Filmmakers Making A Social Impact: Why & How Keith Strausbaugh of Hot Tub Mimosas Is Helping To Change Our World
An Interview With Edward Sylvan
Film also has the power to transport us to any time, place, or POV. You can walk a mile in a stranger’s shoes for two hours without leaving your living room. That’s invaluable… and shouldn’t be wielded by only a select group. The more diverse the filmmaking community (in front of and behind the camera), the wider range of stories for audiences.
As a part of our series about “Filmmakers Making A Social Impact” I had the pleasure of interviewing Keith Strausbaugh.
Keith Strausbaugh and Anthony Guidubaldi write, direct, and edit under the banner of Hot Tub Mimosas, loveless marriage of comedy filmmaking. They both hold MFAs in Screenwriting from the University of Nevada-Las Vegas. Keith also holds an MA in English from Old Dominion University. In fact, he’s holding it right now to taunt the lesser-educated Anthony.
They’ve twice been finalists in Austin Film Festival’s screenwriting competition and twice had the top-ranked comedy screenplay on The Black List’s website. They’ve also twice loudly ranted about the worthlessness of these screenwriting contests.
In 2015, Pangaea Pictures hired Keith and Anthony to write a Chinese version of The Hangover, directed by Andrzej Sekula (DP for Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction) with a 1–2m budget and starring Billy Zane. This proved slightly troublesome as Keith and Anthony don’t speak Chinese. However, the producers paid in cash-stuffed envelopes which helped quell the writers’ concerns.
Hot Tub Mimosas was later commissioned to adapt American Coin: A True Story of Betrayal, Gambling, and Murder in Las Vegas by the widow of Frank Romano, one of the businessmen “allegedly” responsible for the largest slot machine cheating scandal in the 1980s (and a murder). Once again, the illicit cash allayed the filmmakers’ reservations.
In 2017, Keith and Anthony won Stage 32’s Comedy Contest and met with Art/Work Entertainment, Panay Films, Romark, Amasia Entertainment, LOL Network, and Big Beach Films. One of these companies was kind enough to offer Hot Tub Mimosas an opportunity to write them a script… for free. At least the crooks paid cash.
Tired of writing screenplays for organized crime syndicates, Keith and Anthony have since focused on directing their own projects, beginning with Marathon. It’s much safer.
Thank you so much for joining us in this interview series! Our readers would love to get to know you a bit better. Can you tell us a bit of the ‘backstory’ of how you grew up?
I was raised on the hardscrabble streets of Virginia Beach, VA. It’s routinely listed in “Best Cities to Live” articles, so of course, I left when I was 24. You can’t make life too easy on yourself. But no, it was a wonderful childhood with supportive parents. They’re both retired public school teachers and coached sports for forty-plus years, so it did turn our house into a bit of a meritocracy. I’m hoping the film bumps me up to #2 in the CRS (Child Ranking System) among my siblings. We’ll see. My sister is the Head Gymnastics Coach at the University of Pennsylvania and my brother graduated from the Naval Academy and worked at the Pentagon. I may be destined to bring up the rear.
Can you share a story with us about what brought you to this specific career path?
At the wise age of seventeen, I got into an argument with my father over the funniest SNL cast of all time. I volunteered the 90s-era performers… so he forced me to drive to Blockbuster and rent Fletch and watch it with him. And then admit I was wrong. Line for line, I had never seen a funnier film. That opened up an entirely new world of comedy… Stripes, Caddyshack, Uncle Buck, Richard Pryor stand-up, etc.
Can you share the funniest or most interesting story that occurred to you in the course of your filmmaking career?
Twice my filmmaking partner and I wrote screenplays for organized crime syndicates. In 2015, Pangaea Pictures (aka, a real estate investor turned producer) hired us to write the Chinese version of The Hangover with a 1–2m budget and starring Billy Zane. This proved slightly troublesome as Anthony and I don’t speak Chinese. Surprisingly, we still don’t. However, the producers paid in cash-stuffed envelopes which helped quell our concerns. A year later, we adapted American Coin: A True Story of Betrayal, Gambling, and Murder for the widow of Frank Romano, one of the businessmen “allegedly” responsible for the largest slot machine cheating scandal in Vegas in the ’80s (and a murder). Once again, the illicit cash allayed our reservations. This is what happens when you graduate with an MFA in Screenwriting from the University of Nevada-Las Vegas.
Who are some of the most interesting people you have interacted with? What was that like? Do you have any stories?
So name drop is what you’re saying? I worked at The Lot Studios in West Hollywood for five years in a non-creative role, which allowed me to meet and interact with a number of talented and eccentric personalities. James Katz, a producer and film preservationist, told incredible stories of working with Billy Wilder and Shirley MacLaine when The Lot was Samuel Goldwyn Studios. He also rode in the limo with The Beatles on their way to the historic Ed Sullivan Show performance. Sacha Baron Cohen also once explained to me that he chose to work at The Lot (formerly United Artists before it became Samuel Goldwyn) because he idolized Charlie Chaplin. But everyone knows The Most Interesting Person at The Lot Studios is Head of Security, Dave Del Prete. His studio tour is entertaining as it is factually inaccurate.
