The Death of Independent Cinema

My fellow creatives and all you people of diverse pronouns, Independent Cinema is dead. It’s like a ghost of its former self. Once it was a rebel, now it is a marketing tool, a plaything to amuse cinephiles. It has fallen into the trap of adopting certain standards as if it is a concrete genre. And as we know, standards often taint creativity and art.

But what was independent cinema? It simply emerged in an organic way: It was a label for films that dared to step outside the rigid studio system in the USA. Of course, this concept found kinship with the Auteur Theory, which emerged in France during the ’50s. Auteur Theory, alongside French New Wave, viewed directors as the driving creative force behind a film, each following their distinct approach. This newfound directorial freedom opened the way for the idea of ​​independent filmmaking. It found its stride in the ’70s in the USA and then reached its zenith in the ’90s. And, of course, it traveled the globe simultaneously.

Directors became the primary decision-makers, used their influence over every aspect of filmmaking, and stepped beyond their roles as hired hands. They financed their projects beyond the power of the major studios and produced films in their own right or held considerable control over the producers. Much like directors, some producers started to evolve into creative artists, and fresh, autonomous filmmaker personas blossomed.

Financial Puppetry

You know, autonomy without a financial foundation is just a mirage. So let’s take a closer look at what we label as independent films nowadays. These films often receive funding from many sources: production companies, governmental support, NGOs, film festivals, and private backers. Now, ask yourself, can a film truly be independent when it relies on such funding sources? And should film festivals, which have considerable financial influence, determine what gets showcased? Do they prioritize artistic authenticity and tenacity? Or do they prioritize sociopolitical trends, with the return on their investments serving as advertising components? Do they influence the production process?

Okay, as a filmmaker, I can confirm that they do not interfere with creative decisions during production, but have you ever considered the concept of self-censorship? In the search for funding, many filmmakers align themselves with the worldviews of these financial sources. They effectively censored themselves or conformed to trends. It’s a form of censorship that operates at its highest level in every corner of our world. And, of course, those trends align with the sociopolitical rhythms. Filmmakers have to sacrifice their autonomy to appease certain groups or avoid offending them.

And there is a side effect. Whether large or small, many underground festivals, some of which don’t even bother with physical screenings, generate significant revenues from entry fees, all because of the attraction of the festival system in the eyes of upcoming filmmakers. They give plenty of awards so that filmmakers can use them as promotional material. Lacking depth, lacking quality, lacking anything of substance or merit.

International Fish Markets

To me, all of these are reminiscent of the Hollywood Antitrust Case of 1948, in which the Supreme Court condemned the monopolistic practices of the big five U.S. production companies. As a result, they made the decision to separate production and distribution businesses and even instituted a ban on production companies owning their own theaters for screening their films (some even claim that the progress of independent cinema has accelerated after this case). And today, film festivals seem to be cooking up their own version of those old ’40s monopolies, but with subtler tactics.

Surely, festivals aren’t directly involved in film distribution; they serve as promotion bridges, but their influence goes further. They influence the creation of content from the very early stages of screenplay development. They cherry-pick projects to showcase in film forums (that literally feels like fish markets). Then they support projects that align with their vision and preferences, guided by superficial decisions in a short amount of time. In other words, they indirectly order films that they want to screen.

Of course, they claim they are all about freedom and diversity, but at every stage, they focus on the films’ sociopolitical stances. It’s a sneaky kind of gatekeeping because, as a filmmaker, you are never sure what you are up against. You might offend someone or be condemned at any moment. You know, this is harder than dealing with a strict authority because authorities are predictable, and one can always find creative ways to resist them (like Iranian filmmakers who created a new kind of cinema under oppression).

But fighting the festival system? Pointless. It is an unpredictable and self-reinforcing one. If you are in, they soon label you according to their expectations. They try to figure out if you could be included in their acceptable spectrum of diversity. You can be anything, but never be independent. The worst part is that festivals just copy each other and create a kind of monopoly that traps us in a cycle where true innovation struggles to break through, and instead, mediocrity gets all the rewards (actually, streaming services also follow a similar path, but that’s another issue).

Of course, this festival fund system, often linked with independent cinema, played an important role in developing an alternative method of film production. However, it has devolved into financial manipulation and a kind of new mainstream for filmmakers. And, to me, it is an already-explored path that no longer fits an independent approach.

