Writing while at a studio
I work at a major studio in town as an assistant. But the joke is that whatever I write is owned by the studio. It kind of freaked me out today and although I know you’re no lawyer, is that just something people say jokingly?
I could understand if I use a work computer, but does that mean even when I’m at home? Should writers not take assistant jobs at studios?
– Chris
Sherman Oaks, CA
Screenwriters have always been assistants, because studios are a great place to learn about the realities of the industry. And in the fifteen years I’ve been working, I’ve never heard of a situation where the studio claimed legal right to a screenplay an assistant had written.
Not saying it’s impossible, but it doesn’t happen as a matter of standard practice.
You’re right to use your own computer and your own time — and that would hold true even if you worked at a Chevy dealer. If the studio has you sign a document establishing that anything you write belongs to them, well, take that seriously. Consider looking for a different job.
In most cases, what’s more important than the legalities are the formalities. If you’ve written some scripts and are in the process of looking for an agent or manager, it’s custom to talk about it with your boss and let her read something if she asks to. Don’t use her contacts as your contacts; your networking should be with other assistants.
You’re looking to preserve a relationship, both with your boss and the studio. Be respectful, even deferential, and you’re unlikely to run into any problems.
Directors Close-up
I’ll be moderating two panels for Film Independent this February at The Landmark in West LA.
February 3rd
The Creative Collaboration – Moderator John August and panelists Jason Reitman (Up in the Air), editor Dana Glauberman, cinematographer Eric Steelberg and other members of the creative team will spend an evening exploring the collaborative process that takes a film from script to screen, including: research, production design, lighting, camera placement, and more.
February 10th
Sound Design – Moderator John August will converse with directors and sound designers about creating a powerful film soundtrack, from sound effects and location sound to the final mix. Panelists to be announced.1
The panels are part of a month-long series that include discussions about acting, casting and comedy. Passes for the whole thing are available online.
- I know who they’re trying to get, and if happens, I will do a Snoopy dance. ↩
Why the Netflix/WB deal isn’t a bad thing
This afternoon, Netflix announced that it wouldn’t be shipping new releases from Warner Bros. until 28 days after street date. In exchange for this window, WB is giving better prices and — most crucially — deeper access to its library for Netflix’s streaming service.
The deal makes sense for Warners. Most DVDs are sold in the first month after release, so if they can turn rentals into sales, they come out ahead.
The deal makes sense for Netflix, too. They’re lowering one of their primary costs and getting more content for their Watch Instantly service. To their credit, they understand that the business of mailing DVDs will end. The future is streaming, and they’re increasingly well-positioned.
If you’re a Netflix subscriber who mostly watches new releases, this deal sucks.
Netflix will probably lose some customers in the near term, particularly as other studios cut similar deals. But they may gain more customers with a better streaming library. Netflix has a strange relationship with subscribers: they want to keep them happy but not too happy, since shipping each disc costs real money. My hunch is that the company has crunched the numbers and discovered that the folks who mostly rent new releases end up costing more to support.
If you’re a writer with a movie on home video, this is probably a good deal. You make residuals on DVD sales and streaming, not subscription rentals.
When Netflix ships a disc of Corpse Bride, I get nothing. When Netflix ships those bits over the internet, Warners gets paid, and I get a few cents. That’s good.
It’s all a bunch of piles
As an add-on to my earlier post, Bart Smith points me to an article on The Wrap about how nomination votes are tallied.
I found it very straightforward until the “surplus rule”:
In this case, “Up in the Air” and “Avatar” have significantly more votes than the 501 they need to be nominated, and more than the 601 (501 plus 20 percent) they need to trigger the surplus rule. “Up in the Air” has twice as many votes as it needs, and “Avatar” has 50 percent more.
So those two films get their nominations, but their ballots aren’t taken off the table. Instead, they’re all redistributed into the piles of the films listed second — where they count not as a full vote, but as whatever fraction of the vote wasn’t needed. A sliding scale determines exactly what percentage is used.
The “Up in the Air” ballots, for instance, will count as half a vote, because that film only needed half of each of its 1,002 votes to reach the magic number of 501. “Avatar” needed two-thirds of its 771 votes to reach the threshold, so its redistributed votes will count as one-third – i.e., the unneeded portion of each vote.
Each voter will still only get a single vote – but in this case, that single vote will be split between two different films.
It ultimately makes sense, but it very much feels like a system devised by accountants.
How nominations work
This is my first year as an Academy member, and my first year voting for awards. As a member of the Writers branch, I’ll be casting ballots for Original Screenplay, Adapted Screenplay and Best Picture.
Since it’s all new to me, I thought I’d walk readers through the process.
A few weeks ago, I got a printed Reminder List — a catalog listing all the films eligible for Best Picture. It’s from this list that I have to pick and rank my top ten films. I’ll hand-write the titles on a form that goes in a green envelope, which must be received by the accounting firm of PricewaterhouseCoopers LLP by 5 p.m. January 23, 2010.
Nominating ten films for Best Picture is a change from previous years, in which there were only five nominations.1 But the system of ranking your choices dates back to 1936. It’s a form of preferential voting designed to more accurately reflect the will of voters.
But man, it’s complicated. It’s easier to explain what it’s not.
