Doug McGrath on How I Got My Agent
I got my first agent through my lawyer.
I had written a play which he had read and liked and offered to give it to her. She liked it, took me on, never did a single thing and eventually I fired her. (Soon all your readers will be writing in, "How do I get my next agent?")
I had a lawyer already because, in a freak hiring, I had been given a job right out of college at Saturday Night Live and needed someone to review the contract.
It seems like the short answer inevitably has to be contacts. I don’t know anyone who got an agent by just picking a name out of a book and submitting.
Douglas McGrath wrote and directed NICHOLAS NICKLEBY, COMPANY MAN and EMMA. He also wrote BORN YESTERDAY and BULLETS OVER BROADWAY, for which he was nominated for an Academy Award.
Articles
July 2nd, 2005 at 10:54 am
I am writing to request the office address of Douglas McGrath. I would like to contact him about an interesting screen play that might intrique him.
Thank you.
Dr. Noah H. Kersey
February 9th, 2006 at 8:03 pm
I’d love a contact address for Douglas McGrath just to tell him I think he’s wonderful. I’m Googling for info on him and coming up scantily short. How did this fellow miss a ton of info about him? He’s terrific!
March 5th, 2007 at 10:18 pm
I’m interested in adapting Company Man as a musical. How might I go about obtaining permission?
June 15th, 2007 at 7:26 am
I have written a screen adaptation of Charles Dickens’ underappreciated book “DOMBEY AND SON”. I thought I’s give it a shot - and ask how can I get Mr. McGrath to read the first 10 pages. The whole script has been read by the actor/director Simon Callow and Michael Waring, former property agent for the BBC; both championed it briefly.
August 5th, 2007 at 9:53 pm
Dear Mr. August,
Garson Kanin’s TRACY AND HEPBURN and Scott Berg’s REMEMBERING KATE both found space to praise the play writing of Richard Hepburn, Kate’s brother. A Google search yielded almost nothing, not even a title. Letters to Katherine Houghton (the niece), Schuyler Grant (the grand-niece), Scott Berg, and John Logan (screenwriter for The Aviator) have all been ignored. Can you (or anyone out there in the blogosphere) provide any information. Those plays should be located.
March 6th, 2008 at 5:24 am
I just wanted to leave my comments regarding “Infamous.” Mr. McGrath probably doesn’t need the support of a sometimes film Professor, but I just wanted to write to tell him the critics are all wrong. “Infamous” had the misfortune of being the second film regarding the same subject to be released in a year, and couldn’t even title itself with Capote’s name, but it is by far the better of the two. If it had come out first, or if critics had gone back to watch “Capote” again, they would have realized it. I was one of the many admirers of “Capote” and, like everyone else, when I watched “Infamous,” the second inevitably was compared to the first. At first it compared unfavorably; I found the lead performance a little twitchy and found myself missing Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s more subtle approach. And I wanted the story to move more quickly to Kansas. That’s the trouble with comparisons. You really want it to be identical. But of course, if you want the same experience again, the obvious answer is to watch the same film again. Why make the same film twice? But as the story pulled me in, I began to realize that “Infamous” was the better of the two. How did I reach such a startling conclusion after admiring the first so much? Because looking back, I realized there was very little of the first I remembered, very little that stuck with me. And I knew there was much in this film that I would remember for a very long time. I had had the same experience before. “Platoon” had more of an impact on me in the theater, but it was “Full Metal Jacket” that I found myself dwelling on later. And I think that’s how a film earns the title of being a classic. It’s difficult to tell when it first comes out. But ten years later, only a few films stay in our memories or, if you will, in our hearts. “Infamous,” I fear, will not earn that status simply because it’s in the shadow of its predecessor. I went back and looked at “Capote” again. It was all there. But the scenes had more meaning now, not because of the brilliance of the first film, but because they referenced events I now understood from the second. It was the second that portrayed the events, and the man, in depth. The subject itself was compelling and perhaps drove both films, but the undeserved praise heaped on “Capote” had more to do with the subject itself, whereas “Infamous” gave the insight the subject deserved and demanded. Capote has always been a curious figure in the American landscape, only now can I say I have some understanding of him. I could not yet say that after seeing “Capote.” The critics are saying “Capote” was more “intellectual,” “Infamous” more emotional. The only basis I can see for this is that “Infamous” is definitely a compelling film that delves deeply into its subject, wheras “Capote” only references the key moments — leaving the viewer to unravel the signifgance of it as an intellectual exercise. But while there’s something to be said for intellectual involvement, when it’s merely the result of the work offering facts rather than insights, the work does not deserve the praise, only the subject itself. Perhaps a metaphor would help, and an obvious one presents itself. If “Infamous” is “In Cold Blood,” then “Capote” is what “In Cold Blood” would have been if Capote had accepted Perry Smith’s refusal to talk, presenting a portrait based on facts rather than true understanding, leaving it to the reader to figure it out from the information presented. From the commentary track we learn the lengths the director and actor went to in an effort to understasnd the subject, and it shows. They effectively share their insight with the audience. In “Capote” I watched Truman Capote. He was an interesting curiosity. In “Infamous” I lived the experiences and came to know Truman Capote — and saw a lot of myself in him. Isn’t that what movies should do? As for the performances, I could fall back on that old Cliche that one imitated Capote while the other “became” Capote, but I saw something even more interesting. As I said earlier, I found Toby Jones’ performance too “twitchy” at first. The Truman Capote I remembered was more reserved (don’t laugh, let me explain!) His gestures were slow, deliberate, thoughtful, and I always took it to be the self-assured manner of a man who, though hardly a dominating figure, was quietly confident in his own superiority where he felt it mattered most. In Jones’s performance I saw somethiong more. The “twitchiness” I saw was only at the beginning and soon began to fade. By the end of the film, he was the more reserved Truman Capote with whom I was familiar. And this gave me insight as well. The “twitchiness” was the energy of a man who was supremely confident and loves everything about life. Perhaps it also reflected an eagerness to be loved. The later reserve revealed a sadness, a man who had seen too much, and perhaps learned a little too much about himself. And maybe he came to doubt if he deserved to be loved. I did not feel compelled to write about the experience after I saw “Capote.” But this film haunts me. It may never get the acclaim it deserves, but I wanted to send along this note saying that at least one viewer recognizes it for the extraordinary work it is. And if I ever get to teach the course in comparative filmmaking that I want to, I will show “Infamous” first and “Capote” second. I think the results will prove interesting.