Designing the digital communication platform that replaced the 15-page PDF and kept 200+ crew inside Impact long after hiring ended.

The Problem
Impact launched as a networking and hiring platform for Hollywood productions. Coordinators could connect with crew, post jobs, and get people hired. That's the top of the funnel.
But after someone got hired, they stopped using Impact entirely. Retention dropped the moment the deal was done. They went back to email, text threads, and a 15-page PDF to do the actual work on set.
That forced a strategic question: is Impact a hiring tool, or a production platform?
Film sets are brutal environments for software.
14-hour shoot days, poor cellular signal on soundstages, 200+ crew across 15+ departments. The existing tool was a PDF — either printed or saved to your phone. To reach someone you'd scroll, find the number, and exit to your native contacts app. New coworkers needed an introduction before their first message landed. No separation between personal and work life.
We expected crew to be the loudest complainers. We were wrong.
Coordinators were in more pain than anyone on set. Every time someone joined or dropped off a production — which happened constantly — a new crew list had to be rebuilt and resent to all 200+ people. No version control. Multiple copies floating around. No single owner. Every change fell on one person.
Whatever we made had to work for the person maintaining the list just as much as the people consuming it.

How might we build a retention cycle where Impact is the platform for networking, hiring, and on-set work — not just the beginning of the funnel?
Approach
The most obvious starting point was also the most contained one: replace the PDF. Turn the crew list into a searchable, digital directory — one tool instead of a static document. Clear problem, clear solution, tight enough to actually ship.
We set two north stars to guide the work.
Fast, searchable, organized by department — the way crew already thinks on set. Not a contacts app. Not a spreadsheet. Something built for how film actually works.
Productions end. Crew moves on. But those relationships are the foundation of the next job. The tool needed to preserve that network across projects, not reset it.
What we didn't know yet:
We were solving the right problem for the wrong user. And we were about to find out through building.
Early Exploration
The first concept was the lowest-lift path: crew uploads the PDF and the app parses it into a digital contact directory, separated from their personal contacts. No coordination required. Built on top of Impact's existing network and design system — familiar patterns, reduced risk.
Two things didn't work. First, it still sent people to their native phone to actually communicate — we hadn't built in-app messaging, so the retention problem was completely untouched. Second, as crew added more shows, contacts from different productions got mixed together with no separation. The more you used it, the messier it got. Coordinators were still maintaining the PDF outside the app. We hadn't reduced their workload at all.

The next version separated crew lists by production — active versus archived, clear department breakdown, roles visible without filtering. Anyone on the production could upload an updated crew list and everyone got invited automatically. The production-scoped approach solved the crowding problem from Version 1.
But two things still didn't hold. First, version control broke down immediately. When anyone can upload an updated list, no one owns that responsibility — multiple versions floating around, exactly the same problem as the PDF but now inside the app. Coordinators were still creating the list elsewhere.
Second, and more importantly: we still hadn't committed to in-app messaging. People used the directory and left to iMessage. Neither north star had been hit in a way that was durable — and we didn't yet know what we were missing.

Both versions showed real promise — but neither was a clear enough answer to commit to. And there was a bigger strategic question we hadn’t resolved: how does a mobile crew list connect back to Impact’s web platform, and how do we monetize it in a way where studios would actually pay?
So we made a deliberate call — pause CrewChat for a month or two and shift focus to the hiring tool we were building on the web. We needed to understand the full product arc before adding another surface.
When we came back, the problem was sharper. Neither version drove daily active users. Neither felt like something crew couldn’t live without, or something that actually saved coordinators time. The directory was useful. But it wasn’t essential. And on a 14-hour shoot day, anything that isn’t essential gets ignored.
The through-line became obvious: communication was still happening off the app. iMessage, email, PDFs — none of that had changed. As long as that was true, we weren’t building something crew opened every day, and we weren’t creating the viral loop that would pull new crew into Impact’s network.
Not a workaround in iMessage. Not a group chat with unknown numbers. A purpose-built communication layer where every contact is verified, role-tagged, and scoped to the production.
Productions are their own ecosystems. Announcements, department threads, the social layer of a shoot — all of it was scattered. CrewChat needed to be where that community actually lived..
With all four north stars in place, the concept shifted entirely. Not a crew list feature — an on-set communication tool. Something crew couldn't do without on a 14-hour shoot day.
Version 3 was a different concept entirely. One coordinator owns the list and is onboarded first by our CX team. Email invites go to the address already on the crew list — which forces everyone onto the platform. There's no opt-in ambiguity. If your email is on the list, you get an invite.
In-app messaging was committed to fully — not an afterthought but a core tab. Crew list, messages, and later file distribution became three equal primary surfaces, not one main feature with buried secondary ones.
We also explored QR codes as the onboarding mechanism. Seemed frictionless. But QR codes didn't force the download — you could scan and leave. Email was the forcing function. That single decision is responsible for most of the adoption numbers that followed.
Networking got people onto Impact. Hiring brought them back. CrewChat was how we kept them inside the platform during the production itself — and where the viral loop finally closed.

