Filmmaking, Writing, Beer, Insularity, History, and Other Topics More-Or-Less Related to “Beer Wars,” Part 6

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5 --- Part 6 --- Part 7 Part 8 --- Part 9 --- Part 10 --- Part 11 --- Part 12 --- Part 13

NOTE: When I moved to a new site, this "Beer Wars" series was mangled/destroyed during the move. I've reconstructed it by copying/pasting another copy of the original posts. I also lost the comments in their original form. I've copied/pasted the comments, but had to do so under my own name. So although it looks as though I'm the only commenter, I'm not. In each case, I've identified the original commenter.

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I had no idea it would take me so long to get to where I wanted to go with all of this. This intended short recap has morphed into a long rambling series of posts. (Yes, I know: when don’t I ramble long-windedly?) But I’m getting there. Perhaps you’ll bear with me.

Anyway, neither the film nor the panel discussion are available online, so I can’t direct you to then. So what follows is a (brief) summary of the film’s point and of the panel discussion. And of course I’m giving you MY interpretation of what I saw/heard that night.

The film’s creator, Anat Baron, argued that “big brewers” like Anheuser-Busch InBev have too much control over which beers are sold in stores. This is partly because they’re big corporations with lots of money. But it’s also because of their relationship to the equally powerful beer distributors, who are the middlemen in the three-tier system (the three tiers being brewers, distributors, retailers).

The three-tier system, which was established by state and federal laws, forces forces brewers to rely on distributors who sell the beer to the retailers who then sell it to consumers. Between them, the “big” brewers and the distributors determine which beers end up in grocery stores. They control access and leave no room for beers from small craft brewers.

(Literally no room: Anat showed scenes from grocery stores so that we could see how big beers hog most of the available shelf space.)

She also argued that big brewers spend millions on advertising, and that this advertising is so efficient and intense that most consumers never get a chance to find out about other beer options.

Next: The beer people’s argument about their industry

 

Filmmaking, Writing, Beer, Insularity, History, and Other Topics More-Or-Less Related to “Beer Wars,” Part 5

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5 --- Part 6 --- Part 7 Part 8 --- Part 9 --- Part 10 --- Part 11 --- Part 12 --- Part 13

NOTE: When I moved to a new site, this "Beer Wars" series was mangled/destroyed during the move. I've reconstructed it by copying/pasting another copy of the original posts. I also lost the comments in their original form. I've copied/pasted the comments, but had to do so under my own name. So although it looks as though I'm the only commenter, I'm not. In each case, I've identified the original commenter.

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Anat scheduled the panel discussion to run for 35 minutes, so with seven people on the panel (including Anat) and one person asking questions, well, the math is obvious: No one would have time to say much of anything.

Our advance instructions were clear (and I’m happy to say we all followed orders):The panel would open with each panelist responding to a film clip. We did not see the clips in advance, so we didn’t know what we would be responding to. Each person would respond in order, and none of us were to interrupt that person while he/she was speaking. 

Once we’d all spoken, Ben launched another series of questions of his choosing, directed at a panelist of his choosing. No surprise, Sam and Rhonda, as the film’s “stars,” received most of the questions, with Greg getting a chunk of them. (Again, we were not told in advance what questions would be asked.)

The half hour zoomed past at Autobahn speed. Indeed, the one thing we all agreed on as we left the stage after the event ended was that we would have loved another hour, because there was plenty to say.

Okay. So that’s what happened. (And yeah, I should have included this last bit of whys/wherefores in the previous post. What can I say?)

My response?

First the film. The film was terrific. It moved at a lively pace, nearly dizzying at moments, and it had a clear narrative structure: Anat leaves alcohol business, ponders nature of alcohol business, decides to follow two beermakers, two entrepreneurs whose stories have quite different endings. It was often hilarious and almost as often sobering. (How could anyone watch Rhonda hauling her case from bar to bar, from meeting to meeting, night after night, day after day, and not be moved by her spirit and energy?)

Was the film perfect? No. Had it been my film (and I’m definitely not cut out for film-making), I would have introduced Rhonda, Sam, and the three-tier system earlier in the proceedings. I also would have painted the conflict with more shades of grey: I don’t think the conflict is so much Big Guy v. Little Guy v. Middleman Monsters, so much as it is a conflict about broader and deeper American values. (That, by the way, is where I’m headed with all of this, so hang on a minute for that.)

