Are we wasting time trying to get documentaries in cinema? If the Oscar-winning One Day in September made less than Bridget Jones did in the first half-hour, is there really any hope?
"People don't go to the movies to see real stories. They go either to see fantasies or dramatization of real stories," says One Day's producer John Battsek.
Battsek's conviction is widespread in the UK, and backed up by numbers: docs don't get bums on seats like fiction films. Only a few documentaries have been successful at the box office in Britain - most notably and recently the knee-thumping Buena Vista Social Club. The depressing sales make distributors and cinemas reluctant to sign on. And broadcasters, well, why should broadcasters care?
But signs are that, despite the numbers, a significant market for docs is going untapped. In her report Docspace, Amy Hardie argues great potential lies in mobilizing the niche documentary viewers that broadcasters set out to cater for, but have since been sidelined in the quest for ratings. The success of specialist screenings and documentary festivals -- numbers for both the Sheffield International Documentary Festival and Tour have increased dramatically - point to an appetite not being filled by television.
While Britain has a long way to go before documentaries are uncoupled from television in both audience and industry eyes, signs from abroad show a good documentary can get people out of the house. In Norway, three out of ten of the top films last year were documentaries, while in Canada, 100,000 people attended the Film Board's doc 'robotec' library. And in the U.S., where story-telling docs have never been a staple of television, "non-fiction features" screen regularly in independent cinemas.
Hardie says a key to success lies in getting distributors and broadcasters to recognize the benefits of cross media promotions, rather than squabbling over rights. And docs should have targeted marketing plans and longer runs so that two key factors - press reviews and word of mouth - can take hold. Digital projection also bodes well for screening docs by removing painful blow up costs, and allowing many more venues - Sweden is installing projectors in many community arts centres.
At the moment, docs hitting the big screen usually stem from a director's cinematic ambition -- and willingness to suffer financially. But it doesn't have to be that way. When Danish Film School students Jonas Frederiksen and Sami Saif decided to make a documentary chronicling Sami's search for his errant father, they had two aims: no television meddling during production and a cinematic release. To achieve the former they bypassed broadcasters and secured Danish Film Institute funds, linked up early with a major distributor, and took out major loans. For the latter they aimed large: Cinemascope, a symphony orchestra score, a fiction film editor, and a hefty marketing campaign.
Their ambitions were realized with a cinematic release in Denmark, and the scooping of the Joris Ivens award in Amsterdam. And the sweetener: Family has earned a profit - through television. The film has been bought by a dozen broadcasters, including BBC's Storyville. But catch it at this year's Sheffield International Documentary Festival the way it was made to be seen - in the cinema.
"People don't go to the movies to see real stories. They go either to see fantasies or dramatization of real stories," says One Day's producer John Battsek.
Battsek's conviction is widespread in the UK, and backed up by numbers: docs don't get bums on seats like fiction films. Only a few documentaries have been successful at the box office in Britain - most notably and recently the knee-thumping Buena Vista Social Club. The depressing sales make distributors and cinemas reluctant to sign on. And broadcasters, well, why should broadcasters care?
But signs are that, despite the numbers, a significant market for docs is going untapped. In her report Docspace, Amy Hardie argues great potential lies in mobilizing the niche documentary viewers that broadcasters set out to cater for, but have since been sidelined in the quest for ratings. The success of specialist screenings and documentary festivals -- numbers for both the Sheffield International Documentary Festival and Tour have increased dramatically - point to an appetite not being filled by television.
While Britain has a long way to go before documentaries are uncoupled from television in both audience and industry eyes, signs from abroad show a good documentary can get people out of the house. In Norway, three out of ten of the top films last year were documentaries, while in Canada, 100,000 people attended the Film Board's doc 'robotec' library. And in the U.S., where story-telling docs have never been a staple of television, "non-fiction features" screen regularly in independent cinemas.
Hardie says a key to success lies in getting distributors and broadcasters to recognize the benefits of cross media promotions, rather than squabbling over rights. And docs should have targeted marketing plans and longer runs so that two key factors - press reviews and word of mouth - can take hold. Digital projection also bodes well for screening docs by removing painful blow up costs, and allowing many more venues - Sweden is installing projectors in many community arts centres.
At the moment, docs hitting the big screen usually stem from a director's cinematic ambition -- and willingness to suffer financially. But it doesn't have to be that way. When Danish Film School students Jonas Frederiksen and Sami Saif decided to make a documentary chronicling Sami's search for his errant father, they had two aims: no television meddling during production and a cinematic release. To achieve the former they bypassed broadcasters and secured Danish Film Institute funds, linked up early with a major distributor, and took out major loans. For the latter they aimed large: Cinemascope, a symphony orchestra score, a fiction film editor, and a hefty marketing campaign.
Their ambitions were realized with a cinematic release in Denmark, and the scooping of the Joris Ivens award in Amsterdam. And the sweetener: Family has earned a profit - through television. The film has been bought by a dozen broadcasters, including BBC's Storyville. But catch it at this year's Sheffield International Documentary Festival the way it was made to be seen - in the cinema.
Carol Nahra is a freelance writer.
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