Design Decisions
On a film set, you think by department — not alphabetically. "I need someone from Art Department." Not "I need someone whose name starts with B." The structure matched the physical crew list they already used every day. We didn't ask anyone to change their mental model. We made it digital. Each department row showed member count at a glance. The production switcher stayed in the header — always visible, never in the way.
Every other tool crew used was light mode — IMDb, Synchronize. We went the opposite direction. Darker felt more modern. But it was also practical: film sets have dark environments — stages, night shoots. A bright white interface is genuinely uncomfortable in those conditions. We built light mode out far enough to test on set. Crew still preferred dark. The resource cost of maintaining two modes wasn't worth it. We committed.
Left side: profile photo, then name in semi-bold at the brightest value on the row, then role in regular weight below. Name is what you're scanning for. Role is what you're verifying. Right side: call and message icons in white outline circles — findable without competing with the name. We removed profile photos from the department view entirely — about 35% of crew had never uploaded one, so the original layout was perpetually broken.

The original version: tap a department, swipe into a new screen, find the person, tap call or message. To get to the next department — press back and start over. On a 14-hour shoot day, that back button is friction. Field complaints flagged it. Timed unmoderated tests confirmed it.
The redesign: tap the caret and the department springs open inline. The name becomes a sticky header while you scroll. The next department appears at the bottom — you never lose your place, no back button required. A message-all button inside each expanded department: one tap to reach everyone in that section.


Evolution
What I didn't fully anticipate at the start: how tightly each piece connected to the next. We weren't stacking features. We were building infrastructure, one workflow at a time — and each piece revealed what the next one had to be.
Users found use cases we hadn't designed for.
As the product matured we added @mentions, emoji reactions, and an announcements channel — a broadcast-only space for coordinators and department heads to post to the whole production. Then we noticed something we hadn't planned for.
Crew were organically using group chats to share files. The announcements channel was being used to distribute full production documents. The chat wasn't built for it — phones lagged opening message threads heavy with PDFs, size limits were being hit, there was no rich text formatting, and nothing handled the security requirements studios actually needed: watermarks, no downloading, no screenshotting.
Now we had real usage data — file types, sizes, access patterns. We built the foundational pieces first — rich text, scoped access, file security — then tackled the larger feature. Cutting file distribution from the MVP was the right call. The live product told us exactly what to build. When we built it, we built the right thing.

File Distribution — the feature the announcements channel had become, done properly.
Coordinator-owned, with watermarked PDFs per recipient — leaks have accountability. Files organized into color-coded distro lists so coordinators can scan by category at a glance. Rich text body, large file support, scoped access by recipient group.
This replaced the announcements channel for document distribution and replaced the last piece of off-app workflow — email. The full loop finally closed: get hired → work on set → find your next job, all inside Impact.

The Arc
We began with one specific pain point: the PDF crew list. Low visibility, tight scope. Just make it digital and searchable on mobile.
But every version we shipped taught us something the next version had to answer. The crew list revealed that communication was still happening off the app. Messaging revealed that file sharing was happening in the wrong place. File sharing revealed that document security and distribution needed a real system. And each of those systems had to exist on both mobile and web.
By the time we were done, this wasn't a feature anymore. It was a full product. What started as a mobile crew list had become the on-set layer of Impact's platform.
Replace the PDF with a searchable, department-organized crew list. Coordinator-owned, single source of truth, email-forced onboarding.
In-app messaging, @mentions, reactions, announcements channel. The layer that kept crew in Impact instead of iMessage.
File distribution, watermarked PDFs, access-controlled document library. The last piece of off-app workflow, closed.

Impact
The viral loop worked. Studios were onboarded through coordinators. Once productions were running inside Impact, the enterprise conversation became straightforward — the product sold itself into the studio layer. Scenechronize had been charging $30,000 or more per production workflow engagement. Impact delivered comparable capabilities at a fraction of that cost.
Next Steps & Reflections
The pause was a product decision, not a delay
Stopping CrewChat to focus on the hiring tool gave us the clarity we couldn't get by iterating in place. When we came back, we understood the retention problem differently — as a communication problem, not a directory problem. Sometimes the most important design work is the work you stop doing long enough to think about.
The forcing function matters more than the feature
Email invites worked because they made joining mandatory. QR codes felt frictionless but created an opt-out. In any product that depends on network density, how you get people in is as important as what they do once they're there.
Cutting from MVP was the right call — every time
Call sheets and on-site status indicators were both designed and both cut. The live product validated every cut. Users told us through behavior exactly what to build next and in what order. Shipping incomplete isn't failure. It's a listening strategy.
Offline-first should have been a launch requirement
We knew signal was poor on soundstages but didn't prioritize aggressive caching from day one. Files inside message histories would lag 10–20 seconds in low-signal environments. I brought it up early but didn't push hard enough. Given the constraint, I would have made offline-first a requirement rather than something we retrofitted.