TV’s are getting bigger while television productions are gearing up for the smallest screen in the arsenal of viewing devices – the mobile phone.   Albie Hecht, the man behind SpongeBob SquarePants is rolling out his latest animated series Bigby to an iPhone near you.

Animation isn’t cheap to produce.  An episode of The Simpsons can cost as much as 3.5 million dollars.  An animated children’s television series is probably in the 200 – 400 thousand dollar range.  But producing for a mobile phone application is cheaper and easier to distribute.   At least that’s what Mr. Hect, former President of Nickelodeon Entertainment thinks.  As the mastermind behind bringing Jimmy Neutron to the web before debuting in the movie theater, Mr. Hecht is hoping his new series does well enough on mobile phones  to justify bringing it to television and then to the big screen.

Albie Hecht is one of many TV producers creating programming for multiple outlets, because traditional just isn’t enough anymore.   Mobile is the next step.  In fact I can imagine a 5 minute daily mobile reality show, or soap opera, or game show designed for the lunch crowd to enjoy while eating their tuna sandwiches.

Will Bigby be a hit?  It’s anyone’s guess.  However, I think the first hurdle to overcome is finding 8-10 year-olds that own a iPhone.

A conductor’s role is to make sure the orchestra plays together and is well balanced. A great conductor, together with the orchestra makes music. And that’s really what a show runner’s job is — to make sure everyone in his or her ‘orchestra’ plays together and creates compelling television people want to watch. Achieving that goal can be compared to the various styles of great conductors.

The Happy Happy Style
The show runner is cheery creating an atmosphere of autonomy amongst all the individual members of the production team. However, if everyone is in charge, and no one is the leader,  it tends to create an atmosphere where mistakes are made and it takes twice as long to make a decision.

The Do It My Way or Die Style
Here the show runner has no time for anyone’s input or creative viewpoint. It’s solely about his vision — there’s the door, don’t trip over the carpet while you’re leaving. This is the atmosphere we all dread. This is the job where you count the days until the wrap party.

The Read My Mind Style
You’re never sure what the show runner is thinking. All notes are vague and ethereal. This creates an atmosphere of frustration and long days of constant re-writes, revisions and re-edits.

The Open Space Style
Here you receive clear direction but are also free to contribute your creative viewpoint to the production process. This is the job you wake up early for.

Which style is right? I’ve seen variations on all themes. In the end, it’s about creating a show that gets ratings. Personally, I’m also the type that feels the process needs to be just as creative and enjoyable as the final product.

Below is a terrific talk given by Israel conductor Itay Talgam comparing the conducting styles of Carlos Kleiber , Riccardo Muti, Herbert von Karajan and Leonard Bernstein and how they relate to leadership. While this video is 20 minutes long, I encourage you to watch because Mr. Talgam gives an absolutely delightful, funny and enlightening presentation that can be used in any leadership role. Enjoy!

Matthew Ostrom is the VP of Current Series and Development for Original Media. Matt and I worked together several years ago and since then he’s been busy creating original programming for a wide variety of networks.  In his current position he has executive produced a large slate of original shows including King of Dirt, Masters of Reception, Swamp People, Destination Design, LA Ink, Storm Chasers, BBQ Pitmasters and many more.  I asked Matt to give us an inside look into how a show goes from an idea to a series.

How did you get involved in production and development?
Matt: I started doing television production in college and then moved to New York City for an internship at HBO my senior year.  At the end of the internship I stayed in the city to start working in production.  I have done a little bit of everything in the television world since then – working and collaborating in reality, hidden camera, game show, comedy, scripted hybrid and talk/variety shows.  I have spent time in front of the camera and on stage as well, and those experiences helped to inform my producing style.  It is a very competitive industry and my diverse background has employed me through lots of ups and downs.

What are some of the deciding factors that can make an idea into something you’d want to develop into a pilot?
Matt: It depends on the show, but for me 99% of the time it’s character – a big, dynamic character in a unique world. So much of the type of docu-soap programming I make starts with a person at the center of a world that is the best at what they do, or is an expert above all the rest.  The type of personality that you can hang a show on. At the center of LA Ink (TLC) is Kat Von D, a compelling personality with an amazing talent.  The King of Dirt (DIY Network) is a simple landscaping show, but at the core of each episode are Gino Panaro and his brother, Ralph. The make amazing landscapes and drive each other a little nuts – in a fun, dramatic way.

