Focus Features

In the first of two pieces on Twitter, Karina Longworth examines the way directors are using the site; Scott Macaulay, a second generation user, follows up with his take on the microblogging phenomenon here.

A lot has happened in the past three weeks. Troma founder/DIY schlock legend Lloyd Kaufman was forcibly ejected from Oscar winner John Patrick Shanley’s home. Rian Johnson, whose second film The Brothers Bloom will culminate a long festival run with a wide release next month, declined an invitation from film writer Devin Faraci to join him at the famously scuzzy LA strip joint Jumbo’s Clown Room. And Greg Mottola did press for Adventureland whilst suffering through such an epic hangover that, in his words the “inside of my mouth feels like joaquin phoenix.” I know these things to be true not because they were reported in the mainstream media, and not because I know any of these filmmakers personally, but because I follow each of them on Twitter.

I started using Twitter in early 2007 and have since become accustomed to fielding dismissive questions about it, most of which could be boiled down to two words: “Why bother?” Those who haven’t fallen into the addictive whirlwind of the microblogging service/always-on community claim to be blind to the appeal of publicly posting 140-character answers (sometimes direct, often not) to the question, “What are you doing right now?” Skeptics ask why anyone would want to tell the whole world what they’re doing — and who would want to read it? But in recent weeks, Twitter has been the target of an explosion of media attention, thanks mainly to the fact that celebrities and other public figures are using the platform to an extent that few could have anticipated in Twitter’s earlier days. With so many boldfaced names now mingling amongst the rabble of the Twitter community, the “Why bother?” question becomes more complicated. For every well-known Twitter user who plays along strictly in the name of passionless self-promotion (see Wes Craven, whose stream is clogged with “re-tweeted” Last House on the Left reviews from his followers), there’s another who approaches the personal technology like … well, like a real person.

Take, for example, the Kaufman vs. Shanley incident. At 12:49 PM on March 20, Kaufman Tweeted, “Am on way to interview John Shanley Oscar winner dir DOUBT 4 next book.” Less than an hour later, at 1:37 PM, came Kaufman’s next Tweet: “Shanley had DOUBTS! Took 1 look @ Poultrygeist DVDbox & postponed my interview.” Kaufman used Twitter to jab at Shanley several times over the ensuing days, charting his progress to reclaim a hat left at Shanley’s that was given to him by his wife, NY State Film Commissioner Patricia Kaufman. Discussing the incident over the phone two weeks later, mere hours after Shanley finally allowed a Troma assistant to pick up the hat, Kaufman acknowledges that he Tweeted in anger –– “I was pissed!” Even so, the incident is an example of how Kaufman uses Twitter to invite Troma fans (who he says have been encouraging him to start a Twitter account for a while) into a two-sided conversation, in which the filmmaker and his admirers are united in opposition against the film world elite.

“Throughout the history of Troma, in large part our business strategy has been guided by our fans. They want our company to survive, and it's very difficult for independent movie studio to survive in this climate of big cartel media conglomerates,” Kaufman says.

Beyond giving filmmakers an opportunity to listen to fans and promote on a more personal level, Twitter also narrows the gap between filmmakers and an emerging generation of writers and critics. For a filmmaker like Johnson, Twitter is a natural extension of the internet film culture he’s long been tapped into via message boards and blogs, but pushed into a warp speed that destroys traditional distinctions between the maker and the audience. “One of the big reasons I'm personally addicted to Twitter is that many of the people I follow are film writers,” Johnson said via email. “It's like being plugged into an instant feed of unfiltered snipes, gripes, praise and whatnot about whatever new film is out there, from this cloud of people around my age who largely share my tastes.”

Twitter’s detractors often bash the practice for being completely narcissistic, but the narcissism it compels is in some ways uniquely suited to filmmakers. In asking each user to leave a bread crumb trail representing their daily lives, it encourages us to think about our own seemingly silly day-to-day as a narrative, and to be more aggressive in shaping our own stories. This should answer the “Why bother?” question once and for all: in a time of mounting uncertainty, who wouldn’t like to feel more in control of their own destiny? “It forces us to be a little more conscious of how we're living our own lives, or at least forces us to express thoughts and feelings, with the notion, however illusionary, that we're being heard,” Johnson says. “I think there's value in that. Even if 90% of it does end up being the equivalent of ‘watching tv with my cats lol.’”

Follow Karina Longworth and FilmInFocus on Twitter.

