How to Build an Audience That Stays

Hey, it’s Jerrica.

You have an idea.
You make the movie.
And then comes the question. Who is actually going to see it?

It becomes a cycle.
Make.
Share, maybe.
Make again.
Repeat.
But the audience never fully shows up.

In 2025, making good work is not enough.
You cannot just create and hope people find it.
You have to build a world around it.

Creatives who understand how to build community will create movements.
Not just views, but real support.
People who feel seen, heard, and entertained.
People who will pay to be part of what you are building.

Here’s whats inside this issue:

• Why good work alone is not enough to build an audience in 2025

• The 5-part Greenlight Audience Framework for creatives who want real support, not just views

• Simple, actionable steps you can take this week to turn passive followers into an invested community

THE MAIN ATTRACTION

For most independent filmmakers, building a real audience is the difference between staying in a day job or living your creative dream full time. If that sounds like you, it's time to make a shift.

This isn't about selling out or becoming an "influencer." This is about the economic reality that most filmmaking careers now require direct audience relationships. When studios won't finance your work, when streamers won't buy it, when distributors want all the rights and none of the risk, your audience becomes your infrastructure. They are your financing, your distribution, your marketing, and your sustainable career path.

Audience growth is not about going viral. It is about building real relationships around your content. Your content is your brand. Your artistic voice is what makes you irreplaceable in an industry that treats most creators as interchangeable.

Posting consistently is just the start. Most people skip the foundation they build on sand instead of stone. That ends here.

The Unsexy Truth About Audience Building

If you want an audience, and I know you do, you have to put in the time and energy to build it. Here is what that actually looks like in practice:

Keep posting before, during, and after your project drops. The content around the content matters.

Your film is not your only content. Your creative process, your influences, your perspective on the industry, your behind-the-scenes reality all of this is content that builds relationships. When Greta Gerwig was promoting Lady Bird, she didn't just show up for the press junket. She'd been sharing her creative journey for years, building credibility through her acting work, her interviews, her visible artistic development. By the time Lady Bird premiered, she had an audience invested in her voice, not just her film.

The biggest mistake independent filmmakers make is going silent between projects. You disappear for two years to make the film, then reappear asking people to care. But the audience doesn't know you. They have no relationship with your work. You're starting from scratch every time.

Build in public. Share your influences. Post about the films you're watching, the craft you're learning, the creative problems you're solving. Let people into your world before you ask them to buy a ticket to your movie.

Show up in your comments. Respond, engage, connect.

When someone takes the time to comment on your work, they're giving you their attention the most valuable currency in media. Respect that. Respond thoughtfully. Ask follow-up questions. Build relationships one human interaction at a time.

Ava DuVernay is masterful at this. She engages directly with audiences on social media, responds to fan art, amplifies emerging filmmakers, and makes people feel seen. That's not a side activity. That's audience building. When she drops a project, millions of people show up because she's shown up for them.

Ask questions. Care about your audience's work the way you want them to care about yours.

The filmmaker who only talks about their own projects is boring. The filmmaker who asks "What are you working on?" and genuinely listens? That person builds community.

Make your platform about more than self-promotion. Spotlight other filmmakers. Ask your audience what they're struggling with. Create space for conversation, not just broadcast. The filmmakers with the most devoted audiences are the ones who make their community feel like collaborators, not consumers.

If the hate comes and it will respond to your supporters ten times more than your critics. Never give more power to your haters than your community.

Every filmmaker who puts work into the world will face criticism, trolls, bad reviews, and people who fundamentally misunderstand what you're trying to do. That's inevitable. What's not inevitable is letting those voices dominate your energy.

For every negative comment, there are quiet supporters who love your work but don't always speak up. Make it your practice to amplify them. Quote their insights. Thank them publicly. Show them their support matters. The more you feed your community, the stronger it grows. The more you feed the haters, the more they multiply.

This is what audience building looks like in practice. Not just strategy. Commitment. It's the daily work of showing up, engaging authentically, and treating your audience like the creative partners they are.

This is what audience building looks like in practice.
Not just strategy. Commitment.

THE GREENIGHT AUDIENCE FRAMEWORK

I developed this framework working with creators across entertainment, from emerging filmmakers to established showrunners. It's been tested with comedy specials, short films, web series, and feature debuts. The pattern is consistent: the filmmakers who build sustainable audiences follow these five principles.

This isn't theory. This is practice.

1. POSITIONING

What are you known for?

In an attention economy, clarity is currency. If someone discovers your work today, will they immediately understand what you make and why it matters? Can they describe your artistic voice in a sentence?

Positioning isn't about limiting yourself. It's about giving audiences a way to remember you, recommend you, and return to you. When someone says "You have to watch this filmmaker," what do they say next? That's your positioning.