Why don’t some pilots make it?
Matt: The unfortunate fact is that most pilots don’t make it.  If one out of ten goes to series, that’s considered successful.  During the pilot phase, you are trying to figure out what the show is, how it works and what the structure is, but there are lots of factors and influences that can throw your project off-track.  Sometimes you have an idea in mind, and sometimes that idea does not translate to screen as well as you hoped.  Or sometimes the network that bought the pilot sees the show differently than you do, and their changes can effectively kill the project.  Sometimes pilots come out great, but the network changes its mandate (e.g., they go from being a lifestyle channel to a cooking channel) and the pilot you made no longer fits on their network.  There are lots and lots of ways a great television show can die.

Was there ever a pilot you made that you were sure would be picked up as a series and wasn’t?  Why?
Matt: Yes.  I did a game show that everyone loved for a music channel.  The network did focus group testing (where they present new shows to large groups of people and find out what these audiences think of them), and the show did really well.  Everything looked great, and the day before the network was going to make a decision about ordering the show, the leadership of the network changed.  When that happens, a new General Manager (GM) is brought in, and when a new GM comes into a network, they often wipe the development slate clean by killing projects that the previous GM was working on.  It’s unfortunate, but a new GM is there to make their own mark with programming they develop.

When a pilot is picked up by the network what are some of the first things you need to do to create a show that will have ‘legs’ for  13 or more episodes?
Matt: To be honest, you really don’t want to do a pilot.  The goal is to walk into a network with a short tape that demonstrates what the show is so that the network development folks want to go straight to series.  This tape has to be awesome – like “make the hairs on your arm stand up” awesome.  If you make a pilot from that tape, it gives the network another chance to find something “wrong” with your show.  Networks can always find something “wrong” with a show, and once you get into a situation where they’re testing and thinking and time is passing, your chances of going to series start to go down.  With that said, sometimes you can’t avoid going to pilot, and it’s in that pilot that you want to demonstrate that the world you are making a show about has lots of stories to tell.  You can help to illustrate that by writing up paper that talks about future storylines or events that are coming up.  Anything that lets the network know that this could be a show that could last a long time with lots of possibilities, lots of exciting things to see.

How does your role change once the show goes from pilot to series?
Matt: It gets easier (hopefully).  The pilot is all about figuring out the formula, doing all the creative heavy lifting.  Once a show goes to series, I hire someone called a showrunner who handles all the day-to-day operations of running a show.  If I hire a really good showrunner than I can sit back and monitor the show from afar.  If the showrunner has trouble, or the talent on the show has problems, then I get involved.  I always say, “my phone only rings when things go to hell.”

Describe a typical day.
Matt: No day is all that typical.  I will check my fantasy football scores first thing in the morning.  Then it’s off and running.  I will screen cuts of shows, give notes, talk to my showrunners and help them problem solve….  I will listen to pitches, meet with network executives and give pitches for shows, or travel into the field to direct pitch tapes.  I spend a lot of time on the phone with network executives who are overseeing my shows.  My day usually starts off calm, and by 4pm, I find that I usually have not eaten lunch and I’m asking myself “what the hell happened to my day!”

Any advice for creatives out there that have an idea of a television show?
Matt: You can pitch to networks.  They have development departments, and they’re always looking for good ideas.  Just pick up the phone and make an appointment. Depending on your level of experience in television, it may make sense for you to partner with a production company.  I would recommend matching your idea with a production company that has a track record for doing that type of programming.  For example if you have an idea for a game show, go to a production company that has a proven track record of making hit game shows.  A company with a track record can get your idea into a high level person at a network, and maybe right to series!  Good luck!

Matt, I appreciate your time, thanks for joining us to day.

Matt’s recent series and Executive Producer credits at Original Media include:
King of Dirt – A how-to-landscaping show for DIY that mixes reality with instruction.
Masters of Reception – A docu-series for TLC set in the behind-the-scenes world of New Jersey’s most successful wedding catering company.
Swamp People – A docu-series for The History Channel set in the swamps of Louisiana.
Destination Design – A home makeover show for HGTV that uses inspirational travel to transform homes.
LA Ink – A docu-series for TLC starring Kat Von D set in and around the tattoo scene of Los Angeles.
Storm Chasers – A series for Discovery that follows a team of scientists and filmmakers as they attempt to intercept tornadoes.
BBQ Pitmasters – A competition docu-series for TLC about the world of competitive BBQ.
Tough As Nails – A docu-series for HGTV centered around one of Boston’s best female homebuilders.
Flowers Uncut – A docu-series for TLC about world-renowned florist, Jeff Leatham.
Duel Survivor – An adventure survival series for Discovery.
Be Good Johnny – An eight part series for The Sundance Channel that follows Johnny Weir on his quest to Olympic glory.

