The Bubble That Could Save Cinema

Why we big thinkers right now more than ever

The Bubble We Live In

Let’s be honest: Substack is a bubble. A wonderful bubble, yes, but still a bubble. Inside here, we’re surrounded by people who love movies, care about their survival, and want to imagine something better than the current system. That alone makes it feel like a rare oasis in an industry that often measures success in algorithms and sequels. But we cannot mistake this space for the larger world of movie culture.

What happens inside this bubble does not automatically translate outside of it. Ideas here are not market-tested. They are not subject to the grind of box office math or the realities of getting someone to leave their house and buy a ticket. They are thought experiments, sketches, and prototypes. And because of that, most of them will fail. That is not a criticism, it is the point. The purpose of this bubble is not certainty. It is incubation. It is the chance to say, “What if?” without immediately being told no by an executive, an investor, or a spreadsheet.

Film history shows us that bubbles can change everything. When Sundance began in the late 1970s, it was just a small festival in Utah, far removed from the power centers of Los Angeles and New York. It did not look like the epicenter of independent cinema. It looked like a bubble. But within that bubble, filmmakers had space to experiment, audiences were willing to engage, and a new culture of American independent film was born. What started as a scrappy outpost turned into a movement that defined the next four decades of indie filmmaking.

And even before Sundance, critics at Cahiers du Cinéma in Paris were writing about film theory, arguing about directors, and dreaming of new forms of cinema. That bubble of ideas, which we now call the French New Wave, eventually spilled out of the pages of magazines and onto the streets with cameras. Truffaut, Godard, Rivette. They were cinephiles first and filmmakers second. Their bubble created an explosion that redefined cinema itself.

Substack is starting to feel like that. It may look small now, but bubbles like this are where the seeds of the next era get planted. And while not every seed will grow, the important part is that enough people are planting.

Why Trying Matters

If bubbles are where movements begin, then experimentation is the oxygen that keeps them alive. Every attempt inside a bubble, whether it succeeds or fails, contributes to the larger ecosystem. A failed experiment is not wasted energy. It is information gained. It is one less blind spot for the next person who tries. In that sense, failure is not the opposite of progress. It is the price of admission for progress.

This is the mindset

Taylor Lewis

and I have built

The Label

on. We are not here to claim we know exactly what the future of cinema looks like. We are here to try things in real time, to run pilots, to test ideas, and to share what we learn along the way. Some of those tests will succeed, some will fall flat, and both outcomes will be valuable. What matters is the willingness to take the swing. If we only wait for the perfect answer, we will never move forward.

The truth is, people in this business are conditioned to chase certainty. Executives look for data, for comps, for proof that a project has worked before. Filmmakers second-guess their instincts, waiting for validation that never comes. Everyone wants guarantees, but guarantees only exist in hindsight. The French New Wave was not guaranteed until Truffaut picked up a camera. Sundance was not guaranteed until a handful of filmmakers screened their work in the mountains of Utah. Certainty is the reward of risk, not the prerequisite.

And this is why bubbles like Substack matter so much right now. They give us the room to try in public, to stumble without shame, and to share the results with others. Every time one of us tests an idea: whether it is a new way to distribute a film, build an audience, or fundraise, we create knowledge that did not exist the day before. That knowledge spreads. It inspires someone else to test their own idea. And slowly, those experiments stack on top of one another until a new way of doing things starts to take shape.

If we treat failure as something to avoid, this bubble will collapse under the weight of its own fear. But if we treat failure as part of the process, then every attempt, no matter the outcome, becomes another step toward restoring movie culture.

Collective Movement

The most powerful thing about this bubble is that none of us are doing it alone. What might look like isolated experiments, one person starting a newsletter, another testing a crowdfunding campaign, another running a pop-up screening in their neighborhood, are actually part of a much bigger pattern. Each small act contributes to the collective momentum of a larger movement.

This is how change has always happened in cinema. The French New Wave was not just Godard or Truffaut. It was a circle of critics-turned-filmmakers who challenged each other’s ideas and pushed one another further. They wrote, they argued, they collaborated, and in doing so, they created an entire wave that no single person could have carried alone. Sundance did not spring from a single breakout film either. It became a cultural force because a community of filmmakers kept showing up year after year, building on one another’s risks, sharing resources, and proving that there was an audience for work outside of Hollywood.

