Thing I (re)learned from running a film club
An exercise in taking my own advice
Before I get into the meat of today’s article and in case you don’t get to the end of the verbiage, a call to action: we are going to host an in person gathering for London film programmers. A lot of what I’m talking about below would be better done in collaboration and even just bringing people together would help break down some of the bigger issues. The only criteria you need to join is having put on a screening in the last year (doesn’t have to be in London). There’s probably a meet up for people who want to put on screenings, but that’s a slightly different conversation. Register here. It’s a chance to meet fellow folks in the arena of finding audiences for films and everything that’s involved.
My career in film started with showing films in public in a community setting and I am now revolving back there as I start the next phase. It was a treat to go back to Birkbeck Cinema recently for Ecstatic Truths’ screening of The Bob Experiment. Unlike the screenings we used to organise there – artfully curated, beautifully designed posters, almost always single digit audience – it was very well attended. The night before, I’d hosted the biggest event yet of the Waltham Forest Cinema Project, with 102 tickets sold for Eden at Walthamstow Trades Hall.
Delivering this event was a real fillip to the project. In this same month, I’d been turned down for a big grant, and was in need of some validation of the project. Essentially, everything I do with the project is an attempt to reduce the vast shroud of ignorance about how things should be done; to learn by doing. So much of what I found running this event was learning to do things I spend a lot of time at work at the Independent Cinema Office telling other people to do. Advice: so easy to give, so hard to take! So, this is an attempt to put to paper the things I learned, many of which I already knew in my bones.
Marketing is a grind
I know this, I say this whenever I get asked to do public speaking but the cold hard smack of reality still got me: marketing is a relentless grind. I have now had five years since I was doing a full time marketing role, but remembering how thankless and time-consuming it is was a rude awakening. Lamentably, the answer to which of the following actually delivered audience is probably ‘all of these’.
Put posters up at local record shops Vinyl Vanguard and Dreamhouse Records, Trades Hall itself and local film poster shop ReelStore.
Created 10+ pieces of social content, two of which ended up getting a million views on Instagram. Both of these videos were 100% afterthoughts but ended up getting me 1000+ more Instagram followers. Does any of that translate into an audience for other events I do and the project in general? Almost certainly not. But internet points aren’t entirely irrelevant.
Paid for Instagram advertising (£30). This one was a bitter pill to swallow with Zuckerberg cosying up to Trump and running a hostile workplace. I hope never to do it again in all honesty, but I have my doubts.
Started a monthly London screenings newsletter. I try to take the approach of ‘give to get’ in marketing so promoting other people’s things (which I genuinely find fascinating and like sharing) is a good start. You can sign up here if you want some of that!
Volunteered at Walthamstow Trades to write their monthly newsletter for them as they are without a marketing coordinator.
Flyered the Heat or Eat charity rave at Wood Street Bear and Ravenswood Collective at 10PM, stone cold sober after doing an eleven hour workday for ICO (thank you to my wife who also was willing to ask people, ‘Do you like house music?’ while proffering flyers).
Asked for a lot of social media shares from different groups (thanks to all those who did!).
Asked for Film London and Waltham Forest Council to share on their channels.
Talked about the event at any social gathering, any random conversation, any WhatsApp group I am part of. Friends were around 25% of the eventual turn out, but many of them live in the area, so I don’t feel bad about this (though they may all hate me now, sorry for the spam guys!).
It’s not cheap if you pay people
There’s an understandable assumption that everything in community cinema context is cheap. But that’s only true if you don’t pay people. Part of me trying to build something sustainable is to make sure that the everyone is paid fairly along the way, with the exception of myself (to date). What we are doing is not politically valuable enough to warrant people’s time not being compensated. And part of learning for me is entering the real world of what everything costs. Undoubtedly people cut me breaks and they could command more money elsewhere, but the costs of the DJs, poster designer, projectionists and space hire made the event non-profitable even with the good result we had with attendance. There are ways to mitigate this in the future, and I’m happy to have put on an event that has raised the profile of the organisation, but it’s worth bearing in mind. Having no cut of the bar – as most film clubs don’t – really clarifies where the money is mainly to be made in cinemas.