Wes Anderson makes symmetrical, emotionally precise dollhouse worlds. Ari Aster makes elevated horror that interrogates grief and family trauma. Kelly Reichardt makes quiet, observational stories about people on the margins of American life. These aren't constraints. They're invitations into a specific creative universe.

Most independent filmmakers skip this step. They make whatever they can get funded, chase trends, or try to be everything to everyone. The result? An incoherent body of work that doesn't build audience over time because each project feels unrelated to the last.

Action: Write a one-line statement that defines your creative lane.

If someone found you today, what would they remember you for? Not what you want to make eventually. What are you actually making now? What patterns emerge across your work?

Examples:

• "I make intimate character studies about working-class women navigating invisible systems."

• "I make Afro-surrealist stories that blend magical realism with political satire."

• "I make elevated genre films about family trauma, always with a supernatural twist."

Your positioning should feel specific enough to be memorable, broad enough to allow creative growth. It should signal to audiences: "If you liked this, you'll like what I make next."

Test it: Can someone who saw your last film predict what your next one might explore? If not, your positioning needs clarity.

2. POINT OF VIEW

What do you believe that others are afraid to say?

Craft is replicable. Perspective is not. What separates filmmakers who build devoted audiences from technically competent filmmakers who never break through? Point of view.

Your POV is the lens through which you see the world. It's the recurring questions your work asks, the injustices it highlights, the beauty it insists on seeing. It's what makes your work feel essential, not optional.

Jordan Peele's POV: Horror is the perfect genre to explore the terror of being Black in America. Boots Riley's POV: Capitalism is surreal, absurd, and more horrifying than any monster. Greta Gerwig's POV: Women's interior lives deserve the cinematic treatment we've always given to men's coming-of-age stories.

These aren't marketing slogans. These are deeply held beliefs that shape every creative decision. They're why audiences trust these filmmakers to tell stories that matter.

Most filmmakers are afraid to have a strong POV. They want to appeal to everyone, offend no one, and stay safely in the middle. But the middle is where work disappears. The edges are where movements begin.

Action: Share a short post or video this week with your honest take on something in your niche.

Let people feel your perspective. Not your polished press-junket answer. Your real opinion. What frustrates you about the industry? What do you see that others miss? What truth do you keep returning to in your work?

This doesn't mean being controversial for clicks. It means being honest about what you care about. The filmmakers with the most devoted audiences are the ones willing to say something specific, even if it alienates some people. You're not trying to be for everyone. You're trying to be essential for someone.

Examples:

• "Everyone talks about 'finding your voice,' but nobody talks about how long it takes to earn the right to use it. My first three films were me imitating people I admired. My fourth film was me."

• "The festival circuit rewards a very specific kind of 'indie film' quiet, contemplative, often about sad white men. I'm tired of it. I want to make films that are loud, messy, and unapologetically Black."

• "I don't believe in 'guilty pleasures.' The genres we dismiss horror, romance, comedy are doing more interesting formal work than most prestige dramas. I'm making genre films because that's where the innovation is."

Your POV is what makes people lean in. It's what transforms passive viewers into active community members who feel seen by your work.

3. PROOF OF WORK

People trust what they can see.

In an industry full of people who talk about making films but never finish them, proof of work is what separates dreamers from doers. Your audience needs to see that you're serious, that you're building, that you follow through.

This doesn't mean everything you share has to be polished. In fact, the opposite is true. Audiences trust process more than perfection. They want to see the rough cuts, the failed takes, the creative problems you're solving in real time.

Behind-the-scenes content isn't just marketing. It's proof that you're doing the work. It's evidence that you respect the craft. It's the difference between someone who says "I'm a filmmaker" and someone who is actively making films.

The most successful crowdfunding campaigns share one trait: extensive proof of work. Backers don't fund ideas. They fund creators who have already demonstrated they can execute. When Veronica Mars raised $5.7 million on Kickstarter, it wasn't because people loved the concept. It was because they'd seen three seasons of proof that Rob Thomas could deliver.

Action: Share a behind-the-scenes moment, a rough cut, a draft, or a key lesson from your process.

What are you working on right now? Show it. Not the finished product the messy middle. The problem you're trying to solve. The scene you've rewritten ten times. The location scout that led to a creative breakthrough.

People don't just want to see your final film. They want to see you becoming the filmmaker who can make it.

Examples of proof of work:

• Post a side-by-side of your storyboards and the final shot

• Share a production still with a caption about what went wrong that day and how you adapted

• Post a deleted scene and explain why you cut it

• Share a screenshot of your script with handwritten notes

• Document your festival submission process, including rejections

• Show your shot list and explain your creative choices

This builds trust. It shows you're not just talking. You're doing. And when you ask people to support your work whether that's buying a ticket, backing your crowdfund, or championing your film they know you'll deliver.

