Baltimore Filmmakers Collective aims to level the playing field for creatives

Eric Cotten takes Baltimore storytellers seriously.

His ethos is instinctual: He sees something in the countless local creatives he encounters every day through his work as founding president of the Baltimore Filmmakers Collective. But it’s also partly inspired by the troubles he faced trying to be taken seriously in the field.

“I was excluded. I wasn’t treated well,” Cotten said of his early experiences trying to break into the local film scene after careers in nursing and real estate. “My feeling in life is, — if people don’t treat you well, create your own course.”

That course became the Baltimore Filmmakers Collective, an organization built on the principle that anyone — LGBTQIA+ filmmakers, low-income artists, first-time screenwriters — deserves a creative home as long as they are willing to work, collaborate and grow.

“We wanted inclusiveness,” he said. “Anybody who wanted in, without exception.”

Since its founding in 2016, the nonprofit has expanded from a small circle of friends into one of Baltimore’s most active grassroots film groups, producing more than 25 short films and raising nearly $200,000 without traditional fundraising campaigns. The collective regularly collaborates with other local, creative companies working toward the same mission: to uplift Baltimore.

Today, Cotten, who also programs the Maryland Film Festival’s “Balti Shorts” and screens films for festivals nationwide, uses those experiences to shape the Collective’s hands-on approach, especially for newcomers who arrive with big dreams but little knowledge of how production works.

“If you’re a first-time director asking for a $100 million budget, we’ll tell you good luck,” he said with a laugh. “And for actors who say they want to walk the red carpet, we tell them: go to Home Depot, buy a $6.59 red carpet and walk it. It’s the most cost-effective thing you can do.”

The humor is part of the charm — but the message is serious. The Collective offers honest guidance, realistic pathways and a welcoming community. “We put our arms around you,” Cotten said. “We welcome you to the family, and we take you as far as you’re comfortable going.”

For some, that means learning to direct. Others discover they prefer to write. Many simply need permission to trust their own creativity.

“Baltimore is full of diamonds in the rough,” Cotten said. “People come up to us at events and say, ‘I have an idea.’ And I say, ‘Tell me your idea. Let’s hear your voice.’”

One of Cotten’s key collaborators is producer and editor Imani Muleyyar, founder of the Baltimore Cinematic Universe media company. Muleyyar’s ambitious platform aims to bring together artists and filmmakers to produce shows and movies that push past the narrow depictions that have long defined Baltimore on screen.

“Baltimore has some of the best artists in the world,” said Muleyyar, who returned to Baltimore after a decade working professionally in Washington, D.C., and Las Vegas, where he built a career in combat sports media. He met Cotten at one of the many gatherings of returning creatives in Charm City. “They just need a little extra technique. A little refinement and they’ll be killing the game.”

Under his previous platform, The Imani Network, Muleyyar experimented with short-form programming and artist-centered content. With several award-winning projects under his belt, he expanded the vision into long-form television and film.

“We unified the film community, and we’ve already gone into production,” he said. “It’s about workforce development, too — getting the community involved, not just filmmakers. People can learn how to get on set, be part of the crew, even build careers.”

One of the first collaborations between the Baltimore Cinematic Universe and the Collective was a short documentary on Motor House, the beloved arts hub that is home to studios, rehearsal rooms and offices — including Muleyyar’s own workspace.

When Motor House began planning a film for its anniversary celebration, Cotten quickly made the introduction.

“I was upstairs,” Muleyyar said, laughing. “Eric made the connections. I just took the elevator.”

The film, an 11-minute documentary featuring artists including Joyce J. Scott and celebrates Motor House’s history and its role as a cultural anchor.

“In Baltimore, places like this are essential,” Muleyyar said. “It’s not just a safe space — it’s an elevated space where you can do high-level work. And being surrounded by other artists multiplies your creativity.”

Despite being separate entities, the missions of the Collective and the BCU intertwine: to create opportunity, elevate local voices and shape a more collaborative Baltimore film industry.

And when it comes to the ever-present concern of funding, Cotten views Baltimore as a place where creativity stretches far.

“You should never start a project until you have money in hand,” he said. “But Baltimore is fertile ground. You can do a lot with very little if you have patience and collaborators.”

The Collective, the BCU and films like the Motor House documentary represent a new era — one where Baltimore creators take ownership of their stories and help others tell theirs.

“You have a story in you,” Cotten said. “Tell me about it.”