A good way to watch your company die is to bite the hand that feeds you. In order to protect my integrity as a lowly bit player in this industry, I will change the names of the offending parties to which I refer.

The Bleinstein Company, no stranger to disappointing revenue, now plumbs its reputation as a champion of independent cinema and the voices behind them in press releases for their DVD distributions banner, Third Rail Releasing (not an offending party). That reputation, however, was earned back when the Bleinsteins ran Bliramax. Now, with their chips relatively down and no Oscar prospects on the foreseeable horizon, they’re quick to regard their straight-to-DVD acquisitions as mere cash grabs, and Third Rail’s work as “a good way of differentiating between what we really believe in, and what has been for ancillary value.”1

I am quick to respond.

Look, I get it. Every burgeoning outlet for struggling independent filmmakers gets laughed at, almost as a point of necessity. Most people who watch movies on their iPhone aren’t necessarily quick to admit it. A Craigslist post looking for editors on a “dramedic web series set in high school circa 1980” is like the professional kiss of death to smug freelancers. We remain in love with the thought of a theatrical premiere. You won’t find searchlights and red carpets at Mooviez4Phree.com, or near the monitors of an upscale Starbucks. You’ll just find eyeballs, watching your work for what it is. And who wants that, since everyone’s a comment box critic these days, and meaner too? I’ll take Michael Rosenbaum, Jan Stuart and J. Hoberman, thank you.2

Those who are opposed to their life’s work beaming out of unvarnished digital screens to a crowd of disinterested Chipotle victims (and one or two attentive young viewers in the back) have taken to self-distribution, a method so fantastically rebellious and astonishingly ill-advised that it just might work…that is, if you have a cast that includes Alan Rickman, Bill Pullman and Eliza Dushku. Not to slight the makers of Bottle Shock, the film which I reference and haven’t even seen, but casting Severus Snape and the president from Independence Day can’t help but grease the wheels at a few LA art houses here and there. If director Randall Miller settled for faceless, summer stock mannequins instead, I would think it hard just to finance a living room screening in Des Moines.

But that’s another rant devoted to the commercialization of indie film. It must be said: the accomplishment involved in designing, approving, and financing the rollout of your own film is genuinely impressive.

However, it seems the drive to do that stems from the disgust indie filmmakers nurture by falling in love with their art, to the point that they can’t stomach releasing their baby through DVD outlets or streaming it for ad space pennies. The way I see it, if you have a property so genuine, exciting and fresh, there’s no harm in opening the source and letting Netflix vultures eat it up like so much carrion. I’m not suggesting one has to devise the killer business model and direct the best movie they can at the same time, but even if it just means piggybacking your way into Old Media, the first person to approach new methods of distribution with confidence and swagger is going to make a killing. My worry is I won’t get the script for my violent barbarian action flick ready in time to be at the frontline.

Third Rail, you know my name.

  1. Recent iterations of the Third Rail launch story paint a different picture, one that describes the company as a portal for “inventive and edgy vanguard films” to find their audiences. Whether or not this is a cover-up so the Bleinsteins don’t piss off the very people actually making them money, it sure doesn’t erase the bite marks on that hand. Hey Blarvey, how are the numbers looking on Hell Ride? What’s that? It only got distribution because Quentin put his name on it? I was wondering why you let a Grindhouse knock-off slip into theaters. Okay, this footnote’s about to require its own footnotes.
  2. Oh wait. The internet killed their jobs.