好莱坞的纪录片《繁荣》是一件好事吗?
Is Hollywood’s Documentary Boom Too Much of a Good Thing?
曾几何时,要求观众观看纪录片就像要他们做作业或吃西兰花一样 - 当然,这对'em会很好,但是他们可能不会有很多乐趣文档通常会被繁重的主题(大量战争内容)和干燥,直截了当的演示(想想新闻媒体)所压制。最终,电影制片人开始引入电影的触感和更多的动态,尽管进展缓慢。 1922年,“北部的Nanook”,第一个特色文档,结合了上演和虚构的元素。六十年代带来了直接的电影院和电影院,这是梅斯勒斯兄弟(Maysles Brothers)的墙壁风格,罗伯特·德鲁(Robert Drew),D.A。 Pennebaker,还有许多其他。在八十年代和九十年代,有线电视纪录片扩大到了广泛的观众,并在2000年代初期的电影《华氏9/11》,《企鹅三月》和《不便的真相》等电影中成为合法的票房。尽管如此,总体上的类型在大型好莱坞一家人中有一个继子……直到现在。随着流媒体的出现以及随之而来的资金涌入 - 如今的纪录片和系列已经变得无处不在,而且像优质的脚本票价一样享有盛誉。该类别是Netflix,Hulu,Amazon和YouTube等商业模型的基石,为新鲜的声音和资深电影制片人打开大门,以产生比以往任何时候都更大,更广泛的工作。从关于交战大型猫爱好者(“老虎国王”)到陷入困境的流行歌星(“构架布兰妮·斯皮尔斯”)到公司内爆(“ WeWork:或者是4700万美元的独角兽的制作和破坏”),观众几乎可以找到任何任何东西摩根·内维尔(Morgan Neville)说,当他们想要时,他们可能想要的一个非小说故事的故事。 2014年和MOST最近导演了“ Roadrunner:关于Anthony Bourdain的电影”。“作为过去28年来资助的纪录片的人,过去的八年一直是白天和白天。”摩根内维尔的纪录片“ Roadrunner”的Anthony Bourdain。开始于2013年创建原始内容。彩带的第一个主要DOC收购是“广场”,讲述了2011年埃及的阿拉伯春季革命。这部电影在2014年带来了Netflix的首个奥斯卡金像奖提名。“我们一直相信这种形式,” Netflix独立电影和纪录片副总裁Lisa Nishimura说。“纪录片人现在可以平等地访问了历史上为其他格式保留的受众。实际上,最大的挑战是[过去]的分配机制是深层分散和不一致的。这创造了一个潜在受众的环境那些喜欢这些故事的人面临着与他们交往的障碍。付费日的巨大跃升为许多纪录片人提供了他们继续创新所需的安全网。两届奥斯卡金像奖提名人利兹·加布斯(Liz Garbus)说,他是一位20岁的行业资深人士,他指导了Netflix首次委托的原创纪录片《 2015年发生的事情》,他说:“西蒙蒙小姐?” “现在人们知道他们可以将纪录片制作成一个职业。他们可以从助手开始,成为一名助理制片人,然后进入现场。总监乔·贝林格(Joe Berlinger)的第一部专题文档“兄弟的门将”于1992年在PBS上发行。 “那时,如果您没有将长篇纪录片出售给HBO或PBS,而是您没有出售纪录片。”贝林格说。“这些是镇上唯一的游戏,这不是一项有利可图的业务。当然,如果眼球不在那里支持它,彩带就不会支持这一动作。事实是,最近几年证明,观众对非小说内容的渴望和脚本戏剧,喜剧,传记片和其他内容一样渴望 - 最后,好莱坞使这些故事变得可以访问。您的纪录片曾经大规模发行。”非小说类电影和电视工作室XTR的创始人Bryn Mooser说。“现在,每天,由于流媒体,纪录片具有与好莱坞大片相同的分布。”“免费独奏”吉米·奇(Jimmy Chin/National Geagraphiccarolyn BernsteinMentary Films是许多著名纪录片的背后,包括2019年奥斯卡奖得主“ Free Solo”,关于摇滚乐手Alex Honnold,以及即将推出的“ Fauci”,由John Hoffman和Janet Tobias执导。她认为,这种表格终于摆脱了受教育意义的污名,以牺牲娱乐为代价。“人们不再在文档和叙事讲故事之间做出区分,”她说。 “很棒的故事是很棒的故事。” Showtime的非小说类节目执行副总裁Vinnie Malhotra同意:“几年前,谈话是,这是纪录片的黄金时代?那个纪录片曾扮演着不同的光环和能量。这并不是说在社会问题上照亮观众的老式[想法]。随着电影制片人的发展,故事开始发展。这是一个急需的手臂,呈指数成倍增长。” PBS的执行制片人迈克尔·坎托(Michael Kantor)ICAN Masters”专营权,认为一支驱动力是对诚实的渴望。坎托说:“人们渴望真相。” “在过去几年中,人们对媒体的不信任,由独立制片人制作的纪录片(不与某些大公司保持一致)被视为说出权力真相。”