Crowdfunding – Page 3

Seed & Spark: Taking the Lead

Why, then, are most mainstream movies and TV shows out there representing a world that does not seem to match the real world in which we live? And most importantly, why do we accept that as normal? Why do we buy it? Specially knowing that what we see in movies and on TV, whether we want it or not, shapes our minds and the way we behave and perceive reality. It shapes society as a whole.

This comedy-drama gives us an insight into the life of a father who reveals himself as trans later in life

This is a guest post by Rosa Rodriguez.

I am sure you have heard the terms “lead” and “character” actor/actress. The lead actor/actress is the one who plays the role of the protagonist of a film or show. The character actor/actress plays the sidekick, the friend, the co-worker, the villain, and the minor roles.

Lead actors are usually “attractive” by general, narrow standards: thin, slim, muscular; clear skin and flawless hair and makeup; generally tall and able bodied. They are normally white or, if they have “the right look,” sometimes of other ethnicities. They are young, or youthful. They are normally cisgender and straight. They are the big names that most of us remember.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSwhRZwFjfY”]

A funny parody to Lorde’s “Royals” that definitely strikes a chord.

The character actors are more “unconventional-looking”: short, very tall, bald or balding, stocky, heavy set. They have the crooked noses or teeth, the big ears. They are the people of ethnicities other than white and oftentimes perform with an accent or a speech impediment. They are the middle aged and older guys and gals. They are the gay, transgender, gender fluid, etc. They are usually better known as “Whatshername” or “That guy from that thing” (check out a post on this blog called “Whatshername as a Great Actress: A Celebration of Character Actresses” for a beautiful explanation of what a character actress is and some interesting comparisons to the male counterpart).

These standards are widely spread on mainstream TV and movies, and generally accepted both by audiences and by actors and actresses, who want to be able to work and make a living. We are used to seeing the “attractive” people as the center of the stories. The belief is that the lead actors/actresses have the physical beauty and magnetism “needed” to play love interests and heroes, with whom the general population is meant to identify. The character actors fill the world around these main characters. Some of these supporting roles are quite strong and interesting, but they exist in relation to the leads. They are secondary characters.

The mini series Olive Kitteridge is a beautiful example of a production where we get to follow the story of an older woman who is generally unlikeable, but who wins our heart anyway — The miniseries *Olive Kitteridge* is a beautiful example of a production where we get to follow the story of an older woman who is generally unlikeable, but who wins our heart anyway

A lot of character actors and actresses have managed to have long, successful careers playing supporting roles, and sometimes an offbeat lead here and there. It can be quite fulfilling to play a character with real, human flaws (other than the muted ones usually allowed to the leads, such as clumsiness, shyness, or naïveté). Even when said characters are underwritten, or do not appear in the film or show long enough, it can be very satisfying for the performer and the audience when these brief appearances show interesting, real human beings.

The problem I see with the accepted standards is that in real life every single person is the lead character of his or her particular story. We all have lives, passions, dreams, pursue careers and occupations, fall in love, have our hearts broken. All of us, the thin, the medium sized, the large, the blond, the brunette, the red-head, the bald, the balding, the young, the old, the loud, the quiet, the Hispanic, the Asian, the Middle Eastern, and so on, have goals and aspirations, battles, successes, loses. We all teach and learn lessons in life.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QTCHzcsxrdg”]

A message to Hollywood from a few well-known character actors. Funny and true.

I find myself wanting more than what I am seeing. I want to see more movies and TV shows display a society where people of all looks, sounds, backgrounds, get to lead their own stories. I want to see a story about a Latina with an accent who is a college professor or a scientist. I want to see a story about a short guy with a receding hairline finding the love of his life. I want to see a love story between two senior citizens that is not meant to be a joke. I want to see main characters with some acne, or an apple shaped body, or frizzy hair. I want the full-fledged characters who look like everyday people to be the leads of stories, just like they are in real life. I believe if the audiences demanded more of that, it would be made.

Six Feet Under was so ahead of its time in many ways, including having one of its main characters, David Fisher, be a complex, realistic gay man with a compelling storyline — *Six Feet Under* was so ahead of its time in many ways, including having one of its main characters, David Fisher, be a complex, realistic gay man with a compelling storyline

I am a founding member of a production company called Room 1209 Productions, together with Ravin Patterson, John Wiggins, and Patrick Avella. We define as our mission to generate opportunity for ourselves and our fellow actors, writers, directors, and other artists, through the creation of challenging, imaginative, quality content that represents the diversity found in real life.

Our first project is called Space Available, a character-driven web-series about a film student shooting a documentary in his seedy stepfather’s rehearsal studio, in an effort to expose the underground world he suspects exists behind the artistic façade. This is a project about people, about duality and gray areas.

So far we have been able to finish and release a prologue and two episodes, and are in the midst of a crowdfunding campaign, through Seed & Spark, to fund four more episodes that will complete season one. We have a myriad of characters of all colors, sizes, shapes, and backgrounds in the works, and are proudly committed to creating a space for character actors to take the lead in interesting stories. Should we have the opportunity to finish the first season of this project and move on to others, there will be a rich and diverse lineup of writers, directors, and other artists, that will get to work and tell their stories (to learn more about Space Available, and to view the prologue and first two episodes, visit our website at www.SpaceAvailableSeries.com, and our Seed & Spark campaign page at: http://www.seedandspark.com/studio/space-available-web-series)

Rosa Rodriguez is an actress, singer, writer and producer living in LIC, New York. She was born and raised in the Dominican Republic and is proud of her roots and her accent. She has numerous stage performances, short films, commercials, and industrials to her credit. She also holds a degree in Civil Engineering, and earned her Master’s in Construction Management from NYU. For more about Rosa visit her website: RosaRodriguezNYC.com.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WACRJdl9qVg”]

Seed & Spark: Writing Women

Five-Fingered Lucy, from seedandspark.com, © Jack Lawrence Mayer — *Five-Fingered Lucy*, from seedandspark.com, © Jack Lawrence Mayer

This is a guest post by Martine Moore.

This month, I’ll shoot a short film called Five-Fingered Lucy, in which I play the lead. It’s a dark, girl-meets-patriarchy story about a young shoplifter, written and directed by Jack Lawrence Mayer. The script tackles sexuality, abuse, and solitude. Jack is a long time friend and collaborator, and yet, my decision to be in his film is a conscience call. He is telling a story about male culture from a female point of view. Should I let Jack tell my story for me, or broadly speaking, should women let men tell our stories for us?

This is a question that can be asked at every level of the industry. Let’s take a look at the big awards circuit films this year, as presented by the Golden Globes list of nominees for 2015. Of the Best Picture nominees, only one centers on a woman’s experience, and that’s The Theory of Everything, which, arguably, is a story popularized by the famous male figure it depicts. The film is based on Jane Hawking’s memoir of her marriage to Stephen Hawking. The screenplay is written by a man, Anthony McCarten, and directed by a man, James Marsh.

The Best Actress category is a better place to search for films with female driven content, and here the pattern holds: Cake, Still Alice (an adaptation of Lisa Genova’s novel), Wild (an adaptation of Cheryl Strayed’s memoir) and Big Eyes are all written or adapted and directed by men. Annie has a single woman on the writing staff, Aline Brosh McKenna, but is otherwise written and directed by men. The notable exception is Gone Girl, directed by David Fincher but adapted by Gillian Flynn from her own best-selling novel.*

Cheryl Strayed, from her website, cherylstrayed.com, photo by Jobi Kabana

Much has been made of Gone Girl’s feminist or anti-feminist content and its psychopathic anti-heroine, Amy Dunne. I’m not sure this movie qualifies as female-driven content, as half of the narrative is a male POV, but I saw the movie and will say this: I don’t think it’s up to Flynn, simply by virtue of being a female writer, to create characters that advance the feminist cause, though her reliance on stereotypes that seem to re-reinforce misogynistic views—namely that women lie about rape—is unfortunate. Still, these stereotypes have more to do with Flynn’s capacities as a writer and her chosen genre than they do with her stance on feminism. I side with Zoë Heller, who wrote in the New York Review of Books that both the novel and film are too plainly pieces of pop entertainment to be taken as serious examinations of gender.

