How To Find Investors For Your Awful Film

Getting funding for your awful film simply requires a trip home, some buxom blondes, and a lot of champagne

February 27, 2007

Scoring the bling to fund your movie is just a plane flight away.

When screening an awful film for the first time, two questions loom in mind of a potential distributor: 1) "How long before I see some tits?" and 2) "Who paid for this crap?" The answers he seeks are always the same: 1) "Within the first three minutes," and 2) "Bored dentists in Akron, Ohio."

The second answer may surprise aspiring awful filmmakers, who assume that high-interest credit cards are the lifeblood of the industry. While it's true that VISA and Mastercard shoulder the initial burden of indie filmmaking, the bulk of the film's financing can usually be traced back to respectable neighborhoods in the American Midwest. In fact, experts now believe that up to 70 percent of the films with the words "Kung Fu" or "Spring Break" in the title have been paid for by solid citizens who live in the affluent suburbs of Omaha and Denver.

Aspiring awful filmmakers should be aware of this hidden source of funding, and start familiarizing themselves with that vast stretch of land between New York City and Los Angeles. Before you start pricing flights to Omaha, here are some tips to make your pledge drive more successful:

1) Why you avoid the locals
You can always find a sugar daddy in LA or NYC; both cities are full of bored insurance lawyers and real estate developers just itching to empty their wallets in exchange for invitations to premieres and cast parties stocked with hot-looking women of questionable virtue. Unfortunately, these people want something else, too: to get their money back. With interest. Though not directly affiliated with the movie business, their close proximity to Hollywood has made them very aware of the entertainment industry's curious accounting methods and fictional budget projections. So before any cash changes hands, the awful filmmaker will be besieged with requests for letters of intent, distribution agreements and -- worst of all -- a list of the revenue from your past "hits."

2) Get nostalgic
These hardball terms make an awful filmmaker yearn for a simpler time, when movie deals could be closed with a handshake, and people were willing to drain their entire retirement fund for a "co-producer" credit. Maybe it's time to (temporarily) return to your roots, reflect on life, and contemplate the future. In other words, it's time to go back to your hometown in Ohio, and shake down your high school friends for money, just like you used to.


3) Lay the groundwork
Before you start, you’ll need to make sure your old pals know all about your glamorous new career. Create a PR campaign aimed at everyone you know with a working email address, starting a few months before a major holiday weekend or college reunion. This will give you time to bring everyone up to speed on the carefully edited version of your life in "The Industry." In your notes, casually mention the nonstop parties and premieres that make up the glittering world of the independent filmmaker -- and his investors. Bascially, imply that your life is a nonstop episode of Entourage. When questioned for details about your next film project, send everyone a link to a hastily created MySpace page covered with voluptuous women gift-wrapped in slinky lingerie, all of whom leave you messages about "stopping by later for an audition."

4) Conduct background checks
Next, write up a prospective donor list. A little Googling of your childhood compadres should provide clues to who’s been raking in the dough since you moved away. According to Google, the Akron Fine Arts Museum has just named a wing after your old high school girlfriend. You remember, the one who said she’d love you forever. Hmmm, sounds like someone you can work with. Here’s another potential revenue stream just waiting to be drained: Yahoo News reports your college roommate just sold his family farm for $20 million. Nice! Call him now, while he’s still listed in the phone book.

5) Plan a party
As Hometown Visit Week nears, start inviting these people to have cocktails with you, as movie investing is seldom done sober. Shamelessly use your parents house as your base of operations. Have your "publicist" call the local paper and suggest they do a feature story on you and your upcoming film, and have it run the week of the reunion. Most small-town papers love the local-boy-or-girl-finally-does-something-cool story. It will reinforce the painful contrast between your amazing life, and the dreary, predictable existence of everyone you left behind.

6) Cast your posse
Finally, you'll need to recruit a temporary entourage to accompany you on your trip. This group will be comprised of your equally destitute co-producers, your starving film crew, and everyone's unemployable-but-sexy girlfriends tol serve as attractive props. Their job is simply to look good and reinforce the fraudulent tales you’ve been spinning, while you stand by faking embarrassment and modestly begging them to stop. Don't take any chances -- rehearse "talking points" with your team beforehand, so no one blurts out any unhelpful stories, like the hilarious one about your car getting repossessed, or how you’re still getting money from your mom.

7) Get the party started
Once you’ve gotten your rich friends under one roof and drunk on cheap champagne, it's time to make your move. After regaling the crowd with yet another Sundance threesome story, casually mention that you still have a few investment opportunities available for your upcoming film "Revenge of the Alligator Women," so if they know anyone who might want to go to the Oscars… (Note: Whenever you're hitting up your guy friends, always make sure that two of the hottest female members of your entourage are stationed nearby, either rubbing your back or playfully unbuttoning your shirt.) Of course, it's your duty to remind them that investing in a film is a risky business, and that it may take "a few years" to recoup the money, "if at all" (at this point, the girls should be making out with each other), but there are a lot of fringe benefits to be had (shoot a quick glance at the girls) in the meantime.

By midnight you should have your old pals on their knees, waving fistfuls of money in your face. While you're walking around collecting checks, you might casually mention there's going to be a sequel too… and you'd like to offer them first crack at investing. Hey, no need to thank you; after all, that's what friends are for!

Susan Self is a publicist who lives in Los Angeles.

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