by Amy Jones
Crowdfunding has gained significant traction over the past decade as an alternative to dominant financing models, not only for film production, but for a variety of projects requiring startup capital. Much has been made of the liberatory potential of crowdfunding, which offers the opportunity to circumvent cultural gatekeepers, bypass rigid forms of industrial production, and even elide state censorship (Kocer 2015, Sorenson 2012). Digital platforms that facilitate crowdfunding, such as Kickstarter and IndieGoGo, emphasize this in their marketing material, which describes a direct connection between cultural producers and an empowered audience, celebrating the creative autonomy that is expected to result. An exemplary sample of this rhetoric can be found on Kickstarter’s “about” page:
Kickstarter is an enormous global community built around creativity and creative projects. Every artist, filmmaker, designer, developer, and creator on Kickstarter has complete creative control over their work — and the opportunity to share it with a vibrant community of backers.
For this project, I was interested in how crowdfunding might facilitate producing documentary video that is aligned with the goals and principles of Third Cinema. Third Cinema is an ambiguous category, encompassing a broad range of styles, eras, and geographical origins. What unifies the films of Third Cinema is an oppositional or alternative perspective to the native ideologies of established centers of artistic production and distribution, such as the Hollywood film industry or the European art cinema. In particular, Third Cinema seeks to dismantle cultural and political hierarchies, which have historically subordinated citizens of the global south, women, and people of color, among many other marginalized groups. Third cinema has evolved as the techniques by which these hierarchies are maintained have evolved. As colonialism gives way in many regions to neocolonialism, messages of cultural hierarchy are coded differently, and the responses of Third Cinema have creatively adapted.
Crowdfunding offers a way to bypass cultural institutions and intermediaries that have historically been implicated in the reproduction of racist, sexist, and colonialist heirarchies. The specific effects of this rerouting, however, merit further investigation. A cursory perusal of Kickstarter’s most-funded campaigns turns up a list of celebrity endorsements, and bio-pics of popular figures. While there is a prevalence of politically progressive documentaries, which should not be discounted, a radical breakdown of cultural hierarchies does not seem apparent here.
Moreover, contemporaneous with the emergence of crowdfunding, a proliferation of cable TV networks and online distribution platforms has resulted in ever-increasing market segmentation and specialization. As entertainment companies seek to penetrate these new markets, some have employed crowdfunding as a litmus test of profitability, mitigating risk by preemptively identifying a new project’s market. The downward pressure on budgets that has accompanied market segmentation is compounded by the availability of flexible production technologies, as smaller crews and less-labor intensive strategies become the norm. Media makers who have previously enjoyed support from conventional sources have thus also turned to crowdfunding, in an effort to fill the gap. In fact two of the most successful crowdfunding campaigns, for the Veronica Mars film and Amanda Palmer’s Theater is Evil album (both of which are discussed below), originated with artists who had already achieved success as professional cultural producers through more conventional channels.
Given the range of uses to which crowdfunding sources such as Kickstarter may be put, I wanted to zero in on specific practices that might advance the political and cultural goals we see evidenced in third cinema. How might crowdfunding make producers accountable to their audiences in meaningful ways? Under what circumstances does crowdfunding enable producers to circumvent institutionalized censorship or cultural bias? How can crowdfunding build an audience that doesn’t simply serve as a dependable market, ensuring a monetary return on investment, but that invests in, and feels meaningfully represented by, the production itself?
Though his analysis predates the emergence of crowdfunding, David Whiteman provides a useful theoretical perspective from which to frame this investigation. Drawing on social movements theory to trace the political impact of documentary film and video, he argues that the sociocultural impact of a given work be evaluated using a “coalition model”. This model accounts for its effects on a broad network of social actors, not just in the moment when they view the completed work, but in the myriad ways in which they are connected to its production and circulation. Is the film aligned with cultural or political work in other arenas? Do audiences find it transformative? This model resonates with core principles of Third Cinema, which emphasize participatory pedagogy, fidelity to situated knowledges, and active engagement by and with audiences.
