29 Apr THE VALUE OF TIME
There are very few cliches in the film world that are more accurate than ‘time is money.’
Every moment on the film set is either moving the project forward, or delaying some necessary next step. Five minutes per hour of delays will really impact a day’s productivity, which means the investor’s money was not well spent. Of course, filmmaking is a creative process, involving hundreds of people, which means there will be an ebb and flow of pace every day. Yet, without a diligent commitment to time management, the project will eventually be forced into avoidable compromises.
But, I’m going to step away from focusing on filmmaking itself to address one of the biggest questions that a producer needs to personally answer: ‘What is the value of my time?’
When I first got into filmmaking, it seemed completely natural that almost all my waking hours and energy would go into the projects that I was developing or writing. I was furiously trying to pry open the universe to create a miraculous opportunity for myself. In fact, the more taxation on my time, the more it felt like something substantial was happening in my career. But the biggest lesson that I’ve learned (at great expense) is that money doesn’t equal time when it comes to happiness.
The great equalizer for all of us is that we only have so many hours in the day. As we get older, build relationships, or grow a family, there are crucial life obligations that naturally take away your creative hours. When work obligations force you to take time away from your personal life, those hours start to reveal their true value. Moreover, if your work hours are dedicated to a project, people or environment that you do not feel passionate about, you are in an endless zero sum game.
In such a case, it becomes a purely capitalist exchange where the focus is on the money you’re being paid as the only value for your time. Yet, I’ve found that there is a tipping point where the money paid for my time could never make up for a toxic work environment or an uninspired creative project.
For a person driven by a creative gene (or cursed by it), their hourly worth is not just the average of their weekly salary. It is a combination of money, creative environment, and an inspirational group of people. Even if the allure of a big paycheck makes up for these other variables, the project will take a significant toll on you when a sixteen hour workday, week after week, provides no other compensation. These are the painful circumstances where your focus can only be on the money in your pocket, rather than the task in front of you.
This often leads to a sizable disconnect between the financing producers and the rest of the team. For those who only see weekly salaries as payment for their crews’ hours away from home, they are setting the tone for disharmony and turmoil on that film set.
In my practical experience, I have never heard anyone on a film set complain about their salary when they are showing up to a joyous environment, with supportive people, who are all working on a project that inspires them. Everyone knows their daily wage before day one of the shoot, but the real variable is the unknown work experience ahead of them.
Conversely, I’ve heard financing producers often exclaim their frustration with a crew member who is complaining about their working environment. Most often that complaint is met with a variation of, ‘you should be appreciative of the job because I am paying you above the rate for the position’ — or— ‘I could have gotten someone else to work for less.’ Rarely is there ever a response to a complaint that acknowledges that the working environment is providing no additional form of compensation.
I’ve been a part of films where crews were not paid for weeks, but their passion for the project and the people around them actually saved the project. In equal measure, I’ve been involved with projects that paid every penny on time, but the crew was never happy.
If you are forging ahead to build your producing brand, I directly challenge you to see your time as important and as valuable as everyone that you bring onto your project.
For your own sake and for the benefit of all those around you, focus on ways to pay everyone with an environment that is rich with creativity, inspiration and joy.
When the film is well in your rear view mirror, what will stick with everyone on that project is the value you gave to their time. And if you do it well—they might even feel that they were overpaid.