How to Get a Big-Budget Song in Your Low-Budget Indie Film

by Chris Suchorsky August 18, 2017

Want that big song, but don't have the cash? Read this.

[Editor's Note: No Film School asked Chris Suchorsky to write about how he secured the rights to a Tom Cochrane song for his indie documentary.]

One of the first lessons I was taught as an indie filmmaker was this: “Never use a song you won’t be able to clear the rights to.” Don’t write it into a script. Don’t add it to an edit. Don’t even think about it because you’ll never be able to clear it.

Well, I think that’s a stupid rule. Does that mean I think you’ll be able to clear "Bohemian Rhapsody" for that seven-minute sci-fi thriller you shot in your backyard with a T3i? Probably not—but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.

Plan to pay double if you use the song over your credits.

When I made my first short film Failure in 2003, the original cut included Social Distortion’s “Bad Luck.” The song was a perfect fit because the film chronicled my failed attempt at making a feature-length narrative film and mishaps I face along the way. When it came time to enter film festivals and eventually sell the film to IFC, I had to pull the song out of the film because I never thought I’d be able to afford it. On top of that, I wasn’t sure how I would track down Mike Ness, the lead singer of Social Distortion, to clear the rights. To this day, when I hear that song, I think of my film. Sadly, I’m the only one that thinks that because I never cleared the rights and ended up using a song I could afford. It was this experience that made me realize I would always go after the music that worked best in my films, not the music I thought I could afford.

Before I get into my personal experience of stalking musicians and negotiating a deal that doesn’t include mortgaging your home, we need to start with the basics. Below are three main hurdles you have to clear before you can use a song in your film.

1. Get Artist Permission

The first obstacle you’ll face is clearing the song with the artist. They’re not going to slap their song any ol’ film—they want to make sure their music is being represented appropriately. The greater the production, the more likely you are to get the green light. And if you’re nobody with nothing to show, they most likely won’t sign off until they see a finished product.

2. Clear Master Rights

Secondly, you need to clear master rights, AKA the record label. These are the guys that hold the actual rights to the physical recording. When an artist goes into the studio to record an album, someone has to pay for it; if a band/musician is signed to a record label, that label will pay for studio time, mixing, and production. Thus, they own the master rights.

Alternatively, if an indie artist pays for their own album, they may create their own record label to distribute the album. The artist then owns the master rights.

Record labels and publishers pay more attention to an email from a manager than they do a blind email from an indie filmmaker.

There are a number of ways to figure out who owns the master rights to a song. One way is to go to iTunes and search the name of the song. Once you click on the song and bring up the album, the record label will be listed under the album cover art.

3. Clear Publishing Rights

The third and final hurdle you’ll face will be clearing the publishing rights. Most musicians are too busy to look after the royalties they are due if one of their songs is used in a commercial, television show, or film, so they sign publishing deals where they’re paid upfront by a publisher. The publishing company then negotiates the rights on the artist's behalf.

Figuring out who holds the publishing rights can be a little trickier. The easiest thing to do is contact the artist's manager and have them point you in the right direction.

4. Negotiate Payments

Now that we understand that master and publishing are two separate rights, you should know these are also two separate payments. They are known as “per side.” What this means is if you were to go to a record label or publisher and negotiate a deal for a song, they might come back and offer the rights to use the song for $6,000 per side. This means you would pay the record label (master rights) $6,000 and the publisher (publishing rights) $6,000, totalling $12,000.

You also need to get these two companies to agree on a price. I’ve been in a situation where the record label wanted $2,000 and the publisher wanted $10,000. Both companies are usually paid the same amount; further, their contracts state that if one side is paid more than the other, you owe the other side the same amount. That means if you have a publisher that won’t budge on $10,000, you have to pay the record label $10,000, even if they only asked for $2,000. In this situation, a $4,000 song just became $20,000.

