scrn)
6. "4" (Leisure Time Features) $5,815 wknd ($5,815 per scrn)
7. "Kalamazoo?" (Reel Source) $22,074 wknd ($4,415 per scrn)
8. Free Zone" (New Yorker) $8,618 wknd ($4,309 per scrn)
9. "The Syrian Bride" (Koch Lorber) $12,759 wknd ($4,253 per scrn)
10. "White Rainbow" (Rocky Mountain Pictures) $4,180 wknd ($4,180 per scrn)"
As anyone who can count can see, "I Am A Sex Addict" should have been right after "4" and right before "Kalamazoo?" I'm sure it was an honest mistake on Indiewire's part, but theatrical exhibitors use the list to decide what films to book, and Indiewire's erroneous exclusion of "I Am A Sex Addict" from their top ten list means that there will be fewer bookings for the film. Not sure how this happened, but it would be great if Indiewire would publicly correct the error.
Today, Indiewire released their list of the top ten box office specialty releases and I was disappointed to see that "Sex Addict" wasn't on the list. But when I looked more closely, I realized that Indiewire had made a mistake and that "Sex Addict" should have been #7 (the film's per screen average was $5,345, which is how a film's box office ranking is calculated.) Here is the list they published:
"The Top Ten So Far...
1. "Friends With Money" (Sony Pictures Classics) $589,332 wknd ($21,048 per scrn)
2. "Brick" (Focus Features) $199,286 wknd ($9,490 per scrn)
3. "Drawing Restraint 9" (IFC Films) $25,266 wknd ($8,422 per scrn)
4. "Thank You For Smoking" (Fox Searchlight) $2,309,097 wknd ($7,723 per scrn)
5. "The Fallen Idol" (Rialto) $6,456 wknd ($6,456 per scrn)
6. "4" (Leisure Time Features) $5,815 wknd ($5,815 per scrn)
7. "Kalamazoo?" (Reel Source) $22,074 wknd ($4,415 per scrn)
8. Free Zone" (New Yorker) $8,618 wknd ($4,309 per scrn)
9. "The Syrian Bride" (Koch Lorber) $12,759 wknd ($4,253 per scrn)
10. "White Rainbow" (Rocky Mountain Pictures) $4,180 wknd ($4,180 per scrn)"
As anyone who can count can see, "I Am A Sex Addict" should have been right after "4" and right before "Kalamazoo?" I'm sure it was an honest mistake on Indiewire's part, but theatrical exhibitors use the list to decide what films to book, and Indiewire's erroneous exclusion of "I Am A Sex Addict" from their top ten list means that there will be fewer bookings for the film. Not sure how this happened, but it would be great if Indiewire would publicly correct the error.
The Numbers So Far
Here are the numbers for the weekend release of "I Am A Sex Addict" at the Balboa Theater in San Francisco and at the Elmwood Theater in Berkeley. It doesn't sound like all that much money to me, but I am told that the film did good business and that the numbers need to be seen in context.
The film made $11,163 at the Balboa theater in 5 days (the film opened on a Wednesday). The Elmwood Theater, usually a second run theater, grossed $3,824 in 3 days (which I am told is a solid gross for them).
For comparison, "The Devil and Daniel Johnston" (a film I love and can't recommend highly enough) made $4,940 at Landmark's Lumiere Theater in San Francisco and $2,431 at Landmark's Shattuck Theater in Berkeley (where "I Am A Sex Addict" was scheduled to open before Landmark Theater owner Mark Cuban decided to pull the film for reasons explained at great length in previous blogs).
"L'Enfant" (which won the Palme D'Or at Cannes this year) did $2,512 at Landmark's Embarcadero Theater and $1,410 at the Shattuck.
The numbers so far are promising, if not record-breaking (and, I have to admit, I was kind of hoping for record-breaking). The film opens this Wednesday in New York City at the IFC Center, and the numbers (I'm told) will no doubt depend to a large extent on the New York Times review that day. It strikes me as remarkable that the fate of one's film resides to such an extent in the hands of one person.
Philip K. Dick was fond of quoting Horace who said: "Gustibus Non Disputandem Est," which apparently means "There's no arguing with taste." Well, in this case, there's really no arguing with the taste of the New York Times film critic. He either likes it or he doesn't, and if he doesn't, you're pretty much fucked.
Here are the numbers for the weekend release of "I Am A Sex Addict" at the Balboa Theater in San Francisco and at the Elmwood Theater in Berkeley. It doesn't sound like all that much money to me, but I am told that the film did good business and that the numbers need to be seen in context.
The film made $11,163 at the Balboa theater in 5 days (the film opened on a Wednesday). The Elmwood Theater, usually a second run theater, grossed $3,824 in 3 days (which I am told is a solid gross for them).
For comparison, "The Devil and Daniel Johnston" (a film I love and can't recommend highly enough) made $4,940 at Landmark's Lumiere Theater in San Francisco and $2,431 at Landmark's Shattuck Theater in Berkeley (where "I Am A Sex Addict" was scheduled to open before Landmark Theater owner Mark Cuban decided to pull the film for reasons explained at great length in previous blogs).
"L'Enfant" (which won the Palme D'Or at Cannes this year) did $2,512 at Landmark's Embarcadero Theater and $1,410 at the Shattuck.
The numbers so far are promising, if not record-breaking (and, I have to admit, I was kind of hoping for record-breaking). The film opens this Wednesday in New York City at the IFC Center, and the numbers (I'm told) will no doubt depend to a large extent on the New York Times review that day. It strikes me as remarkable that the fate of one's film resides to such an extent in the hands of one person.
Philip K. Dick was fond of quoting Horace who said: "Gustibus Non Disputandem Est," which apparently means "There's no arguing with taste." Well, in this case, there's really no arguing with the taste of the New York Times film critic. He either likes it or he doesn't, and if he doesn't, you're pretty much fucked.
Myspace Censors Sex Addict
Filmmaker magazine, which recently gave the "Best Film Not Playing at a Theater Near You" Gotham award to "I Am A Sex Addict," has an agreement with myspace whereby they supply editorial content which runs underneath Filmmaker's banner on myspace's film page. This Wednesday, Filmmaker submitted "I Am A Sex Addict" as their featured film of the week, along with a one paragraph description of the film (which is opening at the IFC Theater in New York City this Wednesday). When myspace failed to post the listing on their site, Filmmaker contacted myspace to see what had happened and were told that myspace had rejected the listing, because of the film's title.
Myspace's refusal to publish Filmmaker magazine's pick of the week because of the film's title is the result of a recent witchhunt against myspace by Conservative political groups who are attacking it because of internet sexual predators who have used myspace in the past to try to solicit sex from minors. That myspace would try to make changes to their website in order to minimize such solicitations is entirely understandable and even commendable. But that they would be so paranoid as to ban the mere mention of a film entitled "I Am A Sex Addict" from their film page, despite the fact that it was given an award by Filmmaker magazine with whom they are partnered, and despite the fact that is being disributed by IFC films and is already playing in theaters around the country, is lunacy.
What is happening here? It's a film for Christ's sake. It's the title of a film. And ironically, the film is an attempt to address some of the core issues behind what the Conservative political groups in question are up in arms about in the first place. That myspace would censor the mere mention of a film entitled "I Am A Sex Addict" on their film page is not only paranoid but also reactionary and dumb. Art necessitates free speech, and must, by its nature, be provocative if it is to seriously address important social issues. "I Am A Sex Addict" does just that. Myspace, unfortunately, has decided to side with the forces of reaction. Who will they censor next? And when was it that the first amendment to the constitution (the right to free speech, for those who don't remember) was annulled?
Filmmaker magazine, which recently gave the "Best Film Not Playing at a Theater Near You" Gotham award to "I Am A Sex Addict," has an agreement with myspace whereby they supply editorial content which runs underneath Filmmaker's banner on myspace's film page. This Wednesday, Filmmaker submitted "I Am A Sex Addict" as their featured film of the week, along with a one paragraph description of the film (which is opening at the IFC Theater in New York City this Wednesday). When myspace failed to post the listing on their site, Filmmaker contacted myspace to see what had happened and were told that myspace had rejected the listing, because of the film's title.