There are really only two tricks to producing on a small budget – hire the right people and do as much as you can yourself. Gone are the heady days when budgets were plentiful and the Brinks Truck backed up to your office and spilled piles of money onto your doorstep. We’re living in a time where we have to learn how to produce on smaller budgets while producing the same great quality work.  I affectionately call these minimalist budgets, “Working on the I and I tour. “ (The insult to injury tour).  Where once you had 3 production assistants at your beck and call, now you’re the beck and call girl.  No shame, it’s just people aren’t shelling out large sums of money these days.

So, to keep costs down and value high here are a few recommendations –

1.  Don’t bring people on board until you absolutely need them.

2.  Hire the sharpest production manager or line producer you can afford and have them negotiate the best possible terms with crew and vendors.  Make sure they run the production schedule as if they were directing the Rockettes – not a single mis step.  This will ensure you don’t have ANY overages.  An overage is not a friend to a minimalist budget.

3.  Hire Production Assistants who will work as Production Assistants but are really ready to be Associate Producers.  They’re smart, seasoned and will go the extra mile.  And since you’re abusing them on this project, make sure the next time you have an Associate Producer spot open you hire them.  Karma.  I’m just saying.

4.  If you can work an Avid or a Final Cut system string out the initial rough cut and then bring in the pro for the finish

5.  Farm out only those things you can’t do yourself, i.e. animation, musical score, etc.

6.  No fancy lunches, and by the way,  you’ll be doing your own manicures for the run of the production.

Keeping costs down, really isn’t that difficult.  If you run tight control, stick to the budget and the schedule, you’ll turn an I and I tour into a tour de force production.

When I hire a DP I have a couple of musts – they must have a terrific eye, they must have a personality, and they must be braver than I am.   I’ve found myself producing some unlikely scenarios over the years, and the brave qualification has come in very handy.

For a Discovery Channel series I had to shoot inside a factory that builds 150 feet tall wind turbines.  I found myself ducking and weaving under 10 tons of flying steel.  The crew wore steel toed boots, heavy duty helmets, and eye protection gear to keep our eye sockets from melting in the event a stray splat of molten lava hit us in the face.  I thought I was pretty brave just to walk in the place, but when I saw my DP hanging over the edge of the railing to get a shot, and then crawling inside the steel tube while they sliced it with lasers, I was thrilled. It was a beautiful shot and he made me look good.

In addition to my dislike of walking under flying objects that weigh more than my house, I’m not a big fan of heights.  When I had to shoot on top of a 75 story NYC city building with no railings on the edge it wasn’t my proudest moment.  While I stood at the doorway directing the shot, The DP was at the tip of the ledge practically hanging by his toe nails to capture the city from every conceivable angle.  Another beautiful shot in the can.

Add to my list of least favorite places to shoot and that would have to be the middle of any body of water.  Born and raised in NYC I didn’t get a lot of swimming in, unless you count playing in fire hydrants during the summer.  So, when I had to shoot some scenes at a reservoir for a PBS series I was secretly happy when the person in charge said we had to stay on shore.  However, the producer in me knew a static shot would be deathly.  I no sooner had the thought when I saw the DP hijack a boat and take it to the middle of the reservoir to capture a panoramic view – another beautiful shot.

And that is why brave matters.  The DP will get the shot you can’t.  So to all the brave and talented DP’s I’ve worked with over the years, thank you.  Here’s to more, strange and exciting adventures.

What’s your DP story? Come on spill.

Producers by nature are supposed to be good communicators. Remarkably  I’ve found many who aren’t. Shocker, right? It’s astounding how many production companies don’t let their ‘rank and file’ know what’s going on day to day in a production. Productions are alive with lots of moving parts and I liken it to several dozen people rowing a boat with one person in charge. If the person at the helm doesn’t keep everyone going in the same direction, you’ll end up with oars moving in many different directions. Can you spell c-a-p-s-i-z-e? How can you avoid drowning in a sea of production details? The answer: hold a meeting.

Meeting!? Ugh – I know you’re probably thinking “Isn’t that what they do in corporate America – hold endless meetings where nothing really gets done but wastes my time, and I end up staying at the office late into the evening so I can do the work that I should have been doing while I was sitting in that useless meeting while they were flapping their gums?”

If you’re thinking that you misunderstand me – I’m not talking about the kind of meeting where the production staff grabs a Starbucks and a Krispy Kreme and sits around the table endlessly yammering, that would be a colossal waste of time. The kind of meeting I’m talking about is a STAND UP MEETING. These are quick fast production meetings to coordinate everyone who is on the team. These meeting are held in the round where everyone stands up, if you’re standing up you don’t have time to get comfortable and start yammering. Time limit 5-7 minutes. Then meeting adjourned and everyone goes about doing their part of the production.

