Flowers, Foxes and Self-Promotion

I have always been reluctant about marketing, particularly self-promotion as a part of it. I avoid friends who always self-promoting, I rarely post on my social media accounts, and when I do, I keep things straightforward.

I dislike heavily marketed things. I have always been drawn to products, books, films, music, artworks, people, and places I discovered on my own by following my interests. Naturally, I wanted others to discover me and my works in the same way.

However, self-promotion is so common that if you don’t do it, it’s like you don’t exist (unless you are a well-known name). Okay, I don’t want to push my works in people’s faces, but I am not looking to be a hermit either. There should be a middle ground for it. At least, people should have a chance to find me and my works. If not so, how would I have discovered the filmmakers and writers I admire, if they hadn’t put themselves out there? I feel that I owe it to others to give them that chance. And, over time, I found a way that felt right to me (and, indeed, satisfied me). Let me explain.

Nature in Action

Most of my films are set in my hometown in northeastern Turkey. It is a lively place, full of plants and nature. The mountains parallel to the coast trap the sea’s temperate air along the coast, which creates a humid and green environment almost like a tropical climate.

Kackar Mountains National Park, near the area, has an incredible variety of plants many of which are endemic species including various flowers. Since I grew up with a father who was an amateur beekeeper, I always related those flowers with bees (rather than romantic gifts). And this gave me the chance to observe their struggle to survive: Bees along with insects and small birds feed on those flowers. They get pollen stuck on their bodies while they feed, and when they move to the next flower, they drop the pollen that helps flowers reproduce. The brighter and better-smelling a flower is, the more likely it is to attract these pollinators. If a flower isn’t bright or fragrant enough, it won’t get visitors, and it won’t reproduce. Therefore, through evolution, flowers developed vibrant colors and appealing scents. Think of them as their sexy features, designed to impress and attract.

To me, the struggle of flowers is a great analogy for my works to get noticed. So, the aim is to make them visible in the best possible way and let people find them on their own. Think about your favorite films, they are probably the ones you stumbled upon yourself. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t refer to sitting back and waiting to be discovered. It is about making sure your work is out there and accessible, but without shoving it in everyone’s face like a pushy salesperson.

Me, as a Flower

So, I plant myself in the soil of the internet and share my works and their details. You can consider this blog as an example. This is a personal resource where my works and thoughts are open and accessible. My films are available on Patreon, their trailers and excerpts on YouTube, and any professional information including screening calendar on my company’s website. While they may not have a wide reach, they still attract individuals interested in my works and topics, much like bees drawn to specific flowers. It is an eco-system that allows me to progress without overt self-promotion.

Surely, this approach might limit my reach to the full potential audience in a highly competitive world. But I don’t see it as a problem since I am already enjoying the fulfillment that comes from knowing that my works have been discovered and appreciated by those who truly value them. So, in this sense, even just one enthusiastic bee can be enough to make a significant impact on my survival.

Me, as a Capitalist

Of course, I also welcome a wide range of audiences if I have the opportunity to be promoted by professional collaborators, such as film festivals or distributors. And of course, I would expect potential profits that might come from it. I often say: Every filmmaker is inherently a capitalist. Films are our capital, we fund them, hire people to make them, and we naturally seek potential profit from them (either directly or through producers). There is nothing wrong with it. However, artists tend to hesitate to identify with this term as people love to paint capitalists as greedy opportunists. Indeed, that’s just a stereotype that leads them to hypocrisy: They live in capitalist systems, benefiting from rewards and using opportunities, but they disregard the term.

We love to blame capitalism for everything. It’s the scapegoat of our time. At the Q&A session following the screening of my debut feature film, I told the audience: I am a capitalist filmmaker. I deliberately used this (negative) label to highlight how filmmakers often avoid it and cherry-pick only the positive labels for self-promotion. In response, some audience members argued that the term does not reflect me as an artist. Of course, the capitalist is not a term that could define me, it is just an empty label. But let’s be real: Facts are facts. And, we should first accept them to create deeper or broader perspectives. What I believe is that we should acknowledge our participation in capitalism, even if we aim to critique, regulate, or transform the system when we find flaws within it. In the end, no matter how we approach or call it, a promotion is still a promotion to make some kind of profit (whether financial, prestigious, or any other type).

