Finally, a Tumblr documenting and discussing all those [scrolling shots of code](http://moviecode.tumblr.com) on computer screens in movies and television.
I love when directors and production designers take the time to get this right.
And look! Here’s some vintage [Prince of Persia](http://moviecode.tumblr.com/post/72240625132/in-the-tv-series-revolution-series-1-episode-6).
Merrill Barr explains why Nikita’s final six-episode season is [mostly for Netflix](http://www.forbes.com/sites/merrillbarr/2013/11/18/the-final-season-of-nikita-isnt-about-fan-service-its-about-netflix/):
> The old model was simple: start a show, make 100 episodes, sell-off the syndication rights, continue producing episodes until it’s no longer cost-effective and cancel the series. That was it. In that model, endings mean nothing; they’re just convenient wrap-ups to a story the money men didn’t care about.
The old model was based on consuming shows one episode at a time, not the binge-watching that is so prevalent today.
> Netflix has made series finales matter because without an ending a series is less likely to be picked up by their service, and in the age of digital distribution not getting your series on Netflix is like not getting your product into Wal-Mart. […Networks] must go out of their way not to produce a certain number of episodes, but to conclude their shows properly to make them more viable entities in the digital future.
Now that ending series properly is cost-advantageous, I’ll be curious to see whether more cancelled shows get wrap-up episodes.
The editors of Macworld named Highland one of the [best products of 2013](http://www.macworld.com/article/2071020/macworld-editors-choice-awards-the-best-products-of-2013.html?page=2):
> Writing is hard. Writing a script or screenplay can be harder. That’s why we like Highland, Quote-Unquote Apps’ minimalistic $20 screenwriting tool. Highland offers writers a clean, unadorned space to work on their screenplay.
> All Highland files are saved as plain text, allowing you to open them in just about any program on your Mac, PC, or iOS device. You can even import your PDFs and Final Draft files into the app for easy editing, and then export them back into their original formats for further work.
> Certainly for those in the film industry, this app is more than worth its price.
Many thanks to the editors of Macworld, and big congratulations to the Quote-Unquote apps team for their hard work on Highland.
Nima Yousefi has built and rebuilt Highland’s parsing engine a dozen times, taking it from impressive to magical to so-good-you-forget-it’s-difficult. (The next build is even better.)
Ryan Nelson has designed and tweaked our graphics down to the pixel. Minimalism is hard, because there’s nothing to hide behind.
Stuart Friedel keeps tabs on sales figures and industry chatter. He and I use the app daily, so it’s often our observations and annoyances that set the agenda.
I was excited to see so many other apps I love on the list of Eddy winners, incluing 1Password, Badland, Bartender, Capo, Drafts 3, Fantastical 2 for iPhone, Gone Home (Craig’s One Cool Thing), IFTTT, Launch Center Pro, and nvAlt.
For 2014, we’ll be keeping up development of Highland while introducing a new app that works related magic for folks who deal with screenplays.
In the meantime, you can [check out Highland](http://highland.quoteunquoteapps.com/blog-eddy) on the Mac App Store.
I recently updated my [Youtube channel](http://www.youtube.com/user/johnaugust), and came across a scene from my 2003 pilot “Alaska.” I thought it would be interesting to compare the written scene to what it looked like in the final version.
Here’s the scene as scripted. (You can read the whole script in the [Library](http://johnaugust.com/library).)
INT. SATCHEL HOUSE – DAY 3
Closing the front door behind her, Valerie follows Mathers into the living room. The house is spartan by any standard: dirty walls, old drapes, sagging furniture. Two rifles hang on the wall.
In all, it’s a shelter, but not a home. No woman has been in this house in a decade.
Venturing into the kitchen, Mathers finds industrial-sized cans of beef stew lined up on the counter. Saltines by the case.
MATHERS
The mother is dead, isn’t she?
VALERIE
Virginia Satchel. She died ten, fifteen years ago.