Yet, Flynn carried her story into this second, male-dominated medium on her own, which is no small feat. How come the female authors of best-selling books like Genova and Strayed didn’t adapt their own work for the screen?

Strayed, in an interview with Indiewire, is asked the question, and responds, “Well I wasn’t offered the job! And I think I agree why. Reese and Bruna both felt that with a memoir the writer isn’t the best person to make that adaptation because he or she is too close to the material and to that life.” Apparently the best person for the job is Nick Hornby, a popular male British writer who has written numerous novels and screenplays. He received Strayed’s blessing before adapting Wild.

Can men tell authentic stories from the female perspective? For any artist, the world should be his or her fictional oyster. Men can write women, and women can write men; imagination and empathy do not have a gender. Male filmmakers who are captivated by women’s stories and want to tell them can be allies. Actresses are still lucky to get a role in which they are fully developed (and fully clothed), with nuance and an inner life, and many words to speak. Still, the overwhelming likelihood is that those words will be written by a man, and spoken under the direction of another, despite the source material.

Women’s Media Center logo, from their website, womensmediacenter.com

It’s not enough to simply say to women, “Make your own work.” They are attempting to do so. Look at enrollment numbers in film schools, as one indication. Women make up 46 percent of USC’s School of Cinematic Studies, according to their admissions site. On the indie film circuit, women’s participation is greater as well, making up 26.4 percent of writers at Sundance in 2013, and 50 percent of its narrative directors. But when women hit the larger market and the culture at large, these numbers slide drastically. Women either can’t get hired or secure funding. The Center for the Study of Women in Television & Film at San Diego State has found that women’s participation behind the camera is at 16 percent for the top 250 domestically made films in 2013, down one point from 1998. The Center’s Director, Dr. Martha Lauzen, is quoted as saying “there is no evidence to suggest that women’s employment has improved in key behind-the-scenes roles over the last 16 years,” debunking anyone’s notion of gradual but linear progress.

So, where does that leave us? There are the dismal numbers, all laid out, Hollywood’s claims that it can’t take risks, that women are a financial liability (though they buy the majority of movie tickets), or that the few female execs that climb to the top can’t or won’t pull other women up with them. But on the micro-level, this is about individual decisions each woman makes when she allows a story she wrote to be usurped as it transfers to the screen, or takes a part, no matter how fantastic, that is written and directed by a man. It’s a decision that comes with internal conflict. We’ve come a ways in acknowledging that women’s stories on screen hold universal, non-gendered appeal. We need to take the next step in giving women more opportunity to tell them themselves.

*While this is a separate though related discussion, I would be remiss not to point out that all these stories, with the exception of a re-imagined Annie, are about white women.

Martine Moore is an actress and writer living in Los Angeles. She is a co-creator of the web series Ingenue and will appear in the upcoming shorts Dry and Five-Fingered Lucy and the feature, Americana. martineaverymoore.com

Seed & Spark: What Do Women Want?

Still searching for a way to answer our question of fairness, the young woman of Jumla, sitting wearily before me, looked quizzically at our translator.

Our translator said: “She’s asking what ‘fair’ means.”

This is a guest post by Sophie Dia Pegrum.

A voice. After filming a day in the life of a young woman of Jumla, Nepal, we asked her whether she considered the physical burdens of her life fair in comparison to her young husband. She thought about it for a long time. I sat, exhausted, watching her thoughts pass across her face from my position behind the camera. As the co-director and DP, I had spent what I considered a fairly grueling day arising before dawn, hauling my first world gear several miles up a mountain pass to follow this young woman while she searched for firewood, chopped it, and carried a seemingly impossible load back down the steep mountain path. The morning’s trek was engaged at a rather leisurely pace by her standards due me getting all the shots I wanted while desperately searching for my inner mountain filmmaker goat. This was just the beginning of a long day which also involved her journey across the village to milk a cow, cook meals for her husband’s family, and to hand clay wash the front of their stone house using freezing water. Her husband had been hanging out in the village most of the day and had decided to go to the river to fish in the afternoon.

Families in Jumla will often spend their limited resources educating their sons, for as soon as a young girl is married, she goes to live with the family of her husband, and essentially becomes their scullion. Why use the little assets a family has to educate the daughters who will essentially marry into a life of drudgery?

Still searching for a way to answer our question of fairness, the young woman of Jumla, sitting wearily before me, looked quizzically at our translator.

Our translator said: “She’s asking what ‘fair’ means.”

How do you find another way to ask this question? For us, the educated women of the industrialized nation, who stand on the shoulders of our sisters who have fought for our equality, we cannot un-know this history. We are as puzzled by the idea of not conceiving of equality, as the young woman of Jumla, who knits her eyebrows, trying to comprehend the concept. Moreover, what good will it do her to try to answer this question. For even if her life was unfair, what could she do to change it?

We spent time on and off over the next three years, embedded in the same village, observing many similar stories and capturing the immense spirit and strength of the women in this remote place in the foothills of the Himalaya. In the beginning, some women were too shy to even consider talking to us, but often, many women who had never been asked their opinion, began to express themselves in front of the camera, and we saw a subtle shift.

I had often questioned our presence as two women filmmakers, and the impact we may be having. Certainly, both being about six feet tall, we were often a source of local entertainment as we constantly hit our heads on low ceilings and doors and crammed ourselves into small corners of smokey kitchens to film. Though loaded with irony for my own personal reasons, being lovingly referred to by the locals as the “cameraman,” I enjoyed the moniker that to them, represented professionalism.

Over time, we recorded the myriad voices of women here, especially in their song. Women sang in the fields as they worked together, their strains echoing uphill as they disappeared with their baskets to collect wood. They sang in their kitchens in the evening after the days work was done and they sang together while they pounded corn. They sang for us and asked us to share our songs. My co-director and I tried to figure out if there was another song aside from “Happy Birthday” that we both knew the words to.

Women who had never been asked to air their opinions were sometimes surprised by their own voices. Often uneducated, they hadn’t had the opportunity to create the thought patterns which allowed them to form their own judgements and ideas, or create a view of themselves in the world. One woman told us that she didn’t feel that she could take a free class being offered by a local charity because she didn’t think she was capable of learning.

One of the most poignant memories I have was at the end of an interview we did with a man who was running a tea shop and inn with his wife and children. As I was packing away the camera he came to us and said that he would reconsider the education of his own daughters. He said that watching us operate “technical things” made him appreciate that perhaps his daughters had more potential than he had realized. He now understood and believed that women could do things like that and he wanted his daughters to have this opportunity.

Women will still have to find their voices, but within this complex and embedded societal structure, men will need to stand alongside them too and this requires better education for all and a deep shift in thinking.

Our film, Daughters of the Curved Moon, will be coming out in the next year and I am looking forward to sharing the inspiring story of these communities with a wider audience. I am also finishing up another documentary I shot on the roof of the world called Talking to the Air, which I am crowd-funding at Seed&Spark. My ability to articulate my voice as a filmmaker comes from the determination of so many others before me. In turn, I wish to use this channel to tell authentic stories of humankind that promote a sense of wonder in us all, and to share the voices of those that are still struggling to find their forum. After working in the high Himalaya, I am now also determined to learn some new songs.

Sophie Dia Pegrum is a director and cinematographer who has produced and shot films in the Antarctic, at the North Pole and in the Himalayas including 77 Below and Daughters of the Curved Moon. Sophie co-owns Horsefly Films and the Rare Equine Trust and produces docs about rare horses and fragile horse cultures worldwide. She is currently finishing a film she shot on the Tibetan border titled Talking to the Air: The Horses of the Last Forbidden Kingdom.

Seed & Spark: The Revolution Will Be Streamed: Why Underrepresented Communities Need to Find, Fund, and Forge the Streaming Media Landscape

The statistics are startling, but the silver lining is promising: The conditions that brought women to the forefront in early film now exist in streaming media. Now is the time for marginalized communities to claim their most significant share yet of the media landscape by finding and funding streaming projects and investing in/forming streaming media companies.

