Beth Starkey may not be the filmmaker the state legislature has in mind when it agonizes over luring big-name Hollywood productions to Colorado.
But the Littleton mom with the kitchen-table mailing operation for her DVD series is far closer to the heart of the state’s “movie industry” than Sly Stallone hanging from a mountain (“Cliffhanger”), or Jim Carrey riding a scooter to Aspen (“Dumb and Dumber”). Starkey has a half-hour children’s program in hand, spent six figures getting it done in Colorado and wants to film more videos here if she can only find the right distributor for her dream.
“Someone said to me, Beth, you may end up with a very expensive home video,” said Starkey, who created the “Why, Dragonfly?” science series as an alternative to the cartoons and action shows her two boys tended to watch.
“Hopefully, that’s not the case. It’s a matter of the right person seeing it and saying they want to be a part of this.”
The heart of Colorado’s motion-picture industry consists of producers spending money on actors, technical help and marketing for films and videos you may never hear of again. Since we lack the history of Hollywood, the incentives of Vancouver, British Columbia, or the dramatic cityscape of New York, Colorado lags other shooting locations in attracting big feature films.
Yet industry promoters say self-starters like Starkey can be the core of a thriving Colorado video culture that could do far more for employment and artistic creativity in the state than the occasional blockbuster. State film commission director Martin Cuff hopes local producers can set aside their dreams of seeing their movie’s name in big lights on a theater marquee, and take advantage of changing public habits.
“There is this interesting movement of watching things away from the movie theater, even watching them away from the television,” Cuff said. Filmmakers are making back their budgets through video on demand, Internet downloads, church showings of family films and other nontraditional screenings of their work.
“I heartily discourage most ‘indie’ people from even getting a sales agent these days,” Cuff said. “Apply your own knowledge. Theatrical release is great, but …”
Starkey is listening.
She hit the market with “Why, Dragonfly?” last fall, after producing the DVD with live-action shots at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science and animation from a studio in Portland, Maine. She has marketed by direct mail to parents, paid television appearances, and by offering science kits to schools. She has talked to PBS about airing the half-hour, with no deal yet.
Producers of family material have found success marketing videos through high-volume outlets like Wal-Mart and Best Buy, winning impulse purchases from curious parents. But distributors are flooded with educational and feature videos of varying quality, and Starkey has yet to land one.
“Disney already has their channels established. So I’m working on getting that ‘in,’ ” Starkey said.
Bill Hillman is a Colorado native producing family feature films in South Carolina, in large part because of state tax rebates there that can save 30 percent on shooting costs. Told about Starkey’s situation, Hillman encouraged her to keep going after the school market and find distributors who market to multiple districts.
“If the schools pick it up, she’ll have a home run,” said Hillman, who sympathizes with all indie producers seeking markets for G- and PG-rated fare. Hillman’s company has had major under-the-radar hits, including sales of 300,000 units of a family movie called “Quigley.” But he doesn’t have a guaranteed formula.
“It’s not something you can put a finger on and say, this is how we did it and everybody else can follow that path,” he said. “Quigley” sold in part because it was Gary Busey’s first family-movie role, it was about a dog, and churches screened it for family nights. When buyers for Wal-Mart told Hillman’s distributor they disliked the name of another offering, he changed it. It sold.
Cuff is trying to get word out to local producers that no group is too small for marketing an obscure movie. He tells of a young producer selling a movie about college wrestling. He used the Internet to advertise 25 dorm parties on the same night, with the DVD showing there and also on sale.
“It was targeted at the right audience,” Cuff said. “My perception of a lot of what is produced in Colorado is there is not a clear understanding of what the audience is.”
Castle Rock’s Alan Currens just won support from his most important audience: financial backers. Currens and partners believe they have raised enough money to produce a pilot for a “Power Rangers”-style TV show called “DOT-7.”
“We should be fully funded by May 1,” he said. “So now we can book the orchestra.” Live-action shots for the pilot should include hundreds of thousands of dollars spent in Colorado, with animation done by a Canadian studio.
Even if the pilot gets finished, Currens would still have to hit the trade shows seeking both broadcast rights and distribution of future DVDs. It’s that frustration with enticing a broker that has bred creativity in filmmakers like Darla Rae Allen, who has 5,000 copies of her feature DVD waiting for buyers.
Allen spent $50,000 in Colorado shooting her script about two spinal injury victims who rehabilitate at Craig Hospital and later take up the rough sport of wheelchair rugby. Since finishing the movie, Allen has taken the movie to film festivals, approached Hallmark’s cable TV channel, considered renting 30 of Regal Entertainment’s screens on one night for $10,500, and spent a lot of time in church.
One of the protagonists in Allen’s movie is a pastor, and the director hails from a big church in Texas. She’s screening the movie for Colorado church leaders, hoping to land rentals of her film for fundraising nights. She could sell copies of her DVDs after the events.
“Distribution is nothing more than a middleman,” Allen said. “I know my movie better than anybody, so I know my audience better than anybody.”
Cuff is backing Allen’s methods, and tossing in more ideas whenever possible. “What about showings at all the hospitals and institutions across the country that deal with spinal injuries?” Cuff said. “What about all the groups of wheelchair athletes, or anybody in wheelchairs?”
For most filmmakers who stop to think, Cuff said, such marketing lists go on and on.
“Why attempt to get just a few people into a movie theater?”
Staff writer Michael Booth can be reached at 303-820-1686 or mbooth@denverpost.com.
