Solve Bigger Problems

The only job that actually exists is “problem solver”. The bigger, badder problems you can be trusted to solve, the more you get paid. That’s it.
~Shaan Puri

Most filmmakers think they have a funding problem or a network problem.

They're wrong.

But they'll spend a decade discovering this the hard way.

THE PATTERN

Every week, the same scene plays out in coffee shops across LA, New York, Austin, and every city in between.

A filmmaker sits across from someone with money. They pitch their passion project - the script they've been working on for years, the story only they can tell, the vision that will change cinema forever.

The person with money smiles. Nods. Says all the right things: "Love it." "So needed." "Keep me posted."

Then… crickets. And the check never comes.

The filmmaker walks away confused. “The script is solid! The pitch was polished. The comp titles made sense. So what went wrong?”

Nothing went wrong. The system worked exactly as designed.

The filmmaker just didn't understand what game they were playing.

THE COST

Here's what no one tells you: investors don't invest in films.

They invest in people who solve problems they can't solve themselves.

When you pitch a film, they hear: "Give me money to solve MY problem.” When they invest, they're thinking: "I want to pay you to solve MY problem."

The misalignment is complete.

Most filmmakers spend their entire careers asking investors to fund their creative projects. They're solving a smallproblem - a problem that only exists for them. 

The investor isn't struggling because you can't make your movie. Neither is the distributor. Neither is the director you want to work with. Neither is the moviegoer scanning options every weekend.

They have plenty of movies to choose from.

Your unmade film isn't a problem worth solving for anyone except you.

This is why the pitch meetings go nowhere. Why the checks don't come. Why a decade disappears and you're still "almost there" on the same project.

You're offering to move pebbles. They need someone who can move mountains.

THE TURN

There was a moment on my first film when someone called it a "vanity project."

This was after we'd sold it at a major festival to a well-known distributor, after years of work, after everything we'd sacrificed to make it exist.

The word stung. Still does, honestly.

But they were right.

That film solved our problem, our need to make something, and for me to prove I could, to call myself a producer. It didn't solve anyone else's problem. Not really.

Why would they call it that? It took me years to untangle, but they were saying: "That film didn't solve anyone's problem except the filmmaker's."

And yet, someone bought it. So maybe they were also wrong?

It took me years to untangle this, but the lesson stuck. The lesson isn't "don't make personal films." The lesson is: if you want capital, collaboration, and momentum in you career, your personal film must solve someone else's problem too.

A market problem. A distribution problem. An audience problem. Or a capital deployment problem.

Something bigger than "I want to make a movie."

“You can have everything in life you want, if you will just help enough other people get what they want.”
~Zig Ziglar

Once I saw this pattern, I couldn't unsee it. Every funded project, every successful producer, every enduring career, they all understood this law instinctively.

THE SCALE

Here’s how problems scale in film:

A filmmaker solving their own problem might attract $10-20k from investors, if they’re lucky to raise any money at all. These might be family and friends, or 2nd degree connections who have money to give. Because that’s what they’re doing - they’re giving the filmmaker money without any expectation to ever see it again, let alone with interest. 

A filmmaker solving a market problem might be able to raise a few hundred thousand to a few million. They’ve identified an underserved audience, or a distribution gap, or they found some proven IP with a built-in audience. 

A filmmaker - or as I like to call them, an Architect - solving an industry problem through a new distribution system or a scalable production system can attract $10M+.

The pattern is everywhere once you see it. 

When you study the successful producers, every one of them started by solving problems others couldn’t or wouldn’t. Many started as PAs or producer/director assistants. They solved a small problem - help the person they work for stay on task and not have to run errands or relay messages to people on the crew. 

Then they became producers solving larger problems. Blumhouse solved “how do we make profitable horror films on indie budgets?” Netflix even solved bigger and bigger problems and now they’re the largest streamer in the world. 

The industry not only rewards problem-solvers with bigger budgets and bigger returns, but with bigger problems to solve. 

THE ARTIST TRAP

Most filmmakers see themselves as artists first, not architects.

This isn't wrong, it's just limiting.

The artist wants to solve their own small problem: their own creative expression. Yes, it feels like a massive problem to them, but the rest of the industry doesn’t know or doesn’t care about the problem. 

And when that's the ONLY problem you solve, the market has no reason to care.

There will always be more actors than roles, more directors and cinematographers than projects, more projects than capital to fund them.

You know this. You've lived it. And yet you keep acting like the exception will be made for you because your script is "different" or your vision is "necessary."

"But we can make 200 $1M indies for the price of one Scorsese film!"

Sure. And those 200 films will get made by 200 different filmmakers who each found a way to solve someone else's problem. Not by you, standing outside the system, demanding it change to accommodate your creative needs.

This choice is in front of you at all times: complain about the reality, or align with it.

One path leads to bitterness and unfinished projects. The other leads to a career. 

The identity shift required is from "I make films" to "I solve problems that require films to solve them."

The deeper question is: what problem in the world keeps you up at night that (your) film is uniquely positioned to solve?

THE INEVITABILITY

Every day, filmmakers wonder why the money doesn't come.

The money is already here. Someone woke up this morning with an abundance of the thing you need. They're just waiting for someone solving a problem big enough to matter to them.

When I came up with the idea for a fund, people asked: "How'd you think of that?"

The simplified answer is that I saw an opportunity to solve bigger problems, and build a new system to do it consistently.

The first four films I produced each solved progressively bigger problems. But they were still one-offs. Each required starting from zero, rebuilding trust, repackaging the same uncertainty.

The fund solves a different problem entirely: how do I make backing independent films predictable, repeatable, and profitable for investors? How do I remove the "vanity project" risk from the entire equation? How do I create a system that liberates stranded capital?

That's a problem worth $10M, not $100K.

When you align your pitch - your offer - with bigger problems, and have earned the trust of those you’re pitching to (a post for another day), the money follows. People come to you and enroll in your project. Everything gets easier. 

Stop asking investors to fund your dream. Start solving problems they’ll pay you to fix. 

The work isn’t making films - it’s identifying which problems are worth solving, then building the system that makes solving them inevitable. 

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this week's essay! Leave a comment below and let me know.