The purpose of the stand up meeting is coordination. Without real time coordination things tend to get lost, deadlines missed, and easily solved problems become a bad situation that keeps you up at night and costs you money.

3 Simple Steps So You Can Stand Up and Get Your Production on Track

1. Hold your stand up meeting first thing in the morning. The most important item on the agenda is giving the staff the objectives to be accomplished for the day. You should also quickly go over any problems. For example, if you’re running behind schedule, let the group know. There may be someone who is up to speed on their work and can pitch in. Or maybe someone has a scathingly brilliant idea on how you can make up the time. In any event, everyone’s in the same boat rowing toward the same beautiful shore line – a production that scores high ratings.

2, This is also the time to coordinate producers with their screeners, loggers and PA’s and find out if there are any trouble spots. This is not necessarily the time to fix those problems – you can do that amongst the key personnel involved right after the meeting. This is the time to identify any problems.

3. I have also found it’s very helpful to hold another stand up meeting around 4 p.m. to quickly go over the progress of the day and if there are any red flags that can be fixed before the close of business. Not the close of your business, because production doesn’t close – but if you need to coordinate or get something done quickly with outside entities/vendors, like permits, rentals, banks, etc. this is the time to do it.

If you’re thinking to yourself, “But I don’t have time to meet with the production personnel, I’m too busy producing,” then you need to get a grip. You do have 14 minutes each day to coordinate with the very people who are going to help you row that boat to shore and get your production in on time and under budget. You have no production without the personnel – so get them together and keep them coordinated.

If you’re suffering from the disease of production chaos – and it is a disease, once one domino falls the others aren’t far behind – then start having stand up meetings. Get coordinated, involve your team and produce a highly rated show.

Over to you.

Interview With Film Maker Ted Fisher Part Two

(See Interview Part One)

Today I continue my interview with documentary film maker Ted Fisher, as he discusses his process and the challenges of moving from short documentaries to feature length documentaries.

Hoop Springs Eternal is a very interesting story of a woman who makes a living using hula hoops.  How did you find this story and what compelled you to tell it?

Ted: When we participated in the Doc Challenge, our worst fear was drawing “sports” as a genre. Sports documentaries can be great, but when you only have five days, you’ve ruled out following a team for the season or watching a competitor struggle to improve. So I became hypersensitive to sports or activities that people might do anytime. Hula hooping was one of these, and with a little research I found that there were hoopers of every conceivable type. We focused on two because they had both come to New York to act, and had “accidentally” become professional hoopers. One, Jenny McGowan, performs with her hoops (sometimes in a burlesque act) and another, Loren Bidner, now teaches hooping as fitness training. To me, the classic New York story of coming to the city to act and then having to find a way to fit in and survive is fascinating — and the fact that both characters lives changed in an unexpected way makes it more interesting to me. I think that’s one of the things that is always revealed in documentary: life doesn’t do the expected thing.

The toughest element in production in our era of Reality Television and polemic documentaries is to convince someone that you just want to get a glimpse at their life. It’s very easy for them to expect you have an agenda, or want to trick them, or make fun of them. Or, to think “this will make me a star!” and expect the film to work in that way. So my goal has always been to try to be as honest as possible: I think you are interesting, what you do is interesting, and it might be great as a film. There’s not much else you can promise, except to show up on time.

Ted Fisher behind the camera

Ted: There’s a cliche in a lot of police shows: a chase proceeds up to the rooftops, and a character realizes the only way forward is to jump across a huge gap to the next rooftop. The move from shorts to features feels like that for me, at least at the moment.

We live in an era where if you can work with people, can borrow a camcorder and buy a few tapes, you can plausibly go out and shoot a good short doc. Since I made my first documentary short in 2002, however, the ladder up to feature work has gotten much harder to climb. Everyone seems to be struggling to find funding, or if they’re adventurous or resourceful enough to complete the film somehow, then they’re struggling with distribution. There’s more competition, fewer resources, less of a potential pay off in the end, and a lot of confusion and doubt. There are still people doing it, and people succeeding, but the jump seems further.  The professional process — develop an idea, get access, shoot some on the cheap, cut some type of funding trailer, get funding, develop a team and finish the film, then get it into festivals and sell it  — still exists, but seems to be working for fewer than in the past.

So, as with my other production, I’ve developed a list of possible feature-length documentaries. I have careful notes about who I can get access to, what travel is required, what archival materials need to be licensed, how many crew members it would take to get everything shot, where we might need a location to interview, and all the other details. And that’s where I’m going.

But that gap between roofs looks huge. Wish me luck.