When you hear the name Shakespeare what comes to your mind? You might probably think of his timeless universal themes: Othello’s jealousy or Macbeth’s hunger for power. But do you know that he invested his earnings from his plays in real estate and made a fortune in moneylending? Most of his work was just a re-mix of old folk tales. And most of the process of creating his plays resembled the work of a craftsman like a carpenter. But does all make his art any less valuable? Of course, not. Perhaps it even makes them more humane. After all, he chased making a living like every other human being. Certainly, our definitions and intentions of art have evolved today, but still, having modern and widely accepted artistic identities or good intentions does not make someone a good artist.

Now, I can justify the situation like this:

Mirac Atabey is a capitalist as much as you would consider William Shakespeare to be a moneylender.

Ironically Self-Interested

The irony is that some artist uses anti-capitalist rhetoric since it sells to their specific audience. So, even in their criticism, there is a benefit. And more ironically, artists from developing countries like Turkey try to copy developed societies’ discourses, which feels like a bad joke. Obviously, those societies can afford to be hypocritical as they already have enough resources to cover them. It’s like the rich glorifying poverty to kill the competition. But when Turkish filmmakers start praising the same discourse, they just make their situation worse. As a result, they end up asking rich countries for special treatment and equality by begging for affirmative action in the name of diversity.

Of course, they claim to defend universal values, but, in fact, they just echo whatever is currently acceptable for institutions or artistic communities. So, they often make films that address trendy socio-political issues or exotic subjects to take advantage of this privilege, and then, they don’t hesitate to call themselves independent filmmakers. I am sick of all these films that show how tough life is in those exotic places or focus on the political and social chaos. No, I am not even questioning if they are realistic or not. They just seem a product of populism. They have become more about meeting expectations than offering a perspective of an independent mind: “Hey, we are poor and struggling. Give us money and a chance, and we will show you how tough life is and how miserable we are”.

Flaws and Virtues

When you point these issues out loud, people soon label you with a specific political ideology. That’s how things work. Yes, ideologies will always be in the game, but, in fact, I see each of us as a mix of flaws and virtues, not certain labels and identities. We sift each concept through a critical lens and it is our own unique perspective that creates distinct individuals with a mix of flaws and virtues. I like Nassim Taleb‘s take on this from the book Skin In The Game: “A saying by the brothers Geoff and Vince Graham summarizes the ludicrousness of scale-free political universalism. I am, at the Fed level, libertarian; at the state level, Republican; at the local level, Democrat; and at the family and friends level, a socialist. If that saying doesn’t convince you of the fatuousness of left vs. right labels, nothing will.”

Of course, I don’t personally adopt these definitions, but, to me, the whole saying captures the idea that each of us might have our own unique mix. So, in this sense, we might agree or disagree with specific actions or ideas of individuals or institutions rather than a categorical stance. For example, I don’t agree with the specific actions taken regarding inclusive identity politics or affirmative action in the festival-or-fund-oriented-film-industry. But, I can definitely support their implementation in a different context. What I observe is that they slowly suffocate the art of the cinema. That’s why I decided to make my stance clear. I added this statement to my company’s website, even though I am at risk of being canceled:

Micmuss Film Entertainment respects individuals and institutions that prioritize or require inclusive identity politics in their actions and collaborations. However, the company itself does not prioritize any specific form of identity politics or seek any advantageous, prestigious, or financial outcomes through them. We believe in collaborations based on merits rather than following trendy or guided politics.

Does that sound like a certain political ideology? Naturally, you may see traces of ideologies in it, but it primarily reflects a stance shaped by my virtues and flaws, rather than relying on specific socio-political labels. Many filmmakers, in fact, use those labels for self-promotion without creating deeper or broader perspectives on the topics. So, I don’t want to play the game with their rules.

Controlled Diversity

The name of the current promotion game is diversity. It is demanded, but since there is not enough (organic) variety in the basket, it has to be forced. To me, those diversity policies in art lead to superficiality and mediocrity. When you force it, the overall quality drops. Of course, I appreciate diversity of merit and talent, but not just diversity of backgrounds or identities for the sake of it. Defenders of these policies argue that underrepresented identities need to be favored so they can eventually catch up, even if their work is mediocre for now. But I don’t think that the change can come from favoritism or prioritization. To me, it only results in a controlled diversity, one that includes a spectrum of perspectives fitting specific identities and labels, rather than truly diverse talented filmmakers or cinematic variety.

