The things people ask before they start.

A home for a studio’s files and the conversation around them — the shoot, the cut, the selects, the sign-off and the final send — kept in one place, and a far more stylish one than you’re used to.

Fourteen days, no card. You sign up with an email, claim a subdomain you can rename later, and put one project’s files inside. If it does not feel better than what you use now, you leave — we will not chase you.

Yes. Drag a whole folder tree straight in from your desktop and the nested structure is kept exactly as it was. A large library is no trouble: uploads are chunked and resumable, and they keep running in the background while you carry on working, so moving a lot of files across does not mean an afternoon held hostage to a progress bar.

Yes. Film plays in the browser, and it is reviewed where it lives: comments weld to the exact moment they are about, versions sit side by side, and a note can be marked resolved so the conversation moves forward rather than in circles.

Large. Uploads are chunked and resumable, so a multi-gigabyte film survives a flaky connection without starting over, and a whole shoot uploads in the background while you carry on working — even on another page.

It searches what the file actually carries — the camera and lens, where and roughly when it was taken, the words a project lived by — rather than the exact filename. You can ask in plain language and it does its best to understand what you half-remember.

Yes — a native app that puts the whole library in Finder without filling your disk. Files are there to open the instant you want them and quietly absent until then, and you can right-click to share exactly as you already do.

No. A share is a clean, branded page anyone can browse and download from with a link — no login, no sign-up, no friction at the one moment you cannot afford any.

Yes, and it is one of the quietly useful things here: each link keeps its own record of how many times it was opened, whether the files were taken, and a gentle nudge the first time someone reaches it — so you are never left wondering whether the email arrived.

A clean page they can browse and download from with a link — no account, no sign-up, and none of the constant prompts to make one that you can’t stand either. Just the work, and a Download button.

You pay for storage, not seats. Add a junior, a freelancer for a fortnight, or the whole team, and the bill does not move — which means the part-time bookkeeper can be told, in a sentence, exactly what the line item is for.

You move up a storage tier when you need the room, and that is the only thing that changes. Seats stay unlimited the whole way up. The pricing page lays out the tiers plainly.

On Backblaze B2, a serious, modern object store, in a data centre in Amsterdam — in the EU, where it stays. We chose it deliberately, for durability and for keeping a European studio’s work in Europe, under infrastructure we control rather than shipped off across an ocean.

Yes. Access follows how studios actually delegate, an area can be sealed to its owner alone, every move and share and deletion leaves a trail you can read back, and there is a Data Processing Agreement in place. The full terms live on the privacy and DPA pages.

Anything deleted — file or folder, on the web or the Mac — moves to a recoverable trash and can be restored for thirty days before it is purged for good.

Always. Your files export cleanly, in formats other tools can read, with no toll booth on the way out. It is your work; we are only keeping it somewhere better.