Film schools are a training ground for many young film makers, and many schools are hiring well known filmmakers to teach in their programs.  For those filmmakers interested in teaching how would they proceed in finding opportunities? And for those students interested in attending film school, what can they hope to accomplish?

Ted: After a career in the arts — I was a public art coordinator for five years, then a photography curator for another five years — I moved to New York so my wife could complete her Ph.D. I very purposefully decide to avoid jobs that would lock me into a rigid work week. How could I make films if I couldn’t show up for interviews or location shoots? So I’ve been mixing freelancing and teaching for several years now.

A typical term for me is teaching an editing class and a TV studio production class at Bronx Community College (part of the CUNY system), teaching an editing class and a visual effects class online at Westwood College, and teaching a photography class through Hunter College Extension. That’s roughly equivalent to a full-time teaching load — many college teachers do four classes each semester — but I try to set it up so there’s some freedom with my schedule. Half of documentary production is showing up, so I tend to value that flexibility.

For me, teaching is a way to continue my education. In the tradition I come from (I earned an M.F.A. in art before I got seriously involved in documentary) all the best artists taught as part of their practice — but in the film world it’s often looked at as a fallback career. Of course, now that the economy is the way it is, I’m seeing some great filmmakers suddenly ask “hey, how does that teaching thing work?” Of course, in Europe, that model of filmmaker / professor is very well known. Michael Haneke is a professor at the Vienna Film Academy, other great filmmakers teach at places like La Fémis in Paris.

The main thing for filmmakers who are considering teaching to know is that your credits on IMDB.com and your stack of great reviews become just part of the picture when you apply. A typical hiring committee will want to see academic background, preferring a terminal degree and maybe some publications or conference presentations in your area of the field, a willingness to develop into a good teacher, a willingness to do those things academic departments need, and a different type of communications skill from filmmaking: the ability to teach, lecture and clarify. There are some great filmmakers with only a B.A. who teach, but in general that’s fading away and the requirement is now generally an M.F.A. or — in some departments — a Ph.D. may even be desired. And most of the people hiring you will have come from a “publish or perish” background, where academic papers and conferences are a part of the practice. Most importantly, they want to feel you are fantastic at taking the complex ideas of filmmaking and making them accessible to students. There are a lot of great filmmakers who confuse the heck out of people when they try to teach: they know how to do it, but that’s not the same as being able to help someone else to do it.

The upshot is that while you can point to your awards and festival screenings, you can’t waltz into the best school and expect to be named department chair. For most people this means starting with adjunct classes, typically based in a specialty like editing, cinematography, or audio. You’ll develop a syllabus, have your teaching observed and get student evaluations. And you’ll want to collect student projects if appropriate. Document everything, and after enough work at the adjunct level you can, if it turns out to be your thing, apply for the full-time tenure-track gigs, if that’s your interest and it fits  your lifestyle. But be aware: even the adjunct jobs are receiving hundreds of applications these days.

For students, my best advice is to think of sports stars who get an offer from a pro team, leave college to take it, then get injured. There’s a lot of pressure on people in school, once they start to show skill, to “go pro” and it can be very tempting. My take is that the real value in the college process is you have an opportunity to focus on your own work and improve to your full potential. In a lot of ways, that’s plentiful when you are in school and then instantly disappears when you go out to a job. School forces you to complete your film, to go through critique processes, to master elements of the field you wouldn’t on your own.

You don’t have to look far, however, for the folks who say “film school is a waste of time, I learned more my first week on the job.” There’s an element of truth to that, but the counterargument is this: take any filmmaker, put them in a good program, and they improve, often in ways they had never considered before. That “first week on the job” can wait. But for school to be valuable, you have to use the opportunity that’s there: a chance to focus, a chance to get great support and great critique, and a chance to prove yourself. Everything depends on you, not on a lucky meeting, the right person reading your screenplay or anything else. For students that do the work and take advantage of the possibilities, there’s no question that it can be a foundation of ideas that you can’t get by being self-taught.

The thing my students are always surprised about is that we’ll cover an idea, and then the next week they’ll happen to watch a film and see it implemented — and realize they just couldn’t see it before. The process is about making people see the world in an a new and different way.

Thanks Ted for taking the time to join us and sharing your process and insights.

Find out more about Ted by visiting his blogs New York Portraits,and Actualities and his website.

Ted Fisher behind the camera

Ted Fisher is a multi-talented writer, producer, editor and documentary short film maker.  His documentary Bend & Bow can be seen on Netflix as part of the International Documentary Challenge DVD.  I spent some time chatting with Ted about his process as a film maker and as a teacher.




Interview With Film Maker Ted Fisher Part One.

