RACHAEL FUNG: Spirit Awards Producers Award Nominee

By Barbara Twist

With multiple features under her belt, LITTLE WOODS (2018), THE GIANT (2019), and FREMONT (2023), and the upcoming SOMEWHERE IN DREAMLAND, Rachael Fung is staying busy with her producing work, yet she still has time to advocate for producers, which she finds critical to making producing sustainable for independent film.

A nominee for the 2024 Producers Award at the Film Independent Spirit Awards, Rachael Fung shares with Dear Producer how she keeps collaboration at the forefront of her relationships with directors, her journey to producing FREMONT (nominated for the John Cassavetes Award and Breakthrough Performance at the 2024 Spirit Awards), and her passion for getting producers the recognition they deserve.

Tell me where you were when you heard about the Spirit Award nomination. How did it feel?

I wasn’t actually watching the nominations being announced because I was Zooming in on an ADR session for a film that I’m in post on right now. One of the writers of FREMONT, Carolina Cavalli, found out I wasn’t watching and was celebrating and berating me at the same time saying things like “Why the f*** did you miss it?” and “OMG I’m so mad!” and “I enjoyed it for you.” She’s Italian – she is very expressive. 

She told me about the nominations – for myself with the Producers Award, which I’m so pleased about, and then for FREMONT being nominated for the John Cassavetes Award and of course Anaita with her Breakthrough Performance nomination. It was really exciting and I had my own little celebration. Thankfully, I was muted and the camera was off so they couldn’t see me. 

Obviously, it’s a huge honor, especially considering how few awards there are that recognize producers. It’s also a little push to say, “Hey, you’re on the right track.” From my conversations with other producers, and those involved with the Producers Union, we all know that independent producing can be a very thankless and oftentimes very isolating job.It’s really meaningful to know that someone has seen my films, responds to what I’m doing, and appreciates the work. It’s a nice reminder of why I put myself through the stress of independent producing. 

The first feature you produced was LITTLE WOODS with director Nia DaCosta. I’m curious how your collaboration came about. You were both at NYU at the same time?

Nia and I both went to NYU but we only had one class together freshman year. Then I swear I never saw her again at NYU. It was by chance that four years after we graduated, the company I was working for at the time was taking over the office lease of a production she was wrapping. I was surveying the office as they were cleaning up and remembered her from freshman year. I don’t know that I believe in fate, but that was a pretty fateful run-in. 

We had coffee and realized we were both at a similar place in our careers where we just wanted to start making our own stuff instead of constantly making stuff for other people. We talked about what we wanted to do, what sort of films we wanted to make, and she said, “I think I’ve got a film that fits what you’re looking for right now.” I read it and said, “I love this. Let’s make it.” And that was LITTLE WOODS. 

One thing I’m pretty upfront about when I work with directors is that I like to be quite involved creatively. I like to give notes. You don’t have to take them, but I want you to at least think about them because if I’m giving notes, it’s probably for a reason. It could be a creative suggestion or it could be to do with the business side and the viability of actually making the film a reality. Is the film going to be able to survive in a marketplace, or pragmatically, can we actually do this? Is it realistic for the budget that we can raise? Nia was very collaborative in that way and as we developed the script, I found it very rewarding to be a part of that process and have involvement on a creative level. 

I believe it’s important for a producer to find a project that is a right fit for them, and it’s also important for filmmakers and projects to find the right producer, because the last thing you want as you’re about to embark on a multi-year journey is to end up being resentful of that working relationship. In the end, the project will suffer. I remember caring about the story and wanting to get that message out there and thinking Nia showed great drive and great vision. That’s why I wanted to work with her.

Nia DaCosta and Rachael Fung working out the shooting schedule for LITTLE WOODS in
Austin, Texas. Photo by Gabrielle Nadig

Was FREMONT a similar collaborative experience?

With FREMONT, I came on pretty late to the project. Babak Jalali, the director, had developed the film with Marjaneh Moghimi, who is a Bay Area producer. They had been working on the film for something like five or six years and had built a team of producing partners to help shepherd the project over that time. Unfortunately, she got quite ill and at the end of 2021, had to tell the team that she was not likely going to be able to see the project through. (Sadly, Marjaneh Moghimi passed away days before shooting began).