It’s not a weighted ballot. You might think that your top pick gets 10 points, while your second pick gets nine points, etc. It’s not that. In fact…
You’re really only voting for one title. Your ballot will only be counted towards one film. That film will be the one you ranked first, unless your number one pick has the smallest number of votes and is thus out of the running. In that case, they count your second pick. If needed, they’ll continue on to your third, fourth or later picks until your ballot is cast for exactly one picture.2
It’s not “wasting your vote” to rank your number-one pick first. You might think your favorite movie is a longshot for a nomination, but that film could get enough second- or third-place votes to put it in the top 10. And if it doesn’t, your vote will go to your next-highest choice. But the rules state that a picture can’t be nominated without at least one number-one vote.
A full ballot doesn’t hurt your top picks. In WGA board elections, I’m always mindful that casting a vote for a candidate I half-heartedly support might knock out the candidates I truly want. So I’ll often cast a short ballot with just my top choices. For Academy Award nominations, that’s not a factor. While it’s unlikely that my tenth-ranked choice would benefit from my vote, it doesn’t hurt to include it.
This year, in a change from previous years, the final voting for Best Picture will also use preferential voting. Instead of picking one film, voters will rank the ten nominees in order.
At the new members reception, Academy leaders stressed the importance of seeing all ten nominees. I’m mostly caught up, but I’ll be sure to watch any ones I’ve missed before final voting.
Nominations for the two writing categories work basically the same as Best Picture. We’re given a list of eligible screenplays, and a form upon which to rank our choices in each category. Only screenwriters vote for the writing awards.
- But there’s certainly historical precedent: in 1934, there were 12 nominees. Widening the field has been controversial, but I’m inclined to wait and see how it turns out. ↩
- You could presumably pick ten movies that no one else does. That’s one challenge of such a wide-open field of choices. ↩
On 2010
I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions. No matter how well-intentioned, they never last. That initial burst of enthusiasm (“I’ll write one hour first thing in the morning!”) morphs into a sinkhole of counter-productive resentment (“I didn’t write this morning, and I’m a terrible person.”)
So for the past few years, I’ve been aiming more towards “areas of interest” rather than true resolutions. That way, there’s no promise to be broken.
For 2009, two of my publicly-professed areas of interest were:
- Trying more Austrian white wines
- Finding a nemesis
Some background is obviously in order.
Austrian white wines seemed like just the right level of achievable affectation. They’re neither rare nor ubiquitous. You’ll find one or two reasonably-priced bottles on many restaurant’s wine lists. And it’s extremely low-risk: the worst Austrian white wine I’ve had is pretty damn good.
While I didn’t become an instant expert in Austrian whites this year — I didn’t Tim Ferriss it — I consider the experiment a strong success. I drank good wine and became pals with the Grüner Veltliner grape. Ask a sommelier about Austrian whites and he lights up, happy to talk about something new.
The nemesis idea never really took off.
It all sprang from a basic realization: I’m competitive. Some of my most productive periods have come when I’ve actively compared myself to someone else — and if it was someone I disliked, all the better. I saw a nemesis as a way to harness my negative emotions in the service of getting stuff done.
But I could never think of a good nemesis. It’s a tricky combination: You need to both respect and despise the person simultaneously. There are many filmmaker-types I respect, but they’re all genuinely good people. There are a handful of filmmakers I despise, but I don’t respect them enough to care what they’re doing.
I needed an evil J.J. Abrams, but I never found one.
In thinking about my areas of interest for 2010, I’m taking my cues from last year: pursuing things that make me happy (wine) and avoiding things that don’t. Again, these aren’t resolutions in the classic sense, but rather statements of philosophy — ideas I want to pursue more strongly in the year ahead.
Auf Wiedersehen, Schadenfreude
You know who I’m rooting for in 2010? Everyone.
I’m rooting for Spider-Man the Musical, Ghost Rider 2, ScriptShadow and the Republican party. While I have serious concerns with each, I’ll happily cheer the best versions of any of them, because it’s not a zero-sum game.
Life, movies and popular culture are a lot more like Settlers of Catan than Monopoly. You don’t win by destroying and humiliating your opponents.
I want 2010 to be the biggest year at the box office for both clever indies and mega-tentpoles based on sticker books. I want a year crammed with so many award-worthy titles that ten best picture slots seems like too few.
For 2010, I’ll be watching for that twinge of schadenfreude and trying to snuff it out immediately. Negative emotion is a waste of time.
Archery
The new Austrian white. Because if it turns out I’m terrible at it, who cares?
Work as the reward
A confession: on some projects, the only way I can force myself to sit at the computer is to calculate the amount I’m being paid per page, until greed or guilt makes the writing happen.
I’m hoping the majority of my work for the new year can be done with healthier motivation. It is tremendously satisfying to be writing well, and that should be the goal. 1
Twenty-ten is going to be a busy year, though it’s not clear exactly which projects will happen.
I’ll be adapting How I Became a Famous Novelist and working on a movie I owe Fox. One very long-simmering non-movie project should finally be announced.
There is also a new version of this site that is just about ready to launch, and an iPhone app I’ll soon be beta-testing.
But that’s after the New Year. Until then, I’ll be on break. Happy Holidays. See you on the other side.
- I taught my daughter to read this year, and was careful to make sure she enjoyed it for the sense of achievement rather than my praise. “Good job!” is a trap. ↩
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