ANNIE SUNDBERG, PRODUCER

How did you and Hilary come together on this film?

I first met Hilary in 1994 when we were both working in documentary films in New York. We developed an instant kinship and through the years, we kept coming back to our true love of story. Both of us were English majors as undergrads, and Hilary actually got her Masters in English. I think we both knew that we wanted to move between the worlds of documentary fact and into narrative fiction someday, we were just looking for the right project.
In 1996, Hilary gave me the story "What Happened To Tully" and I was intrigued. I became really excited when I saw the first draft of the screenplay and we started to brainstorm in the evenings about how to make it happen. As we talked about the kind of film we would both like to make, "Tully" fit all the criteria we wanted to explore. I grew up in the midwest and had always wanted to set a film in that world. We are both really into character driven stories, and I'm an easy sell for a good love story.

There had been a trend toward really edgy urban films that seemed to look at such a small piece of the world, when a good percentage of the rest of the US has no representation of their lives on screen. Both Hilary and I were committed to making a film that celebrated Tully's world as a place we'd all like to spend some time; this was not a film about characters who are looking to escape, it's a film about discovering the beauty of the world in front of you, and how your life can be profoundly enhanced when you connect with the right people. Hilary and I agreed to produce the film together.

How does your documentary background apply to making narrative features?

Both Hilary and I believe that documentaries give you a tremendous learning environment, as you often have to deal with miniscule budgets, creative problem solving, and scripting as you go along. Story is just as present in cinema verite documentary form as it is in fiction features - there are just fewer tools like scripts, talented cast to help you achieve your goals.
When we were looking for a DP, it was important for us to find someone who shared our background and we really looked at DPs who had shot documentaries. I think it's crucial to have someone whose judgment you can rely on when the days go long and people have been baking in 110 degree August heat all day. A DP who has shot documentaries is comfortable making certain decisions that rely less on high end equipment (though we'd love to give that to John for the next film!), and there's a certain honesty and flexibility that comes from shooting documentaries, for both director and DP.

What was the toughest part for you as a producer?

Staying awake. Literally. Toward the end of our production, I really felt the pain of low budget filmmaking - from making decisions about how much film to shoot each day, to helping prioritize the schedules of the day - but it really came down to the fact that we couldn't afford to pay people enough to have someone stay up all night to watch the equipment trucks. One of our last nights of shooting - and we were just coming off splits - I got a call from within the apartment complex where we were staying that someone had been seen trying to break into our camera truck (I hope our insurance company doesn't read this). So I grabbed a sound blanket and went and sat out with the trucks until dawn. That's when I really felt like an independent film producer. You do sort of get your hand into everything.

What was the best part of production?

There are always so many moments on a shoot that make you feel amazed and so damn glad you're doing what you're doing. But the best moment for me was when I sat in the living room of Rich Hansen and Cindy Franck and explained to them why we really wanted to shoot the film on their land, in their home, and that we were going to completely alter their world for the next two months, and they said yes, we trust you, we think you have a good story. We couldn't afford to pay them much and they gave so many things back to our production.

In terms of pure beauty, there was a moment near the end of our time on the farm. We had shot into early evening and the fields and trees were glowing below an enormous harvest moon. Everyone stopped packing up the trucks; we all watched the moon rise and breathed that cold wet scent of earth and green at night. The summer had come to an end, fall was in the air and we were moving off our favorite location. I felt so in touch with why we were filming "Tully" in Nebraska. We had to - there was no other place for this story.