Attending Catalyst Content Festival
Fitger’s Brewery in Duluth, Minnesota, one of the workshop locations of Catalyst Content Festival.
For years, I have avoided festivals.
Many things are to blame — the pandemic was hard on local festivals and many paused or shut down. I improved at my craft and didn’t need as much “getting started” advice from other filmmakers at workshops. Also, due to my social anxiety, I found networking to be challenging and inauthentic — my attempts to connect felt off. I was curious about others’ projects, but I often perceived the other party to be more interested in boasting about their achievements and finding out what I could do for them. Even with several years of experience in business development professionally, I still struggle to “brag” about my work in a one-on-one conversation.
I chalked up festivals as pointless because the goal of them is to build relationships, and I already had enough strong relationships to get my work made.
From Distrust to Opportunity
If I didn’t prioritize building relationships with other filmmakers, what could I stand to gain from a festival? The answer is building relationships with industry professionals who could help me distribute my work.
And yet, here was another roadblock. My perceptions of “the industry” were colored by stories of artistic compromise and studio interference. I remembered the plot of The TV Set, a film inspired by writer/director Jake Kasdan’s experience in the television industry (David Duchovny’s central character pitches a moving, smart drama to a studio only to have executives transform the pilot into a farty comedy). One of my favorite filmmakers Orson Welles was notorious for struggling with studios to get his work made — and in one case the studio changed his ending to The Magnificent Ambersons without permission.
With all this distrust, why give it another go?
As I was thinking about producing DS Birch Carlson with the help of a Minnesota State Arts Board grant, I considered what about this process would add to my artistic growth. I covered complexity of the pilot’s script in my previous article, which is a major opportunity for growth. But something told me I should also check my biases about industry connections and try another festival.
Choosing Catalyst Content Festival
I chose Catalyst as my re-entry point into the festival scene for a few reasons. First off, a friend of mine premiered her film Freshwater in Duluth a few years back, and I attended the screening. The documentary film follows a group of surfers who ride the icy waves of Lake Superior in the wintertime and also explores the relationship to the lake for researchers and artists. Lynn’s premiere event featured a panel of speakers, which included a representative from Catalyst. Catalyst offered guidance to Lynn’s team as the piece took shape. Hearing about this organization at the panel opened my eyes to Catalyst as a potential resource.
As I dug in to learn more about Catalyst, I liked its intentional support for independent creators. I specifically align with their mission of empowering creators to do what they love where they live. About a decade ago, I had an experience where some fancy creative from Los Angeles told me that if I really wanted to do anything in film, I had to move to L.A. immediately. It’s probably my stubbornness mixed with my inability to drop everything to chase my dreams, but I refuse to believe I can’t tell stories where I live.
Finally, Catalyst’s festival offered an opportunity to share works either in progress or complete. I could submit my script for a review and potentially receive feedback as I began my production.
So, as part of my grant submission for DS Birch Carlson, I allocated budget for attending the festival that October.
Attending the Festival
The Writer’s Strike
Remember that time that the Writer’s Guild of America staged a five-month walkout to demand better compensation for streaming and protect their interests in the emergence of AI-generated content? That definitely happened leading up to Catalyst’s festival, and they had to pivot to honor what was going on in the industry. There were a few repercussions that rippled throughout the festival. First, many industry representatives pulled out. Also, all submitted content for judging (like my script submission) would no longer be reviewed.
My hopes and expectations for attending the event needed to pivot, just as the festival needed to.
Meeting Fellow Creators
Despite the change in the event, there were many highlights to attending. One was meeting Mya Morton, creator of the pilot What Remains of Emily. I loved watching her work, which was inspired by the look of CW teen dramas. She directed the pilot while at Savannah College of Art and Design, and her production story resonated with me. Some things turned out better than she could have imagined: the look of the cinematography, a beautiful set, and a standout performance from a main cast member. But, like all productions, some things gave her trouble (like a nighttime scene on a bridge where everything that could have gone wrong did). Nevertheless, she and her team persisted, and ultimately completed the pilot.
Another standout individual I got to meet was Charles Zablan, a seasoned DP and photographer who attended representing Canon USA. I attended his presentation and got to hands-on demo some cool new gear, but even better, I sidled up next to him during his office hours. Since there weren’t lots of other attendees vying for his attention, I asked every burning question on my mind:
Why does the picture profile on my Sony A7sii look so darn blue? Am I doing something wrong?
Nope, it’s just a drawback. But Sonys are great if you don’t mind color correction. Or you can use footage straight from camera if you want to make a sci-fi!How is it that Canons read so true with skin tone?
Canon color science is warmer, and it’s a hoot because Sony actually makes their sensors.What is your favorite rig for a walk and talk?
An EZ Rig mini max plus a gimbal. And you’ll need to use dual pixel auto focus, trust the tech!
Besides gear, we chatted about art-life balance, an amazing experience he had stumbling across a wonderful woodworker’s studio in New York, spirituality, and good food. We exchanged lots of laughs and I felt honored to authentically connect with such a great guy.
Workshop Takeaways
I learned a lot of new vocabulary on episodic content, like what a pitch deck looks like (5-15 page marketing deck), and the difference between the summary (10-20 pages describing the mood, tone, and characters), the bible (40-80 pages telling the story arc of the season), and a synopsis (15-20 pages describing an episode). One particular nugget that stuck in my mind is the difference between a film and a television series: a film tells a story, and a television series builds a world.
A Film tells a story; a television series builds a world.
It’s no surprise that I don’t have any connections to anyone I could pitch my ideas to — network mandates (lists of what networks are looking for) and PODs (production overall deals) are closely guarded. The only way around that gatekeeping is to develop relationships with agents, managers, attorneys, and festivals who can access these mandates and PODs. While it’s a bummer that few agents, managers, or attorneys attended Catalyst this round because of the strikes, at least now I know some basics on how to navigate the industry.
Finally, I learned about the magic of the regional Emmy! Of course I new about national Emmys, and never thought I would stand a chance there. But, my local chapter of the National Academy for Television Arts & Sciences (NATAS) is the Upper Midwest. And, any content I create that is publicly available could be eligible to win an Emmy. I still have to submit an entry (and I think I’ll wait until I finish DS Birch Carlson), but what a cool recognition opportunity!
Closing Thoughts
Overall, I felt that my experience at Catalyst Content Festival was successful. I accomplished what I set out to do: meet fellow creators authentically on my terms and counteract some of my biases against the industry by learning. While I wasn’t able to meet a lot of those connectors like agents, managers, and legal, I came away with some great action items.
#1: Get over the concept that participating in an industry-backed production means I won’t have creative control.
What I love about production is that it is a collaborative art. I am not some kind of auteur who proclaims my way or the highway. I already bend to others’ ideas on set, and it would be fun to join others in the creative process in a writer’s room or as a director.
#2: Come back next year.
This one is obvious. Looks like we are clear on avoiding another writer’s strike (for now), so I should go back to Catalyst this fall and try and meet some more industry professionals. Plus, by then my pilot will be complete so I will have something to pitch!
#3: Reverse my marketing philosophy.
As a professional communications specialist, I know the time and effort that good marketing takes. I have really resisted the idea of marketing my own work in the past. I throw my hands up in the air and say, “It’s one or the other! I can either make stuff or tell people about it, not both!” I think it’s time to challenge that notion.
Perhaps that’s my next grant?
Premiere Event
Interested in seeing the final product? Come to our public premiere party in-person and on Zoom on June 14, 2024.