None of us are able to achieve success without some help along the way. Is there a particular person who you are grateful towards who helped get you to where you are? Can you share a story about that?
My dad’s a basketball coach who hoped to raise the next Larry Bird, but wound up with a son who admired Larry David… and that never stopped him from supporting me. He taught fifth grade in the same elementary school that I attended, so my teachers would rib him. “Guess what your point guard told me he wants to be when he grows up? An author and an illustrator…” This apparently provoked waves and waves of co-worker laughter. But to my dad’s credit, he then pushed me in that direction, encouraging me to enroll in more advanced English and literature courses. He continues to be our most devoted supporter even today. And yeah, yeah, I’m aware Bird wasn’t a point guard. I still played high school basketball.
Can you please give us your favorite “Life Lesson Quote”? Can you share how that was relevant to you in your life?
“I get up every morning determined to both change the world and have one hell of a good time. Sometimes this makes planning my day difficult.” — E.B. White
Every comedy filmmaker probably wrestles with the merit or worthwhileness of joke-writing, but Preston Sturges gave us the answer decades ago in Sullivan’s Travels. I won’t ruin the epiphany if you haven’t seen the film.
All right, never mind. I will. Write the damn jokes. I’m looking at you, Every-Comedy-Director-Who-Switched-To-“Serious”-Filmmaking-These-Past-Five-Years.
I am very interested in diversity in the entertainment industry. Can you share three reasons with our readers about why you think it’s important to have diversity represented in film and television? How can that potentially affect our culture?
From a comedy perspective, it’s an invitation to the table. For example, despite his act, there’s a reason nobody’s ever accused Don Rickles of being a racist. It’s equal-opportunity offending. You make fun of me, I make fun of you… It may be biting humor, but we’re talking and laughing… together. It’s an acerbic comedy, but it still comes from a place of love. The more we can joke and laugh together (despite our cultural differences), then the better we can communicate.
Film also has the power to transport us to any time, place, or POV. You can walk a mile in a stranger’s shoes for two hours without leaving your living room. That’s invaluable… and shouldn’t be wielded by only a select group. The more diverse the filmmaking community (in front of and behind the camera), the wider range of stories for audiences.
And practically speaking, the last thing I need is another me on set. I’ve got me down pat. I’d much rather work with a performer or a film crew professional who sees the world in an entirely different light. It keeps the project honest.
What are some of the most interesting or exciting projects you are working on now?
Well, if anyone’s willing to cut us a check for $250–300k, we’re dying to do the mockumentary version of Hands on a Hardbody… but set it at a down-and-out Las Vegas car dealership and use a Lamborghini instead of a truck. And I swear to god if someone reads and steals this idea I’m canceling my Authority Magazine subscription.
Or if you’ve got stupid studio money, then we’d love to shoot Shore Break. It’s basically Caddyshack with jet skis. Or Dodgeball with jet skis. Or Out Cold with jet skis. Growing up, I worked at my uncle’s ramshackle — that’s right, jet ski — rental business for seven adventure-filled, alcohol-drenched summers. The script, my first, won Best Comedy at Gotham Screen International Film Festival and received a staged reading at Tribeca Cinemas. It later won Stage 32’s Comedy Screenplay Contest and ranked #1 on the Black List website for comedy features. Let the bidding war begin.
We also have an animated film noir comedy pilot called, “CJ Roper, 2nd Grade Dick.” It’s an easy pitch that’s drawn industry attention in the past…
CJ’s a 7-year-old, fast-talking, chain-smoking private eye who solves cases with the help or hindrance of his effeminate sidekick, Freddy Grapes, and ex-study buddy, Veronica Pool. Every few minutes we flash to bright and sunny reality: CJ’s cigarette is a lollipop, his office a princess castle, etc.
Which aspect of your work makes you most proud? Can you explain or give a story?
Cue Sinatra’s, “My Way.” Since it was our first feature film, we refused to launch a Kickstarter or Indiegogo campaign. We didn’t want to lean on someone else’s dime. And if we failed, we also didn’t want to drag anyone else down with us. I didn’t disclose our production budget during the release, but we finished Marathon for roughly $55k all-in, including post-production, key art, sales rep, PR, etc. It was a skeleton crew, but everyone got paid. The shooting budget was actually only $28,000. Given our limited resources, I think we produced an impressive scrappy little comedy.
We also leaned on a trusted collection of family and friends for feedback during the editing process. Their notes were incredibly helpful and I’m proud that the film was born out of that small community of people we’ve known for years.
Ok super. Here is the main question of our interview. What are your “5 things I wish someone told me when I first started” and why. Please share a story or example for each.