但是,繁荣并非没有繁荣它的并发症。一些行业的坚定者警告说,这种趋势可能会损害观众奖励的诚信。因为金钱的发展,杠杆随之而来。 PBS的长期纪录片展示“独立镜头”的执行制片人Lois Vossen指出,纪录片“现在已经成为商品,这既好又坏。 “谁控制了纪录片?现在有钱的人正在影响内容。角色正在影响内容。拥有镜头的执行制片人正在影响内容。因此,这是一个令人兴奋的时刻,但就纪录片的核心而言,这也是一个非常有趣的时刻。数据驱动的流媒体可以准确地跟踪谁在看什么,这反过来又可以缩小电影制片人的机会领域,因为底线的高管倾向于他们所知道的工作。在大流行的锁定期间,观众无法获得足够的故事,例如Netflix的“内部杀手:亚伦·埃尔南德斯的思想”,关于新英格兰爱国者的紧张罪名是被判谋杀罪,以及“加布里埃尔·费尔南德斯的审判”,关于一个八岁的加利福尼亚男孩在他的看护人的手中残酷死亡。亚历克斯·吉布尼(Alex Gibney),2008年获得奥斯卡奖的总监o黑暗的一面。” “ Netflix和其他平台说,‘它可以与我们的算法一起使用。’就像他们试图科学地衡量哪些程序对人有用。在这种情况下,真正的犯罪似乎直接与ID联系在一起。”“这是一次谋杀和真实的犯罪繁荣,” MTV纪录片电影负责人希拉·内文斯(Sheila Nevins)说。 “推动世界并试图使您热爱的社会文档,并改善了环境 - 过去十年的社会文档可能没有增加。发现的是谋杀的欲望,谋杀的日常生活。除了鲜活的时间,这是一个肥沃的时间,使电影制片人比以往任何时候都更加忙碌。经验丰富的纪录片人萨姆·波拉德(Sam Pollard)于2020年发行了五部分纪录片(“亚特兰大的失踪和谋杀:失落的孩子”),并在一月份发行了一份著作(“ MLK/FBI”);他打算今年再发布三个文档,包括“公民阿什”,关于网球传奇人物亚瑟·阿什(Arthur Ashe)。波拉德说:“那里的工作太多了,很难找到编辑。”“约翰·刘易斯:好麻烦”木兰照片导演Dawn Porter也一直在委托。她去年发行了两部电影,《焦点》上有“我的观看方式”,讲述了前白宫摄影师皮特·苏扎(Pete Souza)和木兰影业(Magnolia Pictures)的“约翰·刘易斯:好麻烦”,内容涉及已故的民权活动家。尽管如此,她还是像Pollard一样令人兴奋的时刻,承认总体上是一个积极趋势的另一个潜在的缺点:所有正在鼓舞的工作都可能一遍又一遍地去同一个人,那些拥有成功记录的人 - 通常是来自更大特权的人。这使电影制片人来自更广泛的种族和种族背景。“目前对我们的行业的挑战,”纪录片繁荣的波特说,“是为了确保这是一个TIde抬起了所有的船只。这是看着行业退伍军人的谨慎的看法。“在过去的几年中,我听说人们说纪录片的黄金时代已经变成了纪录片的公司时代,”多伦多国际电影节纪录片程序员托姆·鲍尔斯(Thom Powers)说。 “这是一个很好的持怀疑态度的镜头,因为这是我们必须密切关注讲故事的力量。”该表格已经与颁奖典礼交织在一起,以至于一些纪录片制片人 - 以及支持的公司支持的公司支持。他们 - 近年来与奥斯卡和艾美奖的竞选活动两次。今年早些时候,电视学院改变了其规则,以关闭该漏洞。该规则在2022年生效。“如果您想了解这些公司的业务方面,当涉及纪录片的价值时,您要做的就是查看奥斯卡竞选活动,”“ Fauci” Co说。 - 导演约翰·霍夫曼(John Hoffman)。 “为什么如果纪录片对他们和他们的商业模式不重要,他们为什么要花费那种显然花费的钱。您确实需要归功于希拉·内文斯(Sheila Nevins)确实有助于塑造企业对纪录片如何定义的理解。吉布尼指出:“三十年前,当我去工作时,我被告知不要使用纪录片。”娱乐律师迈克尔·唐纳森(Michael Donaldson)回忆起国际纪录片协会的内部讨论,他在八十年代初担任董事会成员。唐纳森说:“会议上经常讨论的一件事是为纪录片找到另一个名字。” “这个词的印象如此。”尽管DOC市场“爆炸”以包括许多不同的格式和主题,但发行非小说类电影仍然具有挑战性 - 尤其是对于新兴电影制片人而言。在纪录片中,与其他行业一样,机会可能首先流向具有长期记录的人。”加布斯说。“但是,这是我们这些确实有机会举起他人的人的责任。这个故事的一个版本出现在TruthSeekers,这是一个多样性和滚石的联合项目中。
Once upon a time, asking audiences to watch a documentary was like asking them to do their homework or eat their broccoli — sure, it’d be good for ’em, but they probably wouldn’t have a ton of fun doing it.