Myspace's refusal to publish Filmmaker magazine's pick of the week because of the film's title is the result of a recent witchhunt against myspace by Conservative political groups who are attacking it because of internet sexual predators who have used myspace in the past to try to solicit sex from minors. That myspace would try to make changes to their website in order to minimize such solicitations is entirely understandable and even commendable. But that they would be so paranoid as to ban the mere mention of a film entitled "I Am A Sex Addict" from their film page, despite the fact that it was given an award by Filmmaker magazine with whom they are partnered, and despite the fact that is being disributed by IFC films and is already playing in theaters around the country, is lunacy.
What is happening here? It's a film for Christ's sake. It's the title of a film. And ironically, the film is an attempt to address some of the core issues behind what the Conservative political groups in question are up in arms about in the first place. That myspace would censor the mere mention of a film entitled "I Am A Sex Addict" on their film page is not only paranoid but also reactionary and dumb. Art necessitates free speech, and must, by its nature, be provocative if it is to seriously address important social issues. "I Am A Sex Addict" does just that. Myspace, unfortunately, has decided to side with the forces of reaction. Who will they censor next? And when was it that the first amendment to the constitution (the right to free speech, for those who don't remember) was annulled?
The Cuban Missive Crisis
Mark Cuban recently sent me an unusually persuasive missive in which he argues that the reason he pulled my film from its scheduled Landmark screenigs was not because of Comcast's refusal to carry his HDNet television station, as he had argued initially, but because of IFC's failure to offer ancillary revenue sharing to Landmark Theaters.
I quote:
"We want to push day n date because it can enable film makers of all sizes to make more films and have money to make better films that have a better chance to be profitable.
However, for that formula to work, all parts of the chain have to be partners. Everyone has to acknowledge where and how they benefit and share in the upside. If any one component doesn't participate and share, it doesn't work.
When its Landmark, HDNet movies and Magnolia distribution, HDNet movies kicks in money, Magnolia kicks in money and hopefully we make some box office. Knowing that the box office is the riskiest component, we pay back part of the ancillary sales to the theaters. We sell a dvd, the theater makes money.
This way HDNet movies gains from the day n date w/happier subs, and they pay for that. Magnolia gains from better dvd sales and they pay for that. Landmark and other theaters gets part of that money to compensate them for the risk.
And to help the theaters, we only play the movie twice on opening night. That's it. The hope is that it creates positive feedback and HDNet subs, knowing they can't see it on HDnet again, will go to the theater or buy the dvd. Again to the benefit of the theater and film maker.
Enron, War Within, Bubble, have still not been shown since their opening night play. You have to buy the dvd. The screens that played this movie get a cut.
As I understand it, Comcast plans on doing VOD. Available all the time, anytime. That will impact box office.
Plus, HDNet movies and HDNet, our 2 channels plug the hell out of the movie to promote theatrical attendance and dvd sales, before and after the 2 plays on HDNet movies. We are near 3mm subs that match the indie film demo. It helps.
We want people to go see the film.
In the IFC Comcast deal, there were no incremental considerations for the theaters, Landmark or otherwise. No promotions on IFC or Comcast that we knew about. No share of dvd revenues for the screens showing the movie. No limit on showing on Comcast to create incentives to go the box office
That's at the heart of the problem. Our day n date works because its a partnership with all involved sharing in the upside. We are even looking at giving a much higher pct of 1st week box to the screens because of the risk.
None of that took place w/IFC and Comcast.
That's why its not hypocritical. Its the only way for day n date to work."
Here is my reply:
Hey Mark,
Your most recent e-mail does make a lot of sense, and goes a long way towards explaining your position. Thank you for sending that. I think I understand better where you are coming from.
But it still seems to me that there are three separate issues. One is Comcast's decision not to carry HDNet, which was the first reason you gave for pulling my film from most of its Landmark theater screenings. The implication was that if Comcast would agree to carry HDNet, then you would reverse your decision to pull my film from Landmark theaters, and that you were using my film to pressure Comcast into carrying HDNet. I still don't think that is a fair or even effective way to get Comcast to carry HDNet.
The second reason you give for pulling my film from your Landmark theaters is that IFC First Take is negatively impacting Landmark's theatrical grosses by making its films simulataneously available on Comcast (through Video on Demand) all the time and anytime. But this argument is inconsistent with your own decision to make films availalbe on DVD simultaneously to their theatrical release. More people watch films on DVD than through Video On Demand, so your decision to make the DVD of a film available through day and date has a far greater negative impact on theatrical revenue than IFC's more modest version of day and date.
The third reason you give is that IFC's deal with Comcast doesn't include revenue sharing with the theaters who, arguably, take the biggest risk and help to promote the film, which then benefits Comcast. This argument makes a lot of sense to me, except that 1) your contention that there were no promotions of the film on IFC and Comcast is inaccurate. There were promotions on both IFC and Comcast. 2) If the issue is revenue sharing with theaters (which, to me, sounds both fair and intelligent), then why not simply strike a deal with IFC to play their films at Landmark if and only if they agree to a certain amount of revenue sharing from ancillary markets? As far as I know, this was never suggested by Landmark. So my question is: why not negotiate a deal with IFC to share in the film's ancillary revenue and reverse your decision to pull my film from Landmark Theaters? If this is really your main issue with IFC First Take, then it seems to me more effectively resolved through negotiations than through strong arm tactics.
I look forward to your answer to my proposal.
Best,
Caveh Zahedi
P.S. Congratulations on the Mavericks' victory.
Mark Cuban recently sent me an unusually persuasive missive in which he argues that the reason he pulled my film from its scheduled Landmark screenigs was not because of Comcast's refusal to carry his HDNet television station, as he had argued initially, but because of IFC's failure to offer ancillary revenue sharing to Landmark Theaters.
I quote:
"We want to push day n date because it can enable film makers of all sizes to make more films and have money to make better films that have a better chance to be profitable.
However, for that formula to work, all parts of the chain have to be partners. Everyone has to acknowledge where and how they benefit and share in the upside. If any one component doesn't participate and share, it doesn't work.
When its Landmark, HDNet movies and Magnolia distribution, HDNet movies kicks in money, Magnolia kicks in money and hopefully we make some box office. Knowing that the box office is the riskiest component, we pay back part of the ancillary sales to the theaters. We sell a dvd, the theater makes money.
This way HDNet movies gains from the day n date w/happier subs, and they pay for that. Magnolia gains from better dvd sales and they pay for that. Landmark and other theaters gets part of that money to compensate them for the risk.
And to help the theaters, we only play the movie twice on opening night. That's it. The hope is that it creates positive feedback and HDNet subs, knowing they can't see it on HDnet again, will go to the theater or buy the dvd. Again to the benefit of the theater and film maker.
Enron, War Within, Bubble, have still not been shown since their opening night play. You have to buy the dvd. The screens that played this movie get a cut.
As I understand it, Comcast plans on doing VOD. Available all the time, anytime. That will impact box office.
Plus, HDNet movies and HDNet, our 2 channels plug the hell out of the movie to promote theatrical attendance and dvd sales, before and after the 2 plays on HDNet movies. We are near 3mm subs that match the indie film demo. It helps.
We want people to go see the film.
In the IFC Comcast deal, there were no incremental considerations for the theaters, Landmark or otherwise. No promotions on IFC or Comcast that we knew about. No share of dvd revenues for the screens showing the movie. No limit on showing on Comcast to create incentives to go the box office
That's at the heart of the problem. Our day n date works because its a partnership with all involved sharing in the upside. We are even looking at giving a much higher pct of 1st week box to the screens because of the risk.
None of that took place w/IFC and Comcast.
That's why its not hypocritical. Its the only way for day n date to work."
Here is my reply:
Hey Mark,
Your most recent e-mail does make a lot of sense, and goes a long way towards explaining your position. Thank you for sending that. I think I understand better where you are coming from.