- Fast, Cheap, Good. Pick two… because you’re not getting all three. For example, if you’re shooting a low-budget film and you don’t want it to end up as a schlock, then it’s going to take time. And by time, I mean YEARS. Script to screen is a lengthy process, and it can be all-consuming. After we shot, Anthony and I spent 22 months cutting the footage. He lived in Las Vegas (with the editing station) and I was in LA. We both had full-time day jobs, so I would drive to Vegas on a Friday and then we’d edit on the weekend. Rinse, repeat. I made that trip 35 times over the course of about two years.
- There are a million different ways to ruin a movie. Filmmaking is basically a series of hundreds or thousands of small decisions that ultimately lead to a final product. Some decisions are made on the fly, while others you have more time to deliberate, but there’s always the chance that one of those calls tanks the quality of the project. The trick is solving (or anticipating) as many issues as possible before they become problems. Pre-production’s cheap. Post-production isn’t.
- Most film distributors care more about your poster than your actual movie. That’s depressing on the surface, but the lesson for filmmakers is to reverse engineer the process. Think long and hard about the potential audience for your film. Who is this for? Will anyone watch? Does it need a recognizable cast to succeed? What happens if we don’t secure a distribution deal? These questions should be considered as early as possible, preferably in the script phase.
- Film school won’t prepare you for what happens after picture lock. Distribution is an ever-changing minefield and almost every filmmaker we talked to had a negative experience. During the shutdown, I created a massive list of sales reps, producer’s reps, and domestic distributors. The aim was to find a reputable person or company with a filmography that matched the tone of our comedy. We crafted a strong pitch email that included a screener and then started contacting the best fits. There also seems to be a disconnect between the types of movies filmmakers want to make (and film festivals desire to screen) versus the movies that distributors hope to purchase. For example, many filmmakers still cling to personal dramatic stories and Sundance dreams, whereas distributors crave action flicks with international appeal and Hallmark/Lifetime Christmas movies.
- I’ve heard directors use the expression, “The film wanted to get made” and I think it’s apt. Luck plays a major role in any film production. We were fortunate. Anthony and I were always prepped for disaster, but it never materialized. No lost locations, no lengthy weather delays, only one minor actor no-show, etc. The most incredible story is from location scouting for the track and field. Dissatisfied after leaving a public multi-use facility, I told Anthony to U-turn the car as we drove by a high school stadium. Like I mentioned, my parents in Virginia Beach were both coaches and teachers, so I was curious if Las Vegas high school tracks were open to the public on the weekends. We approached the entrance just as a stranger was padlocking the metal gate. He turned out to be the high school track coach, so we introduced ourselves and he agreed to let us film on a Saturday a few weeks away. A little luck, a little “Fortune favors the bold.”
When you create a film, which stakeholders have the greatest impact on the artistic and cinematic choices you make? Is it the viewers, the critics, the financiers, or your own personal artistic vision? Can you share a story with us or give an example about what you mean?
For Marathon, it was a mix of our gut as well as a small coalition of friends and family.
You make a film for yourself and your inner circle and then hope it catches on with a wider audience. It also helps to have friends from all walks of life. Anthony and I have lived in different cities, worked a variety of odd or bad jobs, played sports, and both graduated from an MFA program in Las Vegas. That’s a big dartboard.
Another advantage of low-budget filmmaking is control of the final edit. We weren’t beholden to studio or investor notes, so we were able to craft a movie that highlighted the actors’ talents as well as our strengths as filmmakers — story, jokes, and character.
All of that being said, Marathon isn’t a sustainable or repeatable formula. We’d prefer to pay our cast and crew top rates. But now that we’ve proven we can deliver a film from script to screen, we can hopefully partner with a financier and shoot with industry-standard resources. I’m dying to see what we can pull off with an actual budget.
You are a person of great influence. If you could start a movement that would bring the most amount of good to the most amount of people, what would that be? You never know what your idea can trigger. :-)
Throw Your iPhone Into The Ocean Day. Although, I haven’t figured out where it should land on the calendar yet.
We are very blessed that some of the biggest names in Business, VC funding, Sports, and Entertainment read this column. Is there a person in the world, or in the US whom you would love to have a private breakfast or lunch with, and why? He or she might see this. :-)
Don’t get my hopes up if you can’t deliver. I’d love to have a private brekkie with the only film director still making comedies, Taika Waititi. We’d meet under the guise of some sort of pseudo mentorship and then we’d just get plastered… and sloppily talk film history, wishing we could remember the director’s name for that one flick. And then go our separate ways like two boxcar-hopping hobos. But if Taika’s booked, then I’d love to meet INSERT NAME with $250–300k to spend on our next mockumentary. I’ve always been a big fan of INSERT NAME.
How can our readers further follow you online?
Social media is going to be the death of us. I’d prefer an email. Or a cheap postcard from a tourist trap.
Keith.strausbaugh@gmail.com
This was very meaningful, thank you so much! We wish you continued success!