Politi-tricks Filmmaking

Another matter to consider is the charm of independent cinema on the political stage. When independent cinema brought a fresh approach to production, naturally, it leaned towards a more socialist outlook. Some filmmakers were eager to explore independent cinema as a political medium against the profit-driven film industry. But today, diverse political ideologies use independent cinema primarily for promotional purposes.

Filmmakers proudly advocate people’s rights, and they parade as activists, leftists, socialists, feminists, environmentalists, and so on and so forth. Then they, of course, reassure that they are not all about the big wins. But beneath it all, every filmmaker is still a soft capitalist. We pump our capital into our films, hire a crew, source funds from liberal capitalist countries, and potentially look for profits. Funny how no one wants to accept that label. It’s a certain lack of honesty and introspection (or it is a wise strategy as anti-capitalist discourse always finds a market among a specific audience).

Festivals are playgrounds for hypocrites. In the front row, we have this lively parade of diverse individuals, each with their unique colors and beats. But backstage, there is this one superstar worldview of the current trend that strums its own solo tune. Of course, your voice is free, but it’s fenced in. They are ready to shut you out when you wander into their guarded territories of socio-political discourse. Yes, even being different comes with its own set of unwritten guidelines. The fresh term for herd psychology is solidarity. And if you don’t join the club, you might just find the door quietly and gently closed. After all, nobody wants to carry the burden of a discriminatory label, so everyone smiles at you as if they have just downed a potent cocktail of Xanax.

(Hey, I don’t claim that every single festival absolutely fits this exact pattern. I just hope you can find some value in the fractions of my observations. And, perhaps I did myself a disservice with these comments. But I am eager to explore if their spectrum of acceptance in diversity is broad enough to welcome me. I am also indifferent to any criticisms that are reminiscent of La Fontaine’s fable about the fox deeming the unreachable grapes as sour. I am the risk-taker here, and when I attain any grapes, it means I am not the one compromising. You could view it as a strategic decision to become independent from any of these organizations. Like jumping off a cliff, once you take that leap, you will inevitably learn how to fly.)

Painter of Pictures or Spreader of Words

Now, I am afraid that this system destroys the notion of the artist in cinema. Gombrich, the author of The Story of Art, began his book with the statement that “Art itself doesn’t exist, there are only artists”. Likewise, there is no such thing as cinema, there are filmmakers. And these people don’t always need to go after socio-political causes. To me, artists are not loud activists. They are whisperers who raise empathy within us in the long term: Their grinder turns slowly but grinds finely.

After all, isn’t the outcome of most activism oddly uniform? People react, tell a few friends, and momentarily raise their awareness, but the world’s issues persist and demand concrete actions. We have come a long way from our hunter ancestors who constantly dealt with solving survival problems, but today, we have evolved into creatures who try to tackle problems by declaring cliché statements and spreading hashtags. These activities seem like a contemporary form of religious rituals that offer to comfort people rather than a quest for solutions. (Indeed, art, seen through this lens, can also function as a contemporary faith that turns us into passive observers, but, to me, the key distinction lies in the fact that true art/artist doesn’t pretend to be a solver of problems.)

A Ninja in a Library during a Rock Concert

Perhaps, we should refrain from labeling a film as an independent work if it is not financially independent. But, again, regardless of the terminology we choose, the question remains: How can we pursue our artistic visions independently? Surely, total independence appears unattainable. But at least we can communicate our intentions honestly. Filmmakers who call themselves independent often label their works with socio-political terms to attract festival programmers and audiences. But most of the time, these labels are devoid of any artistic substance: they feel like NGO promotions. In this regard, mainstream cinema seems more honest. They create films with clear objectives and promises to the audience, and the audience knows precisely what to expect. We might not admire this transaction from an artistic perspective, but we can’t deny its honesty.

And perhaps, it’s time to seek out alternative financial ways to pursue our personal agenda. Thanks to technological leaps, filmmaking has become more democratic with affordable cameras and computers. The Internet already serves as a stage for self-distribution (though I must confess, I have a soft spot for a film theater). There are online platforms where creative individuals support and collaborate with each other to meet their financial needs. Also, financial technologies make it easier for us to choose the right investments and achieve financial stability without relying on specific film funds for every new project. It may not be the alternative to independent cinema, but let’s acknowledge its honesty. In the future, film historians might find a catchy term for films made this way. And when that happens, it will be a signal to bury the concept of that term too, and start hunting for a fresh approach.