Et tu, Brute

Et tu, Brute

Remember when I said that Id finally convinced the Artist, the director, the owner of the Studio, you know, that madman. Id convinced him that doing a movie every two years was not the way to operate a business, or to keep his studio afloat. That there was a need, indispensable, to bring in outside business, outside movies, and also to continue the work on the studios projects, which needed to be more diversified than just doing movies for one potential audience. Like, doncha put all your eggs in one basket. Big Chief supported the idea, The Artist was warming to it, Farm Boy was all in.

Then Big Chief gets cold feet, or slows the process down, as I recently vented about. I vented, but because he’s holding back, supposedly, to invest in the distribution of a movie I produced, I don’t have much grounds for complaints.

A little background is in order. When I arrived at the Studio, they were hanging on by a thread. Literally. If I hadn’t helped them out, they would have been closed. Locked up even maybe, not due to anyone’s fault, just due to some mismanagement of funds and the failings of the attorney they had previously hired.

I dug em out, with the help of the Chief. We straightened out the show, and the Studio made the movie. They stayed in business. The Artist got to continue being an artist. And I got paid a little bit of money to make the movie, and to work at the Studio. Never much, but enough to live on. And it was fine, no complaints.

Then when the movie began to take longer and longer to complete, the well started to run dry. But since the work wasn’t done, I kept working. No pay, I actually went into my own pocket, and worked my tail off for nine months without a check from the Studio.

Yes, really. I’m about to be paid fully for my work over that time, so that’s fine. No problem there. Of course, once again, with my being here, there would be no way that the additional funding would ever have come in. In other words, I got myself paid. Ive done this all along, while keeping the Studio doors open.

Flashforward. Til Sunday, just past. Without me knowing, Chief meets with the Artist and with a horror film producer, someone with a questionable record of success. Someone who wrote a movie that did fairly well for him, but who has had quite his share of failures as well.

Why? To greenlight the idea of working on horror genre films at the Studio to keep the door open.

Which means I have to be beholded to this guy (lets call him Zombie). Zombie knows more about the movie biz than me? Please. I mean really, please. His last movie, the one he just made, was one of the least distributable movies I’ve ever seen. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t distributed.

I wont work for him. Im bothered significantly that my idea has to be run by Zombie for him to approve them. Yeah, he knows George Romero and Wes Craven, but how much has that helped him make money with his movies over the last ten years. And now, I have to hear third hand that they have had a meeting regarding to consider doing the movies that I’ve brought in (or others like them), without telling me, and having the Zombie come along?

Why would I put up with this shit. Anyway, headed into a sitdown about this, I am sure. See how it goes. I have a lot invested here, yes, but I’m not going to kill myself if the investment isn’t respected.

G

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