The powers that rule Hollywood are scared. A terrifying phenomenon has been unleashed in America this summer. No, it's not another formulaic teen slasher movie, Star Wars ' much-reviled cuddly creation Jar Jar Binks, or even Austin Powers' gravestone dentures.
The Blair Witch Project , an ultra low-budget horror movie, has emerged as the silly season's unlikely hit. Boasting neither A-list stars, an astronomical budget nor a multimillion-dollar advertising campaign, the film has broken box-office records and put one over the evil empire using a new spin on the oldest marketing tool known to mankind. Hype.
Before its American release a fortnight ago, The Blair Witch Project had been heralded as the scariest movie of the year, even though it features no blood, gore or special effects. Favourable previews compared it to psychological chillers such as The Exorcist, which initially showed little, but suggested a multitude of horrors. Unlike recent designer horror pictures - Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer and the virtually Tommy Hilfiger-sponsored The Faculty - this film did not rely on the obvious thrill of putting Clearasil-generation pin-ups in peril for 90 minutes before an emotionally satisfying finale.
The Blair Witch Project depends on a clever narrative device based on campfire myth: three student documentary-makers, each armed with a camcorder, head out to find evidence of the fabled Blair Witch in Maryland's Black Hills. They disappear. Three years later, their footage is discovered. The Blair Witch Project is the result. Entirely shot from the viewpoint of their camcorders, the movie shows their gradual descent from high-spirited irreverence to complete terror, as things won't stop going bump in the night. At an estimated budget of $40,000 - $50,000, the box-office receipts are set to dwarf that figure many times over.
After the film's triumphant reception at a midnight screening during the Sundance Film Festival last January, independent distributors Artisan Entertainment paid $1 million for the rights. Its prospects looked good, but not outstanding. With the help of the first-time directing pair, Eduardo Sanchez and Daniel Myrick (pictured), Artisan created a web site that generated an unprecedented Internet buzz, which some insiders reckon could change the way successful movies are marketed. Before its 16 July opening, the film hadn't appeared in a single TV ad.
Convinced that the film's likeness to actual documentary was its unique selling point, the film-makers were persuaded to move the opening credits to the end of the movie to unsettle audiences. The Blair Witch Project web site further blurred the lines between fiction and reality. The cunning artisans included a character's diary, bogus police reports and an invented history of the Blair Witch all the way back to the 18th century. During the six months between its Sundance debut and eventual release, word-of-mouth grew steadily as the web site's popularity flourished. At present, it has received more than 22 million hits. 'It's all fiction,' Myrick recently confessed. 'But people are getting confused. We kind of count on that.'
If the film's real-life origins became an urban myth, the unusual filming techniques were stranger than fiction. Three unknown actors, Heather Donahue, Michael Williams and Joshua Leonard, got the fright of their lives during the improvised eight-day shoot. There was no script and directors weren't actually present for the duration. They left notes for the actors at various points in the woods, which instructed the actors on the next improvised scene to perform. Using a military-issue global positioning system, the trio found their instructions, which were left inside individual film canisters. The cast were prepared for the scares, but not for being awoken at all hours by strange noises and apparitions created by their malevolent employers. The results were startlingly realistic performances captured on grainy black-and-white film.
Internet hype isn't a new marketing tool. Hollywood films routinely set up official sites months before a movie's release. The Star Wars Episode 1 site kept millions of fans informed and previewed trailers during the seemingly interminable run-up to the opening weekend. But George Lucas had plenty to work with apart from the web site.
The Blair Witch Project owes its astonishing success primarily to the nerd grapevine. From the chat rooms to trend-setting magazines, the Gospel According to the Witch spread. When the film-makers embarked on a promotional tour of the Internet, they were swamped with questions from fans eager to know more about the tragic children killed by the mythical Blair Witch. One puzzled punter from the Black Hills area wanted to know why his local newspapers hadn't carried any stories about such horrific crimes.
It's a far cry from the traditional marketing methods favoured by independent movie pioneers over the past couple of decades. Spike Lee strategically re-cut his 1986 breakthrough movie, She's Gotta Have It, over a year as he showed his films to industry audiences across America. In lieu of interest from a distributor, Lee, like many others, relied on long-sighted admirers to finance the finishing touches to his film. Then, the accepted wisdom was that a low-budget debut effort needed strong critical support and, if possible, festival recognition. Only word-of-mouth from the right people would suffice. The opinions of the paying public were like popcorn: sweet but insubstantial.
Lee's David-versus-Goliath triumph inspired the next generation of 16mm warriors. After writer-director Kevin Smith's debut, Clerks, had hit the jackpot, he remarked: 'If one wanted to emulate a career, it would be Spike's. He did exactly what he wanted to do, first in the independent arena and then with the studios.' Steven Soderbergh, who picked up the Palme D'Or at Cannes with his first film, sex, lies and videotape, was probably the director most first-time film-makers wanted to follow. His film set a benchmark for an independent film's box-office takings. Again, the tills started ringing after the critical applause stopped.
The inventive and often aggressive marketing of indie movies, pioneered by the Weinstein brothers at Miramax, changed many of the rules. The maxim of low-budget equals low-returns no longer held true. The Weinsteins, whose infatuation with cinema supposedly began after they went to see François Truffaut's The 400 Blows thinking it was a porn movie, believe if arthouse cinema is sold properly, it can be sexy. Since most prominent American independents are actually owned by major studios, promotional warfare has got hi-tech.
Whether The Blair Witch Project represents a watershed in movie marketing or just a well-executed stunt is open to question. A smart genre movie is much easier to sell than European-style highbrow. Although it won this year's Prix de Jeunesse at Cannes, the award was incidental to its success. Increasingly prestigious award winners are failing to find an audience after initial high hopes. At the Sundance Film Festival, America's premier celebration of independent film-making, the audience favourites and award winners are a more useful indicator than any critics' prize.
The summer of the The Blair Witch Project is a victory for Weinstein-style economics. The independent event-movie proves that the big studio isn't the only one who can use demand management at the box-office. While conventional wisdom suggests that niche movies open extensively in New York and Los Angeles and work inwards, The Blair Witch Project had limited openings in more than 20 states causing round-the-block queues, which, no doubt were faithfully reported on the Internet.
The industry is also happy to fall in line to meet the summer's golden boys. Fêted by the industry, Sanchez's and Myrick's only worry is which project to choose next. In fact, they've already made their decision, a politically incorrect romantic comedy shot in similar style to their acclaimed debut. That's settled then, but the film-makers have no doubt as to what everyone else would like them to do. As Myrick, a former pop promo and commercials director, told a press conference recently, 'We've definitely been getting our fair share of free lunches and had a lot of Scream rehashes thrown at us. We're "horror guys" now. It's not a bad problem to have.'
Five other landmark low-budget films that changed the way the movie industry sells itself
Stranger Than Paradise (1984) Jim Jarmusch's hit about friendship heralded a wave of indie crossovers. He was the first American to pick up the Camera D'Or at Cannes for best debut.
Working Girls (1986) Lizzie Borden's film was a triumph for feminist independent cinema. A frank documentary-style film about the private and professional lives of a group of prostitutes.
She's Gotta Have It (1986) Spike Lee proved art-house audiences could enjoy African-American films. Also a landmark in the serious depiction of black sexuality on screen.
Sex, Lies and Videotape (1989) Steven Soderbergh's huge box-office success showed mainstream audiences were ready for accessible indie-fare. Won Palme D'Or at Cannes.
Clerks (1993) Kevin Smith's scabrous first feature was a bargain, coming in at just under $28,000. It gave fresh impetus to DIY cinema and pushed Smith into the mainstream.
