I promised myself I’d be finished with The D Line by March 31.
March 31 is almost here.
But I’m gonna make it. Yesterday I cracked a wee problem in the third act, and I’ve addressed the concerns of my friend/reader mentioned in the last post, in a way that still maintains the intended spirit of the script. The slight restructuring/streamlining in act three will actually also help with the clarity issue my friend was concerned about.
And as for Dismal, we’re just about done with deliverables – finishing up some revised foley after a couple of QC failures. Our distributor, Showcase Entertainment, has closed deals with Germany and Greece and is narrowing in on Japan. The domestic distribution won’t happen until all the deliverables are in, but that should be in the next couple weeks.
So hopefully soon I’ll be posting a link where you can buy your very own copy – it’ll be in Blockbuster, Wal-Mart, Best Buy, Netflix, etc. Because I know everyone is gonna buy a copy. For themselves and for their mother.
Right?
Until then, if you wanna see us on Showcase’s site, go to http://www.showcaseentertainment.com/ click on What’s New and look for Dismal.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Too Delicate?
I’ve been a television producer for years – mainly docudramas for channels like Discovery and Nat Geo. This has helped me a great deal as a writer in some ways – even as I write, I instinctively think in terms of producibility: locations, casting, props… what it would take to pull off. This nuts-and-bolts mind is good to have – especially since by now it’s fairly instinctive and it doesn’t interfere with the creative mind required for writing a good story.
But in my early scripts, the style of my writing was too much like a producer. I was including far too much direction for the director and actors and art department and… well, every department. Because when you’re the series producer of a cable TV show, you have to do that. You’re the chief, you call the shots. Literally.
And you better make it clear for everyone, because with our budgets, we don't have time to dick around.
But a spec script going out into the thin-ice pond of Hollywood should not have all that stuff in it. Too much of that shit pisses people off. They want to feel like they have some ownership in it, that they can make some decisions. Which they should.
So I’ve worked on paring it down in my scripts, cutting it back, keeping action descriptions lean.
And I was just about to send The D Line out into the world, to see if anyone would bite. I’m comfortable with it – I really like it now. Then a respected friend, with many years developing scripts in Hollywood under his belt, suggested that maybe I pared it down a little too much.
It’s a drama, a lot of emotion – and emotions, though powerful, are best when rendered subtly. Or at least I think so – histrionics tend to make me roll my eyes, and I think the most powerful emotional moments in life are quiet But my friend said I should be careful – that in his experience, most of the people who will be reading my script at the early stages are not very sophisticated, and some of the important stuff, if not spelled out more clearly, might slip by them.
So although I was feeling basically finished, and I keep promising to stop working on it, I’m doing one more pass. Not to dumb it down – I can’t bring myself to do that, and this is not the sort of script that would work dumbed down. But I will go through with an eye to making sure all the important emotional beats are clear.
It's a tough call - finding that small place that sits the appropriate distance between too much and too little. Especially in such a fickle business.
But this is what we've chosen to do, right?
I'm giving myself until the end of the month. And then I will stop and let it lie as it is and get it out there.
Because I need to move on to the next one.
And right now, that’s a battle between the action script I’ve been inconsistently working on for a while and a new thriller that my brother and I are considering writing together.
I was really enjoying the action script – but now I’m really intrigued by the thriller. And by the challenge of writing with a partner, which I’ve always wondered about. Plus it’s my brother, which would be cool.
But in my early scripts, the style of my writing was too much like a producer. I was including far too much direction for the director and actors and art department and… well, every department. Because when you’re the series producer of a cable TV show, you have to do that. You’re the chief, you call the shots. Literally.
And you better make it clear for everyone, because with our budgets, we don't have time to dick around.
But a spec script going out into the thin-ice pond of Hollywood should not have all that stuff in it. Too much of that shit pisses people off. They want to feel like they have some ownership in it, that they can make some decisions. Which they should.
So I’ve worked on paring it down in my scripts, cutting it back, keeping action descriptions lean.
And I was just about to send The D Line out into the world, to see if anyone would bite. I’m comfortable with it – I really like it now. Then a respected friend, with many years developing scripts in Hollywood under his belt, suggested that maybe I pared it down a little too much.
It’s a drama, a lot of emotion – and emotions, though powerful, are best when rendered subtly. Or at least I think so – histrionics tend to make me roll my eyes, and I think the most powerful emotional moments in life are quiet But my friend said I should be careful – that in his experience, most of the people who will be reading my script at the early stages are not very sophisticated, and some of the important stuff, if not spelled out more clearly, might slip by them.
So although I was feeling basically finished, and I keep promising to stop working on it, I’m doing one more pass. Not to dumb it down – I can’t bring myself to do that, and this is not the sort of script that would work dumbed down. But I will go through with an eye to making sure all the important emotional beats are clear.
It's a tough call - finding that small place that sits the appropriate distance between too much and too little. Especially in such a fickle business.
But this is what we've chosen to do, right?
I'm giving myself until the end of the month. And then I will stop and let it lie as it is and get it out there.
Because I need to move on to the next one.
And right now, that’s a battle between the action script I’ve been inconsistently working on for a while and a new thriller that my brother and I are considering writing together.
I was really enjoying the action script – but now I’m really intrigued by the thriller. And by the challenge of writing with a partner, which I’ve always wondered about. Plus it’s my brother, which would be cool.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Last Night: Gone Baby Gone
What. A great. Movie.
Authentic. Compelling. Suspenseful.
Thoughtfully written. Beautifully shot. Rhythmically edited.
Real, round, perfectly imperfect characters.
