I Made an Indie Mermaid Movie. Here’s What Happened Next.

Making an independent feature film is hard.

Finishing one is harder.

But something filmmakers don’t talk about nearly enough is what happens after you finish the movie.

I learned that firsthand with Erzulie, my independent feature about a group of women whose Louisiana getaway takes a supernatural turn when they encounter something lurking in the water.

Yes, I made a mermaid movie.

And years later, I’m still figuring out how to sell it.

I want to build a universe of mermaids.

And I'm curious to see where it goes next.

Like most independent filmmakers, we didn’t have unlimited resources. We made the best movie we could with the money we had, knowing from the beginning that Erzulie was going to be a little difficult to categorize.

It has horror.

It has comedy.

It has adventure.

It has LGBTQIA characters and a diverse cast.

And, of course, it has a swamp mermaid.

Creatively, those were some of the things I loved about the movie.

Commercially, they became much more complicated.

Our original distributor warned us about this. Movies that cross genres often require more time and creative marketing because distributors like knowing exactly where a movie belongs.

A horror movie is horror.

A comedy is comedy.

But what happens when you're a horror-comedy-adventure-mermaid movie?

You have to find the people who are willing to come along for the ride.

Here are some musings about what went wrong while filming ERZULIE.

We initially submitted Erzulie to some of the larger festivals that made sense for the film, including SXSW and Fantasia.

We didn't get in.

We did eventually play smaller local film festivals that invited us after hearing about the movie (In fact, this year a festival in Moscow contacted us almost 3 years since my initial submission that they were screening our film. This was quite a surprise. ), but I started questioning whether continuing to spend our limited resources on festival submissions was the best strategy. 

Unless we were going to land at a major festival capable of significantly moving the needle for the film, what were we actually buying with each submission fee?

So I decided to try something different.

Instead of paying for the possibility that someone might screen our film, I could spend that money putting on a screening myself.

Then I knew somebody would actually get to see it.

That decision turned into something of a grassroots theatrical tour.

We screened Erzulie in Austin.

Louisiana, including New Orleans and Shreveport.

Los Angeles

Portland.

Aberdeen, Washington.

And other places along the way.

We turned screenings into events rather than simply putting the movie on a screen and hoping people showed up.

That experience taught me something I still think about today:

Independent filmmakers don't necessarily have to wait for someone else to give their movie an audience.

Sometimes you can go find the audience yourself.

Could I have kept touring?

Probably.

If I hadn't eventually burned out, I honestly think I could still be touring Erzulie.

But grassroots distribution requires enormous amounts of time and energy. You're not simply the filmmaker anymore. You're producing events, marketing, reaching out to venues, building partnerships and convincing people to leave their homes and watch your movie.

Eventually, something has to give & unfortunately at the time, it was my mental health. I burnt out.

One of my favorite things to come out of the tour happened in Aberdeen, Washington.

There is a mermaid museum there.

And today, the actual Erzulie tail lives in that museum.

I love that.

After everything that went into making the movie and taking it around the country, this physical piece of Erzulie now has a home in a place dedicated to mermaid mythology and culture.

At least until I need it again.

Because I haven't entirely ruled out another movie.

More on that later.

Years later, I took the film to the American Film Market while exploring additional distribution opportunities.

That experience made me reconsider something incredibly basic:

The title.

Erzulie has meaning.

If you're familiar with Haitian Vodou or some of the folklore surrounding New Orleans and Louisiana, you may recognize the name immediately. I've actually met people who knew exactly what Erzulie referred to, and their recognition created immediate interest in the movie.

But most audiences don't have that context.

At a film market, where buyers may be looking at hundreds or even thousands of titles, ambiguity can work against you.

People want to understand what you're selling quickly.

And Erzulie doesn't immediately say:

SWAMP MERMAID MOVIE.

So I've been rebranding in a way that puts Swamp Mermaid directly into the title.

