Film Fest 101: Insider Tips from Tribeca Programmers

For filmmakers, submitting to festivals is expensive, stressful, and unpredictable. It can feel a lot like applying to college—or like launching your newborn into space. Acceptance can make your career; rejection can break it, at least temporarily. Either way, the result can feel arbitrary.

Is it all luck? Is it whom you know? Is there a strategy that can help your chances? Or, at worst, help soothe the pain of rejection?

Enter: Me. To demystify the ordeal, I asked four veteran Tribeca Festival programmers how to survive it. Their credentials? I tapped two senior film programmers, immersive/games programmer and a music programmer—each one chosen for their wide range of experience.

Casey Baltes ~ VP, Tribeca Games & Immersive @ Tribeca

Experience includes 17 years at Tribeca, serving as the Managing Director of Tribeca Film festival from 2011-2015, General Manager of Women in the World, 20+ years in live event production for art, culture, tech.

Vincent Cassous ~ Head of Music Programming @ Tribeca

Produces the Music Lounge, programs music docs and all live events for the Tribeca festival, as well as Tribeca’s year-round events. Experience includes 10 years working for agencies and record labels.

Faridah Gbadamosi ~ Senior Film Programmer @ Tribeca,

Experience includes Frameline, California Film Institute, Athena Film Festival, SIFF, Artistic Director at Outfest, Chair of the Board at Anarchist United Foundation.

Jarod Neece ~ Senior Film Programmer @ Tribeca

Experience includes serving as a 20-year Partner, Senior Programmer and Producer at SXSW, CCO at Curia.

Part I: HOW TO SUBMIT TO FESTIVALS?

This past year, Tribeca 2024 received over 13,000 submissions, with a daunting 3% acceptance rate. That’s like getting into Harvard. So how do you improve your chances—and stand out from the pack—not just with Tribeca, but any festival?

You have to apply yourself, literally and figuratively.

Let’s start with the literal ‘how-to’:

“Ask Questions”

Casey Baltes is adamant. “Don’t assume anything. If and when you decide to submit to Tribeca—or any festival—make sure that you ask all the questions: eligibility, what to deliver, how to deliver, when. It’s our job to make sure that the submissions box is open for inquiries, that we remain as helpful and friendly as we can be within the bounds of time and logistics.”

Yes, ask those questions. But first, remember: festival programmers deserve your respect. Dealing with thousands of submissions is hard enough without having to answer uninformed questions—so do your research. Read the fine print and follow the rules. In many cases, you can submit via Film Freeway, or via the festival’s own dedicated online portal. There’s typically a submission fee and a projected timeline for when you’ll hear back. But okay festival expert, I hear you: you already know this stuff. You’re here for the insider info.

So which deeper insights are these Tribeca gurus willing to share? Their collective responses follow in bold:

“Make Good Art”

Surprise! Truly though— this is the ‘less literal,’ more intuitive, follow-your-inner-artist stuff. In other words, filmmaking should drive distribution, not vice versa.

But what makes good art?

According to this team, the films they program at Tribeca are unified by “clarity of vision.” “We’re looking for someone who is really going for it,” Faridah Gbadamosi explains. “They may not hit every mark, but they’re playing around with the way stories are told. It excites us if we feel like we’ve never seen this perspective on a particular concept before. Something original.”

“Vulnerability Is a Strength”

Originality requires honesty. Self-awareness. The ability to fail without quitting.

Jarod Neece offers a reality check. “If you want to be rich or famous it usually doesn’t work out. If you don’t love making films, if you don’t wake up every day wanting to tell stories—there are better ways to make money.” He gives a wry grin. After 20 years of programming for SXSW, he has seen it all. “There are plenty of filmmakers who try to imitate films they like—but all too often, the result feels derivative. Soul-less. The hard part is telling a story you haven’t seen, or telling it in a way we haven’t seen: making it yours, with honesty, with vulnerability.”