Even a fine score.
And an ending that hurts everyone with a heart and a brain.
Bravo, Ben. Bravo.
Authentic. Compelling. Suspenseful.
Thoughtfully written. Beautifully shot. Rhythmically edited.
Real, round, perfectly imperfect characters.
Even a fine score.
And an ending that hurts everyone with a heart and a brain.
Bravo, Ben. Bravo.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Ease Up On The Rule Thing
Gooserats wrote about this recently, and it reminded me that this has been gnawing at me lately.
One note I almost always get on my stuff is about one of the Golden Rules: don’t write anything in action description that doesn’t correspond directly to what the viewer will be seeing on screen.
Not a bad guideline, I agree, but definitely not an essential rule.
I think the rule came into being to help budding screenwriters remember that although the script is written on paper, it’s written for a visual medium. So always think of what it’s gonna look like and relay that. Of course. Absolutamente.
But I think two overriding guidelines are 1) we should enjoy the writing of the thing while making sure readers enjoy the reading of it, and 2) we should trust readers to do a little work themselves.
It’s difficult and lonely work, writing, so we need to have some fun doing it. I mean, come on, not all of us are getting rich off it. Give us something. Also,it’s boring to read a million screenplays as anyone in the business has to do, so readers should take some enjoyment out of it, too.
I’ve heard directors and actors complain about screenplays spelling things out too much for them, not allowing them to draw conclusions, make imaginative leaps, have a brain. You can in fact describe a physical condition without stating it too literally.
I mean think about it: when you’re watching a movie and there’s a bunch of clunky exposition, doesn’t it annoy you as a viewer? You’re sitting there rolling your eyes thinking, “Okay, thanks, I get it. Let’s move on.”
Same thing a reader thinks, I think, when everything is laid out too literally in a script.
I was reading the script for American Gangster recently. A couple of examples from it, courtesy of Steven Zaillian. The first regarding the fact that writers should have some fun writing and readers should enjoy the read:
Nice, right? Now, you can’t exactly see “ the cash registers ringing up sales Bumpy will never see a piece of” but, as a reader, don’t you appreciate the artfulness of it? Isn’t it a better way of saying Bumpy’s about to die and his extortion days are over? And if you were Zaillian, wouldn’t you die of boredom and never write again if you couldn’t write like this?
Another example, a few pages later, regarding how description can actually be visual, without being too literally visual:
Two things there. Some people might call Zaillian out on “which hurts Richie more than it does Campizi” and on “A policy ring’s accountant wouldn’t be bad.”
But I submit that those actually do reflect something that can be seen. You just have to do a little work. And I mean a little work –- it’s not hard.
True, the first one doesn’t read, “Richie screams and cradles his hand while Campizi barely whimpers” but you can see how those two actors would react to that punch, can’t you?
And the second one, to be more literal, could be something stupid like, “Richie raises his eyebrows, smiles slightly and nods his head” but that would be, well, stupid. You can see his reaction to the offer of the accountant. In his eyes you can see he’s considering the offer.
Come on, I know you can.
One note I almost always get on my stuff is about one of the Golden Rules: don’t write anything in action description that doesn’t correspond directly to what the viewer will be seeing on screen.
Not a bad guideline, I agree, but definitely not an essential rule.
I think the rule came into being to help budding screenwriters remember that although the script is written on paper, it’s written for a visual medium. So always think of what it’s gonna look like and relay that. Of course. Absolutamente.
But I think two overriding guidelines are 1) we should enjoy the writing of the thing while making sure readers enjoy the reading of it, and 2) we should trust readers to do a little work themselves.
It’s difficult and lonely work, writing, so we need to have some fun doing it. I mean, come on, not all of us are getting rich off it. Give us something. Also,it’s boring to read a million screenplays as anyone in the business has to do, so readers should take some enjoyment out of it, too.
I’ve heard directors and actors complain about screenplays spelling things out too much for them, not allowing them to draw conclusions, make imaginative leaps, have a brain. You can in fact describe a physical condition without stating it too literally.
I mean think about it: when you’re watching a movie and there’s a bunch of clunky exposition, doesn’t it annoy you as a viewer? You’re sitting there rolling your eyes thinking, “Okay, thanks, I get it. Let’s move on.”
Same thing a reader thinks, I think, when everything is laid out too literally in a script.
I was reading the script for American Gangster recently. A couple of examples from it, courtesy of Steven Zaillian. The first regarding the fact that writers should have some fun writing and readers should enjoy the read:
Bumpy stops before a display of cameras and stares in. They’re all pointed at him as a pain grips his chest and he sinks to his knees. Frank kneels down.
FRANK
What is it?
Bumpy seems unable to speak, looks to Frank confused.
FRANK
Somebody call an ambulance!
But the store suddenly seems empty. Frank yells into the emporium but can’t be heard above the Muzak and the cash registers ringing up sales Bumpy will never see a piece of. Looking up at Frank, Bumpy manages weakly –
BUMPY
Forget it, Frank. No one’s in charge.
Nice, right? Now, you can’t exactly see “ the cash registers ringing up sales Bumpy will never see a piece of” but, as a reader, don’t you appreciate the artfulness of it? Isn’t it a better way of saying Bumpy’s about to die and his extortion days are over? And if you were Zaillian, wouldn’t you die of boredom and never write again if you couldn’t write like this?
Another example, a few pages later, regarding how description can actually be visual, without being too literally visual:
Richie lunges at him, hits him again with his injured hand - which hurts Richie more than it does Campizi. The paramedics manage to pull him away.