That same pattern is repeating here. The conversations on Substack and Filmstack are not just essays on the internet. They are sparks. Maybe it will not be me who creates the breakthrough. Maybe it will be you. Or maybe it will be someone who read Ted’s writing, or Taylor’s, or an essay from The Label, and thought, “Why not me?” That is the true value of this bubble. Each attempt plants a seed, and those seeds create more seeds.

One bold move inspires another, and soon you have a chain reaction of experiments happening side by side. That is how resilience is built. Because even if nine out of ten attempts fail, the tenth can reframe the entire conversation. And if enough people are testing, failing, and sharing, those odds begin to multiply in our favor.

So the question is not “who will figure it out?” The question is “who will try first, and who will follow?” The answer cannot rest on one person’s shoulders. It has to come from the community choosing, again and again, to keep the momentum alive.

The Talent Is Here, Outside the System

We already have the people we need. Creative leaders, strategist-executives, filmmakers, producers, and marketers who understand how the system works, yet are no longer bound by its limitations. They are staking out new territory, often quietly, and they are ready to fuel the next wave of cinematic change.

Take A24, for instance. It was founded in 2012 by three industry veterans who left Oscilloscope, Big Beach, and Guggenheim Partners. They did not join forces to build another studio in the old mold. They built something different, a company where bold and personal storytelling could flourish. That risk paid off. Moonlight won Best Picture and proved that indie sensibilities can compete at the highest level.

Or look at Shivani Rawat, who runs ShivHans Pictures with a mission to back films that do not fit Hollywood’s usual formulas. She brought on Julie Goldstein, a former head of Miramax and HBO Films, as her Head of Production. Together they are channeling deep studio expertise into a company built to support stories that the industry often overlooks.

Another example is Megan Ellison, who launched Annapurna Pictures in 2011 with a simple conviction: sophisticated, auteur-driven drama still deserves a chance. From The Master to Her, she placed bets on filmmakers rather than trends. Her model showed that artistry and ambition can coexist without needing to follow the rules of the traditional system.

These are not outliers. Across the country, solopreneurs, former executives, and independent artists are building companies, collectives, and festivals that thrive not despite the system, but because they have stepped outside of it. This pool of talent can lead projects, fund new ventures, coach emerging filmmakers, and most importantly, show us what taking action looks like in practice.

If bubbles are where movements begin, and experiments are their lifeblood, then this community of people is the spark. The future of cinema will not be created by waiting for permission. It will come from those willing to act with the knowledge and freedom they already have.

Be Bout That Action

This is where it all comes together. We can talk endlessly about what is broken in the industry or how movie culture has lost its spark, but talk will only take us so far. At some point, someone has to move. As Marshawn Lynch famously said, “Be bout that action, boss.” The future of cinema will not be built on ideas alone. It will be built on what we try, what we risk, and what we are willing to do even without a safety net.

There is more than enough talent to make this happen. Former executives, filmmakers, and producers have already proven what is possible when they step outside the system. They have started companies, festivals, and collectives that reimagine how movies get made and shared. Substack and Filmstack are giving us a testing ground where new approaches to distribution, audience-building, and community are already emerging. But the real turning point will come when more of us stop waiting for permission and start experimenting in public.

That ripple effect is the point. Movements are not built from a single breakthrough. They are built when enough people refuse to sit still and decide to create momentum together.

The truth is, there will always be reasons not to try. It is safer to talk about ideas than to risk them. It is easier to critique the system than to build an alternative. It is more comfortable to wait for validation than to test your own vision. But cinema does not need more spectators. It needs builders. It needs people willing to plant seeds that may not bear fruit right away but will make the soil fertile for those who come after.

So here is the call: test your idea. Pilot your project. Share what you learn. Inspire someone else to take their own swing. The only way to restore movie culture is to create it, day by day, experiment by experiment, risk by risk. If you want movie culture to thrive again, do not wait for Hollywood to save it. Buy in. Take action. Be the change. Because if we do not, then who will?