More to the point, it wasn’t my film. It was Anat’s film and her perspective and she went through all this effort because she wanted to make a point of her choosing, not mine. And judged on that basis, in terms of both its technical qualities and its narrative, I thought the film was excellent: Lively, well-paced, well-directed, and thoughtful. The cinematography and editing were first-rate and as a director, Anat possesses an exquisite sense of timing. Her wit and humanity shone in equal measures. 

Someone said to me at the reception after that he didn’t even want to get up to use the john because he was afraid he’d miss something. That means the film succeeded. I was deliriously happy on Anat’s behalf. 

So I urge the beer geeks to separate the film’s topic from the film itself. Pretend it was a film about, I dunno, brain surgery or tree trimming or mountain biking.

In other words, take your off beer blinders and judge the film as a film.

Next: Oh, that panel discussion . . . 
COMMENTS:
[Please note: when I moved to a new website, this series did not survive the transfer of blog entries. I had to repost the entire thing. The only way to include the comments is to tack them on at the end of an entry.}

 

 

Useful Info From Paul Gatza, Director of the Brewers Association

Paul Gatza, the director of the Brewers Association added a comment to an earlier post about how the BA arrives at its head-count. I'm bumping that comment up to a separate post because it contains a huge amount of useful info.

I will add that my experience is that the staff at the BA is extraordinarily helpful and generous with their time. They could run seminars on how to do "public reach out."

And Paul is, like everyone else at the BA, an amazingly pleasant, lovely human being. I've only met him a couple of times, but this is a guy with quality! It's also worth noting that, as was the case 25 years ago, when the organization was just getting off the ground, the BA still relies on reports from the frontlines. Put another way, they've maintained their original mission of including the "public" in the organization.

So if you know of a new brewery, or one that's not around anymore, do let them know. They absolutely welcome the input.

Anyway, from Paul:

"Here’s some background so everyone is on the same page with the Brewers Association “brewery count.” There are two numbers you may see published by the BA. For either count we are talking about brick-and-mortar facilities where beer is made and then sold. "One number is the annual count of operating breweries at specific point in time. This is a calendar year number for the BA’s annual craft brewing industry stats that includes each facility that brewed commercial beer in a calendar year. "This number includes brewers that brewed for some or all of the year. It does not include facilities where beer has not been brewed in a calendar year, even if that is a “store” of a restaurant group that also includes brewpubs. "The “annual” count for 2008 is 1501 craft brewers out of 1545 U.S. operating breweries. BA publishes the annual statistical report in the May/June issue of the new brewer. "One tricky piece is when do we inactivate a brewery. In general if we get word a place hasn’t brewed in a month and doesn’t seem likely to in the near future, we will inactivate them. "There are many very small breweries where a batch may normally last for, say, four months. and they may only brew three times a year. A brewery like this would be considered active by the BA as that fills the company’s demand and isn’t a true shutdown. "Another model we see in specific places is a brewery that is supplied by another facility in a group of brewers (usually a restaurant group) yet brews maybe as little as once per year in order to keep a permit active or for other reasons. "Yeah, it gets grey, and we need to use our judgment sometimes. Another place our counts are imperfect is that it often takes us time to get a status change through the natural course of information–for example, brewers telling the BA that they have closed isn’t usually high on their priority list–and we have to get that information on tips, media reports or online sites and then do the research and make the call. The same applies to brewery openings, but to a lesser degree. "We love tips to research if anyone notices a listing on our online Brewery Locator that they believe to be incorrect. BA’s Membership Coordinator & Brewery Detective Erin Glass (with her trenchcoat and magnifying glass) is our crack investigator. "We pull a report of this active brewery information from our database once per month based on the data in our database on the last day of the month. This “active breweries” count would be expected to be lower than the most recent “annual” count as it would not include brewers that closed in current year, past year, but would include current year openings. "The current count is used generally for media inquiries, our mid-year stat review and our member mailings and emailings in our Craft Brewers Fact Sheet. , we could publish the current count online each month. Now that the Craft Brewers Conference has wrapped, we are redesigning the professional division site and can do some more with the craft stats if there is interest and a benefit for BA members."

Filmmaking, Writing, Beer, Insularity, History, and Other Topics More-Or-Less Related to “Beer Wars,” Part 4

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5 --- Part 6 --- Part 7 Part 8 --- Part 9 --- Part 10 --- Part 11 --- Part 12 --- Part 13

NOTE: When I moved to a new site, this "Beer Wars" series was mangled/destroyed during the move. I've reconstructed it by copying/pasting another copy of the original posts. I also lost the comments in their original form. I've copied/pasted the comments, but had to do so under my own name. So although it looks as though I'm the only commenter, I'm not. In each case, I've identified the original commenter.