In the first of two pieces on Twitter, Karina Longworth examines the way directors are using the site; Scott Macaulay, a second generation user, follows up with his take on the microblogging phenomenon here.

A lot has happened in the past three weeks. Troma founder/DIY schlock legend Lloyd Kaufman was forcibly ejected from Oscar winner John Patrick Shanley’s home. Rian Johnson, whose second film The Brothers Bloom will culminate a long festival run with a wide release next month, declined an invitation from film writer Devin Faraci to join him at the famously scuzzy LA strip joint Jumbo’s Clown Room. And Greg Mottola did press for Adventureland whilst suffering through such an epic hangover that, in his words the “inside of my mouth feels like joaquin phoenix.” I know these things to be true not because they were reported in the mainstream media, and not because I know any of these filmmakers personally, but because I follow each of them on Twitter.

I started using Twitter in early 2007 and have since become accustomed to fielding dismissive questions about it, most of which could be boiled down to two words: “Why bother?” Those who haven’t fallen into the addictive whirlwind of the microblogging service/always-on community claim to be blind to the appeal of publicly posting 140-character answers (sometimes direct, often not) to the question, “What are you doing right now?” Skeptics ask why anyone would want to tell the whole world what they’re doing — and who would want to read it? But in recent weeks, Twitter has been the target of an explosion of media attention, thanks mainly to the fact that celebrities and other public figures are using the platform to an extent that few could have anticipated in Twitter’s earlier days. With so many boldfaced names now mingling amongst the rabble of the Twitter community, the “Why bother?” question becomes more complicated. For every well-known Twitter user who plays along strictly in the name of passionless self-promotion (see Wes Craven, whose stream is clogged with “re-tweeted” Last House on the Left reviews from his followers), there’s another who approaches the personal technology like … well, like a real person.

Take, for example, the Kaufman vs. Shanley incident. At 12:49 PM on March 20, Kaufman Tweeted, “Am on way to interview John Shanley Oscar winner dir DOUBT 4 next book.” Less than an hour later, at 1:37 PM, came Kaufman’s next Tweet: “Shanley had DOUBTS! Took 1 look @ Poultrygeist DVDbox & postponed my interview.” Kaufman used Twitter to jab at Shanley several times over the ensuing days, charting his progress to reclaim a hat left at Shanley’s that was given to him by his wife, NY State Film Commissioner Patricia Kaufman. Discussing the incident over the phone two weeks later, mere hours after Shanley finally allowed a Troma assistant to pick up the hat, Kaufman acknowledges that he Tweeted in anger –– “I was pissed!” Even so, the incident is an example of how Kaufman uses Twitter to invite Troma fans (who he says have been encouraging him to start a Twitter account for a while) into a two-sided conversation, in which the filmmaker and his admirers are united in opposition against the film world elite.

“Throughout the history of Troma, in large part our business strategy has been guided by our fans. They want our company to survive, and it's very difficult for independent movie studio to survive in this climate of big cartel media conglomerates,” Kaufman says.

Beyond giving filmmakers an opportunity to listen to fans and promote on a more personal level, Twitter also narrows the gap between filmmakers and an emerging generation of writers and critics. For a filmmaker like Johnson, Twitter is a natural extension of the internet film culture he’s long been tapped into via message boards and blogs, but pushed into a warp speed that destroys traditional distinctions between the maker and the audience. “One of the big reasons I'm personally addicted to Twitter is that many of the people I follow are film writers,” Johnson said via email. “It's like being plugged into an instant feed of unfiltered snipes, gripes, praise and whatnot about whatever new film is out there, from this cloud of people around my age who largely share my tastes.”

Twitter’s detractors often bash the practice for being completely narcissistic, but the narcissism it compels is in some ways uniquely suited to filmmakers. In asking each user to leave a bread crumb trail representing their daily lives, it encourages us to think about our own seemingly silly day-to-day as a narrative, and to be more aggressive in shaping our own stories. This should answer the “Why bother?” question once and for all: in a time of mounting uncertainty, who wouldn’t like to feel more in control of their own destiny? “It forces us to be a little more conscious of how we're living our own lives, or at least forces us to express thoughts and feelings, with the notion, however illusionary, that we're being heard,” Johnson says. “I think there's value in that. Even if 90% of it does end up being the equivalent of ‘watching tv with my cats lol.’”

Follow Karina Longworth and FilmInFocus on Twitter.