Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Tuesday Talkback: How do I get started?

 Wes writes in with a question that I imagine a lot of new writers struggle with:

I am not a writer!  Never formally trained in the art of crafting a story or grabbing a reader (audience) and letting them journey to a place or thought or mood I want them to go.

I have an idea for a story.  I feel it’s a good one.  The problem is I know how I want my story to end.  It is a vivid image that I have actually pre-visualized from final twist to end credits in my mind.   I know the meaning I want the reader to explore.  What I am having problems with is getting there and getting there in a format that will attract, engross, and satisfy a “gate keeper”.

I have been watching TV episodics more closely.  I have become critical of easy and convenient exposition.  I have read a few working scripts and screenplays to familiarize myself with the format and cues of dialog and scene.

What more should I do to get me from a critical viewer to a critical crafter?

I am possessed by the daemon of the blank page with ideas running frenzied in my head and nothing fish-boned or outlined.  I need something more than sit down, shut up, and write! 


"Sit down and write" probably would have been the start of my advice.  There are amateur mistakes that every writer is going to make when they get started, so I'm a big believer in buckling down and getting them out of the way.  No matter how much you prepare, odds are that the first draft of your first script will be ridden with mistakes. 


If you've gotten to the point where you can critically study someone else's work and learn from it, you're probably ready to apply that to your own work.  So crank out a first draft and then go to town on it.


What advice do all of you have for Wes?

Monday, October 10, 2011

Mailbag: Don't send me this email! also Length and locations

I've really been lax in dipping into the mailbag, so I'm going to try to clear out a few questions that have been sitting around for months.  Sorry guys!

First, I'm going to withold the writer's name so as to not embarrass them.  This landed in my Inbox with the Subject line "Ill give you 50% rights if u like my script."

If u read n like my slap stick comedy script n gets sold give u 50% of what iget 4 it trust its nt a bad script 

Look, you can't even compose a one (well, technically two, but you forgot a period) sentence email without demonstrating you have no capacity for writing a coherent phrase.  Why would I subject myself to 120 pages of that?

Also, never promise a reader half of your take.  It's just tacky.

From Clint:

You read a lot about screenplays being too long, but when is a screenplay too short?

If you flip to the last page and see "131" you have one impression. What do you think when you flip to the last page and see "91"?

Um, "Yippie?"

At one of my old gigs, the readers would come into the office and take the scripts off of a stack that had be left out for us.  The first thing I'd do before even considering signing a script out would be to look at the page length.  Anything near 90 pages got grabbed first... unless it flunked my second test - opening the cover page and seeing a period date at the start.

I didn't always leave the longer scripts.  A clever title always got me to pick up something closer to 120.  The only time I'd take anything over 120 was when I recognized the writers name, or it had been passed over so many times by others that I was the unlucky fool who had to get it done before the deadline.

Having a 91 page script MIGHT indicate that you're a little light on content, but that's an issue unique to the script.  As far as it repelling a reader - it's not likely to happen.  If you're at 85 pages, that's probably when I start to think the script is likely to be light on story and/or plot twists.

Chris asks:

I had a question that I had not really found touched upon in your blog. It has to do with the naming conventions of slug lines. I have noticed that some screenplays use the same name throughout, while others use a generic term (i.e. SUBURBAN HOME), then once they introduce whose house it is, from that point forward it is referenced as that character's house. 

If you look at the February 19th version of "Crazy, Stupid, Love" by Dan Fogelman, he starts off the house as being "SUBURBAN HOUSE", then once it is stated whose house it is, the house is referenced as "TRACY AND CAL'S HOUSE", then finally, "THE WEAVER HOUSE". While I understand that there really are not any hard and fast rules governing the formatting and other naming conventions, I just wanted to see what someone, in your position, considered the norm. 

Lastly, I understand that an error as minor as this might not play any part into the rejection of a screenplay, I'm trying my best to remove any sort of amateur mistakes as possible. 

I think for clarity, it's usually best to keep the same name throughout.  Sometimes that might not be possible, as when you need to identify a location, but stating it as "Steve's House" might give something away for some reason.  Also, this is one of those things that might affect a script report.  If you're trying to figure out how many scenes take place in a particular location, having inconsistent names for the locations can throw off that count.

So it's probably a good habit to get into, but as you note, it's not something that's likely to affect the Consider/Pass rating on your script.

Friday, October 7, 2011

Friday Free-for-All: Sean Young begs for an audition... again

This has to be one of the more awkward things I've seen this week.  Back in 1991, Sean Young mounted a rather... enthusiastic campaign to play Catwoman in Batman Returns.  She'd been cast as Vicki Vale in the original Tim Burton Batman, but had to bow out after an injury.  So when the sequel came around a few years later, she decided she should let it be known that she was willing to play the part.

Unfortunately, this included going on The Joan Rivers Show in full Catwoman regalia, basically begging/demanding an audition.  As if that wasn't bad enough, she made her way onto the Warner Bros. lot and attempted to confront Tim Burton directly.

Now, when something like this becomes what you're known for in Hollywood, you'll find that doors aren't just closed in your face, but locked and deadbolted as well.  So Sean Young's actor career soon dwindled.  Two decades later, if you mention her name to someone in Hollywood, the Catwoman campaigning is probably one of the first things that springs to mind.

So Ms. Young decided the time had come to try to put to rest some of those old demons.  And what better way to do that than by going onto a talk show and begging for an audition?

Sigh... the more things change...



Thursday, October 6, 2011

The "And Then" Problem - as explained by South Park's creators.

South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone recently crashed an NYU Film class on its first day and imparted some wisdom to the students that is simple, but essential when crafting a story.  I'll let Trey Parker explain  (around the 4:00 mark).  In the event the embed doesn't work for you, go here:



"We found out this really simple rule... we can take... the beats of your outline, and if the words "and then' belong between those beats, you're f**ked, basically.  You've got something pretty boring.  What should happen between every beat you've written down is the word 'therefore' or 'but.'  

"So you come up with an idea and it's like 'this happens... and then, this happens.'  No, no, no!  It should be 'this happens... and therefore, this happens.'  [or] 'this happens... but this happens.'"

In transcript form, that probably reads more confusing than it plays.  I recognized this advice immediately, though, because it's something I term the "And Then Problem" when writing up coverage.  As most of you know, writing up coverage usually involves producing a story synopsis.  Nothing makes you aware of the weaknesses in story construction more than trying to boil down 120 pages to a page and a half or two pages of description that covers all the important moments while still flowing effectively.

A well-constructed script often makes for an easily written synopsis because there's that domino effect that Trey is essentially describing.  One scene clearly connects to the next and has an impact. Bad scripts jump all over the place before settling on a direction - or they pick a direction only to sputter and allow intermediate beats to drop the ball.

If it helps, describe your script to someone and see how often you find yourself resorting to "And Then" in your descriptions.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

People can't tell you they want things they can't imagine - words of wisdom from a network president

Proving that not all TV executives are as foolish as their reputations, Fox Television entertainment president Kevin Reilly gave an incredible keynote speech at MIPCOM earlier this week.  One segment in particular really spoke to me:

Many successes are the result of happy accidents. I’ve come to be as respectful of that, as I am of clear vision. In fact, I think one important aspect of clear vision is setting up the possibility for a happy accident. Like any executive, I put a high value on analysis and strategic thinking. However, I’ve also seen over-thinking squeeze out innovation and grind down alternative points of view.
We often look to research to guide our decision. I’ve certainly found research to be a helpful tool, and we do a fair amount of it on both programming and marketing materials.  I’ve seen it accurately identify a break-out show like ER for example, that many executives didn’t understand at first.

[...]

The fact is, if I had relied solely on research results, I would never have gone forward with some of the shows that I am most proud of and that marked some of my biggest successes. The Office was a horrifically testing pilot, even though a very small base of young people loved it. American fans of the British original were disappointed and the new audience thought Steve Carell’s Michael Scott, was mean spirited and the show depressing and boring. We tested Glee four times, all with the same negative result: it was a show that nobody liked. It didn’t fit neatly into any reference bucket: comedy, drama or musical. As a result, it seemed to be rejected. Therein lies the trap — when you poll people about what they want, they don’t know how to tell you they want or like things they can’t yet imagine.

Steve Jobs made products that people didn’t know they couldn’t live without. When Jim Cameron was making Avatar, few could have imagined that tall blue people was something the world wanted to see. Far more movies and television shows have failed for being bland than being bold.

Unfortunately when a bold bet fails it’s met with the question, “what were you thinking?” So more often than not, we stick to the formula. Yet I’ve rarely heard asked, “What were you thinking putting on a derivative, boring show that looked like everything else?” I don’t understand that. I think now, more than ever, the audience simply won’t indulge it.

Be bold.  Give your audience something they didn't know they needed.  That is something every creative type should aspire to.

You can find the transcript of the entire speech here.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Tuesday Talkback: Fantasy Network Executive

Okay, it's been a few weeks into the new TV season.  That means we've been able to see at least two episodes of the new shows.  If you could cancel one show, what would it be?  If you could retool one show what would it be? And if you could give one show a full-season pickup, what would it be?

As I've got several friends working on shows competing for renewal, I'll avoid choosing sides by answering that question.  For cancellation, it's a dead heat between Whitney and The Playboy Club.

For retooling, I think Ringer is fixable, but it might require ditching some of the noir feeling and make it a full out guilty pleasure on the order of Revenge.

Monday, October 3, 2011

The era of the female screenwriter is over for good... until the next breakout hit "shocks" everyone

Earlier this summer, a new era in female-driven movies was declared when Bridesmaids had a strong showing at the summer box office to the tune of $169 million domestically, and $286 million worldwide.  I can't count how many articles I saw touting this as a victory for female screenwriters and womens' movies in general.  Again and again, executives were quoted as being invigorated to discover that the female audience *gasp* buys tickets to films featuring female protagonists.

In fact, so great was the return on Bridesmaids, it made everyone forget how incredibly annoying most of Kristen Wiig's original characters have been on Saturday Night Live and it even won Melissa McCarthy an Emmy.  (I know, the Emmy was ostensibly for the sitcom Mike & Molly, but I ask you - do YOU know anyone who watches that show?)

I couldn't help but chuckle at all of these "rah rah sisterhood!" articles - not because I have anything against female writers, mind you.  It's just that I've seen ALL of those articles and their thesis before.  It happened after Sex & The City, it happened after The First Wives Club, and I'd be willing to bet that there were similar articles after Thelma & Louise came out.

The routine: a movie targeted at a minority demographic makes a big splash - usually on a somewhat conservative budget.  The stars of the film are splashed all over the industry press for a few weeks, along with analysis that there's a vastly under-served audience out there that could yield.  Thinly-veiled ripoffs of this film are announced - begining  a trend that lasts until a solitary inferior film in that genre tanks.  This insures that when another film in that genre "inexplicably" is a hit a year or two down the line, the analysits are shocked anew.

So what I'm saying is - pretty much every female screenwriter in town is pissed at What's Your Number? for opening in eighth place this past weekend.  This is solid proof that when it comes to selling tickets for shitty concepts and poorer execution - it's a lot easier to dupe male audiences than female audiences.

This phenomena isn't limited to just female-driven films.  Tyler Perry has made a career out of going just long enough between movies for people to forget that black people go to the movies too.  Thus, every film he makes is not only a profitable hit - but it reasserts his position as a filmmaker whose works are basically a license to print money.  Amazingly no other filmmaker or studio has really taken advantage of the audience that Perry has shown time and again is there.

Furrthermore, the success of Bridesmaids was in part because it appealed to women AND men.  If you have something that speaks to a passionate audience that isn't often catered to and still draws in the men who go to, say, Adam Sandler comedies, that's where the money lies.  Similarly, consider why Will Smith is one of the biggest stars in the world - because he draws the African-American audience - and is beloved by the mainstream (read: "white") ticketbuyers.  If studio heads had any sense, they'd invest serious money in creating another black superstar capable of headlining movies that would have been once led by Harrison Ford and Mel Gibson.

And if I had any sense, I'd be writing a film with an ensemble African-American cast, with a few funny ladies thrown in for fun.

Screw it, I'm making that my next project - a comedy about maturing African American "playas" who get a new perspective on romance as they woo a bunch of comedicly gifted Caucasian ladies.  I think I'll call it Where All the White Women At?

So what can you, the writer, take from this?  Easy - every trend is cyclical.  It's always the Year of the Woman until a bomb comes out.  But even when the trend goes fallow it ALWAYS comes back.  So if you're halfway through a female driven ensemble comedy - finish it!  If you've got a great script that just so happens to be predominantly African-American in cast, don't worry, its day will come.  If it was hot before, it will be hot again.

So hang in there, ladies.  If your script's any good, it'll have its day.