What is a Producer, anyway?

Rachel Prendergast
Apr 24
6 min read

Oh the wonderful question I get asked frequently. Usually at events with students when the entire class want to be directors or DP’s and my presence and input is greeted with huffs, sighs, and an unwelcome interruption to the camera chat. It’s ok though - I also didn’t know what a producer did - or the importance of one - and it was only on the day that Rich suggested I be one that I thought I’d best do some research.

It was like pulling back the Wizard of Oz curtain of production and discovering an army, led by a dishevelled, tired, coffee drinking, person with a look of determination, passion and slight insanity in their eyes….ah…. that’s the producer.

There are a lot of different types of producers, and as you go up the food (money) chain of project size, there is more definition and separation between these many types. If you were to ask Google what an independent producer does, you'd get something along the lines of “organises, finances and oversees the creation of films outside of a major studio system.” Sounds like a doddle.

However, if you asked me what being an independent producer does, it actually sounds a little more like this…

Being a producer in my world is often like spinning plates. Whilst juggling. On a tightrope. Blindfolded. Occasionally on fire. It’s insanely unpredictable and spontaneity happens so often that it no longer feels spontaneous, it’s just sort of the regular order of things. Things with no order that is.

Over the passed decade I have consistently voiced my disdain for creativity and create types. Being married to one, it’s very easy to roll your eyes and waft around my martyred expressions of “Oh god, living with a creative is such a nightmare!” - yet I have been labelled creative by so many friends it got me thinking, am I creative? Gosh, I do hope not. But when I chatted to another producer just recently, we discussed our mutual love of problem solving amongst the chaos of a shoot and how you have to get creative to get things done. And there it was. Creatively problem solving. A huge part of my work is finding locations, cast, crew, money, contacts - and how I go about that is often in a creative (blagging) way. So I’ll write this next bit quick, and I’d appreciate it if you read it quickly so we don’t dwell on it too much - but I do apologise for creative bashing you all. Seems there is a slither of it in me too.

In fact, it’s not a slither at all, it turns out producing is PACKED with creativity. As well as being mind-bendingly stressful, occasionally euphoric, regularly disheartening, and never-predictable, it’s a job that annoyingly, I could now never imagine not doing. Yet, despite all this - and I have attempted to leave it behind and get a normal job - it seems I am tethered now. Tethered to this career and label that has woven it’s way into every element of my life. After the regular morning anxiety subsides, I find I still want to do it again today, and tomorrow, and the next day.

At SubMotion, we run two parallel tracks. On one side, we make commercials, branded content, and the kind of purposeful storytelling pieces we’re super proud to put our name to. On the other side, we’re developing our own long-form film projects.

The commercial work keeps the lights on (and occasionally feeds my children IF the budget allows), and it also allows us to develop films on the side. The dream is that one day, both sides feed each other perfectly, like a well-oiled, beautifully chaotic creative ecosystem. I also think the world of film and brands are coming into a new era of collaboration, but I’ll chat about that another time.

As the producer across both sides of the business, I bridge two very different worlds. I can be in a meeting in the morning about a corporate EVP film and then pitching a dystopian sci-fi feature by 2pm, only to be brought crashing back to reality by the school run at 3. Which is more akin to a horror pitch to be honest.

Producing is also super glamourous.

Said no-one ever.

Don’t get me wrong, there are definitely moments you celebrate, and I like donning the glad rags as much as the next person, but this moment is short lived for me. As soon as a project finishes, it’s onto the next one. The producers are often the unsung heroes of films and ads, hunched over their laptops in whatever makeshift office they can muster up, and I’ve yet to meet one whose motivation is to be on the podium with an award. When I have produced projects that have gone on to win accolades, I love to see them get recognition, but the overwhelming feeling is relief. Then, I dust down, and move on.

But the glamour does seep in sometimes. I remember reading the opening paragraph of the fab book “Producer to Producer” by Maureen A. Ryan. She describes being on the ground, in the mud, in period attire. Wondering how the flip she got there - she remembers - she’s a indie producer on a low budget feature and they couldn’t afford extras. When I read this, I was so relieved. I have been roped into more of the projects I’ve produced than I’d like to count. Always feeling embarrassed and awkward, but also knowing that if I don’t step in, we have no time/money to find someone else. I have since learnt this is a very common thing and although I’d hesitate to say I embrace it, I just get on with it now. Oh, and always rock up to any shoot with my make-up bag - see - I told you - glamour!

I have also learnt how to weather costumes, fit prosthetics (badly), do basic sound recording, be a boom op (worst job in the world for someone with pathetic arms like me) and I’ve played a posh land owner, a beast, a nurse, an army Mum and god knows how many extras. But, you know what, the project always gets done and when others see me mucking in, it reinforces our collaborative work approach.

But here’s the truth no one tells you when you set off down this road: being an independent producer isn’t just about making things, it’s about making things possible. How do we bring that vision to life, how do we get that location, how can we stretch this budget as far as possible. It’s spreadsheets and snacks. Schedules and script notes. It’s sitting in meetings with clients talking about key messages and ROI, and then hopping on a Zoom with a potential sales agent about distribution windows and territories (an area of producing I am learning so much about!).

It’s knowing how to convince someone to give you money for a film that doesn’t exist yet, and then knowing how to spend that money wisely once they do. It’s calling in every favour you’ve ever earned, and then some. My poor family and friends have been roped into so many things - a few that stick in my mind is the time my Dad (87 at the time) came in so last minute for a shoot where he snuggled up to a Henry Moore statue. Sorry and thank you Dad. And the time we put our kids who were 2.5 and 5 in a short film...the Mum guilt is rife.

The funny thing is, after almost a decade now, and some pretty great projects under my belt with SubMotion and also as a freelancer - you never really feel like you’re doing it “right.” There is no big boss giving you a gold star at the end of the week (I WISH there was!). There’s no office Christmas party (unless you count warm Prosecco on the sofa or gatecrashing your clients). You’re just… making it up as you go. And hoping and praying that one day, something good sticks.

And sometimes, miraculously, it does.

A film gets made. An audience is moved. A client comes back. A commissioner says, “Yes, let’s talk.” And you remember why you’re still here, doing this.

So, I suppose a producer is someone who is both deluded and determined. Someone who can pivot from vision board to balance sheet seamlessly. Someone who holds the hands of a story scrawled on a fag packet right through to the premiere night. Someone who, against all logic and odds, still believes that stories matter, and that the right story, told the right way, can change everything.

And honestly - I wouldn’t change it for the world.

The faces and places of an indie producer!