How to make a proof of concept that actually (and affordably!) proves your concept
We developed this article from content presented in a GOLD workshop with development executive, writer, and producer Christine Walters. Listen to her Three Day Companion podcast here!
You’ve written the pilot. You’ve got the pitch deck. You know exactly what the show could be…if someone would just give you the money to make it. Big IF!
Then someone says: “You should make a proof of concept.”
Cool. But…what is that? And what, exactly, are you supposed to prove?
A proof of concept is a small piece of a larger project designed to demonstrate why the larger project works.
It might be a short scene, a mini-episode, a character reel, a sizzle, or even a “full” short film.
The important thing isn’t the format. It’s the proof.
Start with WHAT you need to prove.
Before you think about cameras, locations, actors, or budgets, ask yourself:
What does someone need to see in order to understand why this should be a bigger project?
Maybe it’s getting to know the central character. Maybe it’s in the specificity of the premise. Maybe it’s the chemistry between two people. Maybe it’s the whole visual world or the format itself.
A proof of concept can demonstrate:
- The concept: What is this?
- The characters: Who are we following?
- The conflict: What keeps things moving?
- The tone: How does it feel?
- The format: How does it work?
- The voice: Why are you the person to make it?
IMPORTANT: You don’t need to prove ALL of those things. In fact, trying to prove everything can make the piece much less effective.
Figure out the one or two things that make your project special, and build your proof around those.
Find the smallest story that demonstrates the biggest idea.
DO NOT just make a miniature version of your entire pilot.
You shouldn’t even try to cram every character, storyline, joke, and plot point into five minutes.
Instead, find the smallest possible story that demonstrates the larger one.
FOR EXAMPLE: If your show is about a dysfunctional family, you might not need to introduce the entire family tree. Give us one situation that shows exactly why these people are worth watching.
If it’s a workplace comedy, find one interaction that exemplifies why the workplace and the relationships inside it are funny.
If it’s an unscripted format, demonstrate the actual engine of the show.
The viewer should finish the piece thinking: “Okay, I get it. I see how this works. And I want to see more.”
Make the concept easy to understand.
A useful way to think about the story is:
Protagonist + conflict + inciting incident + action.
If the audience can understand the premise immediately, you’ve done your job really well.
You don’t need to explain the entire series. You’ve demonstrated the engine that could keep the series going.
Choose the material that does the most work.
One of the easiest traps is choosing the biggest scene because it looks impressive on the page or will look super cool when done right.
It’s a trap! Instead, choose the part(s) you can actually make well.
If your script contains a helicopter crash, 200 extras, and a collapsing building, but you have $500 and three friends with cars, maybe don’t shoot the helicopter crash.
That doesn’t mean you have to abandon the idea. It means you need to find the version of the idea that you can execute convincingly.
Ask: What is the strongest thing I can realistically make?
And then: Does that thing actually demonstrate what makes my project special?
- If your show lives or dies on a particular character, put your resources into the actor.
- If it’s highly visual, prioritize the visual world.
- If the magic is in the chemistry between two performers, don’t spend your entire budget on a fancy location.
TL;DR: Spend your resources proving the right thing.
Know what you’re making as well as you know your show.
The terminology can get a little muddy, but it helps to distinguish between a few common forms:
- Proof of concept: Original material designed to demonstrate that a larger project works.
- Short film: A complete short-form story that can sometimes function as a proof of concept for a feature or series.
- Sizzle: A high-energy reel designed to communicate a project’s appeal, often combining footage, music, graphics, and other material.
- Tone reel: A visual mood board in motion that communicates the project’s aesthetic, atmosphere, and style through existing (sourced) footage or images.
- Trailer: A piece designed to sell something that already exists.
They’re not interchangeable, but they can accomplish overlapping goals. The question is always the same: What helps the person watching understand?
And then: Make the thing. (Affordably!)
The good news is that a proof of concept doesn’t have to cost a fortune.
A few ways to stretch your resources:
- Use what you already have: friends who act, shoot, edit, score, design, or have access to locations.
- Look for collaborators: student filmmakers, actors looking for reel material, and other emerging creatives may be excited to work on something they believe in.
- Think beyond traditional production: local cable-access facilities, community arts organizations, and other programs may offer equipment or resources.
- Spend strategically: put money into the elements that will actually appear on screen and communicate your concept.
- Don’t wait for perfect funding: a small proof of concept can help you attract the funding, collaborators, or production partners you need for the next version.
- Think of it as a step: festivals, producers, managers, collaborators, and potential funders can all become part of what happens next.
You don’t need to prove that you can make the entire dream come true.
You just need to give someone enough evidence to believe the dream works.