Your documentary Bend & Bow was created in five days for the International Documentary Challenge – how did you choose your subject and what steps did you take to finish within the time constraints?

Ted: When people imagine making a documentary, they picture going on a shoot somewhere beautiful, exotic, perhaps dangerous, or think about crafting material from a stack of tapes into something an audience will enjoy. It’s easy to forget the essential process of documentary work is developing an idea and then gaining access. Nothing happens without good planning and the ability to find and ally with the right subject. Even if you think of yourself as a director, an editor, or a cinematographer, you’ve got to immerse yourself in the role of producer and take care of those tasks — or there is no film.

For Bend & Bow I worked with five other filmmakers. We’d participated in the Doc Challenge the year before, making Blind Faith: A Film About Seeing. For that film we followed a group of blind photographers on the last day of their exhibition at a Manhattan gallery, and tied that with the Empire State Building going dark to draw attention to the issue of preventable blindness. The film made it to the Doc Challenge finals, but we left the process exhausted and felt we could have made the film better if we had worked smarter.

So for Bend & Bow, we took every element seriously: we made a list of possible topics and subjects, preparing for any genre and theme we might draw in the Challenge. We then did the hard work: we secured a “yes” from every one of our possible subjects. We acted like we were producing several short films, and prepared to shoot any of them. When we received an email at the start of the challenge, telling us that the year’s theme was “Change” and our genre was “experimental” we took a phone vote — and were most excited about following Natalia Paruz, a musician who plays the saw in the New York subway. We knew from our pre-production discussions with her that her life story involved major change, and of course busking musicians are generally paid in “change” also. More importantly, we found our conversations with Natalia captivating. My best advice is to not start a documentary unless you find the main subject exciting. If you’re not fascinated, no one else will be.

For the shoot, we tried to gather everything in one day: we followed Natalia from her home to the subway station at Union Square, stayed as she played, and later that night shot interviews at her home. That was according to plan. Then our process moved to my tiny apartment, where the six of us huddled for several days, ordering take out food, drinking wine and trying to shape the film. My wife and I are normally quiet, but for about 72 hours straight the apartment rang with saw playing and people shouting out ideas. That’s where the we hit a bit of a wall: at a certain point we realized we didn’t know how to end the film. The clock kept ticking, and we kept re-editing, looking for an ending and struggling to agree.  We found we could beat the basics of production, but we fought the clock to figure out our film. That’s the main thing I now do differently: at every shoot I wait to have the moment where I say “aha, that thing that just happened? That’s our ending.”

The Frugal Traveler: The Grand Tour features 13 European Cities in 12 weeks.  The series gives viewers a look at the Old World through conversations with the people you encountered in your travels.  How much footage did you shoot compared with what was seen in the series?  Were there stories you wished you had more time to tell?

The summer before, I worked as producer on the Frugal Traveler: American Road Trip series, which was the New York Times first venture into serial programming. The idea was that travel writer Matt Gross would take a summer road trip in an old Volvo, and report in each week with a video in addition to his written piece. At the time there was a lot of excitement about video blogging, and if you looked around the Web you could have seen a lot of video shows that were really just someone talking to the camera, maybe standing in an interesting place but maybe just against a plain background. But Matt is a good writer, and definitely wanted to go further, and my background is documentary, so I wanted to angle the show towards those concerns, and the Senior producers were very supportive but wanted an emphasis on the characters Matt would meet. So the three themes blended: Matt’s personal thoughts on travel mixed with some documentary material emphasizing the experience, mixed with the type of quirky characters you find in every city in the U.S. It worked well (the series won the Webby for Online Film & Video in the travel category) and we made it seem enough like a crewed television production that I’m not sure people understood what a high-wire act it was: Matt really did travel the country alone with a small touristy camcorder, pulling it out when people seemed willing, then uploaded the footage online with a proposed script. I usually had less than 12 hours to edit the piece — a great learning experience and editing exercise, but nerve-wracking and challenging.

So when the series expanded to Europe the next year, the idea of how stories would be developed was exactly the key production point: Matt traveled alone, shooting what he thought could be the week’s story but aware that once the footage and script arrived at the New York Times’ there would be a very pragmatic process. Based on input from Senior producers, the task of constructing something that works out of limited material, as well as the context of the series, there were always hard choices and stories that were in the assembly draft, then cut from the final edit. Usually Matt shot a good amount of material, following several possibilities. The most common outcome was that one of the mini-stories he’d tried for would get cut: I’d do an assembly based off the script, we’d see how long we were running, and then usually the first step toward finishing would be to trim out at least one of the encounters he’s had during the week. So some charming characters went into the trims bin, and a few surprising adventures as well. The goal always had to be for a watchable, coherent video, though — and it had to fit in the overall arc of the summer journey, too.