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Note: This section details the wheres/hows of the technical/backstage aspects of the Beer Wars event, so feel free to skip. The next segment gets back to the mental meat of the matter.

The point is that I knew that the critics would start in even before they’d seen the film. It’s all part of the deal. Fortunately, Anat also knew that would happen, and all she or anyone else could do was try to, well, educate people about how and why filmmakers and writers (and even brewers) make the choices they make. 

So on April 16, Anat and I and others gathered in Los Angeles for the event. I should explain that up to that point, no one had seen the film except Anat, her crew, and Ben Stein. (She hired Ben as moderator because she needed someone who was experienced at public speaking and who was not involved in any way in the beer industry. Ben fit the bill.)

Digression: Anat  hired Ben as moderator because he’s an experienced speaker and, more important, an outsider. He doesn’t make beer, sell beer, or promote beer. No surprise, the crowd of critics were annoyed. How, they demanded to know, could he serve as a moderator when he’s not a beer person? And what about his politics?, of which, apparently, many beer geeks disapprove.

They seemed not to understand his role in this event: He was there to MODERATE. Got that? MODERATE. He wasn’t there to share his brewing expertise (there were four other people on stage to do that). He wasn’t there because he was knowledgeable about the industry. He wasn’t there because he holds a specific political point of view (which, I might point out, was and is irrelevant to the proceedings.) He was there to ask questions and keep the half hour panel on track. End of story.

End of digression. The panelists — myself, Rhonda Kallman, Sam Caligione, Todd Alstrom, Greg Koch, and Charlie Papazian — spent that afternoon in the “green room” waiting our turn for makeup and talking. Those who had cell phones tweeted and blogged the green room activity. Etc.

It’s worth noting that I’d never met Rhonda or Sam or Todd. I’d had one brief conversation with Greg a few months earlier at the Great American Beer Festival, and have known Charlie for about four years (I interviewed him for the book). It was an interesting experience to be, in effect, stranded in the Green Room with what amounted to total strangers, all of whom have what can only be described as oversized personalities. Toss Anat and Ben into the mix and it made for an amazing and memorable afternoon.

(If I were Jane Smiley, I would have been taking notes for a novel titled Five Hours in the Green Room, a riff on her Ten Days in the Hills, which I loved.) (But I’m definitely not a novelist, so that’s one book that’s not gonna get written, at least not by me.)

Another (brief) digression: Makeup. I hate wearing makeup. I own almost no makeup (I keep a bit on hand for the TV gig I do, just in case the studio’s makeup person isn’t there.) But high-def cameras can make a 20-year-old with fabulous skin look like an aged crone. So: makeup. I asked the person doing my makeup (which, no surprise, took a looooooong time; I’m old) if men got as much makeup as women. “Oh, no,” she said. “Men usually only need a light touch. But people expect women to wear makeup, so we always put more on them.”

Oh?

About an hour before the film was to begin, we all trouped onstage for a run-through of the live event. The crew wired us, checked sound levels, checked camera angles, and so forth. Ben ran us through a series of questions (none of which he re-asked during the live event.) We all argued; a minor shouting match ensued (because many of us disagreed about a number of topics). (Not to worry; it was a friendly shouting match.)

(The crew, by the way, consisted of dozens of people. You want to know why tickets cost $15? Staging an event like this requires a HUGE amount of equipment and a lot of highly skilled theater tech people. The satellite trucks were marvels of mobile high-technity, and there were miles of cables, wires, and so forth all over, all of which required a human being to set up and operate.)

Then we went backstage again to wait for the screening to begin. When it was time, we — the panelists, Anat, and Ben — took our seats in the auditorium so we could watch the film. (Again, note that only Anat and Ben had seen the film. The rest of us were “Beer Wars” virgins.)

The lights dimmed. The screen lit up. The film rolled. We watched. Five minutes before the film ended, we crept from our theater seats, returned to the stage (which was concealed by the movie screen), took our assigned seats for the panel discussion, got re-wired, received still more makeup (ugh). The film ended, the screen rose, and the panel discussion began.

Next: You want depth? You're not gonna get it in a half hour.

Now About That "I Am A Craft Brewer" Film . . .

Okay, after being urged by Loyal Reader Dave, I watched the "I Am A Craft Brewer" film. You can see it here.

Nice piece of filmmaking. Lively, well-paced, well-filmed, and well-lit. Music aimed straight at the heart. Did what it's supposed to do: Rally the craft beer troops.

Content? Hmmm. . . . Well . . . . Hmmmmm. Astounding lack of historical perspective -- or, alternatively, "historical perspective" constructed so it matched what the filmmaker wanted to say rather than historical reality.