MATHERS
So who is Connie?
He points out a child’s drawing on the refrigerator, the paper yellowed with time. The illustration shows four stick figures in front of the house, labelled “Daddy,” “Glenn,” “Bobby,” and “Connie.”
Connie is noticeably bigger than the other three. As Mathers steps back,
A GUNSHOT
BLASTS through the kitchen window from outside. As glass begins to rain down, a SECOND SHOT rips into the kitchen cabinets. Mathers and Valerie dive for the floor, unholstering their weapons.
Three more SHOTS blow through the kitchen. Mathers listens to the tone of the shots.
MATHERS
Rifle. One shooter.
VALERIE
You want me to call for backup?
MATHERS
How close is it?
VALERIE
Half hour. Maybe more.
Silence. The shooter has stopped. Mathers very carefully edges up to the shattered window. Valerie takes the far side.
With a quick movement, Mathers leans around the window frame and starts SHOOTING. Behind a distant wood pile, movement. A flash of metal.
Mathers ducks back as two more SHOTS rip into the window and wall.
MATHERS
Keep him shooting.
Before she can ask where he’s going, Mathers runs down the hallway. Valerie presses back against the wall. Steels herself, then pops around to FIRE.
She’s met with another BLAST. Just missed her.
EXT. BACK OF HOUSE – DAY 3
A chair SMASHES through a second story window.
Mathers climbs out after it. He slides down the shingled roof, then jumps down another ten feet to the ground below.
EXT. EDGE OF THE FOREST – DAY 3
We STAY WITH Mathers as he circles behind the woodpile, gun at ready. Up in the house, Valerie continues to FIRE, keeping the shooter’s attention.
Reaching a good distance behind the shooter, Mathers SHOUTS OUT:
MATHERS
State Trooper! Drop your weapon!
The shooter stands. CONRAD “CONNIE” SATCHEL is six-foot-six and weighs in at nearly three hundred pounds.
Severe birth defects have left him physically and mentally malformed. Although 20 years old, he’s like a giant eight-year old.
MATHERS
Put it down! Put it down!
Connie isn’t aiming at Mathers, exactly, but he isn’t inclined to drop the rifle either.
CONNIE
You’re a police man.
MATHERS
I am. I need you to put that rifle down.
Over Connie’s shoulder, we see Valerie approaching. She has her gun on Connie.
MATHERS
Is your name Connie?
CONNIE
How did you know?
MATHERS
Put down the rifle and I’ll tell you.
Intrigued, Connie sets the rifle down. Connie holds his hands up. His fingers are bandaged and bloody. Several are obviously broken, sticking out at strange angles.
MATHERS
What happened to your hands, Connie?
CONNIE
(looking at them)
They had evil in ’em. Daddy had to fix ’em.
Here’s the [finished scene](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iVU3A9NjqNU&feature=c4-overview-vl&list=PLa3qqbMuNy-rFF9_65cTZNmsgruNXXUOd) after filming and editing:
The biggest changes to the scene were motivated by the location we found. Director Kim Masters wanted plenty of windows, so we ended up enclosing a porch and playing it as a kitchen. We didn’t feature any of the set dressing I wrote in (industrial cans, saltines), but the set decorators followed that vibe.
Once the gunshots started, some dialogue got rearranged.
First, Valerie’s line was shortened to the much better “Call for backup?” Second, we added a line for Mathers — “Alright, let’s see what we got first.” I honestly don’t remember if it happened on set or in looping. (We don’t see his face in the cut, so it would have been an easy line to slip in.)
Because we ended up with a single-story cabin, there was no need to have Mathers sliding down a roof. Otherwise, the rest of the scene plays very much as scripted — and very much how I imagined it.
For me, writing a scene is a process of fully visualizing a scene in my head, then finding the words to describe it. You don’t always get such a good match between intention and finished product, but the better you can evoke the experience of the scene on the page, the more likely you’ll be pleased with the outcome.