That was around the time when the team approached me to come on board – they all really wanted to get it made but no one was leading the charge and due to other commitments, no one could dedicate the time towards the project to make it their priority. They didn’t have the full budget yet, but they had a date in mind and said “Do you think you can do it?” Another project that I was attached to had fallen through and I had a gap in my schedule so timing was perfect. I saw Babak’s second film, RADIO DREAMS, then read the script for FREMONT, and could so clearly see his vision and voice for the film. That was all I needed to jump into it. 

I dove in the deep end. I started talking to them in January 2022, and by March, I was on a plane. April, we were in prep, and May, we were shooting. It was extremely quick on the front end so I didn’t have that time to really collaborate on the development that I’m used to, but Babak was a great partner and we sort of did the development process I’m used to throughout the making of the film. 

Carolina and Babak would adjust the script as we prepped while I re-budgeted and figured out what could and could not happen for the money raised at that point; all this while we went through the casting and location scouting process. Through production, we adapted again; and then in the edit, we re-wrote almost the entire film structurally. We joke that it was convenient that Donya, the lead character, wears her work outfit a lot, so continuity was not a huge issue as we were shuffling scenes around. Babak edited the project too and he was so open to feedback that I never had to feel self-conscious saying to him, ‘Hey, I think this scene should go after this scene, and I think this should lead on to this. Why don’t we try putting this up here and breaking these up?’ He was always willing to experiment and try things out.

Producing is keeping a project on track and on budget while motivating a crew and making sure they’re all safe, healthy, and happy while they’re making the film. For me, it’s the creative side as well – that’s something that I find really rewarding – and I’m grateful that Babak was open to that sort of relationship.

How early are you thinking about the audience and the distribution for your films? And how are you balancing the director’s vision with your investors’ expectations of who the audience is, or could be?

Honestly, I’m thinking about the audience and the marketing pretty early on. It’s really important for me to understand why a director wants to tell a particular story, what they want to say and what the film is about to them, because I need to make sure we’re on the same page. Then I look at how it fits into the marketplace both in terms of who I think the audience is and who will actually care to see the film. From that, I think about who will be willing to partner with us financially or otherwise to make it a reality. If we are just making a film that’s going to exist in some myopic silo with no real path to being seen, I feel I’m not doing my job as a producer. If we’re trying to say something with our film, I want to make sure people actually hear it. 

Being able to find the fine balance between the director’s vision and ensuring there is a feasible path for this film to get to market is really important, especially because so many independent films are financed through private equity. Often, that means individuals entrusting us with their personal funds to create a film. The responsible thing to do is to make sure that there is at least a chance that they can try and recoup their money from the film.

For example, when Babak came to me and said he wanted to make the film in black and white, that warranted a serious discussion. I had a sense of the considerations of black and white in terms of sales and distribution so I knew this would affect the financiers’ investments and needed their buy-in on the decision. I did the research and talked to sales agents, buyers, distributors, and other producers to ask what the pros and cons of black and white were. Pretty much no one had a “pro” but I knew this was something important to Babak. I had to figure out if we could justify the creative decision and not ruin the potential life of the film long term.

I’m a big believer in building sustainable relationships with financiers and not burning bridges through a complete disregard for the fact that they are putting their own money on the line. The sustainability of the independent film industry is reliant on these equity investors believing in the little “unproven” projects; the least we can do is make sure that they feel fully aware of the decisions that are being made with their money. 

With this film, we did not have a big “bankable” lead, it’s in three different languages, and, on paper, it does not seem like the most marketable film. So while all my research was saying that audiences (and therefore distributors) would be turned off by black and white, we also knew that that particular audience – the one that sees black and white and thinks “boring” – was, honestly, probably not our audience. So why not lean into the film that we knew we were and go all in on who our actual audience would be? Ultimately, we felt the black and white was probably a way to help us stand out in a sea of thousands of films. That was how I justified it business-wise. It was certainly tougher to sell the film but I also don’t think the film would have been the same had we shot it in color.