Early docs were often weighed down by heavy topics (a lot of war content) and dry, straightforward presentations (think newsreels). Eventually, filmmakers began introducing cinematic touches and more dynamism to documentary storytelling, though progress was slow. In 1922, “Nanook of the North,” the first feature doc, incorporated staged and fictionalized elements. The Sixties brought direct cinema and cinema verité, the fly-on-the-wall style of the Maysles brothers, Robert Drew, D.A. Pennebaker, and so many others. In the Eighties and Nineties, cable expanded documentary’s reach to wider audiences, and in the early 2000s films like “Fahrenheit 9/11,” “March of the Penguins,” and “An Inconvenient Truth” became legitimate box-office breakthroughs. Still, the genre on the whole remained something of a stepchild within the larger Hollywood family ... until now.
With the advent of streaming — and the influx of funding that’s come with it — documentary features and series today have become as ubiquitous, and as prestigious, as premium scripted fare. The category is a cornerstone of the business model for outlets like Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, and YouTube, opening doors for fresh voices as well as veteran filmmakers to produce more, and more wide-ranging, work than ever before. From docs about warring big-cat lovers (“Tiger King”) to beleaguered pop stars (“Framing Britney Spears”) to corporate implosions (“WeWork: Or the Making and Breaking of a $47 Million Unicorn”), viewers can find virtually any kind of nonfiction story they could ever want, whenever they want it.
“Streaming has been the game changer,” says Morgan Neville, who won the feature documentary Oscar for his close-up on professional backup singers, “20 Feet From Stardom,” in 2014, and most recently directed “Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain.” “As somebody who has been getting documentaries funded for the last 28 years, the last eight years have been night and day.”
Netflix has had documentaries in its sights since it first began creating original content in 2013. The streamer’s first major doc acquisition was “The Square,” about the 2011 Arab Spring revolution in Egypt. The film brought Netflix its first Academy Award nomination in 2014.
“We’ve always believed in the form,” says Lisa Nishimura, Netflix’s vice president of independent film and documentary features. “Documentarians now have equal access to an audience that historically was reserved for other formats. The biggest challenge, really, was that the distribution mechanism [in the past] was deeply fragmented and inconsistent. That created an environment where potential audiences that would love these stories faced hurdles to engage [with them].”
With more buyers in the marketplace on the development side, the money available to filmmakers for budgets and license fees ballooned. That significant jump in paydays gave a number of documentarians the safety net they needed to continue to innovate.
“When I was starting out, it was like you either had a sugar daddy who was helping you finance your films or you were making films in addition to your real job,” says two-time Academy Award nominee Liz Garbus, a 20- year industry veteran who directed Netflix’s first commissioned original documentary, 2015’s “What Happened, Miss Simone?” “Now people know that they [can] make documentary filmmaking a career. They can start out as an assistant, become an associate producer, and then get out into the field. The whole industry has become really mature.”
Director Joe Berlinger’s first feature doc, “Brother’s Keeper,” was released in 1992 on PBS. “Back then, if you didn’t sell your feature-length documentary to HBO or PBS, you weren’t selling your documentary,” Berlinger says. “Those were the only games in town, and it was not a profitable business. I made commercials to stay afloat.”
Of course, streamers wouldn’t be backing this movement if the eyeballs weren’t there to support it. The fact is, the last several years have proved that audiences are as hungry for non-fiction content as they are for scripted dramas, comedies, biopics, and the rest — and finally, Hollywood is making those stories accessible.
“For the first time ever with documentaries you have distribution at scale,” says Bryn Mooser, founder of nonfiction film and television studio XTR. “Now, every single day, because of streaming, documentaries have the same distribution as Hollywood blockbusters.”
Carolyn Bernstein, National Geographic’s executive vice president of global scripted content and documentary films, is behind many prominent documentaries, including the 2019 Oscar winner “Free Solo,” about rock climber Alex Honnold, and the upcoming “Fauci,” directed by John Hoffman and Janet Tobias. She believes the form has finally escaped the stigma of being educational at the expense of entertaining.
“People aren’t making a distinction anymore between docs and narrative storytelling,” she says. “Great stories are great stories.”
Vinnie Malhotra, Showtime’s executive vice president of nonfiction programming, agrees: “A few years ago, the conversation was, ‘Is this the golden age of documentary?’ But I think what was trying to be conveyed was that documentary had taken on a different aura and energy. It wasn’t so much the old-school [idea] of illuminating audiences on a social issue. As filmmakers evolved the craft, the stories started to evolve. It was a much-needed shot in the arm to the genre that grew the audience exponentially.”
Michael Kantor, executive producer of PBS’ “American Masters” franchise, believes that one driving force is a yearning for honesty. “People are desperate for the truth,” Kantor says. “There is a distrust of the media that’s been cultivated in the last few years, and the documentary film produced by an independent producer, who’s not aligned with some big corporation, is seen as speaking truth to power.”
But the boom is not without its complications. Some industry stalwarts warn that the trend could compromise the very integrity that audiences prize.
Because where money goes, leverage follows. Lois Vossen, executive producer of PBS’ long-running documentary showcase “Independent Lens,” notes that documentaries “have now become a commodity, and that is both good and bad.
“The journalistic rigor is something that’s being questioned,” Vossen continues. “Who has control of the documentary? People with money now are influencing content. Characters are influencing the content. Executive producers who own footage are influencing the content. So, it’s an exciting time, but it’s also a really interesting time in terms of the heart of what documentary is.”
And, in a world where the almighty algorithm rules, creativity and originality might be at risk. Data-driven streamers can track exactly who’s watching what — which, in turn, could narrow the field of opportunity for filmmakers, as bottom-line-minded executives lean into what they know works.
