IV - POST-PRODUCTION
(March 2016 - Sept 2017)

​Chapter 25
Art & Copyright: Beauty & Headaches

After sound and color correction, the film was almost ready and I felt like I was approaching the finishing line. But I then had to contend with an issue I had (perhaps a little consciously) ignored until then: the film contains almost 90 different locations or works of art that are copyrighted material.
 
I asked around for advice. What should I do? The reactions I got varied. On one extreme were those who said: “Who cares, just put it online, no one will notice and even if they do, what’s going to happen?” Well, I might get sued, but more importantly the film might get pulled from whatever media it’s on, it will raise the wrong kind of awareness, I’ll have proven to be a careless, disrespectful artist and my film may never see the light of day.

On the other extreme were those who immediately cringed: “Can’t you re-edit the film without the artwork?” Well, technically, I could, but that would completely gut the film of its content and meaning. The artworks are essential to everything I was trying to tell, in terms of theme and visual language. I loved the idea that by watching psi, people would journey through the five cities via their artworks and architecture, and get introduced, or re-introduced, to beautiful locations they could go and explore for themselves. So as I geared up to show the film around, I had to face the fact: I had to get permission for all the artwork that needed it.
 
I started off by getting some advice from clearance agencies in Paris – these are legal agencies that specialize in securing all kinds of rights for film productions. I wanted to ask them  how best to proceed and what my chances were. I met with one agency who were legitimately amazed and confused by the film. They'd never seen anything like it and, I suspect, thought I was a bit crazy. In a nutshell, they admitted that securing all the permissions would be a massive undertaking, but that it was doable. They were hoping I would hire them. But I couldn’t, I didn’t have the funds for that.
 
So, I went it alone. I tracked down all the artists - or their representatives, as many had passed away - and sent them all a formal request, along with a screener of the film and a letter of intent, asking to include the artwork or piece of architecture in the film for non-commercial purposes.

For most of them, I got an ok. Even the most "famous" ones: I got positive replies from the representatives of Anish Kapoor, Anthony Gormley, the Calder Foundation. Some artists were legitimately supportive of the film, such as Zadok Ben-David, who called the Israeli Museum (where his artwork is displayed) to back the inclusion of his sculpture in the film. Such responses made me feel truly invigorated.

Yet, the situation I found myself in was far from perfect, and it revealed a weird conundrum about permission. I was once at a diner party where, as I exposed my copyright predicament, another indie filmmaker banged his fist on the table with the mantra: “Don’t ask for permission, ask for forgiveness.” And yes, that's sounds great. It's the kind of motto that makes you feel invincible, that encourages you to be daring, that promises rewards for being mischievous. But if I learnt one thing during this time, at least from a legal perspective, it's that if you can get permission beforehand, just ask for it. Because the issue of the artwork in the film has legitimately bothered me ever since I wanted to show the film outside of my living room. It has never sat well with me that, at the end of the day, what I'm doing isn't "right." If any of these artists don't want to be featured in the film, they can just say so and I'll have to edit them out. In other words, the film as I've edited it, as I've intended it to be viewed, as I want it to exist, can only be if these other 80 parties allow it.

Needless to say, I'm eternally grateful to them for having been so understanding and receptive.

After months of effort, research and tracking down, I managed to obtain non-commercial rights from all of them in order to showcase the film in non-commercial settings: i.e. the Internet (non-monetized), festivals, conferences and universities. My thought was this: if the film gets screened at any such event and picked up by a distributor, they would need to secure the commercial rights. One producer I spoke with estimated that this could cost anywhere near 200.000 euros, which, in the grand scheme of things, isn't much money for a ready-made film. But I would never be able to pay for that.

So, for now, I'd go down the non-commercial route, and make the most to showcase and promote the artwork that these artists had agreed to let me feature. 

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