Run Detail

I'm going to give you the honest version, because you asked for no mistakes. Some of this isn't what you want to hear, but all of it is stuff that has sunk movies exactly like yours.

Things that could completely screw you

1. Filming at the Airbnb without permission. This is your biggest risk. "Making videos about your stay" means vlogs. Shooting a commercial film — which this is, even on phones — is a different thing in essentially every Airbnb contract. If the host finds out mid-shoot, they can make you leave, you lose $1840 and your shoot, and you have no location release. Worse: distributors like Tubi require a location release for any identifiable location. Without one, you legally cannot deliver the movie. Email the host now, say you're film students/hobbyists shooting a tiny no-crew project, offer a deposit. Many hosts say yes. Some charge a small fee. That's the money you need to find.

2. The song. You cannot "buy the rights later." Tubi and Amazon (through aggregators) require proof of licensing for everything — music, any visible logos, etc. — before they'll accept the film. An unlicensed song means the movie sits unreleasable. The good news: an unknown local band will often license a song for a few hundred dollars or even a deferred/split deal, if you ask now. Ask now. Get it in writing. "We'll fix it later" is how movies die in post.

3. The LLC with no agreement is worse than you think. Equal ownership with no operating agreement means your state's default rules govern — and those rules don't say what you think they say about who owns the movie, who can license it, or what happens when someone quits. Also, the copyright to the film doesn't automatically belong to the LLC unless paperwork assigns it. Spend $0: write a simple one-page agreement yourselves (who owns what, how profits split, what happens if someone leaves). It's not as good as a lawyer, but it's infinitely better than nothing.

4. You need signed releases from everyone on camera. Yes, even Kaylee and Sam, even friends. Distributors require performer releases. If Kaylee and Dev break up in November and she withdraws consent, your movie is dead. One page, signed before the trip, everyone. Free.

5. Festivals after Tubi = mostly dead. Almost every festival requires a premiere. Once it's on Tubi, you've premiered. If festivals matter, decide the order now: festivals first, then platforms. (Honestly, for this kind of movie, going straight to platforms is fine — just know you're choosing.)

6. The taxes. Your uncle is wrong in ways that cost money.

• Deductions only apply if the LLC is a real business trying to make profit, not a hobby. The IRS has specific tests.
• The iPhone 17 Pro Max: if it's your personal phone too, only the business-use percentage is deductible — and buying a $1,200 phone right before a $3,600 movie looks exactly like what it is.
• Meals are essentially never deductible (business meals are 50% and only in specific contexts, not "we ate while filming").
• The girls' clothing: costumes can be deductible, everyday clothes they keep and wear normally are not.
• A deduction is not a rebate. Spending $500 to save $120 in tax is losing $380.

Do not build your budget around write-offs. Talk to an actual CPA once, it's cheaper than an audit.

7. Marcus calling out of work. His call, but if he loses the job, your editor disappears mid-project. That's a production risk, not just a personal one.

What you haven't thought about

• Four days is brutally short for a feature. Found footage helps (fewer setups), but you need a shot list and a schedule down to half-days, or you'll come home with 60% of a movie and no way to reshoot. Improvise dialogue, never improvise coverage — know exactly what shots each scene needs.
• Sound. You're half right. Found footage should sound raw, not inaudible. Phone mics at a campfire = wind destroying every line. The single cheapest production-value boost in existence: one $25 wired lavalier mic or a $30 recorder placed near the fire. Audiences forgive bad image instantly; they click off bad audio in two minutes.
• Back up footage every night. Two copies, one offsite (upload to cloud from the cabin). A lost phone on day two ends the movie.
• Drinking. Wrap first, drink after. Drunk actors blow takes, drunk camera ops drop phones, and night shoots in the woods with a firepit + alcohol is genuinely how people get hurt. Also: anyone visibly intoxicated in footage can't legally sign a release for that day.
• Fire safety and permits. An open fire with hooded figures dancing around it, in Humboldt County in late September — that's peak fire season. Check burn restrictions before you go. A wildfire started by your movie will end your lives, not just your film.

Making the movie actually good

• The phone-face-down shot is your best idea. Static, accidental-feeling framing is the grammar of found footage. Do more of that: a phone left recording on a table, propped on a shelf. Lean into "the camera doesn't know what it's capturing."
• Skip AI-animated twig dolls. Current consumer AI video will look wrong, and wrong-looking instantly kills the realism that's your entire genre. Practical is free and better: fishing line, stop-motion, or just implication — a doll that was definitely not there before is scarier than one that moves.
• The Chrome extension Google search is genuinely clever. Keep it. Shoot it multiple ways (over shoulder, screen record) so you have options in edit.
• The taxidermy cabin is a gift. Use it. Slow pans, things in the background of conversations that viewers notice on second watch. Rewatchability is found footage gold.
• Your differentiator isn't scares, it's the group. The reason Blair Witch worked is you liked the people. Your real chemistry and improv instinct is the asset — protect it by recording tons of "nothing" scenes (the drive up, cooking dinner, the running jokes). That's the stuff that makes the horror land.
• The $90 night vision attachment will likely be garbage. Test it in the dark before the trip. Backup plan: shoot on one phone and let another phone's flashlight be "discovered" later in the scene.

Getting on Tubi/Amazon

You don't submit to them directly — you go through an aggregator (Filmhub is the standard for micro-budget films; it's free to submit, they take a cut). They will ask for: releases (cast, location, music), proof of LLC ownership, closed captions (budget ~$100 or do it yourselves), artwork, and a trailer. Everything above — the releases, the song, the location permission — is what they check. That's why it's not paperwork, it's your distribution plan.

The one-sentence version

Your creative instincts are better than most micro-budget movies; your legal/business assumptions (Airbnb, song, LLC, taxes, releases) are the things that will actually kill this — and every one of them is fixable this week for under $300 if you act now.