Ten years ago a comedian told me the only film title worth anything was Horse Cock. In 2010, you'd have to add throbbing. Everyone knows the current state of affairs: independent films can't get distributed even if they are called Throbbing Horse Cock...unless Philip Seymour Hoffman and Lenny Kravitz's daughter are in it. But DIY hasn't advanced to the point where it's as viable an alternative as the independent scene back when your neighborhood video store would have a whole section devoted to DiCillo, Jarmusch, Rockwell, Hartley, Stillman, Baumbach, Holofcener and more. I'm not saying these were all classics but films like these were distributed until Pulp Fiction and Sex, Lies & Videotape changed what it meant to be successful.
What is success anyway?
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