CAMPIZI
What can we do, Richie? You don’t want
to do this. For old times sake, what can
we do? Who do you want? Who can I give
you? You want Big Sal’s bookie? You want
his accountant? I’ll give him to you.
Richie regards him a moment. A policy ring’s accountant wouldn’t be bad. He glances back to the paramedic dabbing at his bloody hand, and notices she’s not bad-looking. She smiles back.
Two things there. Some people might call Zaillian out on “which hurts Richie more than it does Campizi” and on “A policy ring’s accountant wouldn’t be bad.”
But I submit that those actually do reflect something that can be seen. You just have to do a little work. And I mean a little work –- it’s not hard.
True, the first one doesn’t read, “Richie screams and cradles his hand while Campizi barely whimpers” but you can see how those two actors would react to that punch, can’t you?
And the second one, to be more literal, could be something stupid like, “Richie raises his eyebrows, smiles slightly and nods his head” but that would be, well, stupid. You can see his reaction to the offer of the accountant. In his eyes you can see he’s considering the offer.
Come on, I know you can.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
The Big Miss
After reading the first 15 pages or so of the action script I’m (admittedly not consistently) working on, my brother said one scene -– in which one of the main characters, the hit man, makes a protein shake and slugs it down -– vaguely reminded him of a movie he thought we saw together when he was living down here in Virginia -– an early Mark Wahlberg movie called The Big Hit. He said he wasn’t sure why, but when he read that scene he thought of that movie.
I didn’t remember seeing it, but his memory is pretty good, so I figured I probably did –- then I got worried that maybe I had subconsciously lifted a piece of it.
Or should I say, piece of shit.
I slid The Big Hit to the top of my Netflix queue and watched it as soon as it landed in the mailbox. I quickly recognized it –- yes I have seen this movie. And I wondered if I groaned as much the first time I watched it with little brother.
What a weak freaking movie. And frankly, I’m a big Mark Wahlberg fan –- I think he’s fantastic. But this thing: so tired and trite and not fun at all. Bad dialogue, thin characters, unimaginative plot, boring action scenes. Plus they gave ol’ Marky Mark a really shitty auburn dye job.
And don’t even get me started on Lou Diamond Phillips’s character. Or wardrobe.
I will say I liked this movie when it was called Grosse Pointe Blank -– which came out a year earlier. (I wonder if Cusack was mad about that. Actually, he probably just chuckled and toasted himself and his talent.)
Turns out my brother’s memory is flawed -– there were no protein shakes in it, though Wahlberg’s character does slug Maalox like it’s going out of style. Because he’s stressed being a hit man, working for bad people and juggling two women who don’t treat him right. Get it? So he ends up getting together with the cute Japanese teenager he begins the movie by kidnapping. (China Chow, who is adorable.) She’s okay with his being a hit man because it’ll be a “constant adrenaline rush” and she promises that in their relationship, unlike with those other girls, the love will be a two-way street.
It made me feel so much better about my script. Because my script is so much better. So far at least.
Of course… this movie actually got made and mine exists only as 30 pages of a MovieMagic Screenwriter file in my aging laptop. So put that in your pipe, David, and take a Big Hit.
The real question, I suppose is this: why does my brother hate me so much?
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Oops, She Did It First
I’ve been a little worried about the originality of the action script I’m working on. It involves a hit man and a deal gone bad -– not the most groundbreaking motifs for an action film, admittedly. In fact I just read that two of the buzz movies at Sundance had to do with hit men.
I haven’t seen a whole lot of hit man movies, so I loaded my Netflix queue with them, so I can make sure I don’t accidentally go where a bunch of people have already gone. The most frustrating kind of plagiarism is the accidental kind.
This was not a worry I had with The D Line. In that script, the driving dramatic moment that makes everything turn to shit is when a girl commits suicide by stepping in front of a train. The conductor later connects with the girl’s mother and they both struggle to make sense of all this. There’s more to it of course -– but the image of the girl’s suicide is what started me thinking about the story in the first place.
A couple years ago I was listening to a report on NPR about how long it takes to stop a train -– which, it’s no surprise, is a long time -– and I started thinking about what it must be like for a conductor to see that he’s about to hit something, from a long way off, and there’s nothing at all that he can do. Like if someone steps on the tracks and waits to be hit and killed. I just thought that was a great, powerful image that I’d never seen dealt with in a movie.
Then, last night, I started leafing through the January/February issue of Creative Screenwriting.
And I saw I’m not as much of a vanguard as I thought.
And I said, “Fuck.”
There’s a brief article about a screenwriter named Micky Levy and her first produced screenplay, Rails and Ties.
From the article:
“Around that time, Levy became fascinated by the American railroad system… attempted an action movie in which the climax involved a huge fight to gain control of the locomotive… she grew frustrated… a conductor agreed to meet her… he began talking about rail-related suicides… even when they see the victims, conductors often can’t stop the trains in time… she had found a better story… about a train tracks suicide and the effect it has on a conductor who forms a bond with the victim’s child.”
It’s directed by Allison Eastwood and stars Kevin Bacon and Marcia Gay Harden. Check it out:
Fuck, man.
I mean, like I said, there’s a lot of stuff in my script that’s not in this -– and a lot in this that’s not in my script… but is some agent gonna be like, “Oh shit, not another train suicide movie!”
Just goes to show you what we all know -– there are no original ideas.
So it’s all in the execution.
Let’s hope mine is as good as hers, ‘cause she got it made.
Micky Levy actually seems kinda cool, and is now working on a nonfiction film with Amy Berg. You go girl~~
I haven’t seen a whole lot of hit man movies, so I loaded my Netflix queue with them, so I can make sure I don’t accidentally go where a bunch of people have already gone. The most frustrating kind of plagiarism is the accidental kind.