As an example of successful coalition-building, Whiteman describes the production process of From the Ground Up, a documentary about mining in northern Wisconsin. In the course of researching and producing the film, Rob Danielson, the film’s director, reached out to a broad variety of activist groups, community organizations, and other groups who were affected by mining, including stakeholders as disparate as Native American nations and outdoor sports enthusiasts. Relating his experience making the film, he echoes the advice of marketing experts: “If you engage people in production, you are creating your own audience – or, more specifically, your own distribution network” (Whiteman 59). Significantly, Danielson also solicited a variety of non-monetary forms of support. Stakeholders mobilized their own social networks to offer various forms of in-kind aid. Screenings were hosted in schools, bars, houses of worship, fire stations, legislative offices, and a booth at the state fair. Activists volunteered to host panel discussions and Q&A sessions in conjunction with screenings. The film thus became a locus for extended discussion, clarifying and cementing an alliance between these disparate stakeholders, and ultimately shifting the public conversation about mining. Many activists credit the film with contributing to the passage of a mining moratorium bill in the Wisconsin state legislature.
The metrics by which Whiteman evaluates the success of politically-oriented documentary converge well, interestingly, with best practices for a successful crowdfunding campaign. Studies demonstrate that project backers are motivated to contribute funds not only in exchange for the “rewards” that are offered (generally including privileged access to the finished media), but also for more socially-conscious reasons, such as a desire to support causes analogous to their own beliefs, and to belong to a community of like-minded people. Documentaries that connect to specific social issues are also more likely to meet with success (Sorenson 2012).
Moreover, while campaigns often rely heavily for their initial support and promotion on a creator’s own preexisting social network, analysis demonstrates that successful campaigns tend to have a broader reach (Lu et al 2014). In order to be successful, a campaign should strive to circulate beyond a densely clustered social network, constituted by strong ties, into adjacent networks to which the creator is weakly connected (ibid).
Scholars thus recommend campaigns employ a multi-pronged strategy, designed to build a sense of community around the project itself. Social media communications should be designed to facilitate broad recirculation, and should be reinforced by communications in more traditional media. It is of course impossible to predict with any degree of precision what might make a tweet or video clip go “viral”, i.e., to circulate well beyond the network of strong ties within which it originates, and the costs of promoting in traditional media can be prohibitive. However, allying one’s project with existing activist groups, cultural institutions, and other potential allies can be an effective way to accomplish this. Those who have a common stake in the project may promote it via an email listserv, for example, offering an authoritative endorsement to a project by an unknown creator.
Frequent updates about a project’s progress are also recommended, for a number of reasons. First, they serve simply to keep the project on funders’ radar. Second, they can build confidence as to its viability. Research demonstrates that potential supporters are sometimes deterred by concerns that the funding they provide won’t be used effectively towards the project’s stated goals (Gerber and Hui 2014). Detailed project updates can help to allay these concerns. Frequent communications can also forge a line of direct accountability between cultural producers and their audiences, generating a sense of shared investment in the success of the production. Many independent producers find this community support invaluable, not just in a monetary sense, but as a means of bolstering morale and focusing their sense of purpose during their struggles to bring a project to fruition (Gerber and Hui 2014). Successful campaigns encourage producers to feel that their work is important and valued by others (ibid).
The rewards offered by crowdfunding campaigns can also include an experiential component, such as a special event screening, that can enhance this sense of community. Such events can provide a springboard from which to convert weak ties into strong ones, strengthening and expanding social networks for subsequent projects.
Encouragingly, crowdfunders often lend passionate support to media makers who speak from a marginal perspective. A distillation of this ethos can be found in Kickstarter’s promotional material:
Kickstarter’s emphasis on innovation and risk can’t be taken at face value, as I discuss further below. However, the success of the platform does lend credence to the idea that there is a public appetite for “risky” work. Provided they are confident a work is viable, “crowds”, generally speaking, are enthusiastic for opportunities to support the underdog.