Sure, there are always stumbles. But when you’ve created something that speaks your truth, something distinctive and deeply personal, something that resonates, both for you and for others, programmers can see past the flaws.

Their central message?

“Be True to Your Vision.”

*Break The Game* (A Tribeca 2023 premiere). Credit: Jane M. Wagner

Let that be your guide, from conception right up until your premiere.

“When you’re creating something,” Baltes reminds us, “it’s difficult to envision the future life of your project. But there are key questions you can ask yourself without compromising your art: what path are you on, what drives you to tell this particular story. Your answers will help turn your passion into good art. And that will help determine your eventual audience, which festivals you should target, what impact you hope to achieve.”

“Explore Your Options”

Keep your finger on the pulse: both personal and professional. While your film is preparing for primetime, keep track of indie film and the zeitgeist that you’re about to dive into. Which films are getting noticed, which films have been programmed by festivals, which ones have received awards? Which ones resonate with you personally? Do any of them have something in common with your film? If so, track their path, from festival through distribution: does their journey match your own expectations?

“Look at multiple festivals, see what has previously been programmed,” Vincent Cassous recommends. “From there, you can get a sense of whether your film is a match.” “Every festival has a different slate and different programmers.”

Gbadamosi agrees. “There are so many amazing film festivals. See which ones are a good fit for the story you’re creating. If there are specific films you love, look for the festivals they went to.”

“Be Realistic”

*How I Faked My Life With AI* (Tribeca 2024 premiere). Credit: Kyle Vorbach, Jeremy Boxer.

We all want to reach for the stars, but… Filmmakers who have a sense of their place in the universe usually find it. Like college, it’s smart to apply to a few “reach” festivals, several regional festivals, plus a few safeties. So how do you decide which ones to choose?

Research helps, but doesn’t guarantee you’ll get in. The world shifts, attitudes change. For example, the fictitious IFFF (Incredibly Forgiving Film Festival) may have accepted three short films about regenerative farming last year, but this year its programmers are focused on freedom of speech. The hope is that, if you’ve made good art, you can surprise a festival with the story they didn’t know they needed to program. Despite their interest in free speech, they may simply be unable resist your film about animal pelts—and champion you to speak freely about your favorite furs.

“Choose Festivals That Suit Your Film.”

And do NOT twist your art to fit the festival. Programmers look for originality, passion, not artifice. Films that feel manufactured, films that play to trends or to specific markets stand out—for all the wrong reasons. Instead, value your strengths and plan your distribution to match.

If you put in the time, your film will be seen.

“We really do watch all the films,” Gbadamosi insists, quick to dispel the popular rumor that programmers ignore films without a name actor or existing relationship. “We see trends coming from the selection pool, we don’t decide trends before watching.”

Finding the right festival home can also involve luck, and persistence. So don’t be afraid to put yourself out there: just make sure you time it correctly.

“Know When You’re Ready”

*The Neighbor’s Window* (Tribeca 2019 premiere, 2020 Academy Award Winner for Best Live Action Short. Credit: Marshall Curry.

Don’t rush your edit to meet a festival deadline: your art will suffer, and you’ll regret it. But DO time your submissions—and acceptances—according to your priorities. Once you have a list of festivals that feel right for your film, submit to the most exclusive fest first and don’t accept screenings at ‘fallback’ choices until you know they’re your best option. If your timing works out, you can premiere at your best choice, then ride the festival wave for months to come.

How to maximize your submission process? Our experts add two more caveats—plus one last insider insight.

“Submit Early”

Across the board, programmers recommend getting in ahead of the crowd—not just for your sake, but for theirs. “We program as we go, and we’re looking at films from the minute they’re first submitted,” Gbadamosi explains. “It’s not like we ever tire of watching movies … but do you want to risk the chance of programmer fatigue? Or, even worse, do you want your film to face the dilemma of too many good films vs. not enough room in the program?”

