Paper That Earns Its Keep: Building a Screening Programme People Actually Take Home

At our last screening, we watched someone do the thing every programmer quietly hopes for: they folded the programme lengthways, pushed it into a coat pocket, and took it to the pub. Not a souvenir. Not a prop. A thing with a job. That is the standard we now design to.

Start with the pocket, not the poster

The first decision is size. A4 looks impressive on a table and terrible in a pocket. We use A5, trimmed to 148 x 210mm. It fits a jacket, a tote, or the back pocket of someone's jeans without a fight. If your programme needs its own carrier bag, it is already furniture.

For Redcat Studios, the programme is not a miniature brochure. It is a working document for a room full of people who are about to sit in the dark. They need to know what they are watching, when it starts, how long it runs, and whether the Q&A is before or after the bar. Anything else is decoration, and decoration gets left under a seat.

The paper stock argument

Cheap does not have to mean nasty. We print on 120gsm uncoated recycled stock, sometimes with a 170gsm cover if the budget stretches. Uncoated paper takes pencil, doesn't glare under venue lights, and feels like something printed for a person rather than a supermarket shelf. Gloss is the enemy: it slides, it shines, and it makes a twelve-page programme feel like a takeaway menu.

We have nothing against a cheap print run. We do have something against a print run that feels disposable. The paper is the first signal. If it is flimsy, people treat it as litter. If it is a little heavier than expected, they keep it on the kitchen table for a week.

Two staples, one decision

We saddle-stitch. Two staples on the spine, square to the fold, not one staple in the top corner. A corner staple says 'read once and lose me'. Two staples say 'this is a small publication'. It is a tiny thing, but staple placement is a design decision, not a stationery afterthought.

If you are doing it yourself, fold first, then staple. Use a long-arm stapler and check the pages nest properly before you commit. Staple too close to the edge and the paper tears; too far in and the programme won't lie flat. We aim for two staples evenly spaced along the spine, about 20mm in from each end. It sounds fussy. It is fussy. It also stops the thing from feeling homemade in the wrong way.

Typography for people in dim rooms

Most screening programmes are read in low light, in a hurry, by someone who has already taken their coat off. That changes the type. We set body text at 9.5pt on 13pt leading. Film titles get weight, not size alone. Start times use tabular figures so the running order doesn't wobble down the page. We avoid light grey small caps, thin sans-serifs, and anything that looks beautiful on a monitor and disappears in a community hall.

One typeface with a couple of weights is enough. Use bold for film titles, regular for synopses, and a clear rule or space to separate entries. Do not make the schedule a puzzle. If a reader has to work out whether 19:40 is the doors time or the first film, the programme has failed before the lights go down.

What goes in, and what stays out

The essentials: running order, start times, runtimes, a short synopsis for each film, the Q&A plan, content notes, and a thank-you to the venue and volunteers. We keep synopses to about forty words. That is enough to orient someone and not so much that they read the whole film before it starts.

We leave out the director's full filmography, the long mission statement, and the QR code that is the only route to the actual information. A programme can point online, but it should not depend on a signal. One short URL is fine. Ten is a cry for help.

We also leave a page for notes. Not because everyone writes notes, but because a blank page makes the object feel useful. People doodle, jot down a filmmaker's name, or write the title of the short they liked. That page is often why the programme goes home.

The bit nobody budgets for: distribution

A stack on a table is not distribution. Hand one to each person at the door. Put them where tickets are checked, not where people are already looking for a seat. If there are ushers, give them a line: 'Programme?' It is not pushy. It is the difference between 150 printed and 60 taken.

We also keep a few back for the Q&A, for visiting filmmakers, and for the venue staff. Leftovers are not failure. They are next time's reference copy. But a programme that never leaves the building has not done its job.

The cost, and the point

Our last run was 150 copies, A5, twelve pages, saddle-stitched, on recycled uncoated stock. It came in under £120 at a local printer. That is not nothing, but it is less than a lot of people spend on a single social media boost that disappears by Thursday.

A post can be scrolled past. A programme gets picked up again at the bus stop, stuck on a fridge, or handed to a friend who missed the screening. It carries the film's name into a room the film was never in. For an independent UK screening, that is worth two staples and a bit of paper.

We are not anti-digital. We are pro-object. If the next screening has budget for one extra thing, make it the thing people can hold.