Ironically, those who are best positioned to leverage the unique properties of crowdfunding may be those media makers who already enjoy privileged of access to established mechanisms of production and distribution. A notable example is the 2013 crowdfunding campaign for Veronica Mars, a feature film based on a fictional television series that aired on UPN/CW from 2004-2007. The campaign was launched after the film’s producers failed to secure funding from Warner Brothers, the production company that owned the rights to the series. It was wildly successful, raising $2,000,000 during its first eleven hours, and eventually accumulating a total of $5,702,153 from a record-breaking 91,585 donors (Scott 2015).
The campaign’s promotional material underscored the project’s rejection by the studio, and aligned the producers of the series with its fans, appealing to them in a tone of subcultural solidarity. While this “outsider” position is consonant with Kickstarter’s stated ethos of providing resources to risky or marginalized perspectives, the project also clearly drew upon a great deal of accumulated cultural capital, sourced in no small part by its prior exposure through television and related industrial media. The Kickstarter campaign in fact served to demonstrate the enduring value of that capital. After the successful campaign demonstrated that the film would be received by an enthusiastic audience, Warner Brothers signed a contract to support its distribution, thereby profiting from a crowdfunded project in which it had initially declined to invest (ibid).
This example demonstrates a tension inherent in crowdfunding strategies that co-exist with more conventional sources of funding, and with concomitant cultural hierarchies. Because it provides detailed data on the demographic breakdown of a production’s audience, crowdfunding is espoused by independent and large-scale producers alike as a way to demonstrate the existence of a market for distribution (Harvey 2016). The fan agency Kickstarter promises is thus easily co-opted by established media channels, as a means of mitigating the risks associated with financing major projects. In such cases fans influence the content they consume, but the quality of this influence is limited to that of a focus group. Unlike a traditional investor, they have no codified authority to influence the direction of the project.
This can result in tensions over creative control. Suzanne Scott highlights this tension in her reading of the discussion boards around the Veronica Mars project, which lobbied the writer/director for specific outcomes to the film’s storyline. While the TV series had successfully constituted a taste community around this particular product, the particular ethos or moral economy of that community was actively contested. Scott argues that the ethos espoused by the crowdfunding platform intersected with traditions established in fan culture, such as “textual poaching”, or DIY reinterpretation of material, in a way that generated a proprietary sense in fans (Scott 2015, see also Jenkins 1992).
Amanda Palmer’s 2012 campaign, created to fund a tour and support materials for her album Theater is Evil, also intersected with DIY fan culture in interesting ways. With an original goal of $100,000, the campaign raised over $1,000,000, making it Kickstarter’s most successful music campaign to date (Potts 2012). Palmer is highly adept at connecting with fans, offering frequent direct communication via an email listserv, as well as a broad range of social media, including YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. Her fans are also very active in discussion forums, bolstering a sense of community through lateral engagement (ibid).
Palmer’s crowdfunding campaign evokes this feeling of raw access and intimacy. In a homespun-style promo video she evokes the American folk tradition, soliciting support by holding a series of handwritten cards up to the camera, in the style of Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues”. One of Palmer’s cards claims, “This is the future of music”. The text accompanying the promo video is loose and effusive, a style that promises immediacy, as do the premium rewards including handcrafted artwork and personal appearances.
Importantly, Palmer also positions the crowdfunding campaign as a revolutionary effort to liberate herself from the restrictions imposed by a conventional record label. Two years prior, Palmer had garnered a groundswell of fan support in response to a conflict with Roadrunner Records, an independent label with which she was in contract at the time. Following a disagreement over the content of a promotional video, Palmer posted the following to her listserv:
the fine folks at roadrunner records wanted us to recut this video so that shots of my belly wouldn’t be included.
they basically told me that I looked too fat.
i told them to fuck off (Potts 2012).
Fans exploded with criticism of the record label, posting responses on twitter, the fan forum, and various social media. One fan wrote:
Amanda, firstly, is not fat…but if she was, who gives a damn?!?!?
after reading their above comments to amanda, this record label ins’t worth shit
in my mind…fuck them I mean it, FUCK THEM!!!
I hope to god, there is someone with me on this…(Potts 2012).
