The Essentials:

• Platform: The New Yorker

• Executive Producer: Paul Moakley

• Content Type: short documentary and scripted narrative films

• Editorial themes: wide-ranging, from politics and current affairs, culture and arts, to science, humor and essays

• Ideal Video Format: Short-form films under 40 minutes

• Pitches/Submissions Considered? Near-completion and completed film submissions only

• Where to submit: here

What cinematic language best expresses a publication as versatile, and as renowned, as The New Yorker? That question drives Executive Producer Paul Moakley and his team at The New Yorker, who oversee the innovative short documentary strand The New Yorker Documentary, as well as scripted narrative and commentary content. Along with sharing insight into the magazine’s strategic vision and the sourcing of their documentaries, Paul offered us his reflections on the essential element of surprise and blending journalistic rigor with creativity, as we discuss what makes a short documentary compelling and worthy of sharing with their devoted viewers.

KV: Thank you for sitting down with me, Paul. Could you tell us a little about the inner workings of your video team at The New Yorker?

PM: The New Yorker, in terms of video, established a strong reputation over the years for sophisticated and award winning programming that I’m lucky to build upon. Our mission is to be a distinct showcase for the best short form cinematic journalism and storytelling. All films are streaming on our site and The New Yorker's social platforms. In everything we program we strive to reflect the same storytelling ethos of The New Yorker by offering unique perspectives on some of the most vital issues shaping our world. The great thing about being at The New Yorker and Condé Nast is we connect filmmakers' work to a much larger infrastructure. We have a vast network of talent and a newsroom where we can collaborate and support projects. Our docs are fact checked and treated with the same processes as written stories. At The New Yorker we can provide an incredible platform and a sophisticated audience for short films and they treat them as a natural extension of our editorial. We have a robust social media team that we work with to amplify our short film series, create original content, and to promote the most exciting stories in the magazine.

We collaborate with Sarah Lash VP of Acquisitions for all of Condé Nast from the Film and TV division. She brings a wealth of experience and makes our team have incredible reach in the short film space. We spend a lot of time working together on screening thousands of films, where we're trying to look at the best of what's coming from festivals, submissions, and individually through different networks. And so we're seeing films in a variety of ways and within Condé Nast we hope to be an incubator for talent and ideas.

Journalism is constantly trying to change and adapt, and I think video everywhere has faced a few challenges in the past few years. A lot of our time is focused on trying to figure out, ‘How do we make this work? How do we find an opportunity within the very tough business landscape that we're in right now? How do we refine this great program so that it stands out in a space where there is a lot of competition?’ There's so much happening in the streaming world. How do you get people really excited about short films? I think that's the most interesting challenge and something I love to champion.

I've worked most of my career in news media and I've seen it go through many transitions, with the way social media has changed how we work. I try not to see in a negative way. It is something that helps us connect to so many people and so many creatives in a way that we've never experienced before. For me, Instagram changed the way that I thought about social media. Coming from a photography background, it was a platform I connected with quite easily, and it became essential to how I work and think about finding talent and creating content. Currently I’m fascinated by how deeply engaged people are with TikTok and we have been experimenting there more with trailers, behind the scenes, and original content. (Examples here, here and here)

KV: It shows. The New Yorker’s YouTube channel is a rich collection of outstanding, diverse short documentaries. Where do you go in search of these films? Are The New Yorker Documentary films predominantly licensed, and do you produce in-house as well?

PM: It's a mixture, the majority of our films are acquired and licensed exclusively for a limited period. We are looking at the landscape of film festivals, connecting personally with a network of filmmakers and host open submissions. We're also connecting with talent at universities. We want to be connected to emerging talent, as well as working with established talent that share our passion for the shorts space.

There are a number of films that come to us at the end of production, and we're open to working with them too – we take a small percentage of those films and try to help bring them to completion by providing funds for finishing sound mixing, for color, for graphics. We also have a lot of in-house resources that we can help with when it comes to post and things like graphic design and editing, and support with journalism, too. And then there's another small handful of films that are originals that are either conceived by us or pitched to us. Being a small team, we can only work on a few of those productions a year, so we try to choose very carefully.

We work with a very long view in mind: most of our programming is planned six to twelve months out. We're really thinking of what's going to be relevant and still resonate, a year to two years from now, but can also react to newsier stories.

In all of this we think of The New Yorker video program as a whole. Films are supported in the same way other content is and they need to reflect the overall taste and sensibilities of the publication. About 80 percent of our films are documentary and then the rest are scripted. An ideal cadence for us is every other week. That way we can give the films the attention they deserve and promote it very heavily.

KV: How do you seek to express The New Yorker in film format? What makes a short documentary a fitting expression of the New Yorker?