“Refresh Your Vimeo Links”

Neece offers his own warning. “If you’re a filmmaker, never send anyone an OLD Vimeo link. If you send a 10-month old link to your film, programmers will think, ‘Oh, nobody must want this, what’s wrong with this movie?’ You can always create a new link for the same movie. A week-old, even month-old Vimeo link feels fresh.”

And, finally, last but not least:

“Get a Programmer’s Attention.”

Meryl Streep hailing a cab outside of Joseph Papp's Public Theater, New York, 1979. Photo by Jack Mitchell.

While it’s not a requirement to know a programmer at the festival you’re applying to … reaching out hurts less than you may think.

“Be savvy and try to get your film in front of a programmer,” Cassous suggests. “We live in very connected world: whether at festivals or job submissions, you have so many people applying to one thing. So it does help to differentiate yourself and your film.”

Ok, but how do you do that? Beyond making an original, vulnerable, devastatingly beautiful piece of artwork that expresses your personal passion in a distinctive voice, how do you fight for your film’s festival acceptance? Is there a line between smart self-promotion and brazen overstepping of boundaries?”

Cassous hedges. “Yes and No.”

The Yes: “We want to hear from filmmakers, we champion filmmakers, we want to see them grow,” he explains. “Personally, I never feel bothered by someone emailing me about their project. After all, programmers want to know who’s behind a film—and sending a follow-up is OK too. We’re all passionate, we understand the hustle, we don’t get upset about that kind of stuff.”

The No: Ultimately, networking will only get you so far—and it may even hurt your chances if the film you’re submitting doesn’t live up to its hype.

Either way, however, programmers strive to keep an open mind. The joy and wonder of storytelling—the sheer unpredictability of what a film may offer—is why they do what they do.

For Gbadamosi, this is paramount. “If I went in with bias, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy watching movies.” She remembers programming Cooper Raiff’s debut feature, Shithouse, while working at Mill Valley Film Festival. “In general, I believe films are aided by having multiple voices in the conversation—so I was troubled to learn that Raiff’s film was written, directed by and even starred the same person. Still, his film won me over.” She laughs in recollection. “That’s part of the programming experience: opening your mind, even if you have preconceived notions. You may watch a movie with ideas in the back of your head … but if it hits you, it hits you.”

The happy ending? Raiff’s film played at Mill Valley, then went on to win the Grand Jury Prize for Best Narrative Feature at SXSW.

Cassous adds one last reassurance. “At the end of the day, if your work is good, it’s gonna be selected no matter who you are,” he contends. “If you make good art, people will come to you.”

Part II: HOW TO DEAL WITH THE RESULT?

What do you do if you get into a festival like Tribeca? What do you do if you don’t?

It may come as a surprise, but whether your film is accepted or rejected, our experts’ advice remains relatively the same.

If you’re ACCEPTED:

*Hunt For The Wilderpeople* (Tribeca 2016 premiere). Credit: Madman films, Piki Films, Sony.

“Build Your Tribe.”

Wow, you got into a film festival. Congratulations!

Neece grins. “If you got into Tribeca, you’ve already won the lottery. “If you get into any festival you’ve already done better than most filmmakers. Use that leverage to screen at more festivals and find partners for your eventual distribution.”

Having a long festival run is great, winning awards is better, and finding distribution is the holy grail. In fact, seeking distribution is the challenge. While it has always been hard, models are changing, and what you’ve been told could change in a month. More than ever, filmmakers are engaging with nontraditional distribution models: hybrid distribution, self-distribution, ticketed virtual premieres. The evolving market is worthy of its own article and research—but the bottom line is that you need a community … and you’ve just found one.