But it still seems to me that there are three separate issues. One is Comcast's decision not to carry HDNet, which was the first reason you gave for pulling my film from most of its Landmark theater screenings. The implication was that if Comcast would agree to carry HDNet, then you would reverse your decision to pull my film from Landmark theaters, and that you were using my film to pressure Comcast into carrying HDNet. I still don't think that is a fair or even effective way to get Comcast to carry HDNet.
The second reason you give for pulling my film from your Landmark theaters is that IFC First Take is negatively impacting Landmark's theatrical grosses by making its films simulataneously available on Comcast (through Video on Demand) all the time and anytime. But this argument is inconsistent with your own decision to make films availalbe on DVD simultaneously to their theatrical release. More people watch films on DVD than through Video On Demand, so your decision to make the DVD of a film available through day and date has a far greater negative impact on theatrical revenue than IFC's more modest version of day and date.
The third reason you give is that IFC's deal with Comcast doesn't include revenue sharing with the theaters who, arguably, take the biggest risk and help to promote the film, which then benefits Comcast. This argument makes a lot of sense to me, except that 1) your contention that there were no promotions of the film on IFC and Comcast is inaccurate. There were promotions on both IFC and Comcast. 2) If the issue is revenue sharing with theaters (which, to me, sounds both fair and intelligent), then why not simply strike a deal with IFC to play their films at Landmark if and only if they agree to a certain amount of revenue sharing from ancillary markets? As far as I know, this was never suggested by Landmark. So my question is: why not negotiate a deal with IFC to share in the film's ancillary revenue and reverse your decision to pull my film from Landmark Theaters? If this is really your main issue with IFC First Take, then it seems to me more effectively resolved through negotiations than through strong arm tactics.
I look forward to your answer to my proposal.
Best,
Caveh Zahedi
P.S. Congratulations on the Mavericks' victory.
The Devil and Daniel Johnston
"I Am A Sex Addict' is opening today at the Elmwood Theater in Berkeley, as a consequence of Landmark Theater owner Mark Cuban's decision to pull it from its advertised run at the Shattuck Theater. I like the Elmwood Theater, and the people who run it were actually kind enough to let us shoot a scene there. But because it's a last minute switch, many people will go to the Shattuck expecting to see "I Am A Sex Addict" and will find, to their surprise, that it has been moved to the Elmwood. The good news is that "The Devil and Daniel Johnston" is also scheduled to play at the Shattuck (and hopefully won't be pulled as it is being distributed by Sony Pictures Classics and not IFC Films, with whom Mark Cuban is currently engaged in the independent film version of a turf war).
"The Devil and Daniel Johnston" is a wonderful film, beautifully told, and brilliantly directed. I can't recommend it highly enough. It is one of my favorite films of the year.
"I Am A Sex Addict' is opening today at the Elmwood Theater in Berkeley, as a consequence of Landmark Theater owner Mark Cuban's decision to pull it from its advertised run at the Shattuck Theater. I like the Elmwood Theater, and the people who run it were actually kind enough to let us shoot a scene there. But because it's a last minute switch, many people will go to the Shattuck expecting to see "I Am A Sex Addict" and will find, to their surprise, that it has been moved to the Elmwood. The good news is that "The Devil and Daniel Johnston" is also scheduled to play at the Shattuck (and hopefully won't be pulled as it is being distributed by Sony Pictures Classics and not IFC Films, with whom Mark Cuban is currently engaged in the independent film version of a turf war).
"The Devil and Daniel Johnston" is a wonderful film, beautifully told, and brilliantly directed. I can't recommend it highly enough. It is one of my favorite films of the year.
Second Epistle to Mark
This morning, I received the following missive from Mark Cuban:
"I tried to give you an honest, direct answer to everything you asked me
Caveh. You never answered a single question I asked you . I tried to find a
middle ground of compromise. You avoided the topic completely.
You made IFC the good guys, me the bad guy.
You played this out to your advantage, but not honestly, good for you
All the best
m"
My reply:
Mark,
You're right that I don't see IFC as being the bad guys in all this. But I'm not trying to make you into the bad guy either. I just disagree with your position and am trying to get you to change your mind.
I'm sorry if you feel I haven't answered a single question you asked me. But I thought I had made it clear that I didn't think IFC should reneg on their agreement with Comcast, despite whatever disagreements existed between Comcast and yourself. You kept asking me if I had asked IFC to pull out of their Comcast deal and if IFC had offered any such "solution" to the problem. But why would I ask IFC to pull out of their Comcast deal when I don't believe that they should? To pull out of their Comcast deal would be to betray the very basis of the First Take initiative - namely to start doing day and date releases. You yourself have been the foremost proponent of such a thing, which is why it seems hypocritical to almost everyone who has been following this that you would be trying to pressure IFC to abandon their own day and date release strategy.
So the answer to your questions is: 1) No, I have not asked IFC to reneg on their deal with Comcast and 2) No, IFC has not offered to reneg on their contract with IFC. And while I appreciate your offer to sell DVD's of my film in Landmark Theaters, that is not an option either because, like I already told you, IFC has a DVD output deal with Genius, and the film won't be coming out on DVD until late Summer. Don't agreements carry any weight and responsibilities?
You write that I played this out to my advantage, but not honestly. But Mark, I DON'T AGREE with you. That's not dishonest. If by "not honestly" you mean that I tried to argue for a particular point of view (my own), then yes, you are right. I did that. But you did the exact same thing.
As to playing this out to my advantage, I have utterly FAILED to persuade you to change your mind about pulling my film from most of your theaters. I really don't see how I have played this to "my advantage." All I have done is publicized what you did. And it's true that a lot of people have been outraged. But you still stand behind what you did, so there's no reason for you to complain about my "outing" you. You could easily "fix" all this by reversing your decision. That you choose not to is your right, but I really don't see how I played this out to my advantage, as you put it.
I know some harsh words against you have been thrown around on the internet because of all this, but not by me. I can't control other people's reactions, or points of view. If I painted you as acting inappropriately, it's because I think you did act inappropriately in this situation. That's how I see it (and I'm not the only person who sees it that way). That's not dishonest. It may be subjective, but it's certainly no more dishonest than your attempt to spin the situation according to how you see it.
I'm sorry that the tone of our exchanges has become increasingly acrimonious. I would like to reverse that trend by saying, once again, that I admire your generosity in taking the time and trouble to tirelessly explain your position and to be willing to engage in a public debate on this topic. There aren't a lot of people in your position who would do that, so hats off to you for that.
Best,
Caveh
This morning, I received the following missive from Mark Cuban:
"I tried to give you an honest, direct answer to everything you asked me
Caveh. You never answered a single question I asked you . I tried to find a
middle ground of compromise. You avoided the topic completely.
You made IFC the good guys, me the bad guy.
You played this out to your advantage, but not honestly, good for you
All the best
m"
My reply:
Mark,
You're right that I don't see IFC as being the bad guys in all this. But I'm not trying to make you into the bad guy either. I just disagree with your position and am trying to get you to change your mind.
I'm sorry if you feel I haven't answered a single question you asked me. But I thought I had made it clear that I didn't think IFC should reneg on their agreement with Comcast, despite whatever disagreements existed between Comcast and yourself. You kept asking me if I had asked IFC to pull out of their Comcast deal and if IFC had offered any such "solution" to the problem. But why would I ask IFC to pull out of their Comcast deal when I don't believe that they should? To pull out of their Comcast deal would be to betray the very basis of the First Take initiative - namely to start doing day and date releases. You yourself have been the foremost proponent of such a thing, which is why it seems hypocritical to almost everyone who has been following this that you would be trying to pressure IFC to abandon their own day and date release strategy.
So the answer to your questions is: 1) No, I have not asked IFC to reneg on their deal with Comcast and 2) No, IFC has not offered to reneg on their contract with IFC. And while I appreciate your offer to sell DVD's of my film in Landmark Theaters, that is not an option either because, like I already told you, IFC has a DVD output deal with Genius, and the film won't be coming out on DVD until late Summer. Don't agreements carry any weight and responsibilities?