PM: The New Yorker covers so many things: in depth journalism, profiles, we're covering culture, politics, and humor. There's so many ways to think about The New Yorker, but I think there's this distinction – we want the films to have a certain sense of rigor and a very high level of depth and an artistic quality. We think about it as a distinct destination for excellent cinematic journalism.

It definitely has to be a reflection of the magazine's perspective, thinking about how we talk about the most vital issues happening in the world that are shaping us and who is telling these stories — and part of that is also building a conversation around films too. So along with publishing our shorts, we're experimenting with social media that takes our audience behind the scenes and new video series that also help generate a conversation around filmmaking. We started a series called Director's Commentary, and that's another way to create almost an ecosystem around filmmaking and have a lively conversation around the films.

Something I get asked about a lot is how do these films connect to the magazine? I think there is just a certain relevance we're looking for in terms of the films, but they also have to come from a surprising or deeper perspective in the way our written stories would.

If a film is pitched to us, I would say one thing that filmmakers should be thinking about is, ‘How has this topic been covered before? Has The New Yorker covered this? What's new about this story now and why do we need to see it and talk about it now?’ That's the starting point for every story. We want to publish films that are going to resonate with you for a while. Whenever you're pitching a story, a lot of people want to pitch stories about the news, but we need to ask: What's a different angle that's unexpected and surprising that you could bring to The New Yorker?

KV: It's interesting, because obviously there really is a relevance and connection back to current affairs, but I do feel like The New Yorker Documentary embraces bold choices. Especially among today’s algorithm-friendly, instantly digestible formats it may sometimes take a viewer a moment to grasp why we're watching this film, why should we care about this person who lives in this faraway place — so I think there's a boldness, a trust and a sense of creativity that for me really sets it apart. I can imagine that balancing this is also a challenge?

PM: Thank you for noticing. We're asking ourselves those questions each time we screen something, about what we're bringing to the conversation right now, like, 'Why this film right now? What is it saying about the world?' — we're also thinking about how the story is told and by whom, and it needs to be told in a creative way that resonates emotionally. We're looking for something that is surprising, challenging, and in turn feels transformative. When films have a combination of those two things, it's often a good fit for us. If you read some of the great New Yorker pieces from over our nearly hundred year history, a lot of the stories have a surprise in them or a reveal that feels astonishing.

When we're screening films, we're looking for really interesting formats and story structures that surprise and delight. That's something that makes a film stand out for us, and makes you think about an issue that maybe is really well worn. We all think we know about a certain issue. But if it's told from a new perspective, somebody we've never seen talking about the story, or told in a fresh way—those are the kinds of qualities that we're looking for, and asking each other about as we're screening films or pitches. We're like, ‘Does this surprise? Does the visual approach feel fresh and exciting?’ If a film falls into a convention or a format we've seen before, it tends to get lost in the submissions. And maybe we're going against a popular notion of formatted, 'delivering the same thing,' but I think we really aim to challenge our audience over and over again and we’re fortunate to have an engaged curious audience, but the bar is always shifting a little bit for what feels new and interesting, and we're trying to push ourselves as much as possible. And we want to work with filmmakers that are really trying to push the medium into new fresh directions, but also have a journalistic rigor about their work.

KV: Documentary itself is obviously a format that's constantly being pushed creatively – it's great to hear a platform embracing that variety, that a documentary can mean so many things these days. Having said that, are there particular forms of storytelling that you’re interested in?

PM: We do keep an openness, but I do think we see a lot of stories that are coming from a deeply personal perspective. We're really trying to respond to what filmmakers are thinking about right now and we are seeing a lot of character-driven stories, that are connected to the most vital issues in the world, and I think that's such a wonderful way to enter a story. Those are stories that really help you connect personally, expand your world, and build a sense of empathy that makes you feel less alone. We've just gone through a global pandemic and we're all shaking that off and getting back to our lives and starting to really be around people again and work together. It's been a long process. I think people may underestimate how long that is taking us to heal. But you know, filmmaking is also a slower process. So we're just seeing these things play out. That societal shift is really interesting to me right now.

KV: Yeah. And perhaps even continuing in some shape or form, if you're looking at statistics on loneliness amongst younger generations, that sense of isolation seems to persist — I think documentaries can really bring us out of our bubbles, whether virtual or in real life.

PM: Yes, we have an opportunity to broaden people's lives and I think that's why it's important for us to see films coming from all around the world, from different languages, different perspectives. They might require some patience to get into and to wrap your head around, but we find once people do that, they enjoy losing themselves in the cinematic and feeling transported. We find our films build an audience over a long period of time. They're not just a flash in the pan that we publish and move on. The audience really connects and builds over a long period of time. People discover the archive in different ways and go back into it. So we're always trying to think of ways to curate the films, to create playlists that bring them up to the surface again when they do feel relevant or find different ways for people to enter them. That's one of the big challenges for all of us right now working at digital publications is, how does the content not get lost?