“Connect with Your New Community”

“That’s one of the great things about festivals: we put filmmakers in conversation with one another about these possibilities,” Gbadamosi explains. “A lot of filmmakers are trying to figure it out by themselves and I think that’s damn near impossible. So, we as an organization are trying to put people in rooms to explore all the options. For example, the Tribeca Creators Market is one such resource. Because of changes caused by the 2023 Writers Guild strike, we invited projects from 2023 to come back to our 2024 festival market, so that all these creators could learn from each other. The way to solve all these issues is to invest in community.”

As our experts remind us, festivals will help you do a lot more than navigate shifting sands. The goals are multiple: to get your film seen by the right people; to help your film find the right home; and, ultimately, to help your career find its next chapter. Yes, distribution is a holy grail—but career longevity matters too.

“Yes, you want your film to sell, to get as many eyes on it as possible, but—hopefully—you also want to continue your career as a filmmaker,” Gbadamosi points out. “You might be meeting your future collaborators by attending these festivals.”

“Networking Is Essential”

“A key value of film festival acceptance is networking,” she insists. “Meeting the other filmmakers who got in. This is your new tribe, the individuals who will help you find where you’re going next, who you’ll continue to see along your pathway, who will help you along your journey as a filmmaker.”

Wait, so I spent years making my film in hopes of getting a theatrical release, and now all I get is networking? It’s smart to prepare for the worst, but it doesn’t have to feel bleak. Because, as our programmers tell it, what some filmmakers mythologize as a “worst case scenario”—getting in, not finding distribution—is not only a common reality but can still be a “best case scenario.”

If you don’t hang all your hopes on traditional film sales, if you open your mind to other possibilities, you can take advantage of all that attending a film festival has to offer. In other words, one of the main reasons festivals exist in the first place is to help you meet fellow filmmakers, get your film seen by your peers, create a path to new work. And the beauty of this mindset is that it’s true even if your film isn’t accepted.

If you’re REJECTED:

*La Cocina* (Tribeca 2024 premiere). Credit: *Willa, Cinépolis.*

All of this is still possible without getting accepted by a festival, Tribeca or otherwise.

“Attend Festivals!”

Gbadamosi is emphatic. “Yes, please attend! There are lots of free events, and you don’t have to have a film there to find your tribe.”

Fitting in is a mindset, and taking yourself seriously is a choice. [Note to Reader: If you want more advice on how to navigate a festival as a first-timer, read my How-To-Sundance guide.] As Gbadamosi remembers, it takes effort to build a community.

“I started off volunteering at film festivals. I was an aspiring writer/producer technically on the path to being a doctor,” she laughs. “But because I went to film festivals and met amazing people, it made me realize there was an actual future for me in film. The film community is what moves things forward. It’s up to you to find the right people to create with.”

“Stay Connected”

Your community doesn’t have to be limited to filmmakers. Festival programmers are also your allies.

“Programming is not a selfish act, it’s a team sport,” Cassous nods, echoing Gbadamosi’s encouragement. “Every film gets screened by multiple people, every film gets discussed. We have to make sure everybody feels right about the film, that it’s in the right category. And these are hard choices: a film that you really love might not make the cut. But that doesn’t mean that you stop communicating with the filmmaker. You always hope the film finds a good home. We all have a list of filmmakers that we follow, whether they’re Tribeca alums or not.”

Back to Gbadamosi: “That’s true. While I love every film at Tribeca, not every film I love makes it into the festival,” she laments. “We do program as a collective—but if I personally loved watching something that doesn’t get in, I will track what festival it plays at. What that writer/director/producer works on next. Our job involves keeping tabs on careers and checking in with filmmakers. So don’t think one rejection is the end of the road. Keep at it. Stay in touch.”

They also want you to note that festivals don’t take place in a one-and-done vacuum.

“We have a very strong alumni network, we try to champion those people as much as we can. And sometimes that includes Tribeca rejectees,” Cassous continues. “We often have events in LA and New York for current festivalgoers and alums. For people we follow but don’t feel are ready for Tribeca, we keep track of them and their projects, keep communication open. Whether it’s with their agent or their production company, we try to keep tabs on new projects, to make sure they consider us when it’s ready. We’d be foolish not to: there’s a lot of competition between major festivals, everyone wants to land the good movie.”

