My name is Elliot Grove and I started Raindance. I assume life will change back to the good old days prior to March 2020. Up until last month, my typical day at Raindance was like this:
I grew up in an Amish Mennonite community outside Toronto and was taught that the devil lived in the cinema. One day, when I was 16, I was sent into town to collect some welding from the blacksmith and had three hours to kill. So I walked up and down, and decided to see what the devil looked like. I paid 99 cents, went in, and sat down – it was a bit like church. Except the fabric on the seats was red – the colour of the devil. Then they turned the lights off. The first movie I saw was Lassie Comes Home, and I wept like a baby. At the end I went up to touch the screen to see if I could feel the rocks or the fur – but it was gone, magic. And I was hooked on cinema forever.
How I started Raindance
I started Raindance in 1992 during a personal low. I had just gone bust in the previous global recession and I spent a long time feeling sorry for myself. I decided to re-tool in film – I had lost all my previous film contacts made while I was a scenic artist. I first started a film training programme here in London. A year later – in ’93 – I started the Raindance Film Festival, and in 1998, when the British film industry was wallowing in self-pity, I started the British Independent Film Awards.
First things first
My typical day starts by unlocking the office. More often than not I am the first one in. I love switching the lights on, It reminds me of that first frame of Lassie Comes Home that hit the screen. I open up my email to see if there is anything urgent or exciting. A colleague or two usually show up a few minutes later, and while they are settling we have an informal chat which covers these three really important things: what happened yesterday that could be better, what’s happening at home (a couple Raindance workers have small children, a couple others are single – so there is always plenty to discuss) and lastly: what’s on the agenda today.
These are really special moments, and if someone is late, or away – you really miss them.
The interns start arriving – we usually have four. I try and give each person a special project that plays to their strengths. Some interns excel in physical/practical things, others are really good on the telephone, and others have good web skills. I then have my second meeting of the day – with the interns, and again we discuss yesterday/last night at home/today.
I then check the social media metrics: the number of new Twitter followers, unique visitors to our website and how many people have opened our emails from the day before. It gives me a perverse pleasure to check these statistics – I’m never sure what they mean, but it is fun. It’s something I will check like a maniac when we are doing something special like a press launch for the festival, or launching a crowd funding campaign for a movie.
The 3 things I monitor on a typical day at Raindance
I have three problems each day. In fact, I don’t like to call them problems – I prefer to say that in general I face three challenging creative opportunities:
1) As an art based charity, we need to be very focused on earning enough money to cover our overheads
2) Administering our hectic training programme and oldest, largest independent film festival in Europe
3) Political issues. This area has started to demand a lot of my time, partly because we have grown in stature, partly because our competitors persist at taking cheap shots at us, and partly because of my own ego. I am terrible at politics – perhaps it is the pacifist teaching I got at a youngster – the ‘turn the other cheek’ that Mennonites are known for. I try to assess the challenge and delegate our response to a colleague more adept and astute than me.
What makes a good day
I know I have had a good day when everyone in the office has been totally immersed in their work. I love it when someone, intern or staff member, shouts “Whoppee! Look what I found!”
Of course Raindance as a company has financial targets and goals like any other business, from dry cleaning to dentistry. But an important aspect of our goals, and my goals personally, is to help other filmmakers.
Every once in a while we get a big slobbery thank you, and that really makes it all worth while.
After the interns go home, I either have a speaking engagement somewhere in the city, or, I go home to catch up on writing (like this) or I twitter. On secial evenings I watch yet another independent feature or short by someone, perhaps exactly like you, trying to break in. When I find something special, I feel like I have had the best day ever.
It doesn’t get better than that.
Photo Credit: Bertie Watson
I founded Raindance Film Festival in 1993 because the British film industry was closed, polite, and congratulating itself while shutting new filmmakers out.
I co-founded the British Independent Film Awards in 1998 because British indie film deserved more than a shrug, a pat on the head, and a Tuesday night screening.
Raindance didn’t start as a brand. It started as a rebellion: film training without gatekeepers, a festival without permission, and a community built by filmmakers who weren’t waiting to be invited in.
Later, we took it global: Toronto, Vancouver, New York, LA, Berlin, and Brussels, because independent film doesn’t belong to one city, one class, or one accent.
I’ve produced 700+ short films and seven features, including Deadly Virtues (2014) and ALICE, which won the SXSW Grand Jury Prize (2019) not because someone “discovered” us, but because the work earned its place.
I’ve written three books used by filmmakers worldwide because too many courses taught compliance instead of survival.
In 2009, I was awarded a PhD for services to film education, ironic, given that most of my career has been about tearing down the rules that education insisted you follow.
I don’t believe in waiting for permission.I believe in making work, building systems, and forcing the industry to catch up.
Specialties: Independent Film (the real kind) · Producing · Writing · Film Education · Festivals · Breaking Broken Systems
Check out my new Substack for in depth Free Articles:
