Not a front for a secret organization.
Written by Rob Schultz (human).
My pal Becky thought up a Christmas song, then recorded it with the help of her friend Jason's friend Sam. Next, she shot a music video with a bunch of people I don't know by name. And finally, I asked if I could help too. The whole process only took a week!
If you were working on a neat creative project, I could probably help you out too!
Regularly scheduled blog service for 2017 kicks off with this new demo reel, for all of your effects and graphics needs.
If you need help making your thing, I can help you make your thing! Look at all of these other people I helped with their thing! That could be you!
Another year-end video for the Antaeus Theatre Company, directed as always by Diani & Devine.
They've had a rough year.
This is the last part in my series of articles about making a sellable pilot presentation. The one I made was called Talk Show the Game Show.
Earlier in the week, we talked about pitching, shooting, and cutting. Today I'll hand out a few things I've learned about what happens after. Next week, maybe we'll cover how to rebroadcast Cleveland Indians baseball games without the express written permission of Major League Baseball. I'm pretty sure it's easier, cheaper, and approximately as lucrative.
Guy Branum once told me that I did more to make the TV version of Talk Show the Game Show a reality than anyone, including his representation. Of course, people will say all kinds of flattering things about how valuable you and/or your friendship are to them when you're being left out of a business deal.
I've made this mistake before. I probably make it about once a year, in fact. Never on this scale though - usually it's for some kind of already cheap short film where the director/star/sound recordist/writer takes their low res sample copy and splits.
If you need to draw up a quick deal, I like the Shake app for iOS - you tap in some basic terms and both parties sign on the screen or via email. It's great for quick jobs and sometimes, like having a slate on set, it lends an air of realness to the proceedings that help a client to focus.
When problems do arise, an editor often has pretty good leverage. I have had to withhold projects, drives, or high-quality outputs until the paycheck comes through. Of course, in this case, I didn't do that because I thought this project was my project, and we all got paid when we sold a show. With a contract, everyone's intentions would have been made clearer.
Sometimes, when the other party still withholds payment and nobody ever gets what they want, I turn those projects around into other projects, like visual effects demos, or a series of educational essays.
A few years back, after assembling the first cut of a movie, the producers said that they were out of money and that they would take over from there because it would be cheaper not to have to pay me. That's pretty solid logic. It wasn't until the Xth phone call for Avid tech support that I had to remind the producer-turned-editor that since I don't work for him, I don't work for him.
I shot a second video with Guy and made plans for third. In my book, that almost made us friends!
Kidding again. I guess. I didn't really think we were going to be actual friends, but "business associates" seemed achievable. I admire Guy's drive to actually make things. It's not an entirely common quality even among people who nominally work in showbiz, and it's a stronger indicator for me of a possibly successful partnership than just being pals. I still believe in TSGS as a project, too, and I'm excited to see how it will be condensed for a 22-minute format.
You know what? A better tip here would have been on how to not get fired. Like "be indispensable" or something. Perhaps a lot of people could have made this show, it's just that they didn't. Until they did. TV, it seems, doesn't play by all of the same rules as modern art.
Man, I'm bad at this one too. I can divide almost everything I've worked on into one of two piles: projects I'm proud of and projects that paid me. I'm trying to find a bridge between the two, and I thought producing something myself might have been the answer. Maybe one day it will be!
I borrowed all of the equipment we shot this pilot on from a production company that I freelance for. I also asked them for a quote on the job. If someone wanted to hire that company to use the same equipment, provide the same amount of crew, with the same me running the show, their producer's "conservative" estimate is nearly $9000. Hell of a freebie.
No money changed hands on this production, just occasional handshakes and promises. The good news is, it's all tax-free!
I hope you have found each article of this series to be in some way genuinely helpful. Or funny. Or at least not too boring. Parts of this final entry, I'm sure, will come off like sour grapes, but I mean… Yeah. Of course.
Part 1: Finding your Show
Part 2: Shooting your Show
Part 3: Editing your Show
Part 4: Mistakes to Avoid
Rob Schultz is an editor, comedian, and really very helpful when it comes to making a thing. He's had a hand in bringing over 300 creative projects to life. Roughly 40 of them took place AFTER this pilot! If you'd like help making your project better, get in touch.
This week we're talking about how to make a pilot presentation that sells. Specifically, we're talking about how to make a pilot presentation of Talk Show the Game Show. If that's not the show that you're making, some of the details might turn out differently.
On Tuesday we talked project discovery, and yesterday was about the shoot, so today we're going to discuss post-production, and I'm going to mention a few things that will make projects better. Also, today's entry turned out a little bit shorter than yesterday, because I've been cutting each section to the bone, just like you should! With your video, I mean. You don't want it getting overly long. Especially if it's about how much better things would be if other people would be more economical and decisive in their editing. That would be terrible.
Every part of a production is about looking to the future. Pre-production is about preparing to shoot, which is about preparing for post, which is about preparing for viewers. You need to consider your audience, and how they would love to turn your video off and go do anything else.
That means that if there are boring parts, cut them out. Mistakes too. If someone does something that seems untoward or unprofessional (and it doesn't get a laugh), you can drop it. With a live show, you can get boxed in by people making reference to events that happened earlier - that's fine, you don't need to surgically restructure the whole show if you don't want to.
Lots of cuts can be made invisibly, with your viewing audience none the wiser. Too many cuts might be surreal. This project was supposed to seem live and casual, so I wasn't about to try to polish up every sentence, but we dropped 5-10 minutes from the events that happened on the day, because 'the way it really happened' doesn't matter. You only see the take where the toothpaste curls perfectly on the brush.
Editing is like doing magic - if you put in an unreasonable amount of work you can learn to do something so well that nobody notices you did anything. Do your best to move the viewer's attention where it belongs. With a live program, I like cutting to someone just after they begin speaking. It mimics how you might track a conversation in person, or how a show that's broadcast live might take an instant to follow the action. After you've established this conversational rhythm, you occasionally get a bonus laugh by breaking it and being right on top of a sharp joke.
Hey, use that coverage you picked up! Judge Casey rings the bell and awards points all throughout the show. Even though the judge cam didn't cover him, I still got a few shots of him awarding points when I knew someone said something that was going to score, and we reused the shot in the edit.
If, hypothetically, one of the cameras sometimes cuts during the show, particularly at the part where that camera's angle is most needed, you'll be glad you have some options.
Sketchy video quality makes videos seem authentic in the age of YouTube. Sketchy audio quality makes videos seem like they suck.
It's important that the performers voices are clear, and because we're making a commercial, it's important that the audience loves every single thing they say, To that end, here's what our sound track looks like:
You'll recall that we discussed keeping the audience visible to make it look like this show has to turn people away at the door. This is the audio equivalent. "Wow," you might say to yourself, "listen to those laughs! My boss will buy me a car if I greenlight this show!"
And greenlight it they did. Within about a week of the shoot, we sent out the edited, mixed, and colored video (today I wish I'd spent a little more time on all three of those, but obviously, the work done here was sufficient) and just one year later Guy was on a soundstage shooting a proper pilot. Join us for the exciting conclusion tomorrow, in which I will almost definitely wrap up with an ill-advised post on the business end of things.
Part 1: Finding your Show
Part 2: Shooting your Show
Part 3: Editing your Show
Part 4: Mistakes to Avoid
Rob Schultz is an editor, comedian, and really very helpful when it comes to making a thing. He's had a hand in bringing over 300 creative projects to life. If you'd like help creating your project, get in touch.