Songs About Fucking (Tribeca 2023 premiere). Credit: James Gallagher.

“Don’t Give Up”

Just remember: Hope doesn’t die because of a Tribeca rejection—and Tribeca isn’t the only fish in the sea.

“Keep applying to festivals, keep networking, keep putting yourself out there,” Gbadamosi encourages. “Persist. I know it’s hard to be your own cheerleader, especially as an artist. But I can’t recommend enough: show your film to as many people as you can. Get as much feedback as you can, grow tough skin. And grow as a filmmaker as much as you can. The more you grow, the better you’ll become—and the less rejected you’ll be in the future. There’s no secret to getting accepted by film festivals. Just make good art and it will surely be recognized.”

“Challenge Yourself”

How do you evolve your art, your career, your life?

Gbadamosi’s advice for filmmakers matches her advice for fellow programmers: Watch, watch, watch. Even better: watch films outside of your comfort zone.

“Look at films that you aren’t responding to and challenge yourself to find out why,” she exhorts. “As a programmer, you have to know what audiences want, because not everyone shares your exact taste. And the same goes for filmmaking: you have to challenge your perspective. You have to keep up with what else is out there, what people are buying, what’s getting made, what’s next. The more you know what’s out there, the more you know how your work compares. How it’s similar and how it’s different. The bar is constantly being reset by what you choose to watch, and you can’t know the bar until you’ve seen hundreds of films.”

“Keep Growing”

Rejection doesn’t equal failure.

“We have over 13,000 submissions, about 113 features and 100 shorts,” Gbadamosi reminds us. “It is easier to get into an Ivy League than some festivals. So don’t take it personally. We have say no way too often, but we LOVE film. We want these films to be seen by as many people as humanly possible. And we want people to keep trying. To apply to different festivals. To apply to us again.”

Neece is matter-of-fact. “We say no to lots of stuff, but that doesn’t mean you failed. Maybe your film just wasn’t the right fit, maybe we already had something like it. Just don’t give up,” he urges. “If you believe in what you’re doing, don’t let one rejection stop you from doing that. Ok, if you get 1000 rejections over the years and NO ONE wants to program your work, then maybe this art form isn’t for you … but if that’s still what you love doing, why stop?”

Just make sure you refresh your Vimeo link after the 999th rejection.

“I’m just one person with one subjective opinion,” Neece continues, belying decades of experience with hard-earned humility. “Working as a programmer, you learn that quickly. The things you didn’t respond to that other people loved, that went on to do well … they make you realize what you don’t know. Each of us comes into programming with our own life history. If there were five different programmers for this festival, you’d have an entirely different program.”

Baltes agrees, balancing matter-of-factness with a final rallying cry. “Don’t assume our rejection is a reflection on your own artistic value or the quality of your project. Submit to other festivals, there are so many. And don’t let rejections get you down, please listen to feedback and be intrepid. Eventually you will find your audience, you will discover what the next opportunity might be for your film or for you. And just keep going. And growing.”

Gbadamosi nods, then sighs. As she knows too well, festival programming has its share of heartbreaks and regrets.

“There are always years where I look back and think, ‘Ugh, I could have fought harder for that film,’” she admits. “Then, the film goes on to do well at some other festival and you’re validated. Sort of.”

In the long run, it’s proof that the results of your efforts may not be the ones you expect—and that rejections don’t define the impact of art.

Instead, take Gbadamosi’s advice to heart: her approach works for these programmers, and it should work for you. “Be confident in your opinions. If you like something, fight for it.”

Rejections may sting—but that’s part of anyone’s growth as an artist, as a human. And besides, as all of four of these experts insist: chances are good that there’s a better home for your project still out there, waiting with its door wide-open.