This is a guest post by Kathleen Wallace.

Being a woman in and around the entertainment industry can feel like being in an unhealthy relationship: They’re just not that into us.

It wasn’t always this way. According to Dr. Jane Gaines, a film professor at Columbia University and one of the editors of the Women Film Pioneers Project, women in the film industry in America between 1916 and 1923 were more powerful than in any other business. In fact, in 1923, the number of women-owned production companies outnumbered those owned by men.

AliceGuyBlache — Alice Guy Blache, filmmaking pioneer, film studio owner, director of over 1,000 movies including some with interracial casts.

LoisWeber_BehindCamera — Lois Weber, silent film actress, screenwriter, director, producer, bane of censors; founded her own movie studio in 1917.

Fast forward 90 years to 2013, and only 23 percent of producers and a stunningly mere 7 percent of film directors are women (Geena Davis Institute on Gender In Media).

Sobering statistics about women in film.

When the moving image was uncharted territory, roles were less defined, which left greater room for minorities to take on more responsibility and to have more of a voice. According to Dr. Gaines, to meet the “booming demand” for fiction films between 1895 and 1925, “Women were given many, many more chances to direct and produce.”

The better part of a century later, streaming media outlets present an unprecedented demand for content. For example, in 2013, the average time spent on digital surpassed the time spent watching television. Soon mobile viewing will surpass digital viewing. Also unprecedented is the access content creators have to distribution via streaming media. And thanks to the advent of crowd-funding, the financial barrier to filmmaking is lowered and audiences have greater access to filmmakers and therefore greater say in what media is produced. What a time to be both a filmmaker and an audience member!

Digital has overtaken TV and mobile on on track to overtake digital.

History teaches us, though, that this golden time will not last. In the 1920s and 1930s, as the film industry matured and companies figured out how to monetize films, underrepresented communities were squeezed out. Streaming is still, just as film was a century ago, the new frontier of media, but the “Streaming-TV Gold Rush,” as deemed by New York Magazine, is on: HBO announced recently that it will offer a streaming-only service. Lionsgate and Tribeca Enterprises (which runs the Tribeca Film Festival) announced the creation of a subscription VOD service. And it’s been over a year since Jason Kilar, ex-Hulu CEO, and Richard Tom, ex-Hulu CTO, announced the creation of their company, Vessel, a premium streaming platform specifically for short-form video content.

Deep pockets are searching for ways to make money in digital media. And the money is there to be found; earlier this year, digital ad revenues surpassed television ad revenue. The question is, when the big companies do find the money, what will happen to the level of diversity we enjoy in streaming media now?

This is not to say that studio executives are maliciously excluding underrepresented groups. Studio executives just aren’t that into us, so they don’t see as great a need to represent us. As Justin Simien, the director of the movie Dear White People (which incidentally was crowd-funded), said in a recent NPR interview, “It’s taken as given that a white cast represents everyone.” Organizations like the Geena Davis Institute on Gender in Media are drawing strong attention to the issue, but the statistics on equal representation are still depressing.

With streaming media, we don’t have to see ourselves through someone else’s lens anymore. And if we take the reins of streaming media now while the gold rush is on, we can help ensure that it stays that way.

Here are three steps to take those reins:

First, find streaming content that speaks to you. There is seemingly limitless content on the big platforms like YouTube and Vimeo. There are also smaller companies like Seed&Spark, which cater to independent filmmakers. This company definitely harkens back to the early days of film: Seed&Spark is a female-lead company helps filmmakers fundraise as well as distribute their films, and 58 percent of the projects crowd-funding in their studio have women in prominent positions. (Full disclosure: I am currently crowd-funding my own web series through Seed&Spark. It’s called Settling Up.)

Second, when you find a project you like, support it. Throw money behind it. It doesn’t have to be a lot; truly every bit helps. Then spread the word. A Facebook post or tweet to your followers helps raise the project’s profile. Large numbers of both donors and followers signal to the streaming studios to come – like Vessel – that there is an underrepresented audience out there craving more content tailored to them.

Supporting projects also helps you build a relationship with your favorite streaming filmmakers, which helps ensure their projects’ longevity, since funding for streaming is still largely grassroots-based. “Relationships have made the most successful web series what they are today,” says Amy Kersten, an independent streaming producer whose work centers on women and women’s issues. When you subscribe to a series, when you post about an indie VOD film, when you comment on a video, you are creating dialogue between yourself and the filmmaker which helps ensure content is of the people. (Again, full disclosure, Amy is producing and co-directing my web series.)

Third, make streaming media yourself or get involved in a streaming media company. If this last one is for you – and it may not be – I strongly urge you to go for it. Underserved communities need more representation behind the camera as well as behind the studio desk. My web series, Settling Up, is the first streaming media I’ve created, and I’ve learned tons along the way – made plenty of mistakes, too. But at the end of the day, I’m telling stories that have gone untold for too long, and I’m very proud that our female to male ratio on the crew ranges between 2:2 and 4:1.

It’s media for women, by women. And I’m definitely into that. Long may it last!

__________________________________________

Kathleen Wallace is a NYC-based writer-producer-actor. Her web series, Settling Up, premieres in early 2015. She works with Amios Theater Company and Barefoot Theater Company, teaches fitness and public speaking, and is founder and Chief Cape Advocate of Be A Superhero Day, a day of public service. Kathleen holds degrees from Yale and the National Theater Conservatory and certificates from multiple schools in Germany. This winter she appears as Amanda in Private Lives at the Walnut Street Theater in Philadelphia.

Seed & Spark: ‘Actress’ and the Messiness of the Moving Image

In the film I follow Brandy’s unfolding drama as-it-happened, hanging the film on her trained actor expressions and captivating ability to theatrically display fragility, anger, and force of will. The film is a documentary in the sincerest way; Brandy’s performance is the truth I was observing. ‘Actress’ is about the roles we play and how we get trapped in them; the role the viewer sees Brandy wrestle with most vigorously might be the role of documentary subject.

This is a guest post by Robert Greene and Brandy Burre.

From Director Robert Greene:

How does a man make a movie about a woman who is going through a crisis in her life that he, despite being the same age (with the same ambitions, the same number of children that are the same age in the same town), will never have to deal with because he’s a man? That’s what I’ve tried to do with my new nonfiction film Actress, which stars my neighbor and friend Brandy Burre as she tries to balance motherhood and artistic dreams in the face of a suddenly tumultuous domestic situation. The answer in this case: you wind up the toy and hold on tight.

Brandy got pregnant when she was filming her final appearances on HBO’s legendary show The Wire, in which she played political consultant/vixen Theresa D’Agostino. Her life didn’t immediately settle (at one point she was doing a theater run far away from Tim, the baby’s father), but she eventually moved to Beacon, New York to raise a growing family. I moved next door to her a few weeks after she came to Beacon. Five years later we began filming what would become the movie. Its original title was Mother As Actress.

In the film I follow Brandy’s unfolding drama as-it-happened, hanging the film on her trained actor expressions and captivating ability to theatrically display fragility, anger, and force of will. The film is a documentary in the sincerest way; Brandy’s performance is the truth I was observing. Actress is about the roles we play and how we get trapped in them; the role the viewer sees Brandy wrestle with most vigorously might be the role of documentary subject.

The project started from the formal question, “What happens when you film an actor in an observational documentary?” before the story took us in unexpected places. I also know that women, especially mothers in their later 30s, are harshly under-represented in movies. In general, too, I begin from the point of view that documentaries are inherently exploitative, that a power exchange is created when one person films another, not to mention when a man films a woman. This may be especially true when that man is exploring genres such as melodrama, which have traditionally been called “women’s films.”

