Cheerleader in Chief

The Executive Producer as team champion, bringing clarity, care, and creative trust to the messy miracle of getting an indie doc made.

Over the past twelve years, I have financially contributed to somewhere in the ballpark of thirty films; mostly feature docs and a handful of doc shorts. On most of those, I am a credited executive producer, or as I’ve come to call it, Chief Cheerleader. Twelve years is my longest stretch in any professional capacity, and “professional” applies here, because I treated it like a job. A very part time job, but a job nonetheless.

What is an “executive producer,” anyway? The Documentary Producers Alliance crediting guidelines define the role as “... a financier or a film professional who contributes to the creative development and production of a film, offering essential value and guidance through editorial input, fundraising, producing issues, legal matters, or distribution strategy. The EP may also be an early champion and validator of the project, willing to offer initial backing before other entities take on the risk. The EP is the highest-ranking financing producer credit for an individual, and the second-highest non-financing producing credit after that of Producer.”

This is a helpful start, but the nature of a definition is to focus more on the “what” than on the “how.” This murky gap is fertile ground for a wide range of interpretations and misunderstandings. EP relationships can be rewarding and productive, but they can also be tricky and stressful.

Because EPs are humans, and the role is open to a lot of interpretation, we run the behavior gamut. Rebecca Celli shared a few examples in a recent 8 Above guest post: on one hand, the band of seasoned EPs on Cutting Through Rocks played an instrumental role in crafting a standout year: festival run, distribution, and awards campaign. On the other, the frustration and disappointment when high net worth individuals shift direction, close up shop, or behave disrespectfully. In “Can Indie Film Trust Rich People?” Anthony Kaufman explores the precarity of a reliance on the whims and interests of individual funders over time, and wonders about the role these folks might play in the future. My response to Anthony’s question is: I can’t say if a class of citizens can be trusted or not, but as long as we’re here let’s try to help steer these relationships in the most productive, positive, and joyful direction possible.

To that end, I’m sharing some practical wisdom I’ve picked up as an EP with a little help from my friends. To prepare this piece I reached out to about twenty working producers and asked for their EP “roses and thorns.” I wanted to ground my advice in the experiences of people actually doing the work, dealing with a wide range of individuals paying for their films. My thoughts are in standard font; producer contributions are in italics.

📣 Communicate clearly and in a timely manner

Try not to lead a filmmaker on while considering their project. If a funder asks for follow-up meetings and expresses high levels of enthusiasm, we get our hopes up. If you’re still on the fence, just be honest so we can temper expectations. We’re used to rejection but it can sting worse when all you hear is positive feedback and you spend extra time and work, but it’s a pass.

When you get to “no ”in the courting phase, communicate as quickly as possible. I really struggled with this. Saying “no” SUCKS. As much as my head knew it wasn’t a fit, my heart ached at the prospect of letting someone down. Writing a personal and thoughtful rejection is exhausting; so much so, I’d do just about anything else to avoid writing one, delaying the inevitable for far too long.

I have a confession to make, and it may be controversial: AI writes my rejection drafts to cold pitch emails now. I load the whole email text into Perplexity.ai with the prompt: “write a kind rejection note.” I hate to say it but the AI writes far lovelier text than what I’d come up with on my own, and in about one second. Note here I said “draft.” I review the words carefully, edit appropriately, and make sure I stand by it before hitting “send.” Outsourcing this emotional labor in service of crafting a respectful and timely response is a trade-off I am willing to make.

Once you’re on a project, respond to incoming requests and questions promptly. If I’m buried, I’ll write a quick email saying, “Got your note. I’m buried; I’ll get back to you in a week,” or whenever I expect to have the bandwidth. We all hate being left hanging; a little acknowledgement goes a long way. If you have an assistant or a team, delegate. Filmmakers are happy to connect through a representative if it allows you to be more responsive to follow up and navigate delicate matters.

Goes without saying: No ghosting.

📣 Make expectations explicit

I challenge you to find a better guideline to assist in clarifying expectations than the Active Voice Lab Prenups. Published in 2009, they remain an indispensable resource to frame conversations between filmmakers and funders before they sign on the dotted line. Taking the time at the beginning to work through the questions will head off all kinds of head- and heartaches later. Nothing I could say here would add to what’s contained in that amazing document.

I love when an EP can provide clarity about their WHY, which helps with positive outcomes on both sides. If an EP has a strong interest in social impact, or really wants to recoup their money, or loves going to film festivals and parties, or cares especially about seeing their name on print and onscreen, I’d rather know about it!

Remember: Clarity is kindness.