You write that I played this out to my advantage, but not honestly. But Mark, I DON'T AGREE with you. That's not dishonest. If by "not honestly" you mean that I tried to argue for a particular point of view (my own), then yes, you are right. I did that. But you did the exact same thing.
As to playing this out to my advantage, I have utterly FAILED to persuade you to change your mind about pulling my film from most of your theaters. I really don't see how I have played this to "my advantage." All I have done is publicized what you did. And it's true that a lot of people have been outraged. But you still stand behind what you did, so there's no reason for you to complain about my "outing" you. You could easily "fix" all this by reversing your decision. That you choose not to is your right, but I really don't see how I played this out to my advantage, as you put it.
I know some harsh words against you have been thrown around on the internet because of all this, but not by me. I can't control other people's reactions, or points of view. If I painted you as acting inappropriately, it's because I think you did act inappropriately in this situation. That's how I see it (and I'm not the only person who sees it that way). That's not dishonest. It may be subjective, but it's certainly no more dishonest than your attempt to spin the situation according to how you see it.
I'm sorry that the tone of our exchanges has become increasingly acrimonious. I would like to reverse that trend by saying, once again, that I admire your generosity in taking the time and trouble to tirelessly explain your position and to be willing to engage in a public debate on this topic. There aren't a lot of people in your position who would do that, so hats off to you for that.
Best,
Caveh
The Epistle to Mark
Yesterday, in a blog entry entitled "Monopoly Capitalism," I quoted from an e-mail sent to me by Mark Cuban (the very wealthy gentleman who recently bought the Landmark Theater chain), and then proceeded to deconstruct his argument. His response to my blog entry (see the comments section of the aforementioned entry) was to include the entire thread of our e-mail correspondence, which began shortly after he peremptorily decided to pull my film from all Landmark Theaters in markets in which Comcast (with whom Mr. Cuban is at war) also has a presence. He did this despite the fact that the Landmark theaters in question had already agreed to play my film, and despite the fact that the film was due to open four days later at the Landmark Theater in Berkeley, a screening which we had publicized and promoted for weeks. He did this because Comcast has refused to carry HDNet (which Mr. Cuban also owns), and because my film is being distributed by IFC Films which has a same day video-on-demand deal with Comcast.
In the spirit of thoroughness, I am posting my reply to Mr. Cuban.
Hey Mark,
I had thought of putting the entire thread up, but then decided it was too long, and that it made more sense to only quote from the thread, so as to leave more room for analysis. I'm certainly not averse to publishing the entire thread, and am glad that you did. I feel l've failed to persuade you to reverse your decision, however. We obviously don't see eye to eye on this one. I've made my best case for my point of view, and I assume you've made the best case for yours, and neither of us seems to be swayed by the other's arguments.
The only thing I don't understand is why you don't want me to contact Comcast and put the question to them directly of why they won't carry HDNet. Is it because you think it would be futile? It probably would be, but I could at least blog about it and let people know what is going on. It was you who initially suggested contacting Comcast to put pressure on them, and I was willing to do this. I'm not sure why you no longer want me to.
As for IFC, it's not like I know the back story. I don't. I don't know what IFC knew or did not know. All I know is that the people I've been dealing with at IFC have been kind and straightforward and generous, and I feel indebted to them. I also feel confident that they sincerely believed that Landmark was willing to play the films at the theaters in which they had agreed to play them. I don't think there was any duplicity on IFC's part, and I don't see any reason to pressure them to reneg on their agreement with Comcast. I don't think that's the ethical solution to the problem. I think the ethical solution to the problem would be to try to persuade Comcast to carry HDNet, or if they won't, to find another way to pressure them that doesn't involve sabotaging an innocent bystander's film grosses. I can understand your desire to boycott Comcast. But before you owned Landmark it was a theater chain that played movies because it thought those movies were good and/or because it thought those movies could make money. Now, Landmark is no longer a theater chain that plays movies because it believes in those movies. Now it plays (or pulls) movies because those movies could hurt (or help) Comcast. This is the equivalent of a turf war, and has devolved into a power struggle between rival gangs as opposed to an attempt to determine what's best for the film community as a whole.
And this is the essence of my disagreement with you. Your position has no social conscience. It's just about what's best for HDNet. But HDNet doesn't exist in a vacuum, and HDNet shouldn't only be about the bottom line. My impression was that HDNet was set up to make politically and aesthetically progressive films. But to then engage in a turf war to maximize HDNet's bottom line seems to me antithetical to the whole idea of what HDNet was supposed to be. In this case, I believe that the means do not justify the ends.
I, personally, think that you would get a lot of points from the independent film community if you reversed your decision about pulling my film from Landmark theaters in cities in which Comcast also operates. I don't think it would be seen as backing down. I think it would be seen as being sensitive and responsive to the film community as a whole.
In any case, I have no animosity towards you whatsoever (even though your actions so far will make my life more difficult), and I wish you both health and happiness.
Sincerely,
Caveh
Yesterday, in a blog entry entitled "Monopoly Capitalism," I quoted from an e-mail sent to me by Mark Cuban (the very wealthy gentleman who recently bought the Landmark Theater chain), and then proceeded to deconstruct his argument. His response to my blog entry (see the comments section of the aforementioned entry) was to include the entire thread of our e-mail correspondence, which began shortly after he peremptorily decided to pull my film from all Landmark Theaters in markets in which Comcast (with whom Mr. Cuban is at war) also has a presence. He did this despite the fact that the Landmark theaters in question had already agreed to play my film, and despite the fact that the film was due to open four days later at the Landmark Theater in Berkeley, a screening which we had publicized and promoted for weeks. He did this because Comcast has refused to carry HDNet (which Mr. Cuban also owns), and because my film is being distributed by IFC Films which has a same day video-on-demand deal with Comcast.
In the spirit of thoroughness, I am posting my reply to Mr. Cuban.
Hey Mark,
I had thought of putting the entire thread up, but then decided it was too long, and that it made more sense to only quote from the thread, so as to leave more room for analysis. I'm certainly not averse to publishing the entire thread, and am glad that you did. I feel l've failed to persuade you to reverse your decision, however. We obviously don't see eye to eye on this one. I've made my best case for my point of view, and I assume you've made the best case for yours, and neither of us seems to be swayed by the other's arguments.
The only thing I don't understand is why you don't want me to contact Comcast and put the question to them directly of why they won't carry HDNet. Is it because you think it would be futile? It probably would be, but I could at least blog about it and let people know what is going on. It was you who initially suggested contacting Comcast to put pressure on them, and I was willing to do this. I'm not sure why you no longer want me to.
As for IFC, it's not like I know the back story. I don't. I don't know what IFC knew or did not know. All I know is that the people I've been dealing with at IFC have been kind and straightforward and generous, and I feel indebted to them. I also feel confident that they sincerely believed that Landmark was willing to play the films at the theaters in which they had agreed to play them. I don't think there was any duplicity on IFC's part, and I don't see any reason to pressure them to reneg on their agreement with Comcast. I don't think that's the ethical solution to the problem. I think the ethical solution to the problem would be to try to persuade Comcast to carry HDNet, or if they won't, to find another way to pressure them that doesn't involve sabotaging an innocent bystander's film grosses. I can understand your desire to boycott Comcast. But before you owned Landmark it was a theater chain that played movies because it thought those movies were good and/or because it thought those movies could make money. Now, Landmark is no longer a theater chain that plays movies because it believes in those movies. Now it plays (or pulls) movies because those movies could hurt (or help) Comcast. This is the equivalent of a turf war, and has devolved into a power struggle between rival gangs as opposed to an attempt to determine what's best for the film community as a whole.