The best way to short circuit the potential calamity of this exchange is to foreground the exploitation, to make it part of what the viewer is watching while they follow the story. The way a man can make a documentary about a woman in this situation, then, is to dive deep into the contradictions of the nonfiction form and display the mess onscreen. Documentaries are made of the tension between order and chaos, between directing and living. Letting these tensions show (and allowing space for the viewer to think about these tensions, including questions of gender and exploitation) cedes some of the power of the image to the person in front of the camera.

That person in this case is Brandy, a complex, theatrical, mercurial force of nature. It was not always easy to “cede power” of my film to this magnificent creature, and I wasn’t about to do it just because she was a woman. She was hesitantly stepping forward, too, though I wouldn’t have been able to tell; by the time she said yes I had already become somewhat obsessed with the possibilities of filming her and how my ideas would mingle with what I could never have predicted. What happened, of course, was that Brandy’s force, her power, her fragility, her ability to make every scene crackle was the film I wanted to make. Soon my ideas were dwarfed by this bright star and it was now our film, though it obviously never could have remained just mine.

This film was very hard to make, but ultimately I think we’ve arrived at something productive and meaningful. I think Brandy agrees, but let’s see what she thinks in her own words.

From Subject/Star Brandy Burre:

Indeed being the subject of a documentary, actor or no, is a dicey proposition. When Robert first introduced the idea that he “follow my journey of getting back into acting,” I declined. The problem as I saw it: I’ve never had the desire to trudge into the business of acting as it formally exists. End of story.

The fact that Robert couldn’t, in many ways, understand my views as a woman and mother further distanced me from the idea. The assumption I inferred in Robert’s scheme was that I had lost my way as an actor and was in need of finding it, that my life without acting was lacking in some way and needed to be rectified, as if my career had been on a clear path, I had been derailed by having children, and I simply needed to hop back on the train and resume my efforts where I had left off.

Clearly he didn’t understand my rogue path to landing the role on The Wire. Nor did he understand the extent of my other work as a theater artist and musician. How could he know I had made definitive choices, defying the one size fits all rigmarole allotted to aspiring artists in America (those without lineage or trust funds, that is)? I had no desire to prop up a false perception of a typical actor’s life, or worse, come across as a failure or desperate in some way.

But then there is Robert, a persistent hornet of a person. Taking a different approach with me, he threw down the gauntlet: we just start filming. We turn on the camera and see where it leads, even if that destination is nowhere. We film for the sake of filming, make art for art’s sake, he the filmmaker and I, the muse to his musings. Hmm… Now this got my mind a-churning.

How could I say no to this exercise? What is it to play the role of one’s self? What actions define me as an individual, and what are the boundaries of my existence that I’m forced to question when confronted with a camera lens as witness?

I was sufficiently stung by Robert’s passion and commitment to the potential of this project. If he accepted me with all my contradiction and parody, force and feebleness, without need for outcome, who was I to deny him? From this moment on, Robert found in me his willing cohort, conspirator, and collaborator. And once I commit to a project, I invest my entire soul to it.

I am endlessly proud of Actress and the bravery it took to make this film. The bravery to be as truthful and raw as I knew how to be. Robert met me as a fellow artist without definition of gender, and this was his greatest gift to me and to women in general. The fact that Actress might be considered a “woman’s film” is because my story was truthfully told within the context of itself, not with a male-dominated agenda. And in case it needs clarifying, the context of me is ALL woman.

Actress is currently building an audience and raising funds for music rights on Seed&Spark.com.

Brandy Burre is an American actress best known for her portrayal of Theresa D’Agostino on the HBO Series The Wire. Currently, she is the subject of Actress, the critically acclaimed documentary from Robert Greene. Other recent credits include Alex Ross Perry’s Listen Up Philip and Phil Pinto’s “Diplo Revolution” music video. Also a musician and mother of two, Brandy has performed many great roles on professional stages across the country. She has an MFA in Acting from Ohio University.

Robert Greene is a filmmaker and writer. He was named one of the 10 Filmmakers to Watch in 2014 by The Independent and received the 2014 Vanguard Artist Award from the San Francisco DocFest. Robert’s films include Actress (2014), Fake It So Real (2012) and Kati With An I (2010). He has edited over a dozen films, including Alex Ross Perry’s Listen Up Philip and Amanda Rose Wilder’s Approaching the Elephant. Robert writes for Sight & Sound and other outlets.

Seed & Spark: Perspective

As the writer, my voice defines each character. Just as male writers paint masculine (or, worse, stereotypical) versions of the female characters they create, my characters each have a decidedly feminine spin. These are not gun-toting, one-dimensional he-men, but rather strong, masculine, flawed characters with quirks and cracks in their armor. They have no need for the mask of locker-room grandstanding. And a woman is telling their story. Unlike other dark comedies/psychological thrillers, this is a character-based story told from a female perspective.

OWEN BY THE LAKE: Brazilian Wood's Owen Bryant portrayed by Bill Wetherill — OWEN BY THE LAKE: Brazilian Wood’s Owen Bryant portrayed by Bill Wetherill

This is a guest post by Kristin LaVanway.

Much has been debated about the limited role that women play in film. Many believe that women’s voices are fewer than their male counterparts because of the limited number of strong female roles that are offered.

I was recently invited to participate in a panel discussion entitled “Leading Ladies are People Too.” This title described several topics related to expanding women’s roles in front of and behind the camera. The initial focus was on creating rich, well-developed roles for women, the lack of which is a large concern for many, given Hollywood’s often shallow female representations.

But as the discussion continued, I suddenly felt pangs of guilt, the need to apologize—an overwhelming dread that I had sold out my sisterhood.

You see, I am making a decidedly male-centered feature film called Brazilian Wood.

All but one of the main characters is a dude. In my defense, the lone woman in the pack is an awesome bad guy. She is a murderous, conniving, delicious, determined woman who knows what she wants. Surely that counts for something in the broad landscape of feminism?

I began assessing my mostly masculine cast to identify possible ways to support the sisterhood and bring a larger X-chromosome component into the fold. Happily, I began to realize that those components already existed. Not in the most obvious way —the gender of the characters— but in the manner in which the characters have been developed and in the way their story would be told: by a woman.

These Leading Ladies are the "People Too" Panel at the 2014 Jerome Indie Film & Music Festival — These Leading Ladies are the “People Too” Panel at the 2014 Jerome Indie Film & Music Festival

As a director, I can draw out this untold story. The actors portraying these characters know the back-story. They know the emotional arc these characters will be riding. They are ready to let their emotions show through the cracks, just as strong women do among their trusted friends. In this way, we can explore the motivations that drive them. We will bring more layers, more depth, and at some level, more estrogen to the audience.

As the editor, I have perhaps the strongest voice of all. I can piece together this multi-layered collection of story, emotion, murder, and mayhem, focusing not on the big splashy action sequences, but on the quiet moments, the nuanced expressions —the “girly” stuff. As the last leg in the storytelling journey, editing has a tremendous impact on the final version of the film. It can completely change the tone, message, and even the plot. That this phase is in my control can have an enormous impact in the portrayal of the characters, bringing a richness to a story that is so often told by simply counting the dead bodies and bowing to the last man standing. Bringing that depth into the frame tells the story from a new perspective.

I don’t view myself as a feminist filmmaker. I am a chick telling stories. I’m telling the stories I want to tell, from my perspective as a woman. I love an intriguing plot with twists and turns, interesting and relatable characters, and yes, even the obligatory happy ending. Whether the characters are male or female, a great story told by talented actors within a well-produced film is much more interesting to me than a film that takes a stand. As an independent filmmaker, my story can be told my way. And the voice behind the camera, my voice, despite the volume of testosterone in front of the camera, is decidedly feminine. No need to apologize for that.

Originally from the beaches of Southern California, Kristin LaVanway is a writer and director living in Mesa, AZ . She has produced numerous short films, including the award-winning comedy, “Reply Hazy,” “Try Again” and the award-winning drama, Condundrum. In 2014, she joined forces with actor/filmmaker Bill Wetherill to form Resonant Films. She is currently in crowdfunding mode for Resonant Film’s first feature, Brazilian Wood on Seed & Spark. She is also working with the AZ Audubon Society to develop a multiple film compilation called “Arizona River Stories.” Kristin is @Rl8rGal on Twitter.