You can test it yourself. Just look at the films in those up-and-coming filmmakers sections of recent film festivals. Initially, they appear to be a colorful collage of diversity. But when you dig a bit deeper into how these filmmakers identify themselves and the details of their films – the themes, subjects, and characters – you’ll find yourself trapped in a narrow range of labels that feels like NGO promotions: environmentalism, feminism/gender equality/womanhood, LGBTQ+, political activism, Anti-Russia, veganism, labor struggles, anti-colonialism, racial/ethnic/exotic identities, social justice, immigrant/refugee narratives.

I think that true diversity in art emerges when change happens as a whole. So, the right environment for artistic voices naturally develops. It goes slowly but surely. Perhaps diversity in art is influenced more by merchants, engineers, entrepreneurs, or scientists than by political activists, whether positively or negatively. In any case, to me, diversity can only be impactful when it reflects real change. Otherwise, it is just empty rhetoric. And, if applying these policies to art is also part of our human progress, I hope we can quickly close this chapter and look for the next challenges ahead. If it were up to me, I would adopt a completely neutral approach or at least a more balanced stance. Because guided policies often end up creating new marginalized groups. If you are an unknown name and don’t fit into the identity categories that are currently prioritized, it is really difficult to get noticed. Only well-known filmmakers seem to escape this trap.

Besides that, categorizing artists, even for the sake of diversity, is in itself a form of (institutionalized) discrimination. Favoring or prioritizing certain identities pushes the filmmakers into accepting an underdog role or status even if they are great talents. For example, if you present yourself as a victim of social injustice or are perceived as one because of your background, you might find it easier to get their acceptance.

Jumping off a Cliff

Okay, I understand that each of us (as filmmakers or artists) might have different priorities, so we won’t do just anything for financial gain or trendy opportunities. Nobody is stupid. But I still think that many filmmakers, especially aspiring ones, have a lack of honesty and introspection with the facts. They believe they are independent, but they are often more constrained than they realize. They look for institutional validation without even realizing it or they become fanatics of their -isms. In this sense, I personally appreciate any collaborators, such as festivals, distributors, and streaming services, that would promote my films on broad platforms. I am always eager to present my films for their evaluation (even if they rarely do so). But I don’t change my approach just to shine on these platforms. I don’t seek forced networking or backstage politics (the most I can do is send a cold email for a mutual collaboration). Because I observed and experienced how easily any influence could push me into self-censorship by shaping my ideas to fit the expectations of institutions or artistic communities.

Even as I write this blog post, the fear of being excluded by the godfathers of the independent film industry is on my mind, but I just put it aside. Because, once I expose any influence, only then I can remove them from my personal agenda. And I sincerely hope to move on from these topics soon, as I have spent too long on them. So, it is actually an attempt to become truly independent from any of these influences. Like jumping off a cliff, once you take that leap, you will inevitably learn how to fly. And then, perhaps you can consider yourself unbeatable in this regard, as you have already welcomed any failure it might bring. Meanwhile, any additional benefits will still be effective as a bonus. It is even more enjoyable as you achieve something without having to compromise.

Is this an effective approach? No. Does it satisfy me? Yes.

(Let me add that, although my attempts, I still don’t consider myself independent.)

Grapes and Livers

Some might say (have said actually) that my approach is just a psychological defense mechanism against failure (rationalization in short), like in the La Fontaine’s story where the fox calls the grapes sour because he can’t reach them (In Turkey, we use a cat and a liver to tell the same story). But, I am totally indifferent to those criticisms as I don’t see it as a matter of being unable to reach, but rather a matter of priorities aligned with my personal values (perhaps tastes) and of course, the nature of my works.

So, indeed, it is more of a strategy: I still adore the grapes, and of course, I want to be popular. I make my films for the audience, and I care about them. But it’s all about addressing an imaginary audience that could be anyone, from anywhere, at any time. So I avoid a populist attitude toward any specific individual, institution, or community. And, I observe that this approach is not suitable for the dominant self-promotion methods used by most independent filmmakers of today. I even view independent cinema as the new mainstream. So, instead, I personally prioritize a more passive way to gain organic followers (pollinators) who would truly appreciate my work. I don’t expect them to be elite art lovers or patrons, or to be involved in a category together. And, even if they don’t provide any benefit, just knowing that they find my work in the way I envision gives me personal satisfaction. They seem like real individuals and also more suitable candidates for my imaginary audience, rather than just empty labels or statistics.

Perhaps, this is the greatest success I can offer for now, and perhaps it is how I deceive myself, unlike the La Fontaine’s fox.