How I Secured the Rights to a Big-Budget Song

For the last five years, I’ve been working on my second feature-length documentary, A Shot in the Dark. The film follows a blind high school wrestler as he attempts to win a New Jersey State Championship. As I was shooting the film, I was constantly searching for music that would fit in the film. I would create playlists in iTunes and listen to a “potential soundtrack” as I drove to location for that day’s shoot. If I was on the treadmill at the gym, and a song played on the radio that I thought might fit, I’d Shazam the song or send myself an email with the title of the track so I could add it to my playlist when I got back to my computer.

When I sat down to edit the film, I used the music I thought best fit the film, not the music I thought I could afford. When I was done with the initial edit, I looked at the soundtrack I had created and began the arduous process of clearing rights.

I used the music I thought best fit the film, not the music I thought I could afford.

From the beginning, there was one song I always wanted to use my film: “Lunatic Fringe” by Red Rider. If you know anything about wrestling, you know this song. It was featured in the 1985 film Vision Quest starring Matthew Modine and has since become the anthem of every wrestler in North America. I never thought I’d be able to get this song, but I was going to try!

As soon as I began researching the song, I found out that Red Rider is a Canadian rock band lead by singer Tom Cochrane. When I saw that name, my heart sank a little. You might remember Tom Cochrane as the “Life is a Highway” guy. For the last 25 years, that song has been used in commercials, television shows, and movies around the world. In 2006, Rascal Flatts re-recorded the song for Pixar's Oscar winning film Cars. The odds of getting this song for my no-budget indie doc about a blind high school wrestler seemed bleak.

I decided my first step would be to track down Tom Cochrane and his manager. As I mentioned before, it’s easier to go to an artist’s manager before contacting a record label or publisher because the manager can put you in touch with the right person to clear those rights. On top of that, record labels and publishers pay more attention to an email from a manager than they do a blind email from an indie filmmaker. When I went to Tom’s website, his email along with his manager’s were listed. I sent them a short email describing the film and how I wanted to use the song. The following day, I received an email from Tom’s manager letting me know they were reviewing the film and would get back to me when Tom had made his decision.

Less than a week after I sent my initial request, I saw Tom Cochrane’s name in my inbox. He sent me a personal email letting me know how important he thought the film was and that he was giving the “okay” to use his song in my film. I was flabbergasted.

Minutes later, I was contacted by the Music Placement Manager at Universal Music Canada with the dreaded question we all face when it comes to clearing music rights: “What rights are you looking for and what kind of budget do you have for music licensing?” That’s when reality checked back in. I still had to negotiate a price for the song. I sat there and stared at the email for an hour. I thought to myself, “How do I tell Universal I don’t have any money for music? How do I tell Tom Cochrane I’m broke?”

"How do I tell Tom Cochrane I’m broke?"

I remembered another lesson I learned early on in my film career: never ask anyone to work for free. So I wrote the Placement Manager at Universal and explained, “This is a low-budget indie doc that has no money. With that said, I’m not asking for a handout. I want to pay for the song. I’m just asking for a fair price. Throw a number at me and I’ll see what I can do to get you what you need."

It was a long shot. I wanted World Rights for Television, VOD, Web, and Film Festivals in perpetuity (AKA forever, all over the planet). That’s a tall order. A few days later, I’m sitting at my desk working on the film, and I hear a ping letting me know I have a new email. My heart sank again. This was the end of the road. This was the moment they tell me they want $30,000 for a classic rock song that I’ll never be able to afford.

When I opened the email, I was a bit surprised. In so many words, the guy at Universal basically said, "Tom signed off on everything, you get all the rights you’re looking for, and it’ll cost X."

I looked at X. Then I looked at it again. Then I squinted to count the zeros and make sure the decimal point was in the right place. That was when I realized Tom Cochrane had given me the song for pennies on the dollar. Turns out, Tom was good friend with Jeff Healey, who you might remember as the blind musician in Road House or from his 1988 breakout hit “Angel Eyes.” I guess the film tugged at Cochrane's heartstrings; he wanted us to be able to use the song. I can never repay him for his generosity. 

But it wasn't over yet: I still needed to clear two other songs that had their rights tied up with big-name labels and publishers. And I was sure it wasn’t going to be as easy as it was with Mr Cochrane.

