John August

John

The word escapes me

Words on the page

For the past few months, I’ve been at a loss for word. Not _words_, but one very specific word. It refers to knowledge that would only be known by people in a specific group. One would use it thusly…

“The distinction between italic and oblique is obvious to a type designer, but is frankly a little too _blank_ for everyone else.”

I really needed the word. But I couldn’t remember it.

I started asking people, smart people, if they could help me figure out the word. No one could.

I Googled “pertaining to a specific group.” I got page after page of words, but not the right one.

I was 90% sure the word started with ‘e.’ So I actually went through the dictionary, page by page, looking at every entry for the letter ‘e.’

But I couldn’t find it.

Then last week, while walking through an almost empty theatre, I heard someone say something magnificent: _esoteric._

From the American Heritage Dictionary:

es•o•ter•ic (es-uh–ter-ik) adj.

Intended for or understood by only a particular group: an esoteric cult. See synonyms at mysterious.
Of or relating to that which is known by a restricted number of people.
Confined to a small group: esoteric interests.
Not publicly disclosed; confidential.

I have no idea what the person was talking about. I just heard that one word, and felt the relief of an agonizing itch being scratched. I immediately emailed myself the word, just in case.

Just today, I found a [Reverse Dictionary Search](http://www.onelook.com/reverse-dictionary.shtml) site, which I’ve already bookmarked for the next word I can’t remember.

Why most scripts never become movies

Film Industry, QandA

questionmarkOn September 5th you had said that “most scripts don’t become movies, and a hundred things could go wrong in the process.” What exactly was meant by this, and of the scripts that you have written and you deemed worthy of the silver screen, how many actually made it there?

–Sweta
via IMDb

We’ll start with the second part first. By my count, I’ve written 18 feature-length scripts. I have seven produced credits, which means I have a 39% production rate.

That’s actually not bad. It gives the illusion of being prolific when in fact it’s just a combination of luck and careful picking. As I’ve said before, my favorite genre is “movies that get made.”

I’ve also done significant-but-uncredited rewrite work on seven other screenplays, five of which have been made.

Your question includes the qualifier, “[that] you deemed worthy of the silver screen.” I can honestly say that at the time I wrote them, I considered every one of my scripts worthy of the screen.

Now? Not so much.

But for the sake of example, let me list my never-made scripts and briefly explain why they won’t be playing soon at a theatre near you.

__Here and Now__
My first script. Nicely written but largely plotless.

__How to Eat Fried Worms__
Was actually made this year, but with a script by a different writer.

__A Wrinkle in Time__
Was made for television, with a draft that pre-dated mine.

__Untitled Zombie Western__
Will probably get made at some point, in some form.

__Fenwick’s Suit__
The studio didn’t like my script, and let the underlying rights lapse.

__Demonology__
The studio thought it was too expensive for what it was.

__Thief of Always__
The director and the author hated my draft. Hated.

__Secret Project I Can’t Talk About__
Will hopefully get made soon.

__Barbarella__
The two studios bickered and dickered until the underlying rights fell out.

__Fury__
Probably will get made at some point, in some form.

__Tarzan__
In a perpetual holding pattern at the studio.

Studios develop a lot of projects that never end up getting made. Every few years, an outsider with a lot of money will come to Hollywood and vow, “We’re not going to waste money. We’re only going to develop the projects we’re going to make!”

And a few years later, they’ll have a dozen projects in various stages of development, and maybe one or two movies. Because it’s not just the script that determines whether a movie gets made. You need the right director, the right stars, the right way to market the movie. You can be a week from shooting when a hurricane destroys your location, or a strike shuts down production. Or the exchange rate takes a dive.

As the screenwriter, there are hundreds of variables I can’t control. So I consider it a minor miracle any time a movie gets made.

Race and the screenwriter

Rant

[Craig Mazin](http://artfulwriter.com/archives/2006/01/passing_on_the.html) and [Alex Epstein](http://complicationsensue.blogspot.com/2005/12/diversity-pass.html) both recently tackled a topic that was on my to-blog list. Yes, I keep a list of things I intend to blog. And yes, I tend to just write whatever strikes me at the moment anyway. But since Alex and Craig got to it first, I might as well say what I was going to say.

At issue is whether it’s a good idea for the screenwriter to specify ethnicities for various characters. Alex believes in doing the “diversity pass” to keep his script from being lily-white. Craig feels this is absurd and racist.

Craig is wrong.

But not for the reasons you’d expect. While Craig and I tend to be on different wavelengths politically, he tends to come down on the side of common sense. And I think there’s a very practical matter that’s being overlooked.

Unless it’s important for understanding a story point, I rarely specify a race for a character. But that’s not to say I won’t give some strong hints. I will often make the lieutenant GONZALEZ rather than GOODMAN. The internist is more likely to end up DR. CHO than DR. CHASE. The schoolteacher will be PATEL rather than PETERS.

Is it liberal guilt? No. It’s readability.

Screenplays are read quickly. Unlike a novel, you don’t linger for a few paragraphs getting to know minor characters, setting up their memorable quirks. Rather, you meet them on page 20, then see them again on page 64. As a screenwriter