
As much of a triumph as Sean Baker’s “Anora” has been for independent cinema—winning both best picture at the Oscars and the Palme d’Or at Cannes on a $6 million production budget—it’s only one facet of America’s bold new filmmaking landscape. There are plenty of writers and directors making equally daring work for a fraction of that cost without the machinery of a major distributor like Neon to elevate their work.
In recent years, more than a few movies created on the fringes of the industry have carved an unexpected path toward sizable audiences and critical recognition. And though it would be a stretch to call these projects mainstream successes, they’ve indeed stepped out of obscurity and into the limelight.
One such case is “The People’s Joker,” in which filmmaker-star Vera Drew explores her own experiences as a trans woman through a mixed-media fantasia that reimagines Batman’s fiercest foe. The content is as outrageous as its aesthetics are anarchic. Drew made the project for about $100,000 with the help of artists from around the world who created animated sequences and backgrounds.
Though the movie enjoyed a buzzy premiere at the 2022 Toronto International Film Festival, subsequent screenings were canceled due to copyright issues with Warner Bros. Discovery, which owns the rights to the Joker. When Drew’s wildly ingenious parody finally got a theatrical release in 2024, it was viewed by eager audiences the world over.
Distributed by the small but mighty Altered Innocence, the film gained momentum thanks to its artistic merits, positive word of mouth, and amped-up media coverage. To top it all off, Drew won the Gotham Independent Film Award for Breakthrough Director, competing against productions with far more resources, as well as the New Generation Award from the Los Angeles Film Critics Association.
Then there’s “Hundreds of Beavers,” a wacky, delightful, “Looney Tunes”–esque silent slapstick comedy shot in black and white. The film chronicles the mishaps of Jean Kayak (Ryland Brickson Cole Tews), a down-on-his-luck 19th century applejack salesman fending off beavers in a snowy forest while courting the daughter of a local merchant. For added humorous effect, the non-human characters are played by people in animal suits.
Credit: SRH
The movie is the brainchild of co-writers Mike Cheslik (who also directed) and Tews. Dissatisfied with the offers they received after its 2022 premiere at Fantastic Fest, the Wisconsin duo opted to self-distribute on a $150,000 budget. “Hundreds of Beavers” went on to gross over $1 million at the box office, and almost three years later, it continues to screen to sold-out crowds.
What these two movies lack in visual effects (both look endearingly, impressively handcrafted) they make up for in ingenuity. It’s easy to overlook what could be considered technical shortcomings given the sheer, against-all-odds enthusiasm that went into both—and that authenticity is a big part of the reason they’ve become fan favorites.

There’s no better blueprint for the potential of grassroots support than the “Terrifier” franchise, Damien Leone’s bonanza of extreme violence and gore, released between 2016 and 2024. Though not for those with qualms about seeing blood and mutilations onscreen, the films have amassed a cult following.
The third installment, “Terrifier 3,” was an enormous success, making almost $90 million worldwide on a $2 million budget; a fourth is currently in production.
Leone first gained attention from horror fans with his short films before making the first “Terrifier” with the help of an angel investor. He raised money to make the 2022 sequel via a crowdfunding campaign that exceeded expectations, bringing in a whopping $250,000. Leone’s grotesque slasher flicks, which center on a murderous clown, are so graphic that they likely wouldn’t exist in their current form if they’d been made through more conventional avenues.
Courtesy Cineverse Corp
The “Terrifier” series is a prime example of why nontraditional funding and distribution models can be worth the added struggle for the sake of artistic freedom. In an era when studios are staking their futures on preexisting IP, it’s doubtful anyone would handle these types of projects with the same care as the people who created them.
Drew, Cheslik, Tews, and Leone have found viewers attuned to their wavelength by believing in their peculiar, niche ideas. For all the bleakness of the current entertainment industry, what these defiant storytellers have accomplished on their own terms proves that it’s still possible to forge a sustainable film career without sacrificing creative autonomy.
This shift hopefully signals to viewers that they can look to microbudget (and no-budget) indies to find voices that dare to express what large corporations can’t—or won’t—put onscreen.
This story originally appeared in the May 1 issue of Backstage Magazine.