How I Would Run an Entertainment Studio
My answers to Ted Hope’s challenge
The Challenge
At the end of March,
put a brilliant challenge out to his subscribers asking how they would run an existing studio with a streaming arm and some legacy business:
While I’m technically past the deadline, and by the time this publishes there may be a new challenge already, I wanted to take a crack at this. (Plus Ted did specifically say it was a false deadline so HA!)
I also like the limitations Ted placed on this challenge (don’t take more than an hour, max of 5 choices) since I work best under constraints.
A Few Things to Note
A few items before diving in:
I deliberately avoided other peoples’ responses so that I wouldn’t be unduly influenced.
I’ve actually thought a lot about what it would be like to run an entertainment studio, since - in a way - that’s what I’m attempting to do with my content creation venture - LoFi Comedy Collective. While we’re starting with short-form, easily-digestible content, my ultimate goal is to expand into longer-form storytelling. Eventually, I hope to be able to call what we’re doing “running a studio” or some version of it at least.
I have never worked in development at a production company. I have never worked at an agency. I have never worked on the studio side of things period. I have only ever worked in production and in writers’ rooms, so my thoughts here are all through that lens and I’m going to inevitably say shit that sounds ignorant to some of you who do come from that background. Bear with me.
You’re going to find these items to be a lot more spiritual than strategic or financial.
does a good job tackling a strategic approach to this in his recent post (even if he wasn’t directly addressing Ted’s challenge), so check that out.
Here are my answers, posed as “Guidelines” that I would want the studio to abide by:
1. Move Quickly
Nothing kills creativity quite like time. Whether it’s working on a project so long that you’ve lost the spark of what you loved about it in the first place or spending so many months in development hell that you’ve lost the thread of what you’re making, time can often (but not always) be the enemy of creative thought.
Moving quickly also means getting to yes (or no) quickly. Reading a great project or meeting a great creative should be evident relatively quickly. If you’re considering a project and you end up dragging your feet, that’s usually not a good sign.
Writers I’ve met rarely hold a grudge for a decisive and fast “no.” But a “maybe” that drags on for months? No better way to infuriate a Showrunner.
The other benefit of speed is being able to iterate quickly, which leads to my next point:
2. Experiment
Trying new things is the best way to:
A: Discover magic in stuff you hadn’t considered before and…
B: Reinforce what you already stand for, what you like (and what you don’t).
Think about the last time that someone dragged you to do something new, something you haven’t tried before. Sometimes you hate it, and it reinforces your belief, as in “Burning Man isn’t for me” and sometimes it changes your life as in “Skydiving is my new favorite thing to do.”
I would expect people who work at my studio to be unafraid of failure, as long as they learn from that failure and as long as they continue to try new things. That means writers taking chances in their stories just as much as it means executives taking chances in their writers.
I love the idea of (as an example) Google allowing employees 20% of their time to pursue new things. Though I doubt they still do this, it has yielded remarkable breakthroughs that a lot of us now can’t live without. See Google Maps and Gmail, both things that started as side projects within the company.
3. Hire (and Trust) Great Creatives
I believe in hiring great creators and giving them the flexibility and freedom to make the stuff they want to make. Even if that stuff doesn’t fit my tastes. Even if that stuff doesn’t immediately start seeing success among audiences. I am but one person, and I know that not everything will accommodate my palate. I feel like a lot of execs fall into the trap of all their shows needing to be tonally consistent. Just because doesn’t speak to me personally doesn’t mean it’s not going to resonate with an audience somewhere.
By empowering Showrunners, Directors, Producers and Writers to go with their gut and make the stuff they’re truly excited by, this hypothetical studio will be able to go after audiences they weren’t exposed to before and appeal to viewers that would otherwise be disinterested in the stuff we’d put out.
Also, we’ll be able to attract great talent because they’ll appreciate the creative agency they’re afforded.
Now, I understand this is easier said than done. Trust is earned and usually it takes time to establish. I wouldn’t be able to give a Showrunner an overall deal based on 2 or 3 meetings with them. I’d first need to establish a working relationship with them, and the best way to do that is to hire them on other projects in the works at the studio, see how they operate, and see if our creative sensibilities jive, which leads to:
4. Be Hands On With Creative Talent
Not in a micro-managey sense, because who fucking enjoys that? More in the sense of establishing real relationships with creatives. There’s a reason that people end up hiring their friends in the entertainment industry: Because you want to work with people you know have your back and people who you like spending time with.
This is core to my personal mission too: Spend time with people you are intellectually and creatively aligned with, but still challenge me to see things differently.
Invite people to lunch and talk about shit other than just the show they’re working on or the numbers your studio is doing. Some creatives won’t like this and will want to get back to developing their show, and that’s fine.
My goal with this would be to establish that baseline of trust mentioned above and use these meetings to determine what a long-term working relationship with this person would look like.
And finally:
5. Be Audience-Aware
Yes, trust creatives’ instincts to make the stuff that they feel passionate about, and provide support for them to execute their vision. Yes, try and make new stuff that challenges audiences instead of providing them exactly what they’re looking for, because when you do that you’re competing with YouTube and Netflix on their home turf, and that’s a recipe for disaster.
But - also respect audiences. Respect the types of storytelling they enjoy. Respect their tastes and their desires. Make things that they are excited to watch. After all, we’re in the entertainment business and we should be constantly thinking about who will be entertained by this or that show or movie.
What this means:
Do Research - Not just a screening for audiences in Vegas after you’ve spent 99% of the budget already. Research who’s watching the shows and movies you’re putting out and what they love about them.
Test ideas early. Release a short, proto-version of the project and see how people respond. This can be an Instagram reel or a short story inspired by the full thing. The point is, get insights on what about this story resonates with your potential audience. Ideally as early as possible.
What this doesn’t mean:
This doesn’t mean kowtowing every creative-decision to the will of the masses, which is more often detrimental to audience-building than it is helpful.
This also doesn’t mean trying to appeal to everyone, which I’ve stated before often means appealing to no one. Sometimes the best performing shows start with a niche audience that is truly passionate about it. There’s no replacing a dedicated fanbase with half-hearted “broad market appeal.”
Okay, my 60-minute timer is up. Apologies for the shortage of illustrations, but I was under deadline!
Stay tuned,
Jon
Sounds like a good place to work! Have you seen what Vimeo announced they’re doing?