Things go wrong
However much you plan, things do go wrong. On the night, the file we were playing from was corrupted, leading to a black screen and a sore feeling in my gut for the rest of the night. Luckily, I had prepped a DVD back up. Then fifteen minutes from the end of the film the venue’s fire alarm went off. Both of these issues were resolved fairly quickly and I had no complaints. Two things I will say I have learned in the ten years since I began this work: people are only as bothered as you are about it; and in all honesty, people expect and accept a level of chaos at a community event.
I once ran an event with Ken Loach where we played his short film from a disc. The detailed instructions I’d sent to the projectionist were ignored and he hit play on the first film in the disc. Running back to the projection booth, the entire audience had to watch while we cackhandedly navigated the menu screen. I could hear people shout along as the projectionist fumbled the remote (‘Left! No! YES!’). People told me afterwards that they had connected with people next to them over it (and Loach himself was beyond gracious). I am in no sense suggesting you seek out these moments. Delivering the best projection you can manage in the circumstances is the minimum of asking people to gather in public. But when the inevitable happens, roll with it and remain calm.
It pays to be extra
Three days before the event I turned to my wife as I hovered over an Etsy listing, ‘Do you think I could make these paper craft Daft Punk helmets before the event?’ ‘No.’ Five minutes passed. ‘You could try.’ Let it be known I need no more encouragement than that. Is Eden a film about Daft Punk? No, barely. Do I have the patience and ability to follow instructions for these tasks? Also, hardly. But by absolutely cramming 10 hours of cutting, folding, painting and emergency roadside gaffer taping, I got them done. There are so many other extras I did (themed playlist, pre-event reel, introduction) and many more I wanted to do (themed cocktail, a raffle, projections during the DJ set etc etc). In the end the helmets were in use for a couple of songs. But having something fun out there for social media that’s not a picture of the back of people’s heads and a cinema screen was worth it.
It can be lonely
I had three months on sale with the event and there were definite periods where it was exceptionally quiet both on ticket sales and my contributions to marketing. Overall – and people might not necessarily think this given what a gob I can be in public – but there is a psychic cost to constantly asking people to help you out with your event and even more nakedly, that they should come along. The feeling of being a fantasist or of brazen self-interest when you ask to put a poster up isn’t nothing. On the other hand, I don’t want to live in a world where only narcissists get to the front, so I push on, but it’s good to acknowledge it is a push that costs something.
Creating Instagram posts just to see them disappear into an algorithmic hole is punishing; so is being refused a flyer by someone face to face (I have more sympathy with charity muggers now). And you’re also face to face with other people’s buying habits. I am the embodiment of the 🤓 emoji when it comes to booking events: I see it, I check my calendar, I book it. But most people are not: we sold about 30% of the tickets in the last five days. I know this from other work I do, but the effect of putting so much in at the start to only reap the rewards at the end was quite a trudge at times.
I feel like other people are in this cycle now (unless there’s a super cool pop up programmers club happening without me, and more power to them if so). If you’d like to connect with others, why not join a wee social I’m planning?
And then very not lonely!
Of course, this would have been worthless if no one turns up. And they did. The vibes were really as I expected them, and while it’s hard to talk about what this is tangibly, there was a genuine sense of community, one that is enhanced by people seeing the things they’re interested in are not a niche. People didn’t leap to the dancefloor, but perhaps this was overly ambitious for a quite downbeat French film about giving up on your dreams. But most people stayed for a drink and a chat, soundtracked by our amazing DJs.
If you make a Daft Punk helmet, remember to put the eye holes in before construction as it’s impossible to do afterwards
Though it does help with the ‘dance like nobody’s watching’ mindset.
