I owe my whole business to a dodgy contract.

When I was 23 I directed a telemovie for kids (the name of which I can’t share) which had the potential to become a feature film. It was my first big filmmaking gig, after years of studying film, freelancing on crews and making a few shorts and music videos. It was also the first time I was ever offered a written contract on a job. I was so excited about the prospect of directing this project and getting paid (albeit not much), and to get a contract as well seemed the height of professionalism. In hindsight, it was a very dubious document indeed, but I signed it without really reading it, and I never received a copy.

The film was made, I had my first experience of leading a large cast and crew, and although the finished work was not award-worthy it was a passable first attempt. Had it ever been screened I would have not been embarrassed to see my name in the credits – but there’s the rub. It was never released. The whole project fell over in post-production, money vanished, lawyers got involved, and my dodgy contract did not save me from the nightmare that ensued. To cut a long story short, I went from directing my first movie to the dole queue without any money, a finished film to show, or legal recourse. I had my first real taste of being ravaged by someone else’s power, and my own lack of business knowledge and acumen.

Once I recovered from the experience (after a lot of tears, some excessive drinking, and a little bit of shouting at the producer who had f*cked me over), I decided to never let that happen to me again. Sure, I had someone I could blame for the whole mess, but I also didn’t want to be a victim. I had been complicit in my own mess because I was grateful and ignorant and felt that businessy things like contracts were someone else’s problem. I learned the hard way, started my own production company, and vowed never to let my lack of legal and business knowledge punch me in the face again.

In the years since (over twenty of them!) I have been involved in lawsuits about six times. It’s partly because I’ve been in business for a long time, and these things happen when you provide goods and services and take people’s money. It’s also because as a journalist, business advisor and documentary filmmaker I deal almost exclusively with the creative interpretation of fact, and annoyances like defamation are a part of the job. I’ve had a stoush with a British publisher who paid me an advance for a book, decided not to publish, and then refused to give back my rights (and waged a very personal attack on me as well). I’ve interviewed a public servant who agreed to be on the record for an article, proceeded to be flagrantly prejudiced, and then claimed to be drunk at the time of the interview when his rant was published. And when an advisory client became belligerent after I suggested that perhaps his creative business wasn’t going to generate millions of dollars in the first couple of months, I added a clause about mental health to my terms and conditions.

I now spend most of my life advocating that creative people learn about the rules and regulations of business, not because I think rules are cool but because I believe that creative people are much more likely to be exploited when they are ignorant. Our gratitude for the work, our passion for our craft, and our desire to do an excellent job make us vulnerable to bastards. Learning about the law, the way contracts work, understanding intellectual property – all that means that instead of becoming cynical, or giving up on our beloved craft, we can play by rules that are designed to benefit everyone.

The Arts Law Centre of Australia, the Australian Copyright Council and the Funky Lawyers are all here to help. We don’t all bounce back in the face of dodgy contracts – for some of us, a lack of legal knowledge is also the end of our business. Don’t let the bastards win. For a small investment of time in learning about the law, you and your creative business will be all the safer for it.