Chapter 2

I am setting aside Chapter 1 for now and jumping straight to Chapter 2. It usually makes sense to talk about conceptualizing and writing a movie before discussing budgeting and fundraising for it. However, there is an element of mystery surrounding “Lost Cause” and I like it that way. I want to build anticipation for the film as it slowly enters the world in the coming months and years, and I want audiences to be surprised when they finally see it.

So let’s set aside the screenwriting process for now and instead talk about the icky, essential fuel that powers the whole operation: money.

Budgeting

Filmmaking is prohibitively expensive. Even a micro-budget movie is a serious investment. I hate raising money. Were I a rich man, I’d fund the work myself in cash. Alas, I am not a rich man, so fundraising and personal debt it is.

As I write a script, I often consider the reality of making it. In particular, I think about how much things cost and how I can say what I need to say with as little as possible. If a scene takes place inside the windowless engine compartment of a train, is an exterior shot of the train yard really necessary? When you are both writer and producer of a project, it is a constant dance between dreaming big and being realistic.

Once I have a solid script in place, I create three budgets for the project: the maximum budget, the minimum budget and the compromise budget. The maximum budget is dreamy, the minimum scrappy, and the compromise attempts to find a middle ground. In my personal experience, you hope for the maximum but usually end up somewhere between compromise and minimum.

I start by working through the script, first by myself, then with key collaborators. I visualize each scene and try to anticipate needs and challenges. I organize a tentative shooting schedule and estimate how long things could and should take. I call production houses and get a lot of preliminary quotes. Numbers are going to be squishy at the beginning. It is the producer’s responsibility to make them as solid as possible as early as possible.

The budget of a film need not be overly complex. It does not need a million lines or color-coding. It just needs to be clear and include everything the film requires to reach completion. My advice is: understand the scale and scope of your film, be ambitious but realistic about what is possible, then craft the budget accordingly.

The budget for a film iterates; it evolves and reaches its final form in much the same way a script does. Some factors are within your control; others are not. Sometimes there is room for negotiation; other times dumb costs must be eaten. As shoot dates draw near and things become real, each draft of the budget gets closer to accurate. The producer should try to update the budget every couple days as details begin to materialize and the production comes into focus.

Pitch Decks

As I develop the budget, I also create a pitch deck. A well-designed pitch deck helps potential investors and collaborators better understand how the film will look and feel in its final form. Once I have a master pitch deck with all the necessary slides, I create duplicates that are personalized based on the recipient. I continue to update the deck all the way though production. Moving forward, I also use content from the deck as a jumping-off point for website copy, festival submissions, the distribution and marketing strategy, electronic press kits and more.

The Lost Cause pitch deck included the following slides:

1. Table of Contents - It is important to present information to your investors and collaborators as clearly and logically as possible. A table of contents is one way to show you know how to organize and communicate your ideas with efficiency and style. If you cannot manage a pitch deck, how can you manage a film set?

2. Tag Line - What would it say on the poster?

3. Log Line/Short Synopsis - I think a few sentences is sufficient for most decks. A long synopsis can be included but is not necessary for every project. If somebody is intrigued and wants to know the full story, send them the script. If the plot of the film is particularly complicated, a long synopsis might be useful upfront for potential investors and collaborators. I included a longer synopsis in my pitch deck because Lost Cause is a meta-narrative with a complex structure.

4. Filmmaker’s Statement - This section is the gut punch. It is your chance to succinctly communicate your vision for the film, why it matters now more than ever and why you are the best person for the job.

5. Release Plan (aka Distribution and Marketing Strategy) - I subtitled this section “Hitting the Zeitgeist”. I explained how Lost Cause is set in and about America in 2025, and releasing it in 2025 would allow the film to participate in some important national conversations I imagined and anticipated we would be having at the time. Though I started writing the film in 2020, it accurately predicts much of what we are currently facing as a country. I did not include the nitty-gritty of our release plan in the deck even though it is ultimately essential to the film’s success. I developed our release plan as a document separate from the pitch deck, and would share it with prospective investors who knew about and were truly interested in stuff like release windows and audience building.