This was not a worry I had with The D Line. In that script, the driving dramatic moment that makes everything turn to shit is when a girl commits suicide by stepping in front of a train. The conductor later connects with the girl’s mother and they both struggle to make sense of all this. There’s more to it of course -– but the image of the girl’s suicide is what started me thinking about the story in the first place.
A couple years ago I was listening to a report on NPR about how long it takes to stop a train -– which, it’s no surprise, is a long time -– and I started thinking about what it must be like for a conductor to see that he’s about to hit something, from a long way off, and there’s nothing at all that he can do. Like if someone steps on the tracks and waits to be hit and killed. I just thought that was a great, powerful image that I’d never seen dealt with in a movie.
Then, last night, I started leafing through the January/February issue of Creative Screenwriting.
And I saw I’m not as much of a vanguard as I thought.
And I said, “Fuck.”
There’s a brief article about a screenwriter named Micky Levy and her first produced screenplay, Rails and Ties.
From the article:
“Around that time, Levy became fascinated by the American railroad system… attempted an action movie in which the climax involved a huge fight to gain control of the locomotive… she grew frustrated… a conductor agreed to meet her… he began talking about rail-related suicides… even when they see the victims, conductors often can’t stop the trains in time… she had found a better story… about a train tracks suicide and the effect it has on a conductor who forms a bond with the victim’s child.”
It’s directed by Allison Eastwood and stars Kevin Bacon and Marcia Gay Harden. Check it out:
Fuck, man.
I mean, like I said, there’s a lot of stuff in my script that’s not in this -– and a lot in this that’s not in my script… but is some agent gonna be like, “Oh shit, not another train suicide movie!”
Just goes to show you what we all know -– there are no original ideas.
So it’s all in the execution.
Let’s hope mine is as good as hers, ‘cause she got it made.
Micky Levy actually seems kinda cool, and is now working on a nonfiction film with Amy Berg. You go girl~~
Friday, January 25, 2008
If I'm On Hold, I Might As Well Work
So the weekend came and went with no call from J.
Listen, everyone’s busy. Especially people in New York. Really especially people in the music industry in New York. So I’m not going to sweat it.
Maybe he calls, maybe he doesn’t. (I sound like a 12-year-old girl trying to be brave, don’t I?)
Maybe he handed the script off to the actor’s management, maybe he didn’t.
We’ll just sit back and see.
To tell you the truth, it’s not too bad if he didn’t hand it off yet. See, I’ve decided to make a few changes. Nothing too drastic, but I’ve just been talking to a few trusted readers, and I think it could use a wee tweaking.
I know, I know. You can’t tweak forever. Or rather you can tweak forever, and so you shouldn't. But these are pretty minor, and I know what to do, and I think they’ll make it even stronger with just a little more work.
So I’ll do a minor revision -- and do it soon, because I have a couple of other contacts standing by, graciously waiting to hand it off to some more Hollywooders, and I want to be ready to start showing it around once the strike ends.
And, to those of you who have it and are interested, I’ll track the changes, so if you want to check them out you won’t have to read the whole thing over again.
By the way, the work on the action script went pretty well in DC. I actually worked on it during a few breaks in the conference and for a couple hours each night. It was more adjusting the first act than moving past it, so I’m still only a little past 30 pages, but it’s feeling pretty good.
I never really send out preliminary pages -- doing so kinda freaks me out -- but I did send the first 17 pages of this one to a small circle of folks whom I trust and am PATIENTLY awaiting their FEEDBACK.
Hint, hint.
Mainly I was asking them if they think the general direction is solid. I know it’s messy and has some holes -- but these are BRIGHT PEOPLE who are SMART enough to see where I’m going and can TELL ME IF IT’S IN THE RIGHT NEIGHBORHOOD.
Hint, HINT.
Listen, everyone’s busy. Especially people in New York. Really especially people in the music industry in New York. So I’m not going to sweat it.
Maybe he calls, maybe he doesn’t. (I sound like a 12-year-old girl trying to be brave, don’t I?)
Maybe he handed the script off to the actor’s management, maybe he didn’t.
We’ll just sit back and see.
To tell you the truth, it’s not too bad if he didn’t hand it off yet. See, I’ve decided to make a few changes. Nothing too drastic, but I’ve just been talking to a few trusted readers, and I think it could use a wee tweaking.
I know, I know. You can’t tweak forever. Or rather you can tweak forever, and so you shouldn't. But these are pretty minor, and I know what to do, and I think they’ll make it even stronger with just a little more work.
So I’ll do a minor revision -- and do it soon, because I have a couple of other contacts standing by, graciously waiting to hand it off to some more Hollywooders, and I want to be ready to start showing it around once the strike ends.
And, to those of you who have it and are interested, I’ll track the changes, so if you want to check them out you won’t have to read the whole thing over again.
By the way, the work on the action script went pretty well in DC. I actually worked on it during a few breaks in the conference and for a couple hours each night. It was more adjusting the first act than moving past it, so I’m still only a little past 30 pages, but it’s feeling pretty good.
I never really send out preliminary pages -- doing so kinda freaks me out -- but I did send the first 17 pages of this one to a small circle of folks whom I trust and am PATIENTLY awaiting their FEEDBACK.
Hint, hint.
Mainly I was asking them if they think the general direction is solid. I know it’s messy and has some holes -- but these are BRIGHT PEOPLE who are SMART enough to see where I’m going and can TELL ME IF IT’S IN THE RIGHT NEIGHBORHOOD.