📣 Leverage a wide range of resources…and follow through

Some EPs just want to write a check and attend the premiere (see above: expectations) and that’s rad. But we have a wide array of other resources we can bring to a project; here is a list to get your creative juices flowing:

• Who has a friend with a restaurant where we can host a fundraiser or premiere party?

• Who knows a great recent college grad who can join the team as an intern or PA?

• Who can host a screening at their home or a friend’s home?

• Provide housing during a shoot, festival, or theatrical event

• Use social media to amplify film

• Provide in-kind production services

• Make introductions to businesses for sponsorship funding

• Throw the premiere party/take the team out to dinner

• Contribute airline miles to offset team travel expenses

• Do something fun and unexpected, like swag.

• Don’t just finance – funnance!

Offering resources before the film team asks earns you bonus points. If the offer is accepted, do it, and in a way that puts the absolute least amount of work back on the film team as humanly possible.

📣 Understand that filmmaking is a non-linear creative process

Often funders don’t know what they don’t know. Watching a lot of movies, loving movies, funding movies, is not the same as making movies.

As a former teacher, I relate to this sentiment deeply. Because almost everyone spends a significant part of their life as a student, many assume they know how to teach. Most haven’t a clue. Observing a thing – even for years at close range – is not the same as doing the thing. Executive producing thirty films has maybe made me a better EP, but surely has not turned me into a director.

Trust the director/film team’s vision and artistic approach. The message my financial support communicated was, “I believe in you; I want you to have the resources required to realize your vision.” If I didn’t feel that deep in my heart, I wouldn’t have signed on. I was in the fortunate position to have the philanthropic capacity to provide grant support, which surely framed my approach to the role. Without the expectation of a financial return, there was never any tension between my and the film team’s goals, never a moment when I felt intervened on a decision because I felt the outcome would better serve my pocketbook. I understand this is a tremendous privilege.

It helps to take the long view, especially in documentary; it’s impossible to put creativity on a timeline. I’ve worked with EPs who have seen scheduling changes or creative shifts as failures in the moment – even if these changes ultimately make the films better. And yes, sometimes these changes lead to budget shifts (archive costs, edits, fair use ends up being not, accessibility packages, etc.), but that’s more the norm than the exception. Decide in advance how open you will be to additional requests for money. You know they’re coming.

I could write a whole separate post on giving notes (and maybe I will), and don’t want to go down that rabbit hole in this already long piece. So for now I’ll leave you with some sage words from a producer: Giving notes can be fraught territory but bear in mind that an EP does not have creative control or final cut and offer your feedback from that standpoint. It is a gift to the filmmakers, as long as you’re not trying to put your own mark on the film but want to stay true to the filmmaker’s vision. EPs have a valuable fresh perspective and can remind the team of what the EP saw in the project originally.

📣 Show the money

To the extent possible, once you’ve committed, don’t make us chase you for the money; there’s a line between hustling and begging. If there is a delay on your end, communicate it to the team with an expected arrival date. Productions run close to the bone, and predictability is a gift.

I experimented by importing a couple of philanthropic best practices (oxymoron, I know) into project support: multi-year, “general operating” support. If I joined a project early, I knew it could be one, two, three, four, maybe five years or more before the film would be finished. I thought about my commitment as “x dollars per year” as I would a nonprofit organization, vs. as a one-time contribution. The result was an increase of overall, unrestricted support and the opportunity to shape the timing of funds distribution with the film team. They all opted for annual disbursements vs. a one-time payment; income predictability was a priority. Another approach was to promise a final tranche for when the film premiere was set; having these funds in the proverbial back pocket helped assuage some anxiety about finishing and festival expenses.

Funders committing funding and then pulling out of a project is destructive -- I don’t know if funders realize the sophisticated game of Jenga that is putting together financing for indie films, and how one block pulling out can mean everything will fall apart.

It sucks when a movie doesn’t recoup its costs. Holding that over a filmmaker’s head — especially when a funder knows the risks of investing — does little to solve the problem and creates a power imbalance between the filmmakers and the funders. A filmmaker should always want to get their investors’ money back, but bringing it up in public social situations, guilting them in private, or shaming them is not a money-making strategy. Funders should work with filmmakers they’re happy to fail alongside, given the state of the industry.

🩷 Hanging it up

Careful readers will note the use of the past tense in this essay. For a host of reasons (watch for a future post!) I’m retiring as an EP. I am so proud of every single film I played a small part in bringing into the world, and all the wonderful relationships I now have with those brilliant and creative people. Lucky for us, new EPs enter the scene every day. I hope these words will contribute to fun and meaningful partnerships for years to come. Go team!