6. Cast - Updated with photos and bios as cast members sign on to the project.

7. Crew - Photos and bios of key collaborators as the team takes shape.

8. References - a combination of words and images, illustrating the aesthetic of the film. An attempt to communicate the sources we are drawing from, what inspires us about them and how Lost Cause will borrow from and build on these sources to create a look that matches and heightens our story. I utilize film stills but also paintings, photographs and magazine spreads. Sometimes I super-impose dialogue from the script atop images.

Text from Lost Cause pasted on a still from Louis Malle’s Vanya on 42nd St.

Fundraising

Once I had a pitch deck and budget to accompany my script and demos, I reached out to an investor I had worked with previously. Up to this point, I had been paying for everything out of my own pocket.

I was able to raise enough money from this investor to hire a casting director and start the casting process. I knew our final budget would increase or decrease based on the bankability of the talent involved. The maximum budget comes into play when an actor joins the project who makes an investor see dollar signs. I wanted to make sure we had a good casting director who could ensure the script would be read and seriously considered by A-list actors.

The problem is: A-list actors do not work on micro-budget movies. Producers and investors convince each other it happens and goad one another into confusing their hopes with reality. Filmmakers, with their gift-curse egos, say “so-and-so actor hasn’t done a true indie in 25 years, but they haven’t read MY script yet.” And investors, with their steadfast devotion to past magic, dangle the max budget in front of filmmakers and say “you can have this money but only if so-and-so actor signs on to your film.”

I will discuss our casting process at length in chapter 3. For now, it is important to know that I eventually decided to cast actors who I thought were right for the roles, regardless of their perceived value to investors. As a result, some investors became less interested in the project and walked back their investments substantially.

The movie needed to premiere by 2025 to have the best possible chance at finding an audience and breaking even. This deadline was of the utmost importance to the project’s success. The maximum budget was long gone and even the compromise budget was out of the question. I knew I would need to make Lost Cause for as little money as possible, while of course maintaining ethical and artistic integrity.

I also knew raising any amount would be challenging, and accepted that whatever I could not raise I would somehow pay for myself.

Personal Debt

I was talking to my mentor — a very successful older director — a few months ago. “Do you ever put your own money into a project?” I asked him.

“Fundraising is always too slow,” he responded. “Sometimes a project needs money now. Investors don’t have a sense of urgency. I’m about to put $50,000 into a project on the verge of shutting down. I don’t have children. These projects are my children.”

I ended up raising a significant percentage of the total budget from two trustworthy investors I had worked with previously. I spoke with other investors, but nobody wanted to support an indie musical that did not have A-list talent attached or an A-list festival premiere secured. “If you get into TIFF let me know,” one prospective (and well-respected) financier told me. “I know an investor interested in finishing funds for the top tiers festivals.”

I raised an additional 10% of the budget from family and friends, and put in as much of my own money as I could afford. I then opened a credit card with an introductory offer of 0% APR for 12 months (plus $1000 cashback after spending $3000). This line of credit gave me the wiggle room I needed to get through post-production.

We shot the film in 2024; post-production wrapped in July 2025. In the past 18 months, I have paid off about half the debt incurred to make and finish Lost Cause. I am using the finished film to continue fundraising so I do not have to foot the entire bill myself. Just before the introductory offer expired and a higher interest kicked in, I transferred the remaining debt to a different line of credit with a lower (but not great) APR. I hope to be debt-free by the end of 2026 at the latest.

Do not, I repeat, do not max out a credit card for a film unless you are 100% you can pay it off in a timely manner (from an income source other than the film itself). Debt bondage is a real and scary thing; credit card companies are predatory.

I am lucky to have a steady job — knock on wood — that provides me enough income to pay down this debt incrementally without a big hit to my quality of life.

Three years of debt plus interest is a stressful burden, but also a manageable price to pay to make the movie I needed to make when I needed to make it.

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