Hint, HINT.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Travels Of The Spec Script
So I got in touch with J (see a couple of posts ago for an explanation) and have an update on The D Line's travels.
Sorta.
Yes, he did receive the script. Yes, he read the script. Yes, he enjoyed the script. Yes, he wants to talk about the script, and he's calling this weekend to do so.
I didn't ask if he handed it off to the actor's management, and he didn't bring it up, but I'll ask this weekend.
So the update is... no real update.
But maybe after this weekend.
As for the action script, I'm about 30 pages in. I have to go to a three-day conference for work in DC next week, so that's two nights in a hotel room alone.
Hopefully I'll cowboy up and actually spend some good time writing while I have it.
Come on David -- you can do it!
Sorta.
Yes, he did receive the script. Yes, he read the script. Yes, he enjoyed the script. Yes, he wants to talk about the script, and he's calling this weekend to do so.
I didn't ask if he handed it off to the actor's management, and he didn't bring it up, but I'll ask this weekend.
So the update is... no real update.
But maybe after this weekend.
As for the action script, I'm about 30 pages in. I have to go to a three-day conference for work in DC next week, so that's two nights in a hotel room alone.
Hopefully I'll cowboy up and actually spend some good time writing while I have it.
Come on David -- you can do it!
Friday, January 11, 2008
If you are in need of reassurance that there is true beauty in the world beyond the type pimped by Vogue, that there is such a thing as soul in a country that created smooth jazz, that there are reasons to smile even when no one is paying you or giving you 20% off –- and if you’re wondering if kids can be born with a deep wisdom before we teach them a thing –- look into the eyes of this little girl.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Holy Hibernation
Fell asleep there for a few weeks...
What's awakened me is the realization that loglines suck.
And I say that mainly because I suck at writing them.
Or one for The D Line anyway.
It’d be easier if this screenplay weren’t a thinky ensemble period piece in a non-standard structure. Or so I’m telling myself.
But hell, don’t you think it’d be easier to write a logline for Spiderman than for Magnolia?
But I’m gonna do it, dammit! Just try and stop me!
Actually, my wife and one of the other bloggers ‘round here both picked the same one from the batch I sent them, and they’re both smart, so I think I’ll go with that.
In other D Line news:
I submitted to BlueCat and will to Scriptapalooza soon.
And, a funny thing.
I wrote The D Line with a certain actor in mind to play the lead. He started out as a music artist and made the jump to movies (though his records are still great), and I’m a huuuge fan of both his music and his acting. From the very beginning of this process, I had him in mind to lead. It helps, I think, if you can picture people as you write characters. Even if you're casting pipe dreams.
The manager of a friend of mine suggested another actor –- an amazing actor who could pull it off without question, but in terms of my initial intention, it was this guy. Not that I'd stop said manager from sending the script to the other guy, mind you.
Anyway, a few weeks ago, we were at my wife’s high school reunion and we met a guy she knew in high school, we’ll call him J. Cool guy, good to talk with, good energy. The kind of guy you meet at a high school reunion and you’re not desperately thinking up excuses to slink away –- “Uh, gotta get me in on that Macarena, looks hot!” I met a couple of those guys, by the way, but this guy I liked.
When we got to the so-what-are-you-doing-now bit, he mentioned he worked for a record company in New York. And it just happens to be the record label of the aforementioned wish-lead for The D Line.
“Really? You know, interestingly, I wrote this script…”
Turns out J is into movies, has worked as a music supervisor, and oh, happens to work in the same offices as the music management team of the guy I wrote the goddamn script for. J agrees to read the script and then hand it over to them.
Now, this is certainly nothing to get worked up about. I mean, maybe J will be too busy to read it, or maybe he won’t like it and won’t want to hand it off, or maybe the music managers will be like, “The fuck’s this? We don’t do movies.”
But still, it’s cool. So maybe, just maybe, the script is a few steps away from its intended star.
Or maybe it’s in the trash can.
Hopefully at least the recycle bin. Let's think of the earth, people.
What's awakened me is the realization that loglines suck.
And I say that mainly because I suck at writing them.
Or one for The D Line anyway.
It’d be easier if this screenplay weren’t a thinky ensemble period piece in a non-standard structure. Or so I’m telling myself.
But hell, don’t you think it’d be easier to write a logline for Spiderman than for Magnolia?
But I’m gonna do it, dammit! Just try and stop me!
Actually, my wife and one of the other bloggers ‘round here both picked the same one from the batch I sent them, and they’re both smart, so I think I’ll go with that.
In other D Line news:
I submitted to BlueCat and will to Scriptapalooza soon.
And, a funny thing.
I wrote The D Line with a certain actor in mind to play the lead. He started out as a music artist and made the jump to movies (though his records are still great), and I’m a huuuge fan of both his music and his acting. From the very beginning of this process, I had him in mind to lead. It helps, I think, if you can picture people as you write characters. Even if you're casting pipe dreams.
The manager of a friend of mine suggested another actor –- an amazing actor who could pull it off without question, but in terms of my initial intention, it was this guy. Not that I'd stop said manager from sending the script to the other guy, mind you.
Anyway, a few weeks ago, we were at my wife’s high school reunion and we met a guy she knew in high school, we’ll call him J. Cool guy, good to talk with, good energy. The kind of guy you meet at a high school reunion and you’re not desperately thinking up excuses to slink away –- “Uh, gotta get me in on that Macarena, looks hot!” I met a couple of those guys, by the way, but this guy I liked.
When we got to the so-what-are-you-doing-now bit, he mentioned he worked for a record company in New York. And it just happens to be the record label of the aforementioned wish-lead for The D Line.
“Really? You know, interestingly, I wrote this script…”
Turns out J is into movies, has worked as a music supervisor, and oh, happens to work in the same offices as the music management team of the guy I wrote the goddamn script for. J agrees to read the script and then hand it over to them.
Now, this is certainly nothing to get worked up about. I mean, maybe J will be too busy to read it, or maybe he won’t like it and won’t want to hand it off, or maybe the music managers will be like, “The fuck’s this? We don’t do movies.”
But still, it’s cool. So maybe, just maybe, the script is a few steps away from its intended star.
Or maybe it’s in the trash can.
Hopefully at least the recycle bin. Let's think of the earth, people.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
I Think This Is My Favorite One
But they're almost all great.
I trust you all are watching these, and reading UnitedHollywood, and keeping the faith.
It's important.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Details, Details, Details
The Gimp asked about deliverables, and maybe other indy filmmakers might have the same question, so here’s the quick rundown.
Deliverables are basically your last hurdle as a producer. And they’re a big’un.
They’re the final stuff you need to deliver to the distributor to make everything all legal-like and to allow for the physical production of film prints, DVDs, artwork, marketing, etc.
Film companies have big staffs (heh, heh, he said big staff) that do nothing but create, compile and deliver deliverables, but you as an independent producer have to buckle down and do it yourself.
And it sucks.
Here’s some of the stuff you have to give them, excerpted from our agreement:
.40 production still photos on a CD or 35mm color slides
·Still and likeness approvals
·Full credit crawl
·List of names and/or likenesses that must appear in art
·List of names that must appear above title
·Approved billing block
·All logos which are required to appear on the art
·Synopsis
·D5 High Def 24p tape of the feature with eight audio track assignments
·Downconverted digital masters both NTSC and PAL
·NTSC DVcam and Digi-Beta tapes of the feature with Dialog and Effects only
·CD of the licensed music, with the songs in their entirety.
·20-30 DVD screeners, with continuous visible time code over picture
·Feature and Trailer Continuity Dialogue List
·Music Cue Sheet, Composer Agreement and all Music Licenses
·Screenplay and Motion Picture Copyright Certificates
·Certificates of Origin – 10 original documents notarized
·E&O Insurance Certificate
·Copyright Report
·Press Kit (consisting of press clippings, advertising materials, actor, director, producer bios, etc.)
Sounds fun, doesn’t it? And there's more where that came from...
Mmm. Sure is fun.
Deliverables are basically your last hurdle as a producer. And they’re a big’un.
They’re the final stuff you need to deliver to the distributor to make everything all legal-like and to allow for the physical production of film prints, DVDs, artwork, marketing, etc.
Film companies have big staffs (heh, heh, he said big staff) that do nothing but create, compile and deliver deliverables, but you as an independent producer have to buckle down and do it yourself.
And it sucks.
Here’s some of the stuff you have to give them, excerpted from our agreement:
.40 production still photos on a CD or 35mm color slides
·Still and likeness approvals
·Full credit crawl
·List of names and/or likenesses that must appear in art
·List of names that must appear above title
·Approved billing block
·All logos which are required to appear on the art
·Synopsis
·D5 High Def 24p tape of the feature with eight audio track assignments
·Downconverted digital masters both NTSC and PAL
·NTSC DVcam and Digi-Beta tapes of the feature with Dialog and Effects only
·CD of the licensed music, with the songs in their entirety.
·20-30 DVD screeners, with continuous visible time code over picture
·Feature and Trailer Continuity Dialogue List
·Music Cue Sheet, Composer Agreement and all Music Licenses
·Screenplay and Motion Picture Copyright Certificates
·Certificates of Origin – 10 original documents notarized
·E&O Insurance Certificate
·Copyright Report
·Press Kit (consisting of press clippings, advertising materials, actor, director, producer bios, etc.)
Sounds fun, doesn’t it? And there's more where that came from...
Mmm. Sure is fun.
Friday, November 30, 2007
And The Strike Slogs On
I haven’t really done any writing since the strike started.
I’d like to say it’s in solidarity with the WGA. And maybe it is, subconsciously. But it could also be that I’ve been lazy.
I’m totally behind the WGA though, so I am in solidarity with them, actually. In fact, I’d like to hear someone really explain why the writers should not get these very reasonable shares in profits. Explain it to me, with a straight face, and swear on your mama that you believe it in your heart, and I’ll buy you a Camaro.
You deserve a Camaro.
So, since I’m not working on the action script, what else can I tell you?
Um, my dad hasn’t hit any more deer.
Thanksgiving was good -– had the turkey in the smoker all damn day and man was it tasty.
Oh, we’re just about wrapped up in the distribution deal for Dismal. Now comes the pain in the ass that is deliverables. Great. Can't wait.
And at work, we’re shipping the rough cut of our new pilot to History Channel tomorrow for Monday delivery. It’s really good -– I hope they like it.
‘Cause I’d like to keep receiving a paycheck.
And now that I’m comfortable with it, I’m compiling a list of Industry Contacts to send The D Line to. Will likely do that after the strike ends, so as not to appear a scab.
I'm no scab.
And hey, you indy filmmakers out there, Moby is offering free music for use in non-commercial films and shorts. Check out: http://www.mobygratis.com/film-music.html
I’d like to say it’s in solidarity with the WGA. And maybe it is, subconsciously. But it could also be that I’ve been lazy.
I’m totally behind the WGA though, so I am in solidarity with them, actually. In fact, I’d like to hear someone really explain why the writers should not get these very reasonable shares in profits. Explain it to me, with a straight face, and swear on your mama that you believe it in your heart, and I’ll buy you a Camaro.
You deserve a Camaro.
So, since I’m not working on the action script, what else can I tell you?
Um, my dad hasn’t hit any more deer.
Thanksgiving was good -– had the turkey in the smoker all damn day and man was it tasty.
Oh, we’re just about wrapped up in the distribution deal for Dismal. Now comes the pain in the ass that is deliverables. Great. Can't wait.
And at work, we’re shipping the rough cut of our new pilot to History Channel tomorrow for Monday delivery. It’s really good -– I hope they like it.
‘Cause I’d like to keep receiving a paycheck.
And now that I’m comfortable with it, I’m compiling a list of Industry Contacts to send The D Line to. Will likely do that after the strike ends, so as not to appear a scab.
I'm no scab.
And hey, you indy filmmakers out there, Moby is offering free music for use in non-commercial films and shorts. Check out: http://www.mobygratis.com/film-music.html
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
El Jefe
Saw Springsteen Sunday night in DC.
Holy shit.
What a storyteller. I mean, yes, obviously, he can write great lyrics and tell stories that way. But he’s also a master at using the songs to weave a larger tale.
His song choice, the way he arranges, reinvents and plays them live, his pacing, knowing when to be serious with a subtext-laden blues, when to just have fun with balls-out guitar rock, how to make 30,000 people laugh or scream or cheer all at once –- everything comes together in one great story you can’t put down.
Throughout the night he threw some lovely jabs at the Bush administration and the way they’re pretty much fucking up everything they touch. Then when he played "The Promised Land," dedicating it to a young soldier sitting in a wheelchair stage left… it totally changed the meaning of the song compared to what it meant to me when I was a kid.
I won’t go into a song-by-song breakdown. I could, but I won't. But listen. Even if you don’t love Springsteen’s music, you should go see him on this tour. You will not be disappointed.
And if you’re like me (the first album I ever bought was Born To Run, purchased at Cap’n Bullfrogs in downtown Brattleboro, Vermont when I was 10 years old -– and I’ve been a constant fan since) you must go see him on this tour.
The six-song encore was worth the price of admission itself: six back-to-back, knock-down, drag-out, rollicking songs that just blistered from beginning to end: "Girls in their Summer Clothes," "Growin' Up," "Kitty's Back," "Born to Run," "Dancing in the Dark" and "American Land."
Whew. I’m still exhausted from it.
Actually, come to think of it, that "Kitty’s Back" alone was worth the admission price.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Deer, Old Dad
I like to take note of little events in real life which, if I saw in a movie, would usually make me chuckle and think, That wouldn’t really happen…
Because these things do happen. Greg and Emily post about them all the time.
And they’re good to keep in mind, as a writer.
Like the other day when my dad hit a deer.
I grew up in Vermont and my parents, my sister and her family and my little brother and his family still live there. There are a lot of deer in Vermont. And they haven’t quite figured out the whole moving vehicle thing yet, as a species.
My mom is down here with us this week and so my dad, being a man, decided to go over to my brother’s house for dinner, I’m guessing largely so that he wouldn’t have to thaw out another frozen meal my mom no doubt stocked the freezer with. So much work to thaw after all.
So he’s flying up County Road –- yes it’s called that –- in his pickup in the darkness of a countryside evening (sounds like a Garth Brooks song, don’t it?) and a deer bursts from the side of the road and he slams into it.
Now this can be very dangerous. Not as dangerous as moose, but dangerous. Moose, man, those things kill people all the time. They’re super tall, with skinny legs and they’re wicked heavy –- so if you hit them, their little legs snap and their huge body crashes through your windshield... and you’re dead.
This happened to the father of one of my mom’s students a couple years ago. It happens a lot.
Deer can screw you up too, if they come through the windshield -- and even if they don’t they can cause a wreck that can screw you up.
Sorry, one more aside, then back to the story. In high school up there I worked in a car wash. Worst. Job. Ever. Washing cars in Vermont in the winter, when car washes in Vermont are busiest because people wanna get all the road salt off their cars. My clothes would literally freeze.
Holy shit, these tangents are killing me. But what I was saying about the car wash is that a lot of people had these deer whistles attached to their side mirrors. They were designed to blow a high pitch whistle when the car was moving and there was air flowing through them, the thought being the whistle would ward off deer.
Two things: I bet it didn’t work, and they almost never survived the trip through the car wash anyway. God knows how many of those damn things I cleaned up from the bay while smoking pot with my best friend Jim during breaks.
(Maybe not the worst job ever, come to think of it…)
Back to my dad.
So he hits the deer on the passenger front side -– big bam, scared old man, much more scared deer. Dad stops, the deer’s gone.
Exhale. Continue drive up County Road to Patrick’s house.
There, he checks his truck, sees lots of damage, grabs Patrick and goes back to see if the deer is there, see if they can help it.
Aren’t they sweet?
No sign of the deer, so Dad calls the State Police, as you’re supposed to do. This is where, to me, it gets funny.
The dispatcher takes Dad’s info, then says she’ll report it to animal control. She then asks, “If we find the deer and it’s freshly dead, do you want us to bring it to you?”
So: kill a deer with your car in Vermont… get meat for the winter!
Dad declined, by the way.
Okay, it probably wasn’t worth all that reading of meandering prose, but it does tell me that suspension of disbelief needn’t be that difficult. The world’s a funny place…
Because these things do happen. Greg and Emily post about them all the time.
And they’re good to keep in mind, as a writer.
Like the other day when my dad hit a deer.
I grew up in Vermont and my parents, my sister and her family and my little brother and his family still live there. There are a lot of deer in Vermont. And they haven’t quite figured out the whole moving vehicle thing yet, as a species.
My mom is down here with us this week and so my dad, being a man, decided to go over to my brother’s house for dinner, I’m guessing largely so that he wouldn’t have to thaw out another frozen meal my mom no doubt stocked the freezer with. So much work to thaw after all.
So he’s flying up County Road –- yes it’s called that –- in his pickup in the darkness of a countryside evening (sounds like a Garth Brooks song, don’t it?) and a deer bursts from the side of the road and he slams into it.
Now this can be very dangerous. Not as dangerous as moose, but dangerous. Moose, man, those things kill people all the time. They’re super tall, with skinny legs and they’re wicked heavy –- so if you hit them, their little legs snap and their huge body crashes through your windshield... and you’re dead.
This happened to the father of one of my mom’s students a couple years ago. It happens a lot.
Deer can screw you up too, if they come through the windshield -- and even if they don’t they can cause a wreck that can screw you up.
Sorry, one more aside, then back to the story. In high school up there I worked in a car wash. Worst. Job. Ever. Washing cars in Vermont in the winter, when car washes in Vermont are busiest because people wanna get all the road salt off their cars. My clothes would literally freeze.
Holy shit, these tangents are killing me. But what I was saying about the car wash is that a lot of people had these deer whistles attached to their side mirrors. They were designed to blow a high pitch whistle when the car was moving and there was air flowing through them, the thought being the whistle would ward off deer.
Two things: I bet it didn’t work, and they almost never survived the trip through the car wash anyway. God knows how many of those damn things I cleaned up from the bay while smoking pot with my best friend Jim during breaks.
(Maybe not the worst job ever, come to think of it…)
Back to my dad.
So he hits the deer on the passenger front side -– big bam, scared old man, much more scared deer. Dad stops, the deer’s gone.
Exhale. Continue drive up County Road to Patrick’s house.
There, he checks his truck, sees lots of damage, grabs Patrick and goes back to see if the deer is there, see if they can help it.
Aren’t they sweet?
No sign of the deer, so Dad calls the State Police, as you’re supposed to do. This is where, to me, it gets funny.
The dispatcher takes Dad’s info, then says she’ll report it to animal control. She then asks, “If we find the deer and it’s freshly dead, do you want us to bring it to you?”
So: kill a deer with your car in Vermont… get meat for the winter!
Dad declined, by the way.
Okay, it probably wasn’t worth all that reading of meandering prose, but it does tell me that suspension of disbelief needn’t be that difficult. The world’s a funny place…
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Getting Closer
Quick update on Dismal.
Our attorney, working with EP Jeff, has decided which of the five distribution offers is the best, and they’re calling that company today.
We did some negotiating with that company before the entertainment lawyer stepped in –- having a brain and a bit of experience, it was easy to spot the crappy portions in the deal, and the distributor struck those down quickly upon request. So I think we’ve already negotiated it to as good a deal as we can expect, and I’m hoping the paperwork will happen quickly so they can start selling this thing. It should go fast -– our attorney is an LA guy with plenty of clients way bigger than us so they shouldn’t screw around with him much.
So… hopefully you’ll be able to buy, rent, on-demand and otherwise watch it soon.
And, to you true indies out there, take this simple piece of advice: don’t sign the first distribution deal you get, no matter how excited you are. The first draft of any deal offered is not going to be in your best interest -– that’s a simple fact. The distribution company will always try to make the terms best for them at first -– that way if you sign it, they make out better. I can't even fault them for that. But there’s always room for negotiating.
Do a little homework, talk to some people who have struck out on the path before you, then respectfully point out where you’d be screwed. If they like the product, and if you’re not asking for ridiculous stuff yourself, they’ll compromise. They all did with us.
Our attorney, working with EP Jeff, has decided which of the five distribution offers is the best, and they’re calling that company today.
We did some negotiating with that company before the entertainment lawyer stepped in –- having a brain and a bit of experience, it was easy to spot the crappy portions in the deal, and the distributor struck those down quickly upon request. So I think we’ve already negotiated it to as good a deal as we can expect, and I’m hoping the paperwork will happen quickly so they can start selling this thing. It should go fast -– our attorney is an LA guy with plenty of clients way bigger than us so they shouldn’t screw around with him much.
So… hopefully you’ll be able to buy, rent, on-demand and otherwise watch it soon.
And, to you true indies out there, take this simple piece of advice: don’t sign the first distribution deal you get, no matter how excited you are. The first draft of any deal offered is not going to be in your best interest -– that’s a simple fact. The distribution company will always try to make the terms best for them at first -– that way if you sign it, they make out better. I can't even fault them for that. But there’s always room for negotiating.
Do a little homework, talk to some people who have struck out on the path before you, then respectfully point out where you’d be screwed. If they like the product, and if you’re not asking for ridiculous stuff yourself, they’ll compromise. They all did with us.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
Thanks Jehovah
Ohhhhh. So that's what they meant. All suffering soon to end.
The Red Sox won -- and I had my laptop with me, you know, on my lap, while I watched the game.
So my Sox stay alive and I also did some writing. Not a whole lot of writing, mind you, but some writing.
Whew. On both fronts.
The Red Sox won -- and I had my laptop with me, you know, on my lap, while I watched the game.
So my Sox stay alive and I also did some writing. Not a whole lot of writing, mind you, but some writing.
Whew. On both fronts.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
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