And this is the essence of my disagreement with you. Your position has no social conscience. It's just about what's best for HDNet. But HDNet doesn't exist in a vacuum, and HDNet shouldn't only be about the bottom line. My impression was that HDNet was set up to make politically and aesthetically progressive films. But to then engage in a turf war to maximize HDNet's bottom line seems to me antithetical to the whole idea of what HDNet was supposed to be. In this case, I believe that the means do not justify the ends.
I, personally, think that you would get a lot of points from the independent film community if you reversed your decision about pulling my film from Landmark theaters in cities in which Comcast also operates. I don't think it would be seen as backing down. I think it would be seen as being sensitive and responsive to the film community as a whole.
In any case, I have no animosity towards you whatsoever (even though your actions so far will make my life more difficult), and I wish you both health and happiness.
Sincerely,
Caveh
Monopoly Capitalism
I've been trying to understand Mark Cuban's reasoning for pulling my film from its Landmark Theater engagements, but I have to admit to being completely dumbfounded. Mark Cuban has been the apostle of Day and Date releases, and has argued that it is the wave of the future, and that we should all embrace it. Well, I agree with him! But when IFC attempts to do a modified and much more tentative version of Day and Date (namely with Video-on-Demand only, not on DVD as Cuban has done), Mark Cuban tries to squelch the competition. But isn't competition the whole point of market capitalism? Isn't that what Mark Cuban believes in and what he himself is doing?
I received the following communication from Mark Cuban this morning:
"It comes to this, we created a program, day n date between landmark and hdnet.
Comcast and ifc tried to copy the exact same day n date program expecting that landmark would just go along. Without hdnet being included.
We wouldn't.
I engaged in this entire discussion not to help us w comcast, but out of respect for the work you have put in
Nothing more.
This won't help or hurt me w comcast. The only thing that matters is that hdnet creates great films that comcat subs can't live without.
All the best"
The key words here are: "the only thing that matters..." The only thing that matters, according to Cuban, is that HDNet creates great films that Comcast subs can't live without. But is this really the only thing that matters?
It's hard for me to fathom that Mark Cuban fails to see the inherent contradictions in his position. And it reminds me of the old critique of free market capitalism - that it is by its nature unstable, and that it invariably devolves into monopoly capitalism. Mark Cuban is the new Robber Baron of independent cinema, and while one can admire his business acumen, it is clear that his over-riding goal (like theirs) is profit maximization and ego-gratification (rather than his frequently repeated love of independent film). Nothing wrong with that, except when you start polluting, for instance, (which passes the social cost onto the consumer and is therefore a form of cheating) or when you just ride roughshod over anyone who gets in the way of your personal ambitions (which, like the Bush Administration, is arguably immoral).
This is the problem with vertical integration, and this is the reason that anti-Trust laws were created in the first place. The Landmark theater chain is no longer part of a free market economy. Rather, it is a part of the Mark Cuban empire to be used to further his long-term financial interests. Some people call that monopoly capitalism.
What is happening here is reminiscent of what happened when multinational corporations took over the Hollywood studios. The quality of the films suffered, because the people pulling the strings were more interested in their bottom line than in the art of cinema.
This is not news. It has always been this way. But I am continually amazed that the purveyors of monopoly capitalism never seem to see their own true reflections in the mirror, and always see a heroic and morally unimplicated lookalike in the mirror instead. I don't think Mark Cuban sees the hypocrisy of his position. If he did, he might change it. And yet, how can he not see it?
I've been trying to understand Mark Cuban's reasoning for pulling my film from its Landmark Theater engagements, but I have to admit to being completely dumbfounded. Mark Cuban has been the apostle of Day and Date releases, and has argued that it is the wave of the future, and that we should all embrace it. Well, I agree with him! But when IFC attempts to do a modified and much more tentative version of Day and Date (namely with Video-on-Demand only, not on DVD as Cuban has done), Mark Cuban tries to squelch the competition. But isn't competition the whole point of market capitalism? Isn't that what Mark Cuban believes in and what he himself is doing?
I received the following communication from Mark Cuban this morning:
"It comes to this, we created a program, day n date between landmark and hdnet.
Comcast and ifc tried to copy the exact same day n date program expecting that landmark would just go along. Without hdnet being included.
We wouldn't.
I engaged in this entire discussion not to help us w comcast, but out of respect for the work you have put in
Nothing more.
This won't help or hurt me w comcast. The only thing that matters is that hdnet creates great films that comcat subs can't live without.
All the best"
The key words here are: "the only thing that matters..." The only thing that matters, according to Cuban, is that HDNet creates great films that Comcast subs can't live without. But is this really the only thing that matters?
It's hard for me to fathom that Mark Cuban fails to see the inherent contradictions in his position. And it reminds me of the old critique of free market capitalism - that it is by its nature unstable, and that it invariably devolves into monopoly capitalism. Mark Cuban is the new Robber Baron of independent cinema, and while one can admire his business acumen, it is clear that his over-riding goal (like theirs) is profit maximization and ego-gratification (rather than his frequently repeated love of independent film). Nothing wrong with that, except when you start polluting, for instance, (which passes the social cost onto the consumer and is therefore a form of cheating) or when you just ride roughshod over anyone who gets in the way of your personal ambitions (which, like the Bush Administration, is arguably immoral).
This is the problem with vertical integration, and this is the reason that anti-Trust laws were created in the first place. The Landmark theater chain is no longer part of a free market economy. Rather, it is a part of the Mark Cuban empire to be used to further his long-term financial interests. Some people call that monopoly capitalism.
What is happening here is reminiscent of what happened when multinational corporations took over the Hollywood studios. The quality of the films suffered, because the people pulling the strings were more interested in their bottom line than in the art of cinema.
This is not news. It has always been this way. But I am continually amazed that the purveyors of monopoly capitalism never seem to see their own true reflections in the mirror, and always see a heroic and morally unimplicated lookalike in the mirror instead. I don't think Mark Cuban sees the hypocrisy of his position. If he did, he might change it. And yet, how can he not see it?
Dear Steven Soderbergh
We've never met, but we both appeared in the same movie: Waking Life.
Also, I called you on the phone once and asked if you could spare some of your short ends for a film I was making at the time. You said no, but you were nice about it.
I am writing to you now to ask for another favor.
My most recent film, "I Am A Sex Addict," was scheduled to open this Friday at a Landmark Theater in Berkeley (and subsequently in Chicago and Atlanta). Meanwhile, Mark Cuban has suddenly (yesterday) banned the film from all markets in which Comcast has a presence (because the film is being distributed by IFC and IFC has a day and date Video-on-Demand deal with Comcast, which has refused to carry Mark Cuban's HDnet and HDnet movies). Word has it that you and Mark Cuban are good friends, and that you might be able to wield some influence in the matter. I have asked Mr. Cuban to reconsider his decision, as the whole thing has nothing to do with my film, which I spent the last fourteen years trying to make (that's what the requested short ends were for), and which IFC Films has (thankfully) picked up for distribution. Mark Cuban has been faultlessly courteous and straightforward in his replies, but he has also refused to budge.
Since you yourself are a filmmaker, and someone who obviously cares quite deeply not only about the quality but also the politics of cinema, I am asking if there is anything you can do to help resolve the situation (I don't have your e-mail address unfortunately). My argument is that banning my film from Landmark isn't going to get Comcast to change their minds about HDNet, and that punishing me to punish them is a little bit like Bush invading Iraq - the analogy being that it's innocent civilians and bystanders who end up getting screwed the most, and it doesn't even accomplish its purported mission. The people getting screwed in this case, besides me, are the moviegoers who aren't going to be able to see the film because of an ill-conceived internecine dispute.
My sense of Mark Cuban is that he's a well-meaning and not unreasonable person, but I can't help thinking that your eloquence in this matter would be far more persuasive than mine.
In any case, I wish you the best of luck with your five (!) upcoming HD films for HDNet, and I wish HDNet every success in their struggle for a seat at the Comcast table.
With sincere admiration for your enviable body of work,
Caveh Zahedi
We've never met, but we both appeared in the same movie: Waking Life.
Also, I called you on the phone once and asked if you could spare some of your short ends for a film I was making at the time. You said no, but you were nice about it.