To make a long story short, the record labels and publishers for both of these artists came back with crazy numbers. One publisher wanted 10 times as much as the label wanted. The other artist’s label came back with a number that could buy you a new Honda Civic, just because the song plays over the end credits. Oh, yeah: plan to pay double if you use the song over your credits.

It was at this point, I remembered another lesson I learned from a friend who worked in sales. He explained to me that there are two goals in sales: one, get as much money as you can, and two, always close the deal. He explained that no matter what, these guys need to close these deals. They’ll start with a high number, but their main goal is to close the deal regardless of the price.

So I gambled and basically said, “I can’t buy you a new Honda Civic, but I can buy you a new set of tires. That’s the best I can do. If you can’t work with that number, I’ll have to use another song. I want to give you money. I hope you’ll take it.”

Surprisingly enough, they took it. 

Now, you’re probably wondering what I paid for these songs. What kind of numbers are we talking about? I can’t tell you what I paid for each individual song, but I will tell you this: One big-name publisher wanted $10,000 for the rights I asked for. I offered them $750. I presented my case, explained our story, and cried empty pockets. But I still offered to pay them. And after weeks of back and forth, they took it.  

Food Films, Yummy Recipes Re-imagined in the Distinct Styles of Famous Directors

Food artist and director David Ma has created a wonderful films series in which all sorts of yummy recipes being in the style of famous directors. Included in this series are Tarantino inspired spaghetti and meatballs, s’mores by Wes Anderson, waffles by Michael Bay and pancakes by Alphonso Cuaron.

How to Film Interviews

Ask yourself:
What is the subject/purpose/theme of my film?
What are some good questions I can ask my interviewees?
Why am I conducting these interviews; what do I hope to gain from this?
Where do I want to take this film or what do I want to do with it when I'm done?
Who do I want to film?
Do I want to be on or off camera when I ask the questions?

Watch television or documentary interviews.

Try to find films or television shows that have a similar subject to yours or that offer a style you hope to imitate.

Ask yourself these questions when viewing:
How is the interviewer asking their questions?
Where is the interviewee looking when answering the questions?
Where is the camera's focus?
Where is the light hitting on the subject's face?
How close or tight is the camera shot?
At what angle is the camera pointed and what angle is the interviewee sitting in relationship to the camera?

Prepare your interview questions.
Have at least 10 to 20 good questions prepared, and be prepared to ask more on the fly.
Be prepared to stray from the questions you have written down; your interviewee might offer information that you weren't expecting taking you in an entirely different, yet more interesting, direction.
Start with topical questions that will make your subject feel at ease; e.g., "What is your name?" "Where are you from?" These kinds of questions are easy for the interviewee to answer, which will help them to feel comfortable.
Save the hard questions for the tail end of the interview. A person tends to forget the purpose of the questioning and becomes more comfortable talking with you in front of a camera after about ten minutes.

Find willing participants.
The biggest fear of anyone that agrees to be on camera, is that the person interviewing them will make them look like a fool.
Be upfront with your interviewee with what you are doing and why you're doing it.
It is imperative that your subjects are okay with you asking them questions and comfortable with the idea of a camera being pointed at them. If they're not, you will have a resistant person and the interview will be difficult.
Some people will want a list of the questions before they agree to do the interview. They would not be what you would call an open-minded or willing participant. Think of them as apprehensive and consider asking someone more agreeable.

Filming the Interview

Have the set ready.
Your interview location and background are as important as the interview.
Know if you want the set to play a role and shape the tone of the interview, or if you want the subject to pop out from the plain or dark background.
Let the interview subject know you are not wasting their time. Have a place for your subject to sit and all the lighting in place at least 15 minutes prior to their arrival.
Adjust the lighting based on your subject's height and what they're wearing.
Place the camera where you want it to be before they arrive. Plan to adjust the height of the tripod and the camera settings once your subject is in place.
Have the camera on and be ready to shoot before the subject arrives.
Be prepared for last minute changes. Rarely do things go precisely according to plan in the business of filmmaking.

