If you’re on Twitter, there’s a good chance you might have seen this tweet:
The replies are mixed at best, but when I saw it, the tweet resonated with a feeling I’ve held close to my chest for a long time now.
But you know, I think it’s time to talk about it.
Hi. My name is Shailyn Cotten, and I think the "work for free" model of breaking into the film and TV industry is bullshit. Welcome to my TED talk.
I've been weirdly blessed over the last couple years to get my TV pilot, After Oil, into a lot of fests. I've attended a lot of panels, and heard a lot of "successful" film and TV people chat about how they got their big break. They all have the same anecdote. And it's also the same thing every film school alum ever shared, when they were roped into giving a lecture for one of my disinterested college classes.
"I worked for free."
The consensus is that everyone does it. Gotta "pay your dues".
But working for free isn't "free". Someone is paying for it. And it's not the person who's employing you.
I don't doubt that everyone (for the most part) who's broken into this industry hasn't worked hard to get where they are. I don't doubt they put in 60 hour weeks or more, and are also insanely talented.
A lot of these people also carry around an unknown privilege, which invisibly buoys them throughout their career.
Money.
Everyone has a wildly different perspective on what it means to be "wealthy". To me at least, wealth means coming from a family that can afford to pay for or assist your cost of living independently. Or even dependently. Having parents who already live in the city of your business and are willing to provide for you while you work towards financial independence is a different form of privilege.
There is no such thing as working for free, because there is no such thing as living for free. And living in a city where there IS an industry - New York City or Los Angeles - isn't fucking cheap. There are some madly driven people in this industry who balance working enough hours to afford rent on their own while also juggling working freelance on productions. As commendable as this is, the bottom-line is that people who come from less shouldn’t be expected to sacrifice their well-being just to get work in their field.
Most productions, barring some student shorts and amateur films, expect that you drop almost everything to devote yourself wholly to their project for weeks or months at a time. The service job market in these film industry cities is flooded. It can be tough to find an employer who will pay you a living wage despite your disappearing for great chunks at a time.
It's hard enough these days to find a job that will pay you a living wage period. It's nearly impossible to work a full time and find the time to work a production on the side. That's two full time jobs for the price of one.
We deserve better.
We need to stop glorifying this shit. If you’ve done it, be fucking proud. But let’s not sit here and pretend that the systems that put these expectations into place benefit the people who need to have their stories told today. These systems were put into place to maintain the status quo of the elite and wealthy.
My stance on the matter is that the "work for free" model is classist at best, and misogynist and racist at worst. It is the first padlocked door that stands in the way of every minority breaking into this industry. It is the obstacle barring them from having their stories told.
So how do you dismantle this system? The “work for free” model is in many ways crucial to filmmaking. I would not have been able to produce After Oil without asking dozens of insanely overworked filmmakers - students and professionals alike - to work for nothing. I put all the money I had into that pilot, and if I ever want to produce another pilot - or any film - the sad matter of fact is, I may have to ask my friends to work for free again.
I want to believe that the payout is worth it. If we had not all sacrificed our time and money - because my friends did sacrifice money to make this with me, in the form of hours that could’ve been worked elsewhere - there would be one less pilot in the world with a Black bisexual woman in the lead, or one less pilot which deals with the complex struggles of poor rural communities embroiled with corrupt hydro-fracking operations.
But that doesn't mean we can't try to do better. So what does that look like?
If you have the money, spend the money. Make paying your cast and crew a priority. And yes. That means your PAs too.
Not every film student can afford to take a non-paying job, even within the "bubble" that is college. Budget for what it would take to make your production while paying your crew fairly. Explore crowdfunding and investors. It’s worth it. You should be making paying all crew a priority.
And if you're like me - deadass broke - but still want to be making films, do yourself and your crew a favor. Work with what you have, not with what you want. That means writing scripts that are five minutes long - ten max. That means writing for the locations you KNOW you have, not the ones you hope to get. That means working with the equipment you own or are certain you can borrow, even if it means taking a ding in quality. Working this way will a.) save yourself a whole load of grief, b.) make it easier to get people to crew for free, and c.) possibly enable you to PAY your crew. You'll probably wind up shooting more shit, and it will also probably end up being a much higher quality. Surprisingly, people are much more on their game when they are both fed well and paid fairly.
You want to talk about #MeToo? You want to talk about hiring women, LGBTQ+, and POC for your sets and writer's rooms?
Well, I'm sorry, but it doesn't trickle down. We need to rebuild the way this industry does things from the ground up. And that starts with you paying the people who work for you.
So, don’t get me wrong. Work for free to get your foot in the door. Work on productions for short films, preferably the sort of shoots that take place over a weekend or so. Work on sets that will compensate you for travel, and feed you well. Work for your friends. Work for projects you are deeply passionate about.
And then, when one day you have the money, give the money. Because we're worth more than nothing.
What do you think about unpaid internships and the work-for-free model in film and other industries? What do you think is the solution to moving to something more sustainable for diversity? Let me know in the comments below.