I am writing to you now to ask for another favor.
My most recent film, "I Am A Sex Addict," was scheduled to open this Friday at a Landmark Theater in Berkeley (and subsequently in Chicago and Atlanta). Meanwhile, Mark Cuban has suddenly (yesterday) banned the film from all markets in which Comcast has a presence (because the film is being distributed by IFC and IFC has a day and date Video-on-Demand deal with Comcast, which has refused to carry Mark Cuban's HDnet and HDnet movies). Word has it that you and Mark Cuban are good friends, and that you might be able to wield some influence in the matter. I have asked Mr. Cuban to reconsider his decision, as the whole thing has nothing to do with my film, which I spent the last fourteen years trying to make (that's what the requested short ends were for), and which IFC Films has (thankfully) picked up for distribution. Mark Cuban has been faultlessly courteous and straightforward in his replies, but he has also refused to budge.
Since you yourself are a filmmaker, and someone who obviously cares quite deeply not only about the quality but also the politics of cinema, I am asking if there is anything you can do to help resolve the situation (I don't have your e-mail address unfortunately). My argument is that banning my film from Landmark isn't going to get Comcast to change their minds about HDNet, and that punishing me to punish them is a little bit like Bush invading Iraq - the analogy being that it's innocent civilians and bystanders who end up getting screwed the most, and it doesn't even accomplish its purported mission. The people getting screwed in this case, besides me, are the moviegoers who aren't going to be able to see the film because of an ill-conceived internecine dispute.
My sense of Mark Cuban is that he's a well-meaning and not unreasonable person, but I can't help thinking that your eloquence in this matter would be far more persuasive than mine.
In any case, I wish you the best of luck with your five (!) upcoming HD films for HDNet, and I wish HDNet every success in their struggle for a seat at the Comcast table.
With sincere admiration for your enviable body of work,
Caveh Zahedi
Dear Caveh
Mark Cuban, bless his soul, has responded to my e-mail (see the previous entry) asking him to reconsider his decision to banish my film from his theater chain (Landmark). Here is his very straightforward response:
"Its unfortunate that you get caught in the crosshairs. In reality , yours
and the other films pulled does make a difference to Comcast. Their big wigs
went around saying they were going to have day n date movies available.
Landmark is the only chain of screens that has no problem playing day n
date.
So in reality , if we don't show the IFC movies that Comcast is using to
promote their Day n Date response to not having the HDNet Movies day n date
program, then the chances are very, very good that Comcast now has no day n
date movies available to it.
We know how hard it is to get day n date movies booked. The
Regals/AMC/Century, etc have basically joined together to say they wont play
any of our Day n Date films. Enron, Bubble, War Within, Herbie Hancock, 1
Last Thing, all movies that have gotten mixed to great reviews, they wont
even play.
So Landmark basically is carrying the torch for Day n Date. If we don't show
IFC or anyone elses day n date releases, chances are they are only going to
be shown in a very very few independent theaters. Which severely reduces
their value to Comcast and creates more reasons for cocmast to pick up HDNet
if they want day n date movies for their customers.
IFC understands this. Remember, they are owned by the same people that own
Clearview Cinemas, and Clearview isnt even showing day n date on a
widespread basis. Only a smattering of off screens here and there.
The good news is that this only applies to Comcast markets. We are happy to
play yours and all the IFC films in non Comcast markets.
And if you want to help, have your friends call the GM of any Comcast market
they are in, and give them a hard time about not having HDnet and HDNet
Movies !
Thanks and all the best
m."
Mark Cuban, bless his soul, has responded to my e-mail (see the previous entry) asking him to reconsider his decision to banish my film from his theater chain (Landmark). Here is his very straightforward response:
"Its unfortunate that you get caught in the crosshairs. In reality , yours
and the other films pulled does make a difference to Comcast. Their big wigs
went around saying they were going to have day n date movies available.
Landmark is the only chain of screens that has no problem playing day n
date.
So in reality , if we don't show the IFC movies that Comcast is using to
promote their Day n Date response to not having the HDNet Movies day n date
program, then the chances are very, very good that Comcast now has no day n
date movies available to it.
We know how hard it is to get day n date movies booked. The
Regals/AMC/Century, etc have basically joined together to say they wont play
any of our Day n Date films. Enron, Bubble, War Within, Herbie Hancock, 1
Last Thing, all movies that have gotten mixed to great reviews, they wont
even play.
So Landmark basically is carrying the torch for Day n Date. If we don't show
IFC or anyone elses day n date releases, chances are they are only going to
be shown in a very very few independent theaters. Which severely reduces
their value to Comcast and creates more reasons for cocmast to pick up HDNet
if they want day n date movies for their customers.
IFC understands this. Remember, they are owned by the same people that own
Clearview Cinemas, and Clearview isnt even showing day n date on a
widespread basis. Only a smattering of off screens here and there.
The good news is that this only applies to Comcast markets. We are happy to
play yours and all the IFC films in non Comcast markets.
And if you want to help, have your friends call the GM of any Comcast market
they are in, and give them a hard time about not having HDnet and HDNet
Movies !
Thanks and all the best
m."
Dear Comcast
Yesterday, Mark Cuban (who owns the Landmark Theater chain) decided to pull my film from his theaters because of an altercation with Comcast, which has a Video-on-Demand output deal with IFC films, the distribution company that picked up my film as part of their new "IFC First Take" initiative. The idea behind "IFC First Take" is to make films available simultaneously in theaters and through video-on-demand, so that people who don't live near a theater where the film is playing can still have the opportunity to see it right after they read or hear about it.
I responded to the sudden banning of my film with an open letter to Mark Cuban (see yesterday's entry). Well, much to my surprise, Mark Cuban responded with a rather long and not wholly unsympathetic comment, which I will quote here:
"Lets set the record straight here. The folks at IFC knew last month where i stood on this and why.
This is from March 9th:
http://www.cinematical.com/2006/03/09/why-day-date-isnt-ready-to-save-the-day-laws-and-sausages/
"It certainly sounds like a worthy endeavor, but evidence is mounting that the IFC program is far from a perfect work. IFC has teamed up with Comcast, to offer each title in homes nationwide. This brings us back to Mark Cuban: rumors are going around that Cuban is banning the First Take films from his Landmark Theaters, in retaliation at Comcast for refusing to carry the two HD Nets. (I've heard all kinds of confirmations and denials on this - if Mark is reading this, I'm sure he'll step in and say what's what). That squabble aside, we don't have to look far ahead to see trouble on First Take's horizon. The next major release on their schedule is I Am a Sex Addict, Caveh Zahedi's autobiographical essay about how he quenched his previously unquenchable thirst for prostitutes. The film has been bouncing around the festival circuit for a year and, as you might have guessed from the title alone, it was not the most commercial property up for grabs in 2005. That IFC would snatch up the experimental, video-shot sort-of doc anyway, and pair it up with a distribution model for which it appears to be ideally suited, would seem to indicate some faith in there being an audience for its content."
IFC knew.
Our mistake at Landmark for not communicating the position to all of our buyers. So IFC realized this and booked the films anyway.
Once I saw American Gun was in theaters, i realized what had happnd and stopped it.
Of course what wasnt said was that Landmark Theaters are the only theaters happy to book day n date releases. its not like you turned down other screens for ours.
IFC knows this very well as well. Otherwise they just would have taken them elsewhere.
Tell IFC not to show them on Comcast and we are happy to play the movies.
I'm sorry that you got caught in the crossfire, but IFC wasnt caught by suprise by this.
I apologize that there was disorganization on our side that let it get this far.
Hopefully IFC will just pull the movies from Comcast and it can all get worked out.
I'm guessing the theatrical release is the key to you and not Comcast VOD.
My email is mark@hd.net if you want to get in touch with me directly."
I took Mark Cuban up on his offer to get in touch with him directly and I wrote him the following e-mail. I am currently awaiting his answer.
