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We had back-to-back meetings with sales agents and distributors on Tuesday and what an education that turned out to be.  By now Agustin had become a pro at pitching our movie and he and I formed an effective tag team in these follow-up meetings.  Folks seemed surprisingly tickled to meet a female director which, in truth, makes me a bit sad.Interestingly, we found people were more turned on by the comedy element than the horror aspect of our movie.  A particularly candid and informative sales rep shared some especially valuable advice with us.  Of all our meetings, she was my favorite -  super bright, concise and fabulously sardonic. In seconds she had won my confidence that she knew what she was talking about, which is becoming increasingly rare.  The more I learn, the more I think too many people are merely “playing movie business” without really having much of a clue about movies, audiences and life in general, but I digress.

Cool female sales agent explained her company only goes for “high-end horror” which translates: pristine production values (shot in HD or film) and at least the appearance of a serious approach (i.e. no Troma-esque B-movies).  She suggested that a couple of name actors are helpful, though not crucial.  Some sort of hook helps.  Plot and acting are far less important unfortunately.  She herself prefers “good” movies, but they “don’t necessarily sell.”

She showed us a poster of a war thriller they represent and confessed, “This movie isn’t any good, but check out the art work.  And it looks and sounds great.  Too bad it’s boring and poorly written, but we can sell it for sure – especially to Asian markets which are the ones that really matter.”

She got interested when we explained ours is really more of a comedy.  “Now that gives us some flexibility!” She checked out our DVD box and liked our artwork a lot (go, Ian!)  “Good just enough pot references without too much.  Does it have bathroom humor?” she asked hopeful, to which I confessed, “I guess a little.”  She frowned, “Too bad.  Bathroom humor really sells.  Low-brow’s great.  It doesn’t translate if it’s too intelligent.”  D’oh!

I suppose I should have felt discouraged, but I actually had to stifle a giggle.  That sounds like something our former president might’ve said.  I sure hope our movie isn’t “misunderestimated.”  Oh well, we are clearly not living in an era of extreme intellectualism and I’d rather know the rules and find a way to do what I want and STILL get it out there, so this was all immensely helpful.

So, I dutifully added, “Did we mention there’s a puppet?”

“Really?” she asked, enthused (as we’re learning, everybody loves a puppet – more thanks, Ian!)

She requested a screener that she promised to review after the market adding, “My husband’s a total pothead so I’ll watch it with him.  He’s a better judge of this genre.  Regardless, of whether or not we’re interested, I’ll be in touch and tell you why or why not.  And I can probably point you in the right direction if it’s a pass for us.”  She seemed sincere and I thanked her for being so helpful and meant it.

We took numerous other meetings and picked up a bunch of other valuable info.  In a nutshell, and artistic merit completely aside mind you, here’s what you ABSOLUTELY want to be sure to include in your movie if you’re interested in landing decent international distribution:

1)    A dynamic title and great artwork that really sells a titillating movie (whether or not it’s the movie you’ve actually made because this is about selling, not good filmmaking.)  A good tagline with a hook also helps (my personal fave:  Mad Cow’s “Boy . Meat. Girl.”)  and write a compelling logline and synopsis – ( again, they don’t have to reflect more than the first 5 minutes of your film. selling your movie has surprisingly little to do with your actual movie sadly.)

2)    Pristine production values, shot on HD or film, great sound

3)    The first 5 minutes (and ideally 10) need to kick ass – apparently, the rest of the movie can suck if you’ve met with the first two criteria, only the QC folks will likely watch it all the way through and they only care about #2 (pun intended)

4)    If you can’t get name actors, get super hot, young ones (if it’s a genre film, make sure there’s some good female nudity in there)

5)    Keep dialogue to a minimum.  If it’s horror, you need decent FX, if it’s comedy make sure there’s lots of low-brow visual gags.

6)  If you hope to make an actual profit off your independent film and you have no stars, try to shoot it for under $30,000 (if it’s horror, get it into the Sitges Film Festival.  Most distributors with whom we spoke seemed unimpressed by any others outside of the super biggies – Cannes, Berlin, Sundance, Toronto, Venice.)

