Animation
World Magazine, Issue 2.4, July 1997
Surviving MIP: A Buyer's Guide
by Theresa Plummer-Andrews
Everyone I know goes on the yearly pilgrimage to Cannes exhausted before they even get there. They have spent weeks bringing their notes up to date and juggling meetings in a schedule to which is almost impossible to keep. All of this happens on top of their normal working day, and in addition to the meetings they have had with people flying in to London before going on to Cannes!
Theresa Plummer-Andrews.
Every year myself and my colleague Michael Carrington, swear we're going
to organize ourselves so that we have a schedule with some breaks in it.
This wondrous thought gets more difficult as the kids business booms and
the competition for good programming for the UK market gets greater. The
MIP market expands year after year and we now have to try to cover five
floors of the most complicated building ever dreamt up by an architect
together, with the new "tent village!" We also have to cover
the meetings scheduled in various hotels and apartments along the Croisette.
It's hard on the brain so copious notes are made at each meeting. Mind
it's a killer for the feet as well, so rule number one is never to buy
new shoes to wear during the day at MIP.
A Few Givens
Most days start with the morning ritual of hunting for the MIP badge in
your hotel room, finding it and losing it again as you write up the faxes
to go back to the London office together with the notes from the previous
day's meetings. Then you scramble around again looking for that damn badge
with the dreaded thought that if you don't find it you're going to have
to pay Reed-Midem a lousy 7000 French francs to replace it, and all the
time it's been where you put it earlier - in the pocket of your handbag!
The little morning walk into the Palais is rather pleasant and quite interesting.
Some people stroll along knowing they are early for their first meeting
whilst others half-run, half-walk, with tight expressions on pale faces,
having overslept and missed the 9 a.m. catch up with the boss. We've all
done it at some time or another and it's an awful feeling.
The market for us is a mixture of screenings with distributors and meetings
with producers, co-producers, financiers, packagers, video companies, etc.
Most of these people are highly professional and have bothered to find
out what type of program we show on the BBC, so they don't trouble us with
anything unsuitable. In contrast, there are the meetings during which we
have to patiently explain that BBC Children's cannot possibly schedule
a documentary on transvestites in Outer Mongolia. It's time wasted and
is aggravating because it's prevented us from seeing someone else who might
have had the animation hit of the century.
There is a huge amount of children's programming at MIP and I would say
90% of it is unsuitable for us for one reason or another. Some of it is
out of our age range and we spend a great deal of our time explaining what
we do and don't show and what our age limits are. Other programs are so
violent they're offensive, and yet more is just plain dross and I wonder
how the people raised the money to produce the pilot in the first place.
I could put that money to better use!
Time Flies...
The first two days of the market your feet don't hit the ground. But by
the third day "the mid-market blues" descend and a weariness
takes over as you haven't found anything wonderful, or if you have, it's
going to cost more money than you can afford from the tiny acquisitions
budget the BBC allows. You're tired and guilty because you haven't had
the time to see all the people who have left messages at the BBC stand
- and you want to go home! However, the fourth day dawns and it's back
to the old routine. Life's okay and you've found a treasure which will
enlighten and enchant the little horrors of England - and you can afford
to buy it!
In the good old days we would leave the Palais at about 6 p.m., race along
to a cocktail party, head back to the hotel for the luxury of a bath, go
out to dinner and then hit the Martinez Bar until the early hours. This
latter activity stopped when producers started pitching new projects at
1 a.m., and the last straw was a pitch for a five minute animated series
at 2:30 a.m. inside the ladies loo. Beware, there are a few hours of each
day which are mine, even at MIP, and I am inclined to be a little bit touchy
at the thought of doing business in the loo!
The End is in Sight!
And so the last day arrives to see us at the BBC stand packing up all the
cassettes, scripts, projects and publicity material that we have accumulated
during the week to go back to London on a lorry. Then it's off to see the
person who had harassed my assistant for an appointment, only to find he/she
has already left and their stand is being torn apart. Alternatively the
person is still there but the MIP people have whipped up the carpet and
disconnected the televisions, which is highly annoying for everyone. Back
to the stand at lunchtime to buy champagne for the gallant people who have
manned the BBC stand all week. Spare a thought for them as they have been
abused, spoken down to and shouted at all week as they have patiently explained
to all and sundry that they do not have the diaries of the BBC buyers;
that they will give messages to them; that they are not responsible for
the fact that the buyer did not get back with a time and date, etc. It's
not an easy job and people should at least try to be polite and not shoot
the messenger.
At the airport in Cannes there are all the usual suspects on their
way home with blitzed brains, livers and stomachs. We've caught up with
most of our personal and business friends again (if only for five minutes
in the middle of a corridor), either found or sold some gem programming,
met at least a million new people and all we have to do now is get home,
unpack and go into the office to do the follow up. Don't ask me why we
go through all this on a twice yearly basis, but we do and it's the survival
of the fittest! The reward comes, later - when something you have bought
captures the imagination of our viewing audience and is successful. Eureka!
Theresa Plummer-Andrews is Head of Acquisitions & Creative Development
for the BBC.