The writer appears to demonstrate some intense emotions about restrictive beauty norms in the above passage, and some ambivalence, most likely associated with internalization of these same norms. They feel compelled to point out, to begin, that Amanda is not fat, and proceed, after aggressively dismissing the record label, to plea for the support of others. It appears the intense emotion is paired with fear that the emotion won’t be shared. This fear turned out to be unfounded. Hundreds of fans took photos of their own bellies and posted them to flickr, while others curated these photos on a website devoted to the growing “rebellyon”.
Palmer’s work appears to reside at a contested intersection, the productive tensions of which fuel her charismatic authority. This charisma allows her to position herself as rebellions, while retaining certain privileges associated with conventional media hierarchies and “star” power, including the ability to determine how crowdsourced funding is used, and to command asymmetrical prices for her own artistic production. Palmer’s fans, further, seem to ascribe a quasi-magical agency to her, crediting her with the ability to “reinvent the music business” (Potts 364). As another author remarks, “Palmer’s fans aren’t just in “like”. They’re in love – the kind of infatuation that’s usually only possible when you believe you’re among a limited, somewhat exclusive group of suitors – and they’re willing to pay to prove it” (Willman 2012).
Palmer’s example raises the issue that many fans may not be ready – or adequately empowered – to let go of the vicarious power of identification. In a mass media context, this identification may provide the most serviceable vehicle currently available for under-resourced stakeholders to participate in public discussions involving a broad imagined community.
While the two highly successful projects discussed above are clearly limited by their dependence on the resources and hierarchies of the culture industries, a crowdfunding campaign need not raise funds in the millions of dollars in order to have a substantial impact. My Child, a documentary about parents of LGBT youth in Turkey, raised far more modest funds, but nonetheless employed the strategies listed above to impressive effect. In a political context where homophobic discrimination is deeply entrenched, the early visibility and moderate success of the crowdfunding campaign was crucial to the film’s production and, in time, significant political impact.
The campaign for My Child was posted on IndieGoGo, another crowdfunding platform specializing in film production. Unlike Kickstarter, IndieGoGo distributes all of the funding pledged by backers to project creators, regardless of whether the funding goal is reached. The producers and crew members reached out to members of their various social networks, soliciting contributions and offering updates that were consonant with the film’s family-oriented messaging.
This messaging is exemplified in the promotional video for the film, which begins with a simple direct address to the camera by one of the film’s subjects. She says, “This film will be our first time in front of a camera, for our children’s rights”. The subsequent scene shows the group assembling to have their photograph taken, genially arranging themselves as though for a family snapshot, with good humor and a bit of confusion. The overlaid text on this scene reads, “5 mothers, 2 fathers”. A crew member steps forward to take one mother’s bulky handbag, underscoring the group’s unfamiliarity with the process, and thus their guilelessness in telling their story. A final call for solidarity closes the video, with another mother stating, “To support this documentary you don’t have to be an LGBT parent, you just have to be a parent”.
My Child raised only $18,500 of its $40,000 target, but this was enough to convince the film’s producers that the film was both viable and necessary, encouraging them to approach a number of international organizations (Kocer 2014). Many of these organizations also found the initial public support to be promising, and contributed the necessary difference.
More significantly, the process of the film’s production constituted an emergent “public” around issues of LGBT rights in Turkey, located in the socially-sanctioned context of familial relationships. The participants themselves became active in LISTAG, a support and solidarity group advocating for LGBT rights in Turkey. In the course of promoting the film, their status as parents made the issue legible to a broad range of mainstream media outlets. The film’s participants credit the crowdfunding campaign with opening a social space in which this public could begin to emerge.
Further Reading:
Borst, Irma, Christine Moser, and Julie Ferguson. “From Friendfunding to Crowdfunding: Relevance of Relationships, Social Media, and Platform Activities to Crowdfunding Performance.” New Media & Society 20, no. 4 (April 1, 2018): 1396–1414. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461444817694599.
Christensen, Christian. “Political Documentary, Online Organization and Activist Synergies.” Studies in Documentary Film 3, no. 2 (January 1, 2009): 77–94. https://doi.org/10.1386/sdf.3.2.77/1.