Dear Mark,
Thank you for your comment on my blog. I really appreciate your addressing this. I thought it was very classy of you.
I'm just an independent filmmaker, so I really have no idea what IFC (which is not one person but many) knew or did not know. But from where I'm standing, it sounds like there may have been a few misunderstandings along the way.
I have already signed a contract with IFC to distribute my film, so it's no longer up to me to dictate where it plays or where it doesn't. But just so you know, we did turn down other theaters that wanted to play the film because we all felt that Landmark theaters were the best place to show it. I, personally, love Landmark's taste (they almost always show the best films in town), and I also love their magazine (FLM). That's a great magazine.
I'm also a big fan of the whole day and date thing. I think it makes total sense, and I especially loved what you wrote about making it worthwhile for theaters by giving them a percentage of the DVD.
I seriously doubt that IFC is going to pull out of their Comcast deal, since Video-on-Demand is a significant part of their projected income for the films they are releasing, and a film like mine probably wouldn't have gotten picked up by them if it weren't for their Comcast deal. I have no idea why Comcast is refusing to carry the two HDNETs. In a pluralistic society, they obviously should. HDNET has made some great films, and a lot of people would want to be able to see them. But do you really think that pulling my film from your theaters is going to persuade Comcast to carry HDNET? I don't think Comcast could care less whether you pull my film or not. It just seems to me like a case of killing the messenger. Or taking one of the passersby hostage. I had nothing to do with Comcast's decision. I was just minding my own business, trying to get my film shown.
If there's anything I can do to help create peace between HDNET and Comcast, I would be happy to try. But I feel confident in conjecturing that my opinion on the matter is of absolutely no importance to Comcast whatsoever.
Meanwhile, I would urge you to reconsider your decision about pulling my film. It took me 14 years to make, I put everything I have into it, and I think the film has something important to say. In short, I think you might like it.
In any case, I wish you and HDNET the best. May there be peace between HDNET and Comcast, and may Comcast soon carry HDNET!
Yours Truly,
Caveh
Yesterday, Mark Cuban (who owns the Landmark Theater chain) decided to pull my film from his theaters because of an altercation with Comcast, which has a Video-on-Demand output deal with IFC films, the distribution company that picked up my film as part of their new "IFC First Take" initiative. The idea behind "IFC First Take" is to make films available simultaneously in theaters and through video-on-demand, so that people who don't live near a theater where the film is playing can still have the opportunity to see it right after they read or hear about it.
I responded to the sudden banning of my film with an open letter to Mark Cuban (see yesterday's entry). Well, much to my surprise, Mark Cuban responded with a rather long and not wholly unsympathetic comment, which I will quote here:
"Lets set the record straight here. The folks at IFC knew last month where i stood on this and why.
This is from March 9th:
http://www.cinematical.com/2006/03/09/why-day-date-isnt-ready-to-save-the-day-laws-and-sausages/
"It certainly sounds like a worthy endeavor, but evidence is mounting that the IFC program is far from a perfect work. IFC has teamed up with Comcast, to offer each title in homes nationwide. This brings us back to Mark Cuban: rumors are going around that Cuban is banning the First Take films from his Landmark Theaters, in retaliation at Comcast for refusing to carry the two HD Nets. (I've heard all kinds of confirmations and denials on this - if Mark is reading this, I'm sure he'll step in and say what's what). That squabble aside, we don't have to look far ahead to see trouble on First Take's horizon. The next major release on their schedule is I Am a Sex Addict, Caveh Zahedi's autobiographical essay about how he quenched his previously unquenchable thirst for prostitutes. The film has been bouncing around the festival circuit for a year and, as you might have guessed from the title alone, it was not the most commercial property up for grabs in 2005. That IFC would snatch up the experimental, video-shot sort-of doc anyway, and pair it up with a distribution model for which it appears to be ideally suited, would seem to indicate some faith in there being an audience for its content."
IFC knew.
Our mistake at Landmark for not communicating the position to all of our buyers. So IFC realized this and booked the films anyway.
Once I saw American Gun was in theaters, i realized what had happnd and stopped it.
Of course what wasnt said was that Landmark Theaters are the only theaters happy to book day n date releases. its not like you turned down other screens for ours.
IFC knows this very well as well. Otherwise they just would have taken them elsewhere.
Tell IFC not to show them on Comcast and we are happy to play the movies.
I'm sorry that you got caught in the crossfire, but IFC wasnt caught by suprise by this.
I apologize that there was disorganization on our side that let it get this far.
Hopefully IFC will just pull the movies from Comcast and it can all get worked out.
I'm guessing the theatrical release is the key to you and not Comcast VOD.
My email is mark@hd.net if you want to get in touch with me directly."
I took Mark Cuban up on his offer to get in touch with him directly and I wrote him the following e-mail. I am currently awaiting his answer.
Dear Mark,
Thank you for your comment on my blog. I really appreciate your addressing this. I thought it was very classy of you.
I'm just an independent filmmaker, so I really have no idea what IFC (which is not one person but many) knew or did not know. But from where I'm standing, it sounds like there may have been a few misunderstandings along the way.
I have already signed a contract with IFC to distribute my film, so it's no longer up to me to dictate where it plays or where it doesn't. But just so you know, we did turn down other theaters that wanted to play the film because we all felt that Landmark theaters were the best place to show it. I, personally, love Landmark's taste (they almost always show the best films in town), and I also love their magazine (FLM). That's a great magazine.
I'm also a big fan of the whole day and date thing. I think it makes total sense, and I especially loved what you wrote about making it worthwhile for theaters by giving them a percentage of the DVD.
I seriously doubt that IFC is going to pull out of their Comcast deal, since Video-on-Demand is a significant part of their projected income for the films they are releasing, and a film like mine probably wouldn't have gotten picked up by them if it weren't for their Comcast deal. I have no idea why Comcast is refusing to carry the two HDNETs. In a pluralistic society, they obviously should. HDNET has made some great films, and a lot of people would want to be able to see them. But do you really think that pulling my film from your theaters is going to persuade Comcast to carry HDNET? I don't think Comcast could care less whether you pull my film or not. It just seems to me like a case of killing the messenger. Or taking one of the passersby hostage. I had nothing to do with Comcast's decision. I was just minding my own business, trying to get my film shown.
If there's anything I can do to help create peace between HDNET and Comcast, I would be happy to try. But I feel confident in conjecturing that my opinion on the matter is of absolutely no importance to Comcast whatsoever.
Meanwhile, I would urge you to reconsider your decision about pulling my film. It took me 14 years to make, I put everything I have into it, and I think the film has something important to say. In short, I think you might like it.
In any case, I wish you and HDNET the best. May there be peace between HDNET and Comcast, and may Comcast soon carry HDNET!
Yours Truly,
Caveh
Dear Mr. Mark Cuban
I got a phone call today from IFC. Apparently, Mr. Mark Cuban (the very wealthy owner of the Dallas Mavericks) has decided to pull our movie from the Landmark Theater chain (which he owns) because his TV station, HDNET, wasn't able to get on Comcast (which is airing the film as a Video-on-Demand title starting this Wednesday). The film was set to open this Friday at a Landmark Theater in Berkeley. Postcards have been made and sent out. Posters have been put up. Articles have been written. But he has decided to nix our screening (on a whim?). People are going to show up to the theater, and will be told: "Sorry, Mr. Mark Cuban decided he didn't want this particular film playing at his movie theater, because IFC Films is distributing it, and they have a video-on-demand deal with Comcast, which hasn't been very nice to him."
Well, dear Mr. Mark Cuban, I know nothing about your beef with the folks at Comcast (I've never met the gentlemen) but I made a film which your theater has advertised as opening this Friday, and I would argue that it's not exactly considerate to just cancel the screening (without warning) only a few days before it's set to open. There are people who have nothing to do with your Comcast disagreement who will be adversely affected by your peremptory actions. I know you can afford it (financially speaking), but it strikes me as not exactly in keeping with the high moral standard you yourself set in the Enron movie you produced (which I thought was excellent, by the way, my congratulations on that). I sincerely hope that you will reconsider your decision. Perhaps you didn't realize the effect that your decision would have on others who wish both you and the Dallas Mavericks nothing but the best.
Yours Truly,
Caveh Zahedi
I got a phone call today from IFC. Apparently, Mr. Mark Cuban (the very wealthy owner of the Dallas Mavericks) has decided to pull our movie from the Landmark Theater chain (which he owns) because his TV station, HDNET, wasn't able to get on Comcast (which is airing the film as a Video-on-Demand title starting this Wednesday). The film was set to open this Friday at a Landmark Theater in Berkeley. Postcards have been made and sent out. Posters have been put up. Articles have been written. But he has decided to nix our screening (on a whim?). People are going to show up to the theater, and will be told: "Sorry, Mr. Mark Cuban decided he didn't want this particular film playing at his movie theater, because IFC Films is distributing it, and they have a video-on-demand deal with Comcast, which hasn't been very nice to him."
Well, dear Mr. Mark Cuban, I know nothing about your beef with the folks at Comcast (I've never met the gentlemen) but I made a film which your theater has advertised as opening this Friday, and I would argue that it's not exactly considerate to just cancel the screening (without warning) only a few days before it's set to open. There are people who have nothing to do with your Comcast disagreement who will be adversely affected by your peremptory actions. I know you can afford it (financially speaking), but it strikes me as not exactly in keeping with the high moral standard you yourself set in the Enron movie you produced (which I thought was excellent, by the way, my congratulations on that). I sincerely hope that you will reconsider your decision. Perhaps you didn't realize the effect that your decision would have on others who wish both you and the Dallas Mavericks nothing but the best.
Yours Truly,
Caveh Zahedi
Success Hurts
There was a big piece in the San Francisco Chronicle today about the film. It was about as positive as one could ask for, and kind of delightfully written, but it's always fascinating to see the tiny distortions to the truth that are made to maximize journalistic appeal. The same is true with filmmaking in general, but journalism purports to a greater fidelity to "truth." It's all true, but it's phrased in ways that make the truth just incrementally more absurd and dramatic. I'm not complaining. I actually like it. But it's like looking into a distorting mirror at the funhouse. It's fun, but is that really how one looks?
There was a big piece in the San Francisco Chronicle today about the film. It was about as positive as one could ask for, and kind of delightfully written, but it's always fascinating to see the tiny distortions to the truth that are made to maximize journalistic appeal. The same is true with filmmaking in general, but journalism purports to a greater fidelity to "truth." It's all true, but it's phrased in ways that make the truth just incrementally more absurd and dramatic. I'm not complaining. I actually like it. But it's like looking into a distorting mirror at the funhouse. It's fun, but is that really how one looks?
Welcome to Advertocracy
Art is about truth. Advertising is about manipulation.
Art wants to say what can't be said.
Advertising wants you to do something specific.
These two things are, fundamentally, at odds. You make a film because there is something you want to say. And then you have to advertise that film in order to get people to be able to hear what you said. But the process of advertising the film is, in some ways, antithetical to what it is you are trying to say.
If the film embodies a critique of dishonesty, then it seems absurd to launch into an advertising campaign to promote the film.
How to advertise a film without being dishonest? How to advertise a film without an agenda in which people become instruments of your advertisement? How to treat people as free human agents, and also convince them that they should see your movie? Is it possible? Or are the two things essentially and forever at odds? And if so, what is one to do?
I'm starting to feel uncomfortable with the whole marketing campaign for this movie. It feels manipulative. It feels like trying to sell something. There's a difference between letting someone know about something (such as a party) and trying to persuade them to go to that thing. One way is: "Hey, there's a party at such and such a place on such and such a night." The other way is: "Hey, there's this really great party happening at such and such a place on such and such a night. You should really try to go!" The first is informational. The second manipulative (and, I would argue, uncaring).
I would like to let people know that the film is opening, and what it is about, and what it is like. I don't want to manipulate people into going. How does one do the former without falling into the latter? I don't know, but I'm open to suggestions...
Art is about truth. Advertising is about manipulation.
Art wants to say what can't be said.
Advertising wants you to do something specific.
These two things are, fundamentally, at odds. You make a film because there is something you want to say. And then you have to advertise that film in order to get people to be able to hear what you said. But the process of advertising the film is, in some ways, antithetical to what it is you are trying to say.
If the film embodies a critique of dishonesty, then it seems absurd to launch into an advertising campaign to promote the film.
How to advertise a film without being dishonest? How to advertise a film without an agenda in which people become instruments of your advertisement? How to treat people as free human agents, and also convince them that they should see your movie? Is it possible? Or are the two things essentially and forever at odds? And if so, what is one to do?
I'm starting to feel uncomfortable with the whole marketing campaign for this movie. It feels manipulative. It feels like trying to sell something. There's a difference between letting someone know about something (such as a party) and trying to persuade them to go to that thing. One way is: "Hey, there's a party at such and such a place on such and such a night." The other way is: "Hey, there's this really great party happening at such and such a place on such and such a night. You should really try to go!" The first is informational. The second manipulative (and, I would argue, uncaring).
I would like to let people know that the film is opening, and what it is about, and what it is like. I don't want to manipulate people into going. How does one do the former without falling into the latter? I don't know, but I'm open to suggestions...
Blogavhad Gita
In the Bhagavad Gita, when Arjuna refuses to fight, and questions the logic of killing, Krishna explains to Arjuna that the central philosophical question is: why do anything? Why not just do nothing?
Krishna's answer to this questions comprises the bulk of the Gita, and his basic argument is: because you can't do nothing. To do nothing is to die. To be alive is to struggle, to do, to try.
As a filmmaker, there are days when you ask yourself: why make films at all? Why not just not make them? God knows it's a pain in the ass, and there are days when it all seems like it's just not worth it. Today was one of those days.
I Am A Sex Addict opens in 4 days. The film's box office will determine not only the fate of the film, but my own fate as well. Whether it will become easier to make films, or harder. Whether the drawbridge over the moat will come down or stay up. And I'm finding myself on edge.
Krishna says to Arjuna: You have to fight because that's your job. You are a warrior. That's who you are. And whether you fight or not, your enemies will die today, because it is I who decide who gets to live and who must die. You are just the instrument of my will.
Well, for better of for worse, we are in the same boat as Arjuna. And we too have a job. Our job is to make films. And to make them as well as we possibly can. And to get them seen as widely as possible. And God knows we're trying.
Sometimes we stumble. Sometimes we fuck up. Sometimes we can't remember why we're even doing it. But we have to trudge on. Because that's our job. And, fortunately or unfortunately, we have no choice.
In the Bhagavad Gita, when Arjuna refuses to fight, and questions the logic of killing, Krishna explains to Arjuna that the central philosophical question is: why do anything? Why not just do nothing?
Krishna's answer to this questions comprises the bulk of the Gita, and his basic argument is: because you can't do nothing. To do nothing is to die. To be alive is to struggle, to do, to try.
As a filmmaker, there are days when you ask yourself: why make films at all? Why not just not make them? God knows it's a pain in the ass, and there are days when it all seems like it's just not worth it. Today was one of those days.
I Am A Sex Addict opens in 4 days. The film's box office will determine not only the fate of the film, but my own fate as well. Whether it will become easier to make films, or harder. Whether the drawbridge over the moat will come down or stay up. And I'm finding myself on edge.
Krishna says to Arjuna: You have to fight because that's your job. You are a warrior. That's who you are. And whether you fight or not, your enemies will die today, because it is I who decide who gets to live and who must die. You are just the instrument of my will.
Well, for better of for worse, we are in the same boat as Arjuna. And we too have a job. Our job is to make films. And to make them as well as we possibly can. And to get them seen as widely as possible. And God knows we're trying.
Sometimes we stumble. Sometimes we fuck up. Sometimes we can't remember why we're even doing it. But we have to trudge on. Because that's our job. And, fortunately or unfortunately, we have no choice.