It's a small change that represents a much larger lesson I've learned:

The title you love creatively may not necessarily be the title that sells your movie.

Erzulie has received domestic distribution, but we haven't secured the international distribution I would like for the film.

So now I'm exploring something I never imagined I'd still be doing years after making it:

Distributing it myself.

The idea is to start territory by territory.

The United Kingdom seems like a logical first experiment because it's another English-speaking market. I also think there may be opportunities in parts of Asia, particularly given the popularity of creature movies and other mermaid-related projects in some markets.

And then there's an audience I didn't fully understand when we made the movie:

Actual mer-people.

There is an entire community built around mermaid performance and culture.

One of my friends, Cynthia Wade, directed the documentary MerPeople. Interestingly, I met her while I was touring Erzulie in Florida, when she was there working on the documentary.

Sometimes the audience for your movie is hiding in places you never thought to look.

That's led me to think differently about exhibition, too.

I've explored the idea of collaborating with professional mermaids and hosting Erzulie screenings at swimming pools.

Imagine a summer mermaid watch party: performers, swimming, photos, a community gathering and then the movie.

One of my dream screenings is even bigger.

There have been events around Lake Travis near Austin where audiences watch Jaws on the water.

I would love to someday program Erzulie as part of a double feature there.

Jaws and a swamp mermaid movie.

On the water.

Tell me that wouldn't be fun.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that maybe a movie this unconventional shouldn't always be exhibited conventionally.

There's another advantage to where Erzulie currently sits.

Nobody is waiting for us.

There isn't enormous pressure surrounding the film anymore, which means I have room to experiment.

We can try new artwork.

We can try a different title.

We can approach individual territories.

We can experiment with mermaid communities.

We can explore unusual screening spaces.

Some things will probably work.

Some probably won't.

And that's okay.

My biggest constraint right now isn't necessarily creativity.

It's time.

I'm balancing Erzulie with building Get Reelisms, developing new projects, continuing my directing career and, personally, healing.

There are only so many hours in a day.

So Erzulie has become a long-term experiment rather than a frantic release campaign and I have built it into my Get Reelisms lessons, so you can follow along with what went well or what didn't.

I turned ERZULIE into a learning tool. Follow along below.

The funny thing is, after all these years, I don't think of Erzulie as simply an old movie I'm trying to sell.

I think of it as IP.

I am currently building a mermaid universe.

I've been developing ideas for a significantly more ambitious feature that would expand the mythology and scale of this world. The easiest shorthand is something along the lines of X-Men meets mermaids, with the scale and world-building of a much larger genre movie.

That movie would require money.

Real money.

So I will write it and see what studio wants it.

James Cameron developed Avatar long before technology and circumstances allowed him to make the version he envisioned. Sometimes having an idea doesn't mean you have to make it immediately.

Maybe my job right now is to build the world.

This could eventually mean several movies.

Maybe comics.

Maybe experiential screenings.

Maybe something I haven't thought of yet.

Definitely international audiences.

When I look back at Erzulie, I sometimes wonder what I would have done differently.

I'm not sure there is much.

We did the best we could with the resources we had.

And I made a movie I'm still proud of.

That's one of the strangest things about independent filmmaking. We talk constantly about getting a movie made, but making it may only be the beginning.

Then you have to find the audience.

And sometimes finding that audience takes years.

I'm still figuring out where Erzulie belongs.

Maybe that's okay.

Because somewhere along the way, my goal changed.

I'm not just trying to sell an old independent movie anymore.

I am building a mermaid universe. And I want you to join me.

• Finishing your film is only the beginning. Finding its audience can take years, so plan for the time, energy, and resources distribution requires.

• You can create your own screening opportunities. Community partnerships, grassroots events, and unconventional venues can help you reach people who connect with your film.

• Stay open to giving your film a new life. A clearer title, fresh artwork, or a new market can open doors—and your original movie could become the foundation for a larger creative universe.

Here are a series of other important lessons that we learned from Erzulie and making other movies!