4. PARTICIPATION

Are you building with your audience or performing at them?

The old model: Make the film in secret. Drop it on the world. Hope people care. The new model: Invite your audience into the creative process. Let them feel ownership before the premiere.

Participation transforms passive consumers into active stakeholders. When people feel invested in your creative journey, they become evangelists for your work. They don't just watch your film. They recruit others to watch it. They defend it. They crowdfund the sequel.

This is why Kickstarter works so well for filmmakers. It's not just funding—it's participatory creation. Backers feel ownership. They're not buying a ticket. They're investing in the outcome.

But participation doesn't require crowdfunding. It's a mindset shift. Can you let your audience shape a creative decision? Can you ask for input before you've finalized everything? Can you make them feel like collaborators, not just consumers?

When Issa Rae was making The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl, she asked her YouTube audience to vote on story decisions. When Sam Levinson was developing Euphoria, he shared script pages and visual references on social media, building anticipation and letting audiences feel connected to the vision. When Bo Burnham released Inside, he'd already spent years building participatory community through his music, his specials, and his authentic social media presence.

Action: Ask your audience a question. Let them shape a creative decision. Include them before the final product.

This doesn't mean you're making films by committee. You're still the author. But you're acknowledging that art exists in relationship with audience, and that relationship can begin before premiere night.

Examples:

• "I'm choosing between two titles for my short film. Which resonates more with you?"

• "I'm location scouting for my next project. What places in our city feel cinematically underused?"

• "I'm casting my lead. What actors are doing interesting work right now that I should know about?"

• "I'm building the color palette for this film. Here are three mood boards. Which one pulls you in?"

• "I'm debating whether to submit to Sundance or SXSW first. What would you do?"

The goal isn't to outsource your creative vision. It's to make your audience feel seen, valued, and included. When they premiere comes, they won't feel like strangers watching your film. They'll feel like partners celebrating a shared achievement.

5. PATH TO BELONG

People want to be part of something bigger.

A film is a moment. A filmmaker's career is a journey. Your audience wants to belong to the journey, not just witness the moment.

This is the final piece of sustainable audience building: creating ongoing reasons for people to stay connected. Not just "follow me for my next film in three years," but "be part of this creative world I'm building."

The filmmakers with the most devoted audiences have created paths to belong. They've built:

• Recurring series (Sofia Coppola's exploration of loneliness and luxury across multiple films)

• Visual signatures (Spike Lee's dolly shots, Wes Anderson's symmetry, Darren Aronofsky's close-ups)

• Thematic obsessions (Charlie Kaufman's interrogation of identity and consciousness)

• Community identity (A24 has "A24 fans," Criterion has "Criterion people," you can have your own community)

When someone says "I'm a Kelly Reichardt person" or "I love everything A24 makes," they're not just expressing taste. They're claiming belonging. They're signaling: "I'm part of this world."

Your job is to create that world and invite people in.

Action: Create a series, phrase, or visual identity that invites people into your world. Give them a reason to stay connected.

This could be:

• A recurring newsletter where you share your creative process

• A visual signature that appears in every film

• A thematic through-line that connects your projects

• A community name for your audience (Ava DuVernay calls hers "the Array collective")

• A Discord or community space where people discuss your work and each other's

• A podcast where you interview filmmakers you admire

• An annual short film challenge you host

• A signature question you ask in every interview

The path to belong isn't about constant content. It's about consistent presence. It's about making people feel like they're part of something that will continue to grow, evolve, and reward their attention.

When you create a path to belong, you're not building an audience for one film. You're building a community for a career.

THIS IS HOW YOU GREENLIGHT YOURSELF

The five principles of the Greenlight Audience Framework are Positioning, Point of View, Proof of Work, Participation, Path to Belong. These are not tactics. They're a practice.

You don't implement them once. You return to them with every project, every post, every interaction with your audience. They're the foundation for building a sustainable creative career outside the traditional gatekeepers.

This is how you stop chasing trends and start building something that lasts. This is how you transform from a filmmaker who makes films into a filmmaker who builds worlds people want to inhabit.

In 2025, the filmmakers who thrive won't be the ones waiting for permission. They'll be the ones who built their own infrastructure, cultivated their own audiences, and created direct relationships with the people who care about their work.

Your audience is out there. They're waiting for someone whose work makes them feel seen, whose vision feels essential, whose world they want to belong to.

Build for them. They'll show up. They'll stay. And they'll greenlight everything you make next.

This is how you greenlight yourself.