DeFillippi, Robert, and Patrik Wikström. International Perspectives on Business Innovation and Disruption in the Creative Industries: Film, Video and Photography. Edward Elgar Publishing, 2014.
“Doi: 10.1386/sdf.3.2.77/1,” n.d.
Etter, Vincent, Matthias Grossglauser, and Patrick Thiran. “Launch Hard or Go Home!: Predicting the Success of Kickstarter Campaigns.” In Proceedings of the First ACM Conference on Online Social Networks, 177–82. COSN ’13. New York, NY, USA: ACM, 2013. https://doi.org/10.1145/2512938.2512957.
Gerber, Elizabeth M., and Julie Hui. “Crowdfunding: Motivations and Deterrents for Participation.” ACM Trans. Comput.-Hum. Interact. 20, no. 6 (December 2013): 34:1–34:32. https://doi.org/10.1145/2530540.
Graeber, David. “On the Moral Grounds of Economic Relations: A Maussian Approach.” Monograph, 2010. http://www.openanthcoop.net/press.
Howe, Jeff. “The Rise of Crowdsourcing.” WIRED. Accessed May 20, 2018. https://www.wired.com/2006/06/crowds/.
Koçer, Suncem. “Social Business in Online Financing: Crowdfunding Narratives of Independent Documentary Producers in Turkey.” New Media & Society 17, no. 2 (February 1, 2015): 231–48. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461444814558913.
Kuppuswamy, Venkat, and Barry L. Bayus. “Crowdfunding Creative Ideas: The Dynamics of Project Backers in Kickstarter.” SSRN Scholarly Paper. Rochester, NY: Social Science Research Network, November 2, 2015. https://papers.ssrn.com/abstract=2234765.
Lu, Chun-Ta, Sihong Xie, Xiangnan Kong, and Philip S. Yu. “Inferring the Impacts of Social Media on Crowdfunding.” In Proceedings of the 7th ACM International Conference on Web Search and Data Mining, 573–82. WSDM ’14. New York, NY, USA: ACM, 2014. https://doi.org/10.1145/2556195.2556251.
Luka, M.E. Media Production in Flux: crowdfunding to the Rescue. Journal of Mobile Media 7(1) March 2013.
Mollick, Ethan R. “The Dynamics of Crowdfunding: An Exploratory Study.” SSRN Scholarly Paper. Rochester, NY: Social Science Research Network, June 26, 2013. https://papers.ssrn.com/abstract=2088298.
Qiu, Calvin. “Issues in Crowdfunding: Theoretical and Empirical Investigation on Kickstarter.” SSRN Scholarly Paper. Rochester, NY: Social Science Research Network, October 27, 2013. https://papers.ssrn.com/abstract=2345872.
Scott, Suzanne. “The Moral Economy of Crowdfunding and the Transformative Capacity of Fan-Ancing.” New Media & Society 17, no. 2 (February 1, 2015): 167–82. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461444814558908.
Sørensen, Inge Ejbye. “Crowdsourcing and Outsourcing: The Impact of Online Funding and Distribution on the Documentary Film Industry in the UK.” Media, Culture & Society 34, no. 6 (September 1, 2012): 726–43. https://doi.org/10.1177/0163443712449499.
Whiteman, David. “Out of the Theaters and Into the Streets: A Coalition Model of the Political Impact of Documentary Film and Video.” Political Communication 21, no. 1 (January 1, 2004): 51–69. https://doi.org/10.1080/10584600490273263-1585.
Accessed May 21, 2018.
Selected Crowdfunding Campaigns:
Amanda Palmer:
My Child:
https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/my-child-parents-of-lgbts-in-turkey-speak-out#/
Dungeons and Dragons: A Documentary
Bridegroom
Socialism: An American Story
http://kck.st/2Fg1JtH
Veronica Mars:
http://kck.st/Z1HJRR
Medical, Inc.
http://kck.st/IeVGHo
The Red Pill:
http://kck.st/1Ou0Dgd
Canary in a Coal Mine: