Indie Film Isn’t the Escape from Hollywood - It’s the Wildfire Next Door

When I transitioned into independent film, I thought I was stepping away from the chaos of the studio system. I believed I was moving toward a space that, while undoubtedly scrappy and unpredictable, still respected strategy, clarity, and resourcefulness.

I did not come empty-handed. I came with a fund. I came prepared to build. With capital in hand, I expected to find filmmakers who understood the stakes and shared the urgency to get films made with precision and purpose.

Instead, I found something even more chaotic than the collapsing studio system itself. I found an ecosystem of dreamers without roadmaps, an environment where hope is the strategy and desperation is mistaken for determination.

It is a tough truth, but one that needs to be said.

The Streamer Billions Are Not For You

There is an unhealthy obsession in our business with these headlines about streaming platforms committing billions of dollars to new content. Netflix announces $17 billion in content spend for the year. Amazon Prime touts billions more. Disney, Apple, Max, all making similar declarations.

The problem is, these headlines are not written for you, the independent filmmaker. They are crafted for investors, for shareholders, for Wall Street. These public commitments are designed to stabilize stock prices, reassure advertisers, and keep corporate confidence high. The traditional filmmaker sees these announcements and believes it signals open doors for their passion project. In reality, the money is already allocated, and it is largely going to pre-existing deals, marquee franchises, and internal content strategies aimed at subscriber retention, not creative discovery.

At best, a sliver of these budgets trickles down to the indie level. And even then, it usually lands in the hands of the already-connected, the already-validated, the already-proven.

It is smoke and mirrors, and chasing it will only leave you breathless.

A Blockbuster Does Not Save the Industry

The same delusion happens when a studio film performs well at the box office. Recently, "Minecraft" exceeded expectations and suddenly people wanted to believe that theatrical is back, that cinema is saved.

Let’s be honest about the math. "Minecraft" reportedly carried a production budget of approximately $150 million, with global marketing spend likely exceeding $100 million on top of that. Even if the film crosses $500 million worldwide, what is left after exhibitors, marketing recoupment, and backend deals? It is, at best, a narrow-margin win for the studio, not a renaissance for the rest of the industry.

A single blockbuster doing well does not repair the ecosystem. It does not create opportunity for indie filmmakers operating at a fraction of that scale. The system remains fundamentally broken, and cheering isolated victories distracts from the larger structural issues at play.

The Award Season Illusion

And then there is the awards circuit, perhaps the biggest illusion of them all.

Take Anora as a prime example. A modest film produced for around $6 million, yet it reportedly mounted an Oscar campaign exceeding $18 million. That is three times the production budget spent solely on the pursuit of prestige.

Ask yourself: what is the return on that investment? Does an award win recoup those marketing dollars? More importantly, does it secure a sustainable career for the filmmaker, or is it merely a fleeting spotlight moment?

This is not a sustainable business model. It is a lottery ticket mentality dressed up in velvet. Validation from the awards system does not equal profitability, and it certainly does not guarantee longevity.

Why I Moved Into Indie Film — And Why It Frustrates Me Daily

I moved into indie film because I believed the sector was primed for innovation. I believed that with the right financial strategies, with real capital deployed smartly, indie film could offer something that the major studios had lost: agility, originality, and scalability.

But the deeper I went, the more I realized the system is paralyzed by outdated thinking. I routinely receive messages from filmmakers asking me to take blind bets on not just one, but entire slates of undeveloped projects. They come with no market plan, no financing strategy, no personal investment, and often no clear understanding of what my role even entails.

Let me be direct. I am not in the gambling business. I am in the business of building viable projects with tangible returns. Capital is not a charity. It is fuel for those who have already laid the groundwork to move forward.

What shocks me is how many filmmakers still believe they are entitled to someone else’s resources without proving they are willing to invest in themselves first.

The Era of Wishful Business Modeling Is Over

We are long past the days when a good script and passion alone could attract serious financing. Hope

is not a strategy. Dreams are not deliverables.

What works today is disciplined business modeling from day one. You need to treat your project like a company. You need to understand your market, your audience, your path to profitability. You need to respect the capital you are asking others to invest.

Because here is the hard truth: if you approach investors with dreams but no roadmap, they already know how your story ends.

Build Before You Ask

So to every filmmaker reading this, I offer this simple but critical challenge.

Stop waiting for the system to save you. Stop chasing headlines that were never meant for you. Stop hoping for a free pass to success.

Start building. Start investing in your own work. Start respecting the business side of this industry as much as you respect the creative.

Because the people with capital are not looking to fund fantasies. They are looking to partner with people who have already begun turning those fantasies into a tangible, well-structured reality.

And to the next filmmaker who messages me, asking me to gamble on your unfinished slate of projects without a clear business plan or personal investment, let me say this: come back when you have built something worth betting on. Until then, I will keep building with the ones who understand what it actually takes to succeed in this business.