Friday Free-For-All: Yom Kippur at WME

Twitter is a funny thing.  Recently in one fell swoop I got to interact with childhood crush Danica McKellar AND make a frenemy-for-life of screenwriter Geoff LaTulippe ("Going the Distance").  This occured when I beat him to the correct answer of one of Danica's regular anagram tests, prompting him to say, "I can't wait to hit you in the mouth."

Bring it, Geoff.

Frankly, I'm not scared of him, but in the interests of detente, I'd like to feature his new short "Yom Kippur at WME," starring the incomparable J.B Smoove.

Great concepts: Kurt Busiek and Stuart Immonen's Superman: Secret Identity

I want to put in a plug for one of my favorite comic books, which just so happens to be getting a reprint this week.  Superman: Secret Identity is one of the greatest Superman stories - nay, greatest comic stories - ever told... and it doesn't even feature the real Superman.  Perhaps I should explain.

Secret Identity is a wonderful example of a writer taking a familiar property and finding a completely different spin on it.  Were Superman in the public domain like all the fairy tales that seem to be in production these days, we might even see a writer develop this brilliant concept as a screenplay, as it offers the chance to reinvent Superman in a way that might make him more accessible to a modern audience.

The graphic novel is set in the "real world," that is to say - our world.  It's a world where Superman is a fictional character, and our hero is a young man born to the Kent family - and who was tagged with the unfortunate first name of "Clark."  As you might expect, this ensured a nearly-daily ritual of taunting and teasing. 

Then during one night of camping, Clark wakes up and he can fly...  and in short order he figures out he has all of Superman's powers.  He starts doing good deeds in secret, but superpowered feats like that don't go unnoticed, even if the local "Superboy" can't be proven to be more than an urban myth.  At Halloween, Clark dons a Superboy costume, hiding in plain sight as his abilities are called upon to end a catastrophe.

The incident convinces Clark to continue being a hero in secret.  The story was released in four chapters, with each chapter covering a different installment of Clark's life.  We watch him grow from boy into man, fall in love, start a family, and even work in secret for the government.  The artwork by Stuart Immonen is gorgeous, having almost a painted quality to it.

But all that art would be just pretty pictures without Kurt Busiek's wonderful story behind it.  It's more than just a cool concept - it's a very well-developed portrait of a young man who becomes a hero.  Character comes first in Secret Identity and though the story takes some turns, the comic's appeal is less about what Superman does, and more in who Clark Kent is.  There's more depth and development given to this Clark than just about any character who's headlined a superhero film in the last decade.

The story really explores what it might be like for a Superman to exist in "our" world.  But this isn't the story of Superman so much as it's the story of Clark Kent.  If you removed every reference to Superman, you'd still be left with a very strong, three-dimensional character in Clark.  Busiek's Clark has real depth and it's wonderful to watch him mature over these issues.  Clark's arc is the backbone of Secret Identity, and as the story heads into its final pages, it has one of my favorite lines in all of comicdom.  (I won't reveal it, as it doesn't quite have the same power out of context.  It's a sentimental line, I'll say that much.)

The story had been collected in a trade paperback that has long since fallen out of print.  DC Comics had decided to reprint the four-issue miniseries in two volumes.  The first volume was released this week, and for a mere $7.99, you can get the first 96 pages of the story.  Run to your comic store and ask for this.  You'll see how even the most familiar of heroes can be reinvented in a way that makes him accessible to people who probably aren't usually attracted to superhero comics.

Very Special Episodes: Ham-fisted writing at its finest

If you're part of my generation, you'll likely have a certain association with the words "Jesse Spano" and "caffeine pills."  Yes, I'm sure the Pointer Sisters haven't sounded the same to you since.

Anyway, I don't envy writers stuck with an assignment to impart a message or life lesson to their audience.  I think that it's possible to use drama and comedy to put forth certain messages or ideas.  The problem is that when the message is the raison d'etre for the entire story, writers tend not to trust an audience to get any subtlety or nuance.  Thus, the result is the "Very Special Episode."  Sitcoms of the 80s and early 90s were crawling with these.  For one week, the escapism you got from your favorite show would be replaced with the future Chandler Bing dying in a car crash to teach us all a lesson about drunk driving, or Alex Keaton having an emotional breakdown from survivor's guilt.

But those are only scratching the tip of the iceberg.  Check out this salute to the Very Special Episode.

Tuesday Talkback: Scarring the minds of today's youth

I was talking to some friends of mine who work in casting and they told me about a fun little girl they met on the job.  This eight year-old girl spoke of how her favorite movie was The Dark Knight, and when questioned further about this, she said she was very impressed with the cinematography and then apparently went into a long discussion of what she had learned from the Blu-Ray special features about how they shot and edited the film.

My first thought: Wow, an 8 year-old who actually knows and appreciates what cinematography is.

My second thought: An 8 year-old was allowed to see The Dark Knight?!?!?!  How was a second-grader allowed to see something that violent?

I was appalled by this.... until I remembered that when Tim Burton's Batman came out, my parents took me to see it in the theaters.  I was nine.  My brother was seven.  And as violent as that film was, I don't recall being scared or scared by it.  My parents, on the other hand, probably are still reeling from the scars caused by having to listen to the Prince soundtrack to Batman on every long car trip for the following year or so.  (Look, I'm sorry.  I'd take that back if I could.  Besides, I'm pretty sure your selections of the Les Miz soundtrack were punishment enough for my younger incarnation.)

Also, my parents were smart in that they recognized that the emotional damage a Tim Burton film could do to a nine year-old was nothing compared to the sheer hell that a nine year-old would make of your life if you stand between him and said Batman film.

So how about you guys?  What films did your parents let you see at an early age that now make you go "Wow, I don't know if I'd put that in front of a ten year-old?"

Lesson: When pushing your work, think outside the box

It's probably not any secret that when it comes to breaking in, writing a great script is often only part of the equation.  Your brilliant writing still needs to get noticed by people who can do something with it.  The problem - everyone in town is trying to get noticed to.  Anyone who's reading scripts already has more scripts than they can deal with - so getting someone to agree your writing is a major favor.

Nobody owes you a read.  And a young writer just starting out, if they're lucky enough to get representation, is likely to find themselves a low priority for that agent.  I came across this article about how Boardwalk Empire creator Terry Winter executed some unusual tactics to get his script into the right hands.  After getting his hands on a list of agents who accepted unsolicited submissions, he recognized the name of a guy he went to school with.  Problem: when he called up this guy, he found out the guy had become a real-estate attorney and didn't really know anything about being an agent.

Most writers probably would have said, "Crap" and bemoaned the lousy luck of their networking.  Winter instead had a great idea.

So we made a deal where I would create basically a phony agency with his name. I did this out of the Mail Boxes Etc. on Santa Monica Boulevard, and I got a voice-mail system and letterhead printed up. I said I’m gonna submit my work under your name, and if I get anything, I’ll give you ten percent like a real agent. 

I took a day off from work and hit like every sitcom office in L.A., which at the time, there were like 26 sitcoms on the air. And I just walked in wearing a baseball cap and said, Yeah, hi, I’m the messenger from this agency and here are the scripts you wanted. And I thought, all right, at least my scripts are in the building where people theoretically could hire me. 

A couple of weeks went by and I got a call on a Friday from Winifred Hervey Stallworth, who at the time was the showrunner for “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air,” and she was calling for Doug, who was my agent. And she said, Yeah, Doug, it’s Win Hervey from “Fresh Prince.” I read Terry Winter’s scripts and really think they’re great. We’d love to maybe talk to you about having him come in to pitch. 

So I called Doug in New York. At this point it was like 4 in the afternoon in L.A. and 7 in New York, and he was already gone for the weekend. So I thought, Oh, God, I’ve gotta wait until Monday now. And then it occurred to me that Doug didn’t really know anything about being an agent, so I thought, you know what, I can just call and say I’m Doug and it’ll be easier to cut out the middleman. 

I called her and she said, Oh, great, Doug. Oh, you know, “Fresh Prince” is sort of a teenage-oriented show. Does he have like one more teenage kind of script? And I said, Yeah, he just finished a “Wonder Years” spec that’s really terrific -- which was a lie. I didn’t have anything else at that point; she had everything I wrote. 

I said, Terry’s out of town for the weekend, but I could probably get this to you by Tuesday. And she said, Yeah great, Tuesday’s fine. I hung up the phone, and from Friday night until Tuesday afternoon, I cranked out a “Wonder Years” script, and then I threw the baseball hat back on, went as a messenger again and showed up at the office, flung it in the door, made sure nobody saw me, because at this point I was like the messenger, the agent, the client …

So there you have it.  You've got to be your own biggest advocate.  You can read the rest of Winter's story here.

Here's what I like about this story - Winter used his resouces in a way that took advantage of the system, but wasn't arrogant or obnoxious about it.  Too many aspirings think that being their own biggest cheerleader means they have to be obnoxiously arrogant and overconfident.  I get emails now and then that read something like, "I am the greatest writer who ever lived!  I know this is the best script you'll ever read and if you turn it down, years from now you'll be sorry that you weren't the one who found me!"

Confidence is good.  Overconfidence is off-putting.  Sending me multiple emails also isn't a good idea to get my attention.  And a good way to REALLY piss me off is send me an arrogant email, then write by in a few days getting angry that I haven't replied one way or another.

Let me put it this way: have you seen those auditioners on The X-Factor who come in saying they're the next Mariah, Whitney, or whoever?  How often do those guys really blow you away when they sing?  More often than not they sound worse than a drunk Linda McCartney on karaoke night.  Then, when told they aren't making the cut - notice how many of them become combative.  Notice how many of them invite Simon to have sex with himself and then rant to the cameras how the competition sucks anyway and the show is full of people who don't know what they're doing - or they had to get rid of this person because they were just too damn good.

The screenwriting world is full of those types too, people who mistake their own arrogance as a virtue.  Don't be the guy who tells Simon to fuck himself.  Be the guy who walks his script into the office, takes the call that follows up and then leverages that into another submission.

Wanted! Puppetmaker!

I've got a project I'm about to start and I'm looking for someone who could make a custom puppet for me.  I need something in the vein of a Bert & Ernie or an Avenue Q type of hand puppet.  I've got some designs for what I want, but I don't have the artistic talent to execute it.

If anyone out there is more artistic than me and would be interested in doing this, please shoot me an email at zuulthereader@gmail.com.  If possible, include examples of your work and an estimate of what your prices would be.

Thanks all! I hope one of you out there can help.

Every screenwriter has his limits

No matter how good you get as a writer, you can't expect to write everything.  There are certain styles, subjects and tones that a particular writer might be excellent at, while being completely inept in others.  In fact, the best screenwriters are probably those who understand not just what they're capable of, but also what they're NOT capable of.

Take Aaron Sorkin, for example.  In this Daily Beast article, he talks about a conversation he once had with Steve Jobs:

[Jobs] wanted me to write a Pixar movie. I told him I loved Pixar movies, I’d seen all of them at least twice and felt they were small miracles, but that I didn’t think I’d be good at it. 

STEVE: Why not? 

ME: I just—I don’t think I can make inanimate objects talk. 

STEVE: Once you make them talk they won’t be inanimate. 

ME: The truth is I don’t know how to tell those stories. I have a young kid who loves Pixar movies and she’ll turn cartwheels if I tell her I’m writing one and I don’t want to disappoint her by writing the only bad movie in the history of Pixar.

 Most writers would kill for Aaron Sorkin's talent... and yet, there are still things he's afraid of.