KV: What are your personal metrics for success when it comes to short documentary — and are there films that come to mind that exemplify that at The New Yorker?

PM: I think success happens in so many different ways, to be honest. It leans into what we were just talking about — it's about an audience really connecting with the film, watching it until the end. Not just watching it but really deeply feeling it, wanting to comment on social media about it and share it with their friends– that's success and it doesn't always happen in viral traffic that's instantaneous.

We work with filmmakers that have all different types of goals when it comes to impact because of the variety of what we're publishing. A lot of filmmakers are trying to inform the public or raise consciousness about a certain issue or make you feel less disconnected. And then some have more direct impact goals that are around issues of social justice and politics. We try to work to the best of our ability to help filmmakers reach a lot of those goals in the packaging and the promotion of the film. We strive to have it be aligned with the filmmaker’s goals when it comes to getting it out into the world.

I would say a great example is one of the first films that I worked on at the New Yorker, was Haulout (by Evgenia Arbugaeva and Maxim Arbugaev). In a time when we talk about the environment and we know it's one of the most important issues we need to be focused on, that film has such a subtle way of bringing you into this very individual story of this lone scientist and taking you through a very particular, devastating experience. It’s visually astounding, and it's something that you can't shake from your mind when you see it. It's a film that could really drive a conversation for a long time. It was incredible that that film received awards recognition and an Oscar nomination and we were able to have the directors and scientist travel to the United States for screenings.

There are so many factors that make that film so wonderful. First and foremost you have two filmmakers that are incredible cinematographers and photographers. But they're also bringing you a personal story that's very close to their heart. They're from that part of the Arctic and they have a different sense of that landscape. And they're bringing all that intimacy and this very special, unique thing that no one's ever seen. This epitomizes the power of great cinema to be a transformative experience.

We just published an incredible film To Be Invisible by a young filmmaker Myah Overstreet, who was a recent Berkeley graduate. We saw it as part of her thesis program, and she was very open to collaboration. We did help support finishing it in post. The film was selected for Sundance and it was playing in festivals before it was published on The New Yorker. There've been a lot of stories recently about social justice, of course, but this story, it was just something that stood out. In that moment there were actually a lot of films that were coming out about Child Protective Services, and we've thought a lot about incarceration, but we're not thinking about the root of injustice and a system that has the power to fracture families, and what that process is like for mothers. And we saw films like Savannah Leaf's film, Earth Mama, which was a fictional version of this issue. But when I saw To Be Invisible, it just felt very different. And the thing that makes the film stand out is these mothers are actively protesting and fighting and they have just so much spirit. It's not a film that's just like looking at the tragedy and letting you sit with it — you're seeing these women taking action in the world. And I think the director honored the work that they're doing, despite the great odds that they're facing.

One of the qualities that we always think about when we're selecting films, and our Editor David Remnick always talks about is The New Yorker being at the intersection of art and journalism — filmmakers asking the most vital questions, but also taking those questions and bringing them to life in an imaginative way. And those things have to intersect to make the films feel right for us.

Being in a journalistic organization, I think that's something that differentiates us from other platforms and other streaming platforms — the goals are truly towards authentic journalism and storytelling and revealing the world in a different way. That's something we're focused on almost entirely every time we're screening something, even if it's humor. What it is saying about the world right now is important, whether it's going to be something that makes you laugh out loud or something that's going to make you cry.

KV: And Demolition, for example, felt very refreshing and presented an entirely different palette compared to what I'd seen recently on The New Yorker. It felt like a creative expression of a place.

PM: Definitely. I love Alec Sutherland's film. Politically the U.S. feels very fraught – we've come out of this period of time where so many rural communities feel alienated and have been deeply affected by a devastating opioid epidemic – but here comes this film that starts with a mother talking about her sadness and depression and trying to overcome the loss of a child. And she finds an outlet in this insane car culture. I think Alec does a beautiful job at balancing intimate photography with insane verité of what it's like to be inside a crash derby. But the thing that I love about the film is it's so visual, but it has this incredibly aggressive sound design and music and that magical combination or contract makes it feel so modern and engaging. It’s such a delight.

But within all that, I love that you're hearing the story of a crash derby, through a mom, it's totally surprising, and I think that angle made Alec's film stand out. It's that little kernel of surprise, those are the things that hook us, and we hope it hooks the audience.

Have an idea for The Pitch? Send Kate a note directly! Rough Cut Mag is edited by Monica Gokey.

Rough Cut Magazine is VC's digital mag for and by industry thought leaders, doc filmmakers, and video journalists across the world.