Currently, it seems, what works is true crime. During the pandemic lockdown, audiences couldn’t get enough of grisly tales such as Netflix’s “Killer Inside: The Mind of Aaron Hernandez,” about the New England Patriots tight end convicted of murder, and “The Trials of Gabriel Fernandez,” about the brutal death of an eight-year-old California boy at the hands of his caretakers.
“Providers of programming, going way back to studios, are always trying to find formulas that are surefire and will work over and over and over again,” notes Alex Gibney, director of 2008’s Oscar-winning “Taxi to the Dark Side.” “Netflix and other platforms say, ‘It works with our algorithm.’ Like they are trying to scientifically measure exactly what kinds of programs are going to work for people. Within that context, true crime seems to connect directly to the id.”
“It’s a murder and true-crime boom,” says Sheila Nevins, head of MTV documentary films. “Social docs that nudge the world and try to make you love the have-nots and improve the environment — those have probably not increased in the last decade. What’s been discovered is the lust of murder, the everydayness of murder. There’s something about your neighbor cutting off the head of her husband that’s particularly enticing.”
Bloodlust aside, it’s a fertile time industrywide, keeping filmmakers busier than ever. Veteran documentarian Sam Pollard released a five-part docuseries (“Atlanta’s Missing and Murdered: The Lost Children”) in 2020 and a feature in January (“MLK/FBI”); he’s set to release three more docs this year, including “Citizen Ashe,” about tennis legend Arthur Ashe. “There’s so much work out there,” Pollard says, “it’s hard to find the editors.”
Director Dawn Porter has been on a roll with commissions, too. She released two films last year, Focus Features’ “The Way I See It,” about former White House photographer Pete Souza, and Magnolia Pictures’ “John Lewis: Good Trouble,” about the late civil-rights activist. As exciting a moment as it is, she, like Pollard, acknowledges another potential downside to what overall is a positive trend: All the work that’s being drummed up may be going to the same people over and over, those with proven track records for success — who are often those who come from greater privilege. This leaves filmmakers from a wider array of racial and ethnic backgrounds behind.
“The challenge for our industry right now,” says Porter of the documentary boom, “is to make sure that it’s a tide that lifts all boats.”
With more money and awards at stake, business pressures on documentaries have grown. And that bears watching, industry veterans caution.
“Over the last few years, I’ve heard people says the golden age of documentaries has turned into the corporate age of documentaries,” says Toronto International Film Festival Documentary programmer, Thom Powers. “That’s a good skeptical lens to apply because that is a force in what shapes our storytelling now that we've got to pay close attention to.”
The form has become so intertwined with the awards circuit that some documentary filmmakers – and the companies backing them – have been double-dipping with Oscar and Emmy campaigns in recent years. Earlier this year, the TV Academy changed its rules to close that loophole; the rule goes into effect in 2022.
“If you want to understand the business side of these companies, when it comes to the value of documentaries, all you have to do is look at Oscar campaigns,” says “Fauci” co-director John Hoffman. “Why would they be spending the kind of money that's clearly being spent if documentaries weren't important to them and their business model. You really need to credit Sheila Nevins for really helping to shape corporate understanding of how documentaries can be brand defining.”
It's a heady change for veteran documentary filmmakers. “Thirty years ago, when out for a job, I was advised not use the word documentary,” Gibney notes.
Entertainment lawyer Michael Donaldson recalls internal discussions at the International Documentary Association, where he served as a board member, in the early eighties.
“One of the things that was discussed frequently at meetings was finding another name for documentaries,” Donaldson says. “The word had such a negative impression.”
While the doc market has “exploded” to include many different formats and topics, getting nonfiction films distributed can still be challenging – especially for emerging filmmakers.
“It's not surprising that in documentary, like in other industries, the opportunities may flow first to those with long track records,” Garbus says. “But it's incumbent upon those of us who do have opportunities to lift up others. Especially those who have historically not been afforded those opportunities.”
A version of this story appeared in TruthSeekers, a joint project of Variety and Rolling Stone.
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