6)    If you can’t comply with enough of the other criteria, make sure you have a puppet, female director, and/or make them laugh a lot and they’ll at least pretend to be interested in your project.

We had more requests for screeners than I’d expected and a couple companies felt like they might even be good fits if we decide we’re ready to go this route.  Regardless, the education was invaluable and we were glad to cut our teeth on this process in a no-pressure context.

After a hard day’s work, Agustin and I grabbed lunch at an outdoor café where we dined on the most amazing mussels, duck and accompanied by our daily sangria.  We were also  afforded the fun opportunity of sitting next to this Israeli couple, the woman of which was a participant in an official Cannes Film Fest fellowship that had put her up in Paris for 5 months while she worked on her screenplay.  We swapped stories about writing, film fests and some of the crazy people we’ve met along our journey, and I noted once again how some of the most valuable information acquired while at a fest comes in the most unexpected places.  I learned about a lot of international opportunities (some similar to AFI’s DWW) that seem right up my alley (hell, any excuse to spend time in Europe would suffice, but if it helps me make movies all the better!)

After, we forewent our usual pain au chocolat in favor of a proper French macaron (divine!), grabbed a champagne at the Petite Majestic (far less chaotic at this hour) and met up with J, Nat and Ra in line to catch Gregg Araki’s new film Kaboom. Sadly, this turned out to be a market screening rather than an official Cannes screening and was only open to buyers, rendering my professional badge utterly useless.  Sigh.

No worries, however, as we had a fine Plan B.  Agustin had scored us invites to a swanky catered beach party at the American Pavilion where they would premiere some film about which we knew nothing.  We arrived a bit early, so crashed a couple of other parties at other pavilions beforehand scoring free wine, beer and munchies to tied us over.

The American Pavilion is one of the bigger tents and the champagne was flowing alongside yummy pretentious finger foods.  The weather was perfect and we had a blast, sitting on the deck overlooking the gorgeous beach.  We were actually disappointed when our hosts called us in to the screening, reluctant to leave the wonderful scene, but felt we owed it to them to watch their film.  And besides, it was a movie after all – isn’t that why we’re all here?  Okay, yay! It’s movie time… or not.

We grabbed the few remaining empty seats and found ourselves directly in front of previously mentioned Majestic Hotel Bar buddy Daniel Fanaberia of Cannes market film Behind Your Eyes.  We compared our respective Cannes observations until the movie rolled.  Oh boy…

I shan’t mention the name of the film (hell, I don’t even remember it) in respect for the kind people who treated us to such a nice party, and let me preface this by saying that I have sat through countless films I have not liked in the least (whose makers have NOT plied me with food and alcohol beforehand) just so as not to offend the filmmakers also in attendance.  I try to be supportive of other indie filmmakers, truly I do.  We’re all in this together after all.

However, this was positively unbearable.  Clearly shot with a reasonable budget, beautifully shot with nice production design and a few known actors (several whom I know personally, no less), it was simultaneously boring and offensive.  I was offended not by the topless mindless female characters, nor the other unlikeable sexist stereotypes that made up the cast, but rather, by the fact that they clearly had tons of money and could not be bothered to write or buy a decent script.  Was this somebody’s vanity project?  Egads!  I think it was supposed to be a drama of sorts, yet it was filled with all these cheesy action film one-liners that felt like somebody saw Die Hard and thought, “Oh, neat-o – I can write funny lines like that, too!” when s/he clearly could not.

After 2/3 of the audience had left within the first excruciating 10 minutes, we had no choice but to follow suit.  Nat felt horrible and apologized to the producer on our way out, “I’m so sorry, but we have to go.”  She did not lie.  Life is too short.  We DID have to go.  Besides, somebody should have told them – this is not a movie for audiences.  Learn your craft.  Films need to entertain people – not all people, that would be impossible, but SOME people at least.  This, I believe,  did not.

After the initial guilt trip subsided, the champagne in our system must have bubbled back up because we became suddenly giddy in our newfound freedom as we fled the International Pavilion and hopped on a beachside merry-go-round.  Ra, Nat and I posed on our bobbing horses as Agustin shot us with the flip camera.  Suddenly it felt like the world was our oyster and we laughed endlessly in love with all things Cannes.