Seed & Spark: Finding the Female Voice

When I contemplate women in film, two thoughts come to mind: women in front of the camera, and women behind the camera. We are all familiar with the stereotypical female characters in movies and TV shows that portray traditional, predictable roles. There’s nothing wrong with that, I suppose, but it isn’t teaching us anything new about what it’s like to actually be a woman. When I fell in love with independent film in the early 2000s, it was for one reason: I had never experienced anything as risky or as honest as filmmaking without rules or boundaries. This was especially true in terms of exploration of female characters. It was refreshing, enlightening and, eventually, life changing.

This is a guest post by Jen West.

One of my favorite films of 2013 was Blue is the Warmest Color. It’s an outstanding example of including high-impact female characters. I stumbled into it one rainy afternoon in Atlanta, flying solo on a weeknight. I grabbed my bag of popcorn and took a seat in the nearly empty theater. I was originally intrigued by the trailer I had seen and the artwork of the mysterious girl with the bright blue hair. I soon saw that there was something different happening between these characters that I had never experienced before— a depiction of a true lesbian love affair on screen. I was sucked into the world of Adèle, a 15-year-old girl exploring love and sexuality for the first time. I know some would argue that the characters were a little too pretty, making the film feel a little like soft porn at times, but I found it to be intimate and intense. It wasn’t afraid to take us in the bedroom and expose the passion that existed between the two girls. Isn’t sexuality a part of all of our lives, whether in abundance or lack thereof? We shouldn’t be afraid to explore that. It was a brave film and the actresses held nothing back for those parts. That’s what independent film is all about— taking risks and pulling out raw emotions in the viewer. I liked that it made me feel vulnerable. I loved that snot dripped out of Adèle’s nose every time she cried. It was female authenticity. I want more of that.

Another recent stand-out performance for me was from Brie Larson in Short Term 12. This is a great example of not shying away from the ugly parts of life. Her character, Grace, deals with past sexual abuse as a life-changing event and she continues to deal with it while working at a adolescent treatment facility. She shows us the face of an abuse survivor, which isn’t always pretty. Everyone has demons that chase them down eventually. Each person’s coping process is unique. Grace is a beautifully broken and complex character who will go down as one of my favorites of all time. If you haven’t seen it, then you are missing a pivotal film in the indie universe.

I want the ugly. Give me the behind-closed-doors intimate moments that really mean something to my own struggles. I don’t care about surface appearances and the masks that each of us wear every day in order to fit in. The true self lies far beyond that. It’s a scary, but unifying experience to be let into another’s intimate universe. Film is a great medium to explore this concept, especially with female characters.

Nothing turns me on more than a powerful female performance, whether it be the actors on screen or the writers and directors behind the camera. As I’ve traveled the film festival circuit with short films of my own, I’ve always kept an eye out for my peers. Through this self-initiated challenge I’ve found the likes of Josephine Decker, Eliza Hittman, and Leah Meyerhoff. You should become familiar with these women. When you aren’t paid yet for your craft, when each film comes from your soul—that’s how you know someone is a real artist. It’s hard, sometimes even nearly impossible, but you do it anyway. There is absolutely no shame in wanting to be paid for your work, however there is something to be said for pursuing your passion just because it’s a part of your being. That’s the kind of filmmaker I strive to be.

For all of you female filmmakers out there— let’s keep creating characters that reveal something important about our humanity. It doesn’t matter if it’s done through humor or drama. For those of you who are film fanatics, or just the occasional theater dweller, I challenge you to discover more independent female-focused content and filmmakers. It’s easy to turn on Netflix and watch what’s on top of your recommended viewing list. Instead, why not dive into something different (but equally convenient) like Seed & Spark, or just dig a little deeper into your preferred medium for that independent film you’ve never heard of. Better yet, attend your local film festival and see what’s surfacing beyond the TV and movie theater. I guarantee that you’ll discover amazing female-focused content once you start searching.

Born and raised in Birmingham, Alabama, Jen West is a writer and director living in Atlanta, Georgia. She is known for Piece of Cake (2006), Crush (2011), Bubble (2013) and “Call Me” (2014 – music video for St. Paul and the Broken Bones). She wrote her feature script, Electric Bleau, as part of a creative residency with the Cucalorus Film Festival in 2014. Currently she is in preproduction for her next short, Little Cabbage and is crowdfunding on Seed & Spark.

Seed & Spark: Inviting Global Celebration of Films #DirectedbyWomen

We are living in an age where there is an explosion of films #DirectedbyWomen. That’s cause for celebration, but an enormous number of women filmmakers are working below the radar or on the fringes of awareness in the global film community. The result? Many film lovers are being left in the dark. They’re missing out on a rich vein of film treasures. Let’s draw films #DirectedbyWomen up into the light, so we can explore and appreciate them. Let’s help the world fall madly in love with and wildly celebrate women filmmakers and their films.

This is a guest post by Barbara Ann O’Leary.

Go ahead… fall in love! No need to wait. Any moment is a perfect moment to relish films #DirectedbyWomen, but we want to concentrate that love by bringing the global film community together for a powerful 15-day worldwide film viewing party next year: September 1-15, 2015. During this intense and exuberant celebration, film lovers will gather together in their communities around the world for film screenings, guest filmmaker visits and other celebrations, focusing attention on and offering appreciation for women filmmakers and their work.

We want to be sure to give everyone plenty of time to plan, so we’re launching this initiative with over a year to prepare. Film lovers/makers – women and men – everywhere are invited to create #DirectedbyWomen film viewing parties in every corner of the world.

There’s so much beautiful work unfolding and so much more ready and eager to burst forth. Let’s embrace films ‪#‎DirectedbyWomen with open arms. Let’s stand ready to receive them. Let’s say YES to the films women are creating. Let’s say “I WANT TO SEE FILMS #DIRECTEDBYWOMEN!” Let’s bring the films into our lives… into our communities… proactively. Let’s watch the films with attention and appreciation. Let’s share our responses to these films with the makers and with each other passionately. Let’s say “THANK YOU!” to the makers. Let’s say, “MORE please!” Let’s open greater opportunities for women filmmakers to create and share their work through the power of celebration and appreciation. Let’s step up to repeat this process.

I think it’s time for a worldwide film viewing party. I’m sending out this invitation to you and to every film lover on the planet. Everyone’s invited to co-create a global celebration next year. The only thing required in order for us each to gather with friends next year in September to watch films ‪#‎DirectedbyWomen is our intention to do so, BUT if we want to be able to create a celebration that raises awareness about women filmmakers and their work on a global scale, we need resources to reach as many people as possible, extend invitations, brainstorm event celebration ideas, share information about films #DirectedbyWomen and how to arrange screening rights, coordinate event and venue information, create podcasts, generate Wayfinder Tributes to honor the individuals and groups who pour their energy into supporting women filmmakers, and other actions that will help the celebration flourish everywhere.

We’re thrilled to be offering our crowdfunding campaign on Seed & Spark. Their invitation to include this project on their Independent Film Championing platform signals that major perceptual shifts within the film community are happening now and will continue to unfold rapidly as more filmmakers and film lovers stop up to embrace films #DirectedbyWomen. Seed & Spark’s innovative approach to crowdfunding, which includes opportunities for supporters to back financially or to provide in kind contributions, makes it a tremendous place to build community and come together to bring this global celebration into being.

It’s exciting to be part of this adventure into deep appreciation and wild celebration of films #DirectedbyWomen. Let’s celebrate!

Barbara Ann O’Leary, Indiana University Cinema’s Outreach Specialist, loves to help people engage authentically. Recent projects include: #DirectedbyWomen, a worldwide film viewing part; Every Everything: The Music, Life & Times of Grant Hart (Executive Producer); Indy Film Festival (World Cinema Jury [2014] & Screening Committee [2013]); Indiana Filmmakers Network Made in Bloomington Film Series (Programmer); Bloomington Screenwriting Community (Founder/Facilitator). She’s available to work one to one with people who would like support in making the perceptual shifts that will align them more deeply with their authentic creative core.