Follow the rules for camera and subject placement.
Know the rule of thirds. Place your subject's face on one of the axis points; i.e., where the vertical and horizontal lines intersect - also in red in the picture.
Film the interview subject straight on or at an angle (45 degrees is ideal). Filming straight on requires that you place the interviewee in the left third or right third of the camera's screen.
Have the interview subject speak directly to the person asking the questions, not directly into the camera. Sit near the camera (within 45 degrees), but not behind the camera, when asking questions.

Be comfortable interviewing.
Relax. If you're relaxed, you will put your interview subject at ease and they will relax.
Be confident. If you're prepared with your questions and you arrive early to the set, there's no reason to feel uncomfortable. You can do this, it just takes practice. This calm confidence will be silently communicated to your interview subject, and things should go well.

Ask open-ended questions.
Ask thought-provoking questions that cause the interviewee to pause and contemplate an authentic response. These are contemplation centred questions as opposed to content centred questions. For example, ask: What do you like/dislike about driving a car? What have you learned about driving over the years? Rather than: What is the purpose of the gas pedal? The last question leads the interviewee to your desired answer rather than letting them contemplate a personal response.

Listen actively to your subject.
Ask your subject a question, then listen to the answer. Pay close attention to the content of what they are saying, the context in which they are saying it, and what their face, body, voice, and eyes are really saying to you. Notice if they are uncomfortable with the question, and find out why without forcing the issue.
Nod with your head and focus your eyesight to acknowledge you are listening. Insert the occasional, "Yes", or "Uh-huh". Make sure you don't overlap or interrupt the interviewee. Your voice will be recorded also.

Knowing What to Avoid
Avoid a lawsuit. You can be held legally liable for many things such as defamation of character if the subject(s) of your film does not like the way you portray them. Get your interviewee's permission. Get a signed release form from your film subject if you plan on showing this film anywhere other than your home. Ensure you have location permission, too. Get a location release if you are filming in a location that does not belong to you; i.e., you do not own the property.
Avoid filming minors. Children under the age of 18 come with parents and a lot more responsibility for the filmmaker.
Avoid minors until you are an established filmmaker and more aware of the legalities that come along with this.
Avoid filming professional actors, especially union SAG or Equity actors (Screen Actors Guild). Again, until you are an established filmmaker, this is not an area you want to enter into because there are many laws and regulations when working with professional actors and minors or both.
Avoid running out of time. Make sure you have plenty of time booked at your location, charge left on your batteries and at least one back up battery, and storage space on your recording media (e.g., SD Card). An interview with one willing participant is likely to run 25-35 minutes, so be prepared.
Avoid asking yes or no questions; e.g., "Do you live in San Francisco?" The interviewee will most likely give you one-word responses. Don’t let the subject see any emotion on your face except pleasure. A person on camera is very aware of everything around them. If it is a bad interview, you may need to do another one, but it is more likely that you will find usable pieces of the interview when you head into post-production editing. It may take some people longer to really open up on camera than others.

4 Signs a Film is 'Hitchcockian'

Never not know what you're talking about again.

Picture this. You're out on a date with an attractive member of whatever sex you happen to prefer. You've made a mutual decision to catch a thrilling, dark or otherwise frighteningly suspenseful movie.

After the film, your respective partner turns to you and asks, "What did you think of that movie?" To which, you take a second, clear your throat and respond, "Well, this is obvious of course, but I found it to be immensely Hitchcockian." Your date cocks an eyebrow, wipes away a bead of sweat and says, "Of course."

Cleary, he or she is impressed. You've just sounded very smart. And that is that.

The term has become a blanket way of identifying anything that we find "good" or perhaps even "innovative" within the thriller genre.

It's a good thing they pretended to know what you were talking about, instead of asking you to both clearly and articulately define what it was exactly that made you describe the film in that way. It's safe to say, at that point, a lot of people (film critics included) would be screwed. The term has become a blanket way of identifying anything that we find "good" or perhaps even "innovative" within the thriller genre.

When you throw around "Hitchcockian" as a blanket term like that, you really lose an appreciation for what exactly makes a Hitchcock movie so unique. In her video essay Alfred Hitchcock and The Art of Pure Cinema for Art Regard, Luiza Liz Lopes does a fantastic job of breaking down what it is exactly that makes a film "Hitchcockian."

Here's what we took away.

1. Hitchcock uses film as a place for audiences to project their anxieties

This could very well be the most overwhelmingly identifiable trait of a Hitchcockian movie.  As Lopes puts it, "Cinema invites you to reflect on your own impulsions and anxieties, considering which role you want to play when you juxtapose your psychological interpretations to the filmmaker’s intention." We use the word overwhelming here because the feelings of dread that Hitchcock's characters feel quickly become our own. It is the level of depth at which we feel personally connected with the film that made Hitchcock such a master at exploiting his audiences.

"Suspense in Hitchcock’s filmography is powerful because it is structural, it is character-based and, there, blurs the line between our reality and the diegetic space," Lopes notes. "As spectators, we often stare at the diegetic space through the eyes of individual characters, but Hitchcock’s use of point-of-view reveals much more than just a voyeuristic gaze. We are invited to look through Hitchcock’s eyes entering the shell of his personality and discovering the rooted perversions that may be also in our own nature, inherent to the human condition."

“Hitchcock’s films evoke the underlying forces that form our imagination,” Lopes explains. The beauty here is not simply that we feel uncomfortable watching some graphic scene of violence in a film, it is that we feel almost responsible for rendering that violence upon them, and what's more...we kinda liked it. The uncomfortable feeling comes from us worrying about our own perversions, which is an altogether more terrifying prospect.

Especially when on a date."Psycho" Credit: Paramount Pictures



2. Hitchcock's films were a way for him to deal with his own worst fears

Hitchcock once said, “The only way to get rid of my fears is to make films about them." Lopes describes these films as "projections, dreams, constantly evoking childhood fears and commonly repressed dreads as motifs in his filmography; voyeurism, the fear of heights, murder, betrayal, guilt, or even the unsettling notion that chaos lies just underneath the surface of everyday life.”

These aren't your standard B-movie horror monsters. Hitchcock understood that we are the most terrified when we understand "that the evil doesn’t lurk behind a door, but it is constantly there, around us, watching.”"Vertigo" Credit: Universal Pictures

3. Hitchcock knows you're watching

It's true that the gaze plays a very important role in many of Hitchcock's films. It's also important, however, to realize that voyeurism is employed as more than just a thematic device (as is the case in Rear Window.) Hitchcock took it a few steps further.

We've touched on how his craft causes the audience to project their own desires through the eyes of the film's characters, but he was also one of the first to use film as if it had eyes of its own. As Lopes puts it, Hitchcock's films are "aware of its spectator’s gaze as much as we are aware of the camera and its impossibilities."

There is something exciting about voyeurism and, as the audience, it often feels like we're able to get away with watching these secrets unfold before our very eyes.  “It was Hitchcock that first understood cinema’s obsession with gaze," Lopes claims. He didn't shy away from "the fetish and the desire that the camera imposes in us spectators.” Instead, he embraced it and thus we feel as if the film is somehow judging us for sitting idly by as the character's stories descend further into dread.

"Rear Window" Credit: Paramount Pictures

4. Hitchcock mastered every tool at his disposal

As Lopes is keen to point out, “Hitchcock mastered every single aspect of filmmaking: screenplay, cutting, photography, sound.” Not only was he a master of all these tools, but he used them all to serve in the respect of building up suspense. "Suspense is the core logic of Hitchcock’s films," Lopes argues. "His almost perverse choices that build up the tension by emphasizing details, bringing the audience closer, breaking the action into puzzle pieces, revealing the hidden psychological meanings behind what is perceived."

She further identifies a few specific examples of how Hitchcock would employ these tools. Take montage, for example. Lopes describes the way the director uses them as "if the shots and scenes are words, the montage assemble phrases and, by doing so, perform a dual role: they obstruct and clear, the reveal and hide both the transcendental value of the cinematic image and the structure of the narrative."

She also isolates Hitchcock’s use of slow dissolves as transitions that "disclose something that was once hidden from the characters, but at the same time, bring the audience to a clearer understanding of the frightful mystery that is the act of seeing and perceiving.