We then opted to go back to “our table” at the Majestic Hotel bar. Nat was beside herself when Karl Lagerfeld passed us by (see the top of his head over A’s shoulder if you click photo below right) and Agustin was equally enthused when Gary Busey passed by (once again, I missed them both, enraptured in our own discussion accompanied by the loveliest white wine.)

Nat, Ra and I all failed to notice when Agustin got really quiet, however, as we became particularly engrossed in the topic of our upcoming collaborative project.  I might add that while my blogs inevitably reflect the fun, party atmosphere (and food), our ongoing discussions rarely departed completely from work for long – whether it was about marketing our already made films and/or strategies for our upcoming ones.  For example, Nat, J and I have been in discussion for months already about a particularly exciting project on which we plan to collaborate: with J in the director’s seat, Nat in the lead female role and I’ve already written the script.

And though we’ve e-mailed and talked on the phone about it the past few months, this was the first time we had a face to face in depth discussion about the world, the character, the way we’d bring it to life.  I felt like I was IN the story.  It was magical.  Anyway, as we sat there, all three of us captivated by the possibilities, we did not notice that somebody else found our own scene captivating.  Finally, Agustin unable to keep put any longer, interrupted.  “Guys, we’ve got to go.”

The bottle of wine had long been drained and we reluctantly acquiesced.  But as soon as we were out of earshot of the bar, Agustin lost his composure blurting out,  “I can’t believe you missed it!”

“What?”  we all asked, looking at him quizzically.

“Woody Allen stopped right in front of you all and gawked!”

I thought Nat was going to faint right then and there.  Some girls might be into Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp,   Fabio(?) – whatever.  But our group is definitely more impressed by a man like Woody.

Now I don’t think Nat really grabbed Agustin by the collar and shook him as I now comically envision it, but she did drop her usual charming,  gentle feminine demeanor to demand in no uncertain terms, “You tell us absolutely everything that happened – NOW!!!”

Apparently, while we were caught up in the reverie of our movie plans, Agustin felt a presence behind him.  He turned around to see amid a small entourage, Woody Allen himself.  He was escorted by a young blond, whom Agustin later determined must be Naomi Watts who stars in his latest film.

Woody walked by, stopped right in front of our table and blatantly stared at the three of us, lost in our own animated world.  The blond at his side apparently looked annoyed, tugged at his arm and they all walked off.  Agustin sat dumbfounded as we remained oblivious, chatting another 10 minutes until he could take it no more and had to share what he’d witnessed.

I’m not usually star-struck, but admittedly we all laughed and squealed like schoolgirls as we exited the Majestic, Agustin recounting the scenario.  Our “brush with greatness” must have left an impressive afterglow because we found ourselves accosted by the paparazzi just outside the hotel as we exited, stepping off a red carpet, the camera flashes blinding us as we pretentiously posed for them and raced off all aflutter.  It was a silly, yet thrilling moment.

Suddenly famished, we literally skipped down to La Pizza, arm in arm for the much anticipated “pizza of the gods” as I’d been informed by all in the know.  It most certainly is among the better pizzas I’ve consumed in my life and a must for those visiting Cannes.

After a fine dinner of pizza and red wine, we all parted ways, Nat and Ra back to their villa and Agustin and I back to ours, we all commented that it felt like we’d truly been through something major on this wonderful day.  “Great things are in store for us all,” I declared and was certain it was not merely the wine and excitement of the day talking.

Nothing all that big had really happened, and yet it felt like a day of everything.  Agustin and I had the most wonderful talk about the present, the future, our goals and dreams as we climbed up the hill to the Cannes Independent Film Fest Villa.  The movies and discussions of the night were long past and I was sad to have missed them despite our own fun adventures.  Still,  as we crept through the front door knowing our villa family slept soundly after equally inspiring days no doubt, it all felt really right.  We were all in this together.  And I could hardly wait to fall asleep so I could wake up and start another wonderful day in this magical world.