Once again, the drumbeat of "We are the American dream" (as if somehow the rest of us who don't make beer or earn livings by working for larger companies can't possibly represent that dream).

I was surprised that the film avoided mentioning the Big Talking Point that everyone who's anyone in craft brewing always make: The number of American craft brewers. Craft brewers love to roll out the numbers. "We are 1489 strong!" they say. (Or whatever the current number is. Just under 1500.)

Except, ya know, they're not. Because that number includes every outlet of every chain restaurant that claims to be a "brewpub."

So, for example, every Rock Bottom outlet is counted as a separate "brewery." Every Granite City outlet is counted as a separate brewery. Strip those down to what they are --- a single brewing "company" selling its beer in a number of retail outlets --- and the number of "craft breweries" plunges. I

ndeed, it's not clear to me why those are even counted as "breweries."

But hey, it's not my organization and it's not my turf to protect. And you gotta love the tiny core of "real" craft brewers who are doing just that: honoring and protecting their turf. Now --- what was it someone in the film said about "snakeoil salesmen"?

Filmmaking, Writing, Beer, Insularity, History, and Other Topics More-Or-Less Related to “Beer Wars,” Part 3

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5 --- Part 6 --- Part 7 Part 8 --- Part 9 --- Part 10 --- Part 11 --- Part 12 --- Part 13

NOTE: When I moved to a new site, this "Beer Wars" series was mangled/destroyed during the move. I've reconstructed it by copying/pasting another copy of the original posts. I also lost the comments in their original form. I've copied/pasted the comments, but had to do so under my own name. So although it looks as though I'm the only commenter, I'm not. In each case, I've identified the original commenter.

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I was not surprised by this pre-screening reaction. If I’ve learned anything in three years since my beer book came out, it’s that the world of craft brewing is highly insular and short-sighted. Its inhabitants believe that the world revolves around beer in general and craft beer in particular. 

They are so blinded by their insularity that they don’t know that roughly 96% of the beer sold in the U.S. is NOT craft beer. They don’t understand that the rest of the world doesn’t drink craft beer; doesn’t idolize Greg Koch and Sam Caligione. That the rest of the world doesn’t know or care about brewers’ conflicts, the three-tier system, or anything else connected to beer and brewing.

That’s not a criticism. Insularity and short-sightedness enable “groups” to create and maintain solidarity. (People who work in publishing are even worse, frankly, which is why I avoid hanging around with writers, agents, and editors.)

But there’s another reason I was not surprised by the pre-screening dogpile: Criticism is easy. Empathy is not. 

Most people aren’t writers and filmmakers (or entrepreneurs) and they don’t know how hard it is to write a book, or produce a film, or, for that matter, build a brewery. These are activities that require long hours, sacrifice, self-discipline. And in the end, if the writer or filmmaker -- or brewer -- has done her job right, the finished product looks easy. Like something any fool could do.

Case in point: Some months back, a couple of beer enthusiasts asked me for an interview. They run a website and forum and do podcasts about beer. One of them said he liked the book and then said something like: “Well, it was probably pretty easy, wasn’t it? I mean, the story was right there. All you had to do was write down the facts.” Or words to that effect.

Well, no. That’s not quite what happened. The “facts” were scattered hither and yon, buried in hundred year old books and in magazines and interviews and so forth. I spent five years tracking down those facts and then piecing them together into a coherent “story” that I hoped others would enjoy. But I knew that he didn’t know that. Indeed, the fact that he assumed it was “easy” meant I’d been at least a little bit successful: My hard work is invisible, which allows the main event --- the book’s narrative --- to take center stage.

So I understand how hard it is to create something from nothing --- and I know that people who don’t do what I do don’t understand how I do what I do. Again, not a criticism; just a fact. I have no idea how to run a brewery, perform brain surgery, or repair automobiles. (So I try to show respect for those who do.) 

But I also know that because people don’t know how I do what I do (or how Anat does what she does), the critics always want something other than what they got. 

For example: Many people criticize me for not including the colonial period in my book, or for not writing a book that was only about the craft brewing industry. That’s okay. They’re entitled to their opinion, just as I’m entitled to mine. And in my informed opinion, I had good reason to write the book the way I wrote it, not least of which was that, ya know, I wrote the book I wanted to write, not the book that someone else wanted me to write. 

(So to those critics I always say --- politely --- “Those sound like a great topic. I look forward to reading your take on it. Let me know when you’ve finished  your book.”)

(I’m still waiting for those books to appear. . . . )

Next: Showtime!