Tuesday Talkback: "Based on a True Story"

I saw THE BLIND SIDE this weekend, a movie based on the true story of a homeless teenager who gets taken in by a wealthy southern family and eventually becomes and All-American football player and first round draft pick after developing both his athletic and academic ability. It was a decent film, and certainly worthy of all the good reviews it has been getting. However, I get the sense that it's one of those movies that in three years I'll have completely forgotten.

Anyway, during the film there were a few moments here and there where I would occasionally - and involuntarily - think "I bet that scene is either made up or at least an embellishment." In fact, after the movie, I briefly considered looking up more about the real story and seeing if any of my guesses were right. Then I asked myself, "Does it really matter? Shouldn't the only question be 'Was it an entertaining movie?'"

There are no Oscars given out for "Best Movie Based on a True Story" or "Best Movie Most Like the Actual Events" that inspired it. If the only objective is to produce a well-made movie that's an engaging piece of drama, why should it make any difference if the story is faithfully adapted or made up out of whole cloth?

I see a lot of scripts - some interesting, many boring - that put "Based on a True Story" on the cover page. While I can see the merit in it, there are times when the concept is so dull, or so overused, that it seems like the "true story" hook is meant as a preemptive defense against criticisms of derivative plots or weak drama. Suppose the script in question is yet another story about a teacher who inspires inner city students to find their inner Whitmans. Let's say it hits every expected beat - with the added bonus of only tepid conflict between the main characters.

But when one tries to give the writer notes that would make the script more interesting and dramatic, or suggests changes to make the lead character more flawed and compelling - the writer resists, saying "That's not what happened in real life!"

Should we care? Is there anything that says one can't just change the names to divorce the story from the real people and then rewrite the story with abandon? It is that important for a story to be "based on a true story?"

I've felt that if the only hook your story has is that it's "true," then you're in trouble. Real life is often boring. Would sticking "Based on a true story" on top of, say, BRIDE WARS automatically make it a better script? And at the same time, is the only appeal of PIRATE RADIO that it's "based on a real story?"

That's why the yearly scandals about how the "true life" Best Picture nominee takes liberties with real life are so ridiculous. By the same token, if you enjoy a particular reality show, do you watch because you find the drama compelling, or because the show is "real?" If the former, would it really matter if something like THE HILLS is staged and scripted more tightly than your average sitcom?

So let me ask you this - does it matter to you if a movie is "true?" Would that fact alone get you into the theatre? If not, at what point does that fact become a selling point? If you wouldn't see the movie when it's total fiction, why would claiming fidelity to actual events make the story any more compelling?

And if any of that makes a difference, why is it that audiences care about such details?

Reader questions: Day 2 - Percentage of good scripts

I've got two questions that are basically asking the same thing. First, Trevor asked:

With what percentage of scripts is the quality of formatting and screenwriting craft sufficient enough that you can just settle in and review the story on its own merits?

Hard to say in terms of percentage, but I'd say that maybe at least 75% of the scripts I read fall into this category. There are a lot with formatting errors, but usually by ten pages I've accepted the formatting flaws and managed to commit to reading the story without getting angered anew on each page.

Then Grant wrote:

Out of all the scripts you read, what percent are: Great? Good? Mediocre? Bad?Downright Awful?

As far as "Professional submissions" (i.e. from agents, managers, other industry pros) the numbers break down like this, more or less:

Great - less than 5%
Good - maybe 20%
Mediocre - 50%
Bad - 20%
Awful - 5%

If you add slush pile submissions to this, the bad/awful percentages increase at the expense of Good/Great.

Things That Can F Themselves asked:

what do you think of devoting energy to bypass the script reader entirely? is it worthwhile?

see, i don't trust script readers, b/c i was one. i worked alongside them discussing the mostly horrible scripts we were forced to read, and i just didn't trust the taste of these young kids doing the reading (FYI i am also a young buck). more than recognizing what was bad, they didn't know what was actually GOOD. this isn't to say that my material is awesome, b/c it isn't (one day!), but some of what these kids actually liked, i thought was utter crap. you would think i'd view having them read my mediocre script be a good thing, lower standards and all, but i don't see it that way.

i just don't think most readers are qualified to judge what is or isn't good.so, mr. script reader, i ask you this: how do i avoid you? (not YOU you. you're cool) how do i get someone who's opinion is 'valid,' for lack of a better word, to read my stuff? should i stalk producers/writers/directors' assistants? bribe them with offers of free lunch and sexual favors? should i bother trying to avoid you?

If you have a way to submit directly to someone higher up than the reader, it's always valuable. Now, don't forget that unless you have a VERY close connection with that person, odds are that they will toss the script down the ladder to the reader so that they'll know it's worth their time to read it.

So in that case, I'd say that your most solid bet for doing an end run against a guy like me is to get a very personal connection with someone in power - someone indebted to you enough to take the time to read your submission personally. Those favors are hard to come by - people in power have many demands on their time, and many people clamoring for their attention.

My only real success with this has been by taking advantage of work connections. I've gotten development VPs for whom I have read to take the time to read my stuff, and I've gotten story editors who I came up with to look at my stuff. Agents tend to kick that stuff back down the ladder.

So is it worth your time? Well, it's always worth pursuing new contacts and new relationships. But, if you're sitting on a strong spec and it looks like you might have to wait a year or more for a particular executive to trust you enough to give your script a look-see, you might decide that it's worth the risk to submit your script to that company after about three months and then roll the dice that the reader likes it.

(My experience suggests that unless you're specifically invited otherwise, you should probably wait 4-6 months into the relationship before even THINKING about passing your script to someone at a company you work for.)

But as I said, if you see a chance to sneak one past a guy like me - take it. I'm not sure there's a clear strategy for doing so beyond just reading your contacts and knowing their sense of protocol.

Anyone have any success stories of getting past readers?

Tips from Kevin Smith and Wil Wheaton

Next week I'll resume answering reader questions, but today I'll limit myself to pointing you towards other useful corners of the internet, starting with a really interesting Kevin Smith interview at Ain't It Cool News. Below I've reprinted a rather interesting excerpt that I'm sure will give you all plenty to chew over.

"Everyone thinks there’s a hard, fast rule on what it is, what film is. And, there’s not. It’s something to everybody. That’s why you’ll meet people who are, like, "My favorite movie is JUWANNA MANN," and you just wanna be, like, "What the fuck?" But, guess what, he’s right, or she’s right. It’s so subjective. It’s, like, everything that surrounded them…I mean, that’s the thing…The cineasts, the chilly, cold cineasts just want you to ‘judge the work,’ but, it’s, like, you can’t just judge the work. Nobody just judges the work, man, like, you know, you’re informed…The reason JUWANNA MANN is your favorite movie is not because it’s a great film, but it’s because the night you saw it, man, was when you found out, like, this girl that you really liked did like you back. Or, omigod, that was when we found out we were pregnant, when we saw JUWANNA MANN. Or, omigod, my dog died that day, and then I saw JUWANNA MANN. It took my mind off it. And, plus, it was funny, and the popcorn was so fuckin’ good that night. And, I’ve never had a better blend of soda. So many factors go into it, dude. It’s ridiculous for people to be, like, "I’m going to divorce myself from all of these outside other things, and I’m just going to concentrate on the art."

"It doesn’t work like that. Moviegoing has never been that. And, all the staid critics in the world can’t turn it into that. It’s everything. It’s that fuckin' piece of shit that cut you off on the way in to the fuckin’ movie theater. It’s the fact that you had to park in the back row, and it was fuckin’ drizzling, and so you get in there wet, and you’re fat and you’re sweaty, like I do when you walk, ’cause you sweat when you fuckin’ breathe. And then you sit down. The fuckin’ trailers, you couldn’t even hear ‘em, looked like it was projected through a glass of milk, and you had to get up and tell the motherfuckers, "Would you fuckin’ project it right…or, the sounds not up." And, you sit down and finally watch the movie. And then, it washes over you. But, all this other stuff informs it as well.

"And, that’s the way it should be. Just judging the film itself, it’s like, why bother? Film is communication. It’s me talking to you. It’s the filmmaker talking to the audience."

And since I'm sure many of you are headed for some long car trips this weekend, may I suggest some fun podcasts? One of my favorite bloggers and all-around awesome guys, Wil Wheaton, recently wrote a book called Memories of the Future. The book humorously reviews the first thirteen episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, on which Wheaton appeared as Wesley Crusher.

To promote the book, Wheaton has spent the last three months recording weekly podcasts in which he performs excerpts from each entry. There are moments in these that are laugh-out-loud funny, particularly if you've ever seen any of the... shall we say... uneven episodes that formed the first season of TNG.

In addition to some ribbing of the show, Wheaton manages to sneak in a few writing tips. In the podcast for Lonely Among Us, he rails against overly expositional dialogue, humorously remarking that at times, the show fell into a pattern of just having characters enter a scene with no motivation beyond saying something for the audience's benefit... or as he puts it:

"Uh, I've got some exposition to drop off here. Could you sign for it? Where should I put it?"

There's also a great moment in the podcast for The Battle where he finally understands why his character was so hated for so long by many Trek fans.

I haven't actually read Memories of the Future yet (hint, hint for those looking for a stocking stuffer for me this holiday season) but in addition to the podcasts I have read Wheaton's TV Squad posts that essentially formed the first drafts of these entries. It's clear that the book itself is even more densely packed with jokes, and I'm sure it's well worth the read.

Happy Turkey Day, y'all.

"Two schmucks short" - Writing is a business

Let's be honest, folks. It's Thanksgiving week in Hollywood and anyone who lives here knows what that means - no one's working. Judging from the fewer hits and comments yesterday, fewer of you are reading blogs this week too. That being the case, I don't want to waste a good Tuesday Talkback on a lame duck week. Still I feel obligated to offer some amusing content. Having just come from a particularly hilarious meeting of my writer's group, I think I'll offer these words of wisdom from some very funny guys in their late 20s.

On this particular day, our lone female member brought a pitch to the group, then almost immediately apologized for it. She started to say that she knew it was lame and goofy, but it was right up the alley of a particular contact she'd made and she knew this was the kind of material that buyer went for. She thought this was stupid - but I disagreed and offered the following pearl of wisdom:

"Don't write from the heart, write for the wallet."

I admit, it's a bit crass and cynical and I'm sure that several readers who fancy themselves serious artists are ready to fire off an angry comment disagreeing with me. The fact remains that screenplays are written to be sold. I've said this before and it's true. Yes, it's possible to write a wonderful, meaningful script and get it produced with the right buyer but never forget the key word in that equation: "Buyer."

No one writes screenplays just to write screenplays. People write screenplays to make movies. To turn that particular caterpillar into a butterfly, you need money. That money doesn't appear out of the ether - it comes from people who see it as an investment, hoping for a return.

In other words, making an artistic statement with a screenplay is most feasible if you can make a few bucks on it. As another member of my group put it, "It's not 'selling out,' it's 'buying in.'"

I also offered the following thesis to the group: "All you need to sell a script is one schmuck to represent you and another schmuck to buy it."

Our unofficial chairman then made this statement: "Hell! I'm two schmucks short!"

Aren't we all?

Reader questions: Day 1

I'll start off with these questions from Kevin and Kerri, because I get them so many times a week that I really should start an FAQ just to answer them:

Will you read my fucking screenplay?

Nope, sorry.

How much do you charge for coverage?

I don't. Sorry guys, but I don't offer coverage services at this time. Maybe I'll get around to it down the line, but right now I'm a little busy with my regular work and my own writing. There are a few hurdles I'll still have to clear, not limited to working out some kind of legal release form as well as working out some way to accept payment anonymously.

Jen writes in to ask:

Just wondering if you have any books you'd recommend for learning the ins and outs of script coverage? I'm an aspiring TV writer and think it would be helpful to learn more about how readers break down a script and what they tend to look for during the coverage process.

I hate to say this, but I learned more from coverage simply by getting my hands on some samples and diving in with both feet. I'm sure there are books out there with examples, but that's not how I picked it up. Anyone have any suggestions for Jen?

It helps to read a lot of movie reviews, particularly from reviewers who get you to really look beneath the surface of the movies you see. For me, it was reading a lot of Roger Ebert's reviews and columns that really helped. There were also a lot of TV review blogs I read regularly in college. All of that got my inner critic in the habit if breaking down a story.

But the basic format of coverage tends to be: one paragraph intro/overview, one paragraph on plot/concept/structure and one paragraph on characters and character arcs, followed by a conclusion. Four paragraphs, one page.

Purpletrex asked a trio of questions:

Do scripts longer than 120 pages automatically get thrown in the trash?

No... but in most cases they probably start out with one strike against them unless you're a "known" quantity.

Also, what is the "acceptable" number of pages in a spec these days.

Depends on the genre. Comedy definitely hovers somewhere around 100-105 pages. Action is more likely to be 105-115. Horror is usually anywhere from 95-105. Drama's probably somewhere around 105-110. As much as the screenwriting books say that 120 is the typical length, the "average" industry script probably falls between 105-115 pages. I'd say that 95% of the "pro" scripts I read fall in the 105-115 range.

Has any spec longer than 120 pages ever made been bumped up the ladder?

I'm sure it happens, but statistically speaking I'd bet the odds of making it up the ladder go down the longer the script gets. If you're over 120 pages, there had better not be a single scene that feels too long or self-indulgent. Believe me, there's always something you can cut.

More answers later this week, and if you've got a question, please send it in.

Friday Free-for-All: Musical shows

My favorite new show this season is Glee, which is consistently entertaining despite the presence of two utterly, utterly stupid pregnancy plotlines. (I'm coming around on the Quinn/Finn pregnancy, but I still think it was a bad story to do so early in the run. There is NO redeeming value in the Terri pregnancy, or Terri as a character, though.)

Impressively, the show seems to be popular despite the fact that musical shows have rarely caught on. Either you get examples like the Jamie Waters drama The Heights, which managed to produce a Top 10 hit in "How Do You Talk to an Angel" but still tanked in the ratings. Remember it? Sure you do!



Gotta love how quickly that band jam session comes together. And could that long-haired guitar player BE more 90s? Man, everything about this screams "cheesy."

And who could forget Cop Rock? I couldn't decide which of these clips was more cringeworthy so I had to post both.

A Call for Questions

Well readers, I've received a few emails this week with questions that will soon make upcoming blog entries, but other than that, email questions have been pretty sparse lately. Consider this an invitation for open forum questions, much like what Scott did over at Go into The Story last week.

So hit me up with your question(s) and topics you'd like to see addressed in the blog. Email me at zuulthereader@gmail.com, Twitter me at @BittrScrptReadr, or just comment below.

I've just hit 200 followers on Twitter so if everyone sent me just one question, I'd have enough to keep me busy for a year. There's no limit on questions, and feel free to be creative. Answering your questions is one of my favorite things to do on this blog.