Seed & Spark: Hollywood’s Leading Ladies: To Be a Mom or Not to Be; What Role Will You Choose?

For a very long time, women who didn’t want to have children were deemed “selfish,” because — well, I’m not quite sure why. Men, however, although maybe a disappointment to their mothers, weren’t really labeled anything. They were bachelors, at worst.

In many movies, the struggle that men have is not a result of a decision involving kids. But in most romcoms and dramas, if there is a female role of a certain age, it centers upon the subject of children.

I wanted to look at three current movies and their depiction of parents, particularly how their children influence their decision making and where the children fit into their lives.

I chose to examine three movies where the lead was nominated for Best Lead Actress in 2014 and in a fertile age range, which led to the movies ‘Blue Jasmine,’ ‘American Hustle’ and ‘Gravity.’

This is a guest post by Kelsey Rauber.

I wanted to look at three current movies and their depiction of parents, particularly how their children influence their decision making and where the children fit into their lives.

I chose to examine three movies where the lead was nominated for Best Lead Actress in 2014 and in a fertile age range, which led to the movies Blue Jasmine, American Hustle, and Gravity.

As I told a friend about the idea of this article, she immediately interjected: “But it’s not just film! It’s across the board!” She proceeded to name at least four of her very good female friends, whose husbands travel a lot, while they hold a full time job as are the primary person responsible for the child’s well-being. Is this still justified in a world where nearly two-thirds of women are the primary breadwinner of the household?

(May contain some spoilers.)

Blue Jasmine by Woody Allen

Jasmine, recently widowed, with no kids of her own but a stepson that no longer speaks to her, makes a good case for child-free living. Her husband cheated on her and embezzled lots of money. To top it all off, her mental health is questionable.

Blue Jasmine, as a movie, feels like a possible realistic take on women–who they can be, how they can fail and the choices that they make. Jasmine, obviously blinded by wealth, doesn’t quite understand what it means to care about other people.

On the other hand, we have Jasmine’s sister, Ginger, who is probably the truest depiction of an underpaid, divorced woman that I have seen in a movie in a long time. The supporting role is her role in life.

She works hard (in a grocery store), doesn’t get out often (hasn’t been to a party in years), and looks for love in all the wrong places because she was never made to believe that she is worthy.

She and her ex-husband share custody of their two boys, but the boys live with their mother. The one thing I find most fascinating about her: She doesn’t complain. She has her life and she lives it. She isn’t unhappy. As far as she’s concerned, she is doing her best and it is good enough.

None of the men that either Jasmine or Ginger date throughout the movie comment on having kids.

American Hustle by Eric Warren Singer and David O. Russell

Though I wasn’t a huge fan of this movie as a whole, it is interesting in its different take on the paternal role. Here, it is actually the protagonist, Irving Rosenfeld, who makes a sacrifice for his adopted son. When an FBI agent busts Irving and his partner in crime/mistress, Sydney, she proposes they pack and leave the country. Irving isn’t willing to do it, because he feels a strong sense of responsibility toward his son.

Irving’s wife, Rosalyn, is depicted as a pretty terrible mother. She constantly blows things up seemingly out of sheer boredom. She’s also portrayed as an alcoholic, which fuels her inability to take care of her child (which is her full-time job).

What is interesting here is that the viewer walks away with a feeling that Irving is a good dad. I’m not saying he is a bad father, he clearly cares about his son, but the information that we don’t get in the film is how long he disappears for when he is with his mistress— he manages to have a whole other life with Sydney. I can’t help but feel that this movie sets the viewer up to feel a certain way toward the father/son relationship, even though we really only know part of the story.

If they decided to make a sequel to this movie about the boy, I think we’d see that there is no hope for this kid; his male role models are his adoptive father, a crook, and his mom’s new boyfriend, who works for the mafia.

Gravity by Alfonso Cuarón and Jonás Cuarón

Gravity is easiest to discuss given its confinement to two main characters. The viewer is left alone with two strangers for more than two hours, so inevitably things get personal.

Ryan Stone, a medical engineer, specialized in hospital scanning systems and is on her first mission in space. She gets stranded with Matt Kowalski, who is on his final mission, about to retire.

Very early in the movie, Ryan opens up about her deceased daughter: “She was playing tag—she slipped, hit her head, and that was it.”

This revelation sheds some light on Ryan’s passivity. Any loss of this magnitude would change a person’s perspective on life. The viewer is left to wonder, who was Ryan before the loss of her daughter? Was she fun and optimistic? Was she absent a lot because of her job? Would she be in space right now if her daughter was still alive?

Matt, like most Clooney characters, is a recently divorced, childless, charismatic individual. He doesn’t open up about why he doesn’t have kids. The question is never posed.

I can’t help but wonder, if Matt would’ve been replaced by a female character, would the fun, charismatic individual, who knows the ins and outs of space, not fight a bit harder to save both their lives, rather than sacrificing her own life for a woman who doesn’t give anyone the impression there’s much to live for?

I’m usually fan of movies that defy stereotype. (Un)fortunately, it still seems like a niche quality, mostly found in Indie films.

All of these movies were written by men and some depict women better than others. Generally, women are given great jobs, great flaws, and a human touch, which is great since… you know, we are human.

What does it mean to not have children, or not want them as a woman? Where can we get answers to these questions? My first response would be: Not Hollywood.

My interest in this topic erupted from my recent diagnosis with PCOS, which is one of the leading causes of infertility in women. I’m also gay, so the thought of having children had already been slightly complicated.

I don’t know if I want kids. I do know that I’d like the option.

After consulting with family and friends, I took an interest in the portrayal of parenthood, as well as the absence of normalcy surrounding not being a parent for women in Hollywood movies, which led to this article as well as the short we are crowdfunding for, titled We Had Plans.

The production company I work with, CongestedCat Productions, drives content with a less generic, more realistic take on individuals whom are usually forced into a box based on gender, sexuality, race, etc. We portray people as people and expect our audience to look at them that way and relate to them on an emotional level. We don’t do caricatures or stereotypes. If this is something you can get behind, we are making films you’ll want to see.

Kelsey Rauber is a New York City-based screenwriter and an integral member of CongestedCat Productions. She was named Grand Prize Winner in the comedy division for her feature About a Donkey by the 2012 New York Screenplay Contest. That same screenplay was also a semi-finalist in the 2013 LA Comedy Shorts Festival. She is the writer and co-creator of the comedic web series Kelsey, which premiered on blip.tv in September 2013 to rave reviews and consistent press coverage, being named a Critic’s Pick and one of the best comedy web series of 2013 by Indiewire. She is currently crowdfunding on Seed&Spark for her next projects.

Seed & Spark: My Heroes Have Always Been Cowgirls

Female characters are often filler, like the cartilage that goes into hot dogs, with no real meat on their bones. They stand in the doorway, boxed in the jam, never truly inhabiting the whole room. Why? Why are female characters relegated to the margin? Maybe because studios believe men go to the movies more than women. Maybe because the industry spends time and money making action figures and toy guns for boys, whose mothers are trying to teach them that violence is always unacceptable, especially toward women. We have got to stop feeding this system.

This is a guest post by Tracy Nichole Cring.

Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables), Jordan O’Neill (G.I. Jane), Ellen Ripley (Alien), Marie von Trapp (Sound of Music), Jo March (Little Women), Zula (Conan the Destroyer). These women are my role models.

I want to be Diane Court (Say Anything), popular because she’s smart, Sally Albright (When Harry Met Sally) a funny friend and cohort, Andie Walsh (Pretty in Pink), a girl who has the guts to go it alone in a homemade dress. Growing up, I specifically patterned aspects of my personality, humor, and gumption on the females I saw in film. Thankfully, I had a mother who introduced me to them and wanted me to be inspired and moved. Without these amazing works, I absolutely would not be the woman I am today. And this is exactly what concerns me when I look at the marquee at the CinemaPlex: Why are women so underrepresented? How will future generations gain inspiration? The Hunger Games is a good film, but it’s violent and not terribly deep or inspiring. The recent string of white-washed young adult tween books turned film are just not very soulful. Everyone is lapping it up, but I say this milk is sour!

That being said, I did go to the theater to see Godzilla. I love my popcorn blockbusters. But riddle me this: Why would Juliette Binoche be in less than ten minutes of the film? Why were there no other female characters introduced? The studios might think that a bunch of girls aren’t going to watch Godzilla anyway—who cares if we kill the best actor in the film before the opening credits are finished? But I call a foul on the play.

But it is possible to have a complex and fascinating female character. Look at the amazing Robin Wright, for example. Early in her womanhood, Robin was cast as the static ethereal beauty. Because of this typecasting, as she moved into her 30s, she was lucky to have the small parts in big movies—lucky to be a distracted mom or a doting wife with a few lines. In her 40s, she shared the spotlight with Naomi Watts in Adore, showing off her complexity AND looking amazing. Then, House of Cards came along and Robin was catapulted into the meaty role of the modern Lady Macbeth. As the series continues, she only grows more and more complex; she’s Gordan Gecko, she’s smart, powerful, and when she makes mistakes, she owns up to them. She plots her success and navigates toward it. She truly is a fully rounded and realized human being.

Given the enormous success of House of Cards, why are these central, complex female characters so few and far between? And why does this discrepancy extend behind the scenes too? The disproportionate number of male “leads” is in every facet of this business. What are the causes?

Men. They just don’t get it. As writers, the only women many seem to write are mirrors of their own disconnected wives or the bimbo they want to bed. But this is not to say that a man does not have the ability to write a female character. It’s pretty easy—change some of the male characters to females. The sexes are not dissimilar in what drives them and how they react. Remember that Sigourney Weaver’s famous role as Ripley in Alien was originally written as a man. When they changed it, it brought a new dynamic to the role, which kick-started a franchise.
Women. We just can’t seem to get out of our own way. As long as we insist that “lifetime” storytelling belongs in major or indie films, we will never be taken seriously in this business. The term “chick flick” is a very dangerous one, pigeonholing female artists into unrewarding genres. This problem becomes evident when a director like Kathryn Bigelow confounds conventions about the kind of films she wants to make—movies that have no concern for appealing to a general sex but, instead, are grand spectacle and intimate storytelling. Near Dark, Point Break, and Strange Days all have gender equality and high-octane entertainment. But who is the female equivalent of Gilliam, Lynch, Cronenberg, or Kubrick? Every one of those artists was an outsider who scraped for every project he ever did. Where are our risk takers? We have to go find them and support with ticket and DVD purchases.
Children. They are a cinematic problem for everyone. A family seeing a film together is at least three tickets as opposed to the individual with one. So when math influences art, you see that art diluted so as to not offend the sensibilities of anyone under 18. This thinking is responsible for a huge majority of forgettable entertainment in the last twenty five years. The fact that Baby Geniuses even exists proves my point. Let Disney and Pixar fight out the family market. Of AFIs top 100 films of all time, how many of them would appeal to a seven-year-old? Let children have their entertainment, but films that appeal exclusively to adults are important. Though there are great movies rated G and those rated NC-17, the story should dictate the rating, not the box office.

So, to put it simply: To solve this problem a variety of people need to take action. Men, diversify your characters outside of the people who look and sound just like you. Women, support sophisticated entertainment and don’t reward inequality with your ticket money. Children, don’t torture the babysitter so Mom and Dad can go see a film that reflects what they are going through.

Now make your opinion known and support the films you want to see more of.

Tracy Nichole Cring grew up in a small town in Tennessee. Surrounded by industrious and self-taught artisans, she was inspired to follow her own path and fell in love with film. By 17 she had taught herself to use cameras, edit, and she won her first film festival (Los Angeles Film Fest 1997) for which she received the grand prize of the latest, new filmmaking gear.

After moving to Nashville (200?) she met Jon Russell Cring and put to use her festival winnings co-writing, shooting, and editing a TV series together.

“The ExtraOrdinary Film Project” was born – an attempt to make 12 feature films in 12 months. Though it took 20 months to complete all 12 features, shot on such locations as Bugscuffle, Tenn., Phoenix, Ariz., San Fransisco, Calif., and Flint, Mich., Tracy was cinematographer for all 12 films. In addition, she also co-directed Budd (film no. 12), appearing in the Route 66 Film Festival, Southern Appalachian Film Festival, and Memphis Film Festival in 2008.

Tracy then moved to Albany, New York with the aim of slowing the production pace and taking time to study and hone her craft. Her last three films, And See All the People, Creeping Crawling, and Little Bi Peep, currently touring the film festival circuit, have been winning awards ( New Orleans fest, Atlanta Horror, Atlantic City Cinefest (four awards) and have distribution offers.

A natural at writing unique scenes that speak to her audience, Tracy has also taken on writing feature screenplays with partner Jon Russell Cring to great success, having optioned many to other producers.

Tracy serves on the board of Upstate Women in Film and Television and has teamed up with fellow UPWIFT Board Member and President, Actor/Producer Heidi Elizabeth Philipsen-Meissner and her husband, Producer Niko Meissner to collaborate on Tracy and Jon’s newest script, the dark drama, This is Nowhere. The indie feature, currently in development, is projected to enter production in the late summer of 2014.

Seed & Spark: With Crowdfunding, Lois Lane Finally Gets Her Front Page Story

Women are making strides when it comes to our place in movies, but in comparison to our male counterparts, we’re still just like Superman and Lois Lane. One of us can fly while the other is stuck with the bus.

Heidi Philipsen-Meissner: writer, director, producer and actress

This is a guest post by Heidi Philipsen-Meissner.

When I was a little girl, I had two all-time favorite hobbies. One was to get all the neighborhood kids together to create some sort of production. We didn’t have a film camera back then and video did not yet exist (at least not in my 1970s world), so that narrowed it down to micro-circus performances (the tire swing served as a trapeze act) or Xanadu-inspired roller skate music productions (complete with a ramp).

I was the writer, director, production manager, creative marketing manager, and the lead act. We had all the parents lined up at our very own, homemade, popcorn stand created from cardboard, and we charged 25 cents per bag. The entry fee for the act was a dollar.

My favorite performance included all of us girls and my brother dressed either as Wonder Woman with a lasso or as Sandy from Grease decked out in a “Pinkie” jacket and black leotard. We were fierce in our power to command the stage and demanded attention for our impromptu performance. I felt on top of the world. It never occurred to me that I might not be.

The other all-time favorite hobby of mine also involved performance, but this time as the spectator: going to the movies with my dad.

As I learned from episodes of The Brady Bunch and the occasional trip to my Auntie Neva’s house, most families during the 70s and 80s (when I was in elementary school and middle school) enjoyed a day devoted to the idea of the American family as a unit. They shared the day throwing a football around, playing cards, and eating a ceremonial meal together.

Not my family.

On those days, we split up, mom with son and dad with daughter, hitting the movies and celebrating cinema as if our lives depended on it. (Later in my life, after I had been raped in college, I would watch movies to escape and repress the post-traumatic stress I could not handle and, thus, my life did depend on cinema as therapy.)

It was around the age of 9 that I first started to realize that, as a girl, I might be getting the raw end of the deal in society. I was watching Superman. (Hard to believe that almost 40 years later they are still investing time, energy and money to bring that movie to the box office, but, heh, who am I to criticize?)

I loved the movie Superman. I had dreams of Christopher Reeve dressed up in tights for months thereafter and—I kid you not—every night after watching the movie, I chanted a silent prayer to myself before falling asleep: “Please let there be a real Superman, please let there be a real Superman, please let there be a real Superman!”

Movies with special effects were still a thing of unbelievable magic back then, and as a result of the persuasive productions, people often left movie theatres convinced of realities outside the one we know. I remember the local news aired a report encouraging parents to warn their kids not to jump out of windows or off roofs. Because, unlike what the movie made us believe, humans did not truly possess the mystical, physical power of flight with nothing but a cape to propel them up, up and away.

So here I was, a girl of 9, watching Superman with my dad and taking in this story about a guy who is not just the smartest on the block, but who could also defy the expectations of everyone around him. He ends up the strongest, sexiest, most handsome and genuinely wonderful man when trouble comes into town, and his helpless girl is threatened.

But that is not to say that Lois is completely devoid of talent. She is a smart, beautiful woman with great ambition and courage, going after the best story under the most dangerous of circumstances. Every guy in the movie (and movie theater, most likely) wanted her.

And yet, SHE wasn’t the hero. HE was.

So I suddenly realized, at 9, watching that movie, I came to a realization: “Why couldn’t I have been born a boy?” I thought sincerely, “Boys are able to DO so much more and be taken seriously.”

The rest, unfortunately still, as they say, is “his” story. Skip forward nearly 40 years later: I am still putting together “neighborhood productions,” only this time, on a much larger scale and with more “kids from around the block.”

Currently, I’m producing my second feature film, This is Nowhere, which I’m also co-directing and acting in. Fittingly enough, it is about a teenage girl who’s struggling to match the world of her dreams with the actual, uninspiring world that she wishes she could rise above or escape.

Otherwise, things have changed in the world around me, but not that much. (Remember what I mentioned earlier about the Superman sequel— it’s currently being shot, again, in Detroit – but this time with Batman!) And when it comes to opportunities within film industry— the industry in which I work —men still metaphorically soar above women.

According to an article in the Hollywood Reporter earlier this year, “A new report by the Women’s Media Center finds that women are still underrepresented on screen and behind the scenes in film and television. The report, which is a summary of original research done at USC, San Diego State and elsewhere over the past year, declared that ‘the American media have exceedingly more distance to travel on the road to gender-blind parity.”

Lois Lane still hasn’t gotten her shot at that front-page story.

Don’t get me wrong, women are making strides when it comes to our place in movies, but in comparison to our male counterparts, we’re still just like Superman and Lois Lane. One of us can fly while the other is stuck with the bus.

And though I sometimes miss being 9, I don’t miss the 1970s when there were only a couple of channels on TV and when the Internet did not exist. The latest movies could only be exhibited in controlled movie theatres.

Today, with all of the viable outlets for digital distribution and crowdfunding platforms (like Seed&Spark), we, as women, have our very own special power: the power of numbers and support. Locating content that fills the gender gap in storytelling has never been easier; we’re only a click away from watching films that appeal to us.

And THAT is an amazing power to possess. We can BE the change we want —and need —to see, both on and off screen, earning our wings in “her” side of history.

Heidi Philipsen-Meissner is a producer, writer, actress and director with 15 years of professional experience in international film, television and communications. Currently, she’s producing and co-directing her second feature film, This is Nowhere.

Seed & Spark: Agency and ‘Afternoon Delight’

I was lucky enough to listen to Jill Soloway speak recently at a small gathering to discuss a new filmic voice for women, hosted by the genius and innovative Emily Best, CEO of the crowdfunding and distribution platform Seed & Spark. Soloway spoke so eloquently about her process and about women’s opportunities and struggles in the film industry. She was so engrossing and inspiring to listen to that there was a palpable feeling of magic in the room. One of the valuable lessons I took away from our discussion was about her career turning point — from producer to filmmaker — is that she realized that no one else was going to make it happen for her. It makes me wonder how many other women and men are waiting for permission to make their masterpieces, and license to make the characters within them bold, alive, and human.

Juno Temple and Katherine Hahn in Afternoon Delight — Juno Temple and Katherine Hahn in *Afternoon Delight*

This is a guest post by Leah Rudick.

I recently made my first foray into screenwriting. Very exciting, no? A few months ago, I started writing a script about a woman in her early 30s who finds herself suddenly living in New York City, wading through the murky waters without direction, a passive observer in a sea of eccentric, cruel and hilarious characters. A woman searching for her purpose. Who’s excited? Did I pique your interest? Is that a resounding YES?! I wrote about 40 pages, got stuck, and showed it to my intuitive and brilliant better half who read it, gave me some very generous compliments, and then asked, “Why don’t you give Sarah [my heroine] some agency? What does she want? Is there a way for her to be bolder instead of having all of these things happen to her? A way to let her be the ignition for whatever construction or destruction occurs? Can we watch her be the cause rather than the reaction?” They were great questions. Why was I interested in writing something about a woman who seemed comfortable being so inactive? Who was satisfied sitting back and observing, judging, but paralyzed from actually stepping in and taking part.

It’s a manifestation of a struggle I’ve always had, the fight against my natural instinct to be the shy, passive observer. It’s something that my inspired 78-year old acting coach worked tirelessly to drill out of my head: “Leah, what do you want in this scene? You can’t exist in this gray area. It’s boring!” It’s an issue that I notice in many films that I’ve seen and worked on. The female character is the watcher, the muse, the victim, the object. And while I have been easily able to detect this trope in the work of others, I was totally oblivious to it in my own work.

When I watched Jill Soloway’s most recent feature, Afternoon Delight, I was, in the truest sense of the word, delighted. It was everything I wanted in a movie: Hilarious, tragic, deeply moving, beautifully shot with incredibly grounded and brilliant performances across the board. The story follows stay-at-home mom Rachel (Katherine Hahn) who takes in a young stripper named McKenna (Juno Temple) in an effort to save her and also to distract herself from her own upper middle class malaise.

This is a film about women’s agency, and watching it was an eye opener for me. The movie is so bold and colorful and also so feminine in a more real way than I think one often sees in film, even sometimes in those made by women. It is emboldening to watch, because it has been created by the voice of a woman who is seemingly unfettered by the much discussed “male gaze” in filmmaking.

Leah Rudick and Katie Hartman in web series Made to Order — Leah Rudick and Katie Hartman in web series *Made to Order*

I’m grateful she had the realization, because Afternoon Delight is masterful at defying the norms of the comedy genre in such an incredibly subtle way. This conversation of agency begs another discussion about which genres best lend themselves to this kind of work. It is one thing to make an action film with a female lead and make her active and in control and awesome (I am so excited to see the Seed & Spark funded Sheila Scorned, a “grindhouse short starring a quick-witted stripper who’s out to get even with the men in her way” because it looks badass), but what about when the genre is one that typically does not allow for female agency?

I produce a web series with my comedy duo, Skinny Bitch Jesus Meeting, called Made To Order about two sisters who start an underground food delivery service. It is a sort of high octane comedy about two women who forcefully throw themselves into a world they know nothing about at the expense of everything. With my very brilliant comedy partner, Katie Hartman, it has been thrilling to create two characters who do rather than watch and manage this in a completely unhinged way.

I love the idea of finding more ways to write female characters with agency in every genre, across the board. This awareness and need for these types of character in creative work has had a profound effect on my own writing and I know that I’m not alone in this sentiment. When we start allowing characters to do, rather than to simply watch others do, worlds open up and we can actually started having fun.

Leah Rudick is an actress, writer and comedian. Film credits include Cut to Black (Brooklyn Film Fest Audience Award), Lost Children (Desperate Comfort Prod., IFP Lab Selection), Bloody Mary (Sci-fi channel), Kids Go to the Woods, Kids Get Dead (Darkstar Entertainment), Prayer to a Vengeful God (Insurgent Pictures) and Jammed (Runaway Bandit Productions). She can be seen on the popular web series High Maintenance and on the webby-winning youtube channel Barely Political. She is a founding member of Lifted Yoke Productions, and is currently in pre-production for their feature dramedy, Sweet Parents. Their first short film, Blackout, can be streamed at Seed & Spark Cinema. She is a contributing writer to Reductress.com. She is half of the sketch comedy duo Skinny Bitch Jesus Meeting (Edinburgh Fringe, The PIT, UCBT, NY Fringe Fest) and co-creator/co-star of their upcoming web series Made To Order (madetoorderseries.com).