For me, two things happened that I found most exciting: in one episode, after he had finished filming everything else, Matt got a chance to meet immigrants struggling to survive. It shifted the episode from the traditional material of travel video — see art here, eat food there, don’t miss this — to one where the idea of traveling as luxury was contrasted with those who travel because they have to. It meant we pushed the edit right up to a late-night deadline, but made for a story that was worth telling and an experience that no one had expected to see. In another episode, Matt set out to hitchhike around Cyprus. That’s not the kind of experience you can communicate with a “star” followed by a big crew. A single person with a tiny camcorder, however, could get across the feeling of waiting, as the sun goes down, to find one last ride out of the middle-of-nowhere to somewhere to stay for the night.

Part Two – My interview with Ted Fisher continues tomorrow.  Ted talks about his documentary Hoop Springs Eternal, teaching and film school.

Find out more about Ted by visiting his blogs New York Portraits, and Actualities and his website.

Today I’m talking with Emmy award winning Executive Producer David P. Levin.  David’s work includes TV Land Confidential, Inside the Kid’s Choice Awards, MTV’s Uncensored and most recently the VMA 2009: What You Didn’t Know.  David is also known in many circles as the master of the interview.  He has the uncanny knack of getting people to tell him their untold stories.

You’ve executive produced many television shows that have become popular based on their ‘un told nature’.  It began when you wrote and produced for the hugely popular series MTV Uncensored.  How did the idea come about?

David: MTV Uncensored started as a special for MTV’s Ultrasound series.  The first in the series was the Video Music Awards Uncensored.  I was one of several segment producers working on the project, but the concept really spoke to me.  With MTV’s 20th anniversary coming up, I loved the idea of exploring the history of the VMA’s through untold stories.

That first two-hour show was simply envisioned as a new way to promote the Video Music Awards.  What nobody expected was that the show would actually generate ratings – and buzz.   Even more unexpected:  the more it aired, the better the ratings.  That actually became a regular occurrence on later episodes of Uncensored – it rated better in the reruns.

When supervising producer Carlo Ocando left MTV, I was asked to produce MTV Spring Break Uncensored – and that show received even higher ratings.

Dave Sirulnick and Lauren Lazin then asked me to do MTV Uncensored– covering the entire history of MTV.   That show really set the tone for all the others.  We began booking actual stars; everyone from Jon Stewart to Cindy Crawford.  That two-hour show received an Emmy nomination, but we lost to the Thanksgiving Day Parade on NBC.

A whole series of specials followed – not just about MTV.  We produced Sports Illustrated swimsuit Issue Uncensored, Jim Carrey Uncensored, Grammy’s Uncensored, and Def Jam Uncensored.  We had amazing producers for all of them – a terrific team.   And I also helped put together the 20th anniversary coffee table book which was based partly on the interviews  from MTV Uncensored.

You also produced two special Uncensored television shows for CBS Sports – the story behind The Final Four college basketball championships and the SuperBowl.  How did your story go from cable to network television?

David: That came about when MTV became involved with the CBS Superbowl coverage in 2001.  It had to do with the synergy that was created when CBS and MTV came under the Viacom banner.  MTV was producing an evening of prime-time Super Bowl specials the night before the big game, as well as the half-time show that year.  One of the specials was SuperBowl Uncensored, which I supervised, and Craig Shepherd directed and produced.  It was done in the same irreverent tone that we had done all the other Uncensored specials and was hosted by Craig Kilborn and Chris Connelly.

It did well in the ratings and received good critical notices, so later CBS asked us to do March Madness Uncensored.

Ironically, I know nothing about sports.  That worked to my advantage, oddly enough, because I didn’t have any preconceived notions about what a sports program should look like.  At the time, Les Moonves got a good laugh at the fact that I had never filled out a bracket before.  I picked the teams based on the length of their names – whoever had the shortest name moved up.  It didn’t turn out too badly, actually – Duke did very well that year.

When you created TV Land Confidential you featured the untold stories of favorite television shows, movies and music. Was it difficult producing a show without knowing what the actual stories would be until you were in post production?

David: Well, that’s the thing about untold stories:  they’re untold.  I mean, the people telling them have probably told their friends and family, and insiders might know.  But the stories we were generally looking for were stories we had never heard before.

I’m a total trivia geek.  My head is filled with the most useless knowledge about pop culture.  With TV Land Confidential, I finally got to put that knowledge to use.  So we would start with obscure stories and work our way from there.

