Shotwright

One workspace for every director on your roster.

A shared visual workspace that turns scattered references and docs into a shoot-ready plan, in your studio’s voice.

Every project ships a production book your crew can shoot from, with the brand kit, oversight, and controls a studio needs.

Run the whole slate from one place.

One house style
Every director works in the same workspace, so pitches and books ship in your studio’s voice, not five different templates.
Oversight without babysitting
See every active project from one place. Admin analytics show what is moving and what is stuck.
Faster pitches
A brief and a first treatment in minutes, so you turn RFPs and inbound around while they are still warm.
One source of truth
References, scripts, shot lists, and the final book live together per project. No more chasing the latest version across tools.

Built to run at studio scale.

Shared workspace
One workspace for the studio, a canvas for every project, and a folder structure your team already thinks in.
Brand kit
Your logo, type, and colors applied to every production book and export, on every project.
Admin + analytics
Manage seats, see active projects, and track output across the roster from one panel.
Real-time collaboration
Directors, producers, and clients work the same canvas live, with share-for-review links and version history.
Per-seat pricing
Add editors as you staff up, remove them when a project wraps. Studio billing is admin-managed.
Enterprise controls
SSO / SAML, SCIM provisioning, audit-log export, and data residency for larger organizations.

Every project ships a production book.

Brief, treatment, shot list, and breakdown, drafted from the canvas and compiled into one print-ready binder, in your studio’s voice.

Creative Brief
Closing Time
On the last night the Rialto’s projector will ever run, the man who has threaded every reel for thirty-one years plays one final show to the neighborhood that grew up in its seats.
Concept

We spend the final night inside a single-screen cinema, the week before the wrecking permit clears. The marquee still works. The carpet does not. We are there from the afternoon load-in to the moment the booth goes dark.

The film lives in two rooms. Downstairs, the house fills with people who had first dates here, who saw Jaws here, who bring their kids to a place that will not exist on Monday. Upstairs in the booth, Sal threads the last reel the way he has threaded every reel since 1994, by hand, by feel, not looking down.

There is no narration. The building does the talking: the rattle of the platter, the warm dust in the beam, the sound a thousand seats make when they tip up at once. We end on the beam cutting out, and the ordinary work-light coming up on an empty house.

Bring the whole roster onto one canvas.

We’re opening access to production companies in waves. Leave your details and we’ll reach out to set your studio up.