You sold the film to Music Box Films for your domestic release. Can you go into why you chose them and what the experience has been like?

Our sales agents, CAA, presented us with a few offers and helped us meet with the different distribution teams. It was important for me to understand what the distributors saw in the film, why they responded to it and how they planned to get the film out there. 

Music Box Films introduced us to their team in the first meeting, telling us who was in charge of what, and clearly laid out their strategy of when to release the film and why. I’m so grateful that they leaned into a theatrical strategy and really believed that the film could exist in theaters. 

The film is a dark comedy; Donya is an Afghan translator who worked with the US Army before fleeing the Taliban and ending up in Fremont, CA. She starts working at a fortune cookie factory and decides to send a message looking for companionship out into the world inside one of the cookies. When Babak introduces the film, he often tells the audience that it’s okay to laugh. Oftentimes, when something is culturally different, there can be a question of whether it’s appropriate to laugh at something but he is quite insistent that if you are inclined to do so, you should. I feel that being in a theater surrounded by other people who also (hopefully) find it funny helps ease those concerns and elevates the viewing experience. 

Music Box has been truly so wonderful to work with. Not only is everyone a true pleasure to work with, I felt they really cared about the film and I’m so pleased with how it’s performed at theaters – I hope they are as well! (FREMONT grossed $271,315 domestic, in theaters for 14 consecutive weeks, with the widest release at 32 theaters. Globally, it has grossed above $750,000 and is continuing to open in international territories.) 

Rachael Fung, Babak Jalali, and Sudnya Shroff at the Karlovy Vary international
premiere of FREMONT

Were there any specific markets where it was released and you were surprised by the response?

I was so fascinated by how we performed in the Czech Republic. Our international premiere was at Karlovy Vary in June 2023, followed by a September release there. Through social media, we found that the staff of one of the theaters liked the film so much that they recreated scenes from the film, hairnets and everything. I remember prior to the premiere that I was worried maybe the humor wouldn’t translate – after all, it had been translated from Dari (the Afghan dialect of Farsi) to English and then to Czech – but to know that the film resonated with people there was pretty cool. It’s one of those moments where you think to yourself, “Oh, OK, people get it and they like it.” It motivates me to keep going. 

Shifting to a macro level, as you look ahead to the future, what do you see as the biggest challenges facing independent producing right now?

Oh, Barbara, you’re going to get me on a rant now.

I love it. That’s exactly what I want.

If I were to sum it up in one word, it would be sustainability. The reality is that independent producing is truly a labor of love. We get paid so very little on our films with no standardized minimums and we receive no healthcare or pension contributions like our collaborators in their guilds and unions. We also don’t get paid over time. If the project goes long, we don’t see any additional fees to recognize the fact that we are not able to take other work because we are still on the same project the way everyone else who is paid daily or weekly does. Our fees remain the same regardless of how long we work on a film and we are usually not compensated for years of development work that goes into getting a film into production. If a project went on hiatus during the strike, and picked back up and had to go through prep again, other crew members are seeing additional fees to account for the fact that they’re having to redo the work. As producers, we don’t receive additional compensation. 

I think a lot of people assume producers are getting paid massive amounts and do no work, but the reality is that we – the Producers Union – are currently trying to fight for a minimum salary, which we’re suggesting to be approximately 30k for a 1mil film,  as our floor. And yet, there are people out there who don’t think our work is worth that amount. Meanwhile, I’m still managing the LLC for LITTLE WOODS which was filmed in 2017, premiered at Tribeca in 2018 and was released theatrically in 2019. I don’t get a single additional cent for doing that work year after year. How are we supposed to be able to pay our rent and bills when we’re only making what works out to probably something like five cents an hour?

I feel this is one of the biggest roadblocks to why so many great producers tap out after a certain point. Most producers I know have other jobs to supplement their producing work. That is a shame because it means less independent films will get made as a result of us having to go find other ways to make a livable wage instead of producing and developing.

I’m grateful that as a producer I’ve learned how to manage a budget, because that’s what I do in my daily life. I have friends who laugh at how I check my receipts and go through my bank statements, but I’m like, “It’s because I need to know!” I may not get a paycheck for the whole next year if I’m developing projects and not in production so I need to know where every cent goes. I know this year was an exception with the strikes when a lot of people were in the same boat, but I’ve not received a paycheck in over six months at this point. I am having to budget myself carefully because at this moment, I don’t know when the next paycheck is coming. And I feel like for a lot of independent producers, there’s this tension of whether I put my time into developing projects that may never get made or will only pay me a few years down the line versus spending that time on something else that I can use to pay rent and bills. 

I remember being told years ago that if you don’t go out and make your own dreams happen, someone will continue to pay you to make theirs happen. It’s something I keep in the back of my mind all the time. If I care about a film and I want to see it made, I (sadly) cannot expect anyone to pay me to do that and instead I have to invest in myself and my own beliefs to make it a reality.

We’re so fortunate that Film Independent does recognize producers with this award because we really don’t get much recognition otherwise. If the film does well, it’s not often that the producers are given credit for their contributions. I’m not saying we’re the only ones who contribute to the film – it always is and should be a team effort – nor that we should get all the credit, but I feel like the time invested and the creative input and work from the producers is not often acknowledged. We put our blood, sweat and tears into these films and we’re often giving it everything we can to make sure the film survives and gets to an audience. But for some reason, that dedication doesn’t seem to count as much as what comes from the traditionally “creative” roles on a film.

The way we are treated at festivals is something that is a good example. It’s starting to change thankfully, but historically most festivals don’t name the producers in the catalog, the announcements or on the website. There have been festivals that I’ve gone to where, as a producer, I could not get a badge as a filmmaker for my own film. Instead, I was a “guest of the director” or told I had to pay for my own badge while actors – even if they only worked one day on the film – and sales agents were given complimentary badges. To be told that I need to spend $800 to buy a badge to attend my festival premiere when I’m already paying thousands to travel and house myself, and knowing I got paid next to nothing to begin with, that’s a bit of a punch in the gut. It’s really depressing to think about how little producers are valued for the work that we’re doing. I know it sounds like I’m crying big-time tears here but–

Not at all. The producer is a critical part of the film and deserves to be recognized. Particularly if you’re never going to see a backend profit!

Exactly. I told you this was going to start a rant! If the film is a terrible disaster, we’re often the ones left holding the bag. If the film is a huge success, we’re often not sharing or seeing any of the successes that come with it. 

That’s where it can get really hard to stay motivated to keep doing this and why I do hold onto things like an award nomination, a festival acceptance, or just hearing that someone has responded to the film. I’ve realized over the years that someone emailing me to say, ‘Hey, I watched your film, and I really liked it,’ means so much to me. I’ve started doing that now. If I see a film that I really like, I will reach out to the producer because being able to make any sort of film is a huge feat and I want them to know that I see them and appreciate their work. 

To wrap up our conversation on a positive note, what is keeping you excited as a producer?

Haha! Yes, sorry if I took this interview to a terribly dark place. Thank you for putting up with that! What does excite me is seeing films and content that is fresh and not seen before. That’s what attracted me to FREMONT. I would never have expected to see Chinese and Afghan characters on screen together in their respective languages. That combination was just not something that would have occurred to me. Then again, as Carolina and Babak write in the script, China and Afghanistan share a border, so why haven’t we seen these people on screen together? 

I’m excited by new voices and new perspectives and the changing landscape of the industry where we can see films from filmmakers of diverse and varied backgrounds. Hearing from those whose stories have traditionally not been heard and finding that universality of the human experience to find connection and build empathy. I’m excited to get to a place where we don’t have to see people in roles that reflect stereotypes. I’m excited to work with filmmakers and crews who don’t fit the traditional mold, who make me learn new things about humanity and who are ready to push boundaries. 

I feel like independent film is all about forging new pathways and showing that stories and characters and experiences that are maybe unproven in the marketplace can find their audience and I’m excited to keep pushing to bring those to screen.