Each person we interviewed became a link in the most convoluted TV family tree you’ve ever seen.  Interviewing Barbara Eden meant we wanted to interview Larry Hagman which led to the cast of Dallas.  We interviewed Gavin MacLeod and that meant both the Mary Tyler Moore Show and Love Boat stories.     Cloris Leachman led to stories about Malcolm in the Middle and Mel Brooks movies which led to Peter Boyle which led back to Everybody Loves Raymond.

I was constantly juggling information in my head.

As Executive Producer of MTV’s VMA 2009 What You Didn’t Know you were given the task of writing, producing and getting the show on the air in two weeks.  What challenges did you face and overcome when dealing with such a short turnaround time?

David: What You Didn’t Know was something that MTV decided on in the eleventh hour.  The 2009 VMA’s this year generated a lot of buzz and they wanted to capitalize on it while interest it was still high.

The key was MTV giving their full support to getting this on the air.  Meetings happened quickly, approvals were turned around within a few hours, everyone involved knew that there was no time to get it wrong.  They hired a terrific team of PA’s, AP’s writer and editors who all hit the ground running.

Even though these were untold stories to the general public, we knew from day one what the stories were going to be.   Unlike the uncensored or confidential shows, the show was fully scripted BEFORE we did any interviews.  That made it a lot easier.   And so did the fact that we could do all the interviews on DV, something that would have been impossible six years ago.

What’s the secret to finding the untold story and getting a celebrity to tell all?

David: First, you have to know your subject inside and out.  Once I’ve done all my cramming, then I “forget” what I know.  My job isn’t to show them how smart I am or to tell the stories for them.  It’s to get THEM to share.  I encourage them and show my knowledge in small ways.  I keep my questions short and the whole thing completely conversational.  Allison Steele once told me that she didn’t really need research for an interview.  She told me her own feigned ignorance, combined with natural curiosity always led to the best results.

Occasionally, someone will show up for an interview unexpectedly.  Lou Gossett showed up with Garret Morris for his interview and I got a terrific conversation about the early years of Saturday Night Live.

I never go in with a list of questions.  I go in with a list of topics and try to NEVER look at my notes.  But then I let the conversation go where it will.  I ask general questions, show the person I’m talking with that I REALLY am interested in what they have to say – and show my knowledge in small ways over the course of the interview.

I never dig for dirt.  It’s salacious and what they’re expecting.  For the most part with celebrity interviews, I’m not looking to play “gotcha.”  It’s about making them look good.

Once you get someone comfortable, they’re willing to talk about almost anything.  I’m very proud of the interviews where someone started out reticent to talk and then ended up going much longer than planned.

Most important is to remember that celebrities do interviews all the time.  In the first fifteen minutes, they will give you their “stock answers.”  You have to go longer.  The best stuff usually comes in the second half hour when they let their hair down.  Your interest and enthusiasm to hear their real stories is the best way to get the BEST stories.

Once you show that you are not looking for dirt on them or on their co-stars, you will get some surprising material that’s better than anything you were expecting.

What was the biggest untold story you’ve ever uncovered?

David: I can’t tell you that.  It’s still untold.

What was your favorite untold story?

David: That I CAN tell you.  And it’s not about a celebrity at all.  It’s the very first story from March Madness Uncensored, about a player named Wiley Brown.  Today, he’s the head coach for Indiana University Southeast.  But back in 1981, Wiley was a student playing for Louisville headed to the NCAA finals.  When he was four years old, Wiley lost his thumb in an accident and now played basketball with a prosthetic thumb.
On the morning of the big game, Wiley accidentally left his thumb back at the restaurant where the team had breakfast.  He couldn’t play without his thumb.  So the assistant manager and team assistants had to race back to the restaurant with a police escort to go find the thumb, which had inadvertently been thrown out by the restaurant staff.

We actually tracked down Wiley and the assistant coach who told us that the thumb was only found after doing a dumpster dive.  But Wiley’s story didn’t end there.  In the middle of the big game, on national television, a time out was called – Wiley lost his CONTACT LENS.  We found the footage of all the players searching for his lens.  Wiley laughed as he told us about the embarrassing moment.  And of course, Louisville went on to win the national championship.

But for me the capper to the whole thing was the great visual we got at the end of the story:  Wiley’s thumb from that game now resides in the Louisville Hall of Fame in a glass case.  That was a story that kept on giving.

Thanks David for sharing your stories.  See David’s latest untold stories in the special he recently executive produced for MTV -  VMA 2009: What You Didn’t Know.

Join me tomorrow for an exclusive interview with Executive Producer/Show Runner David P. Levin as we talk about MTV’s  Uncensored success and the making of his latest special, VMA 2009: What You Didn’t Know.

You can enjoy the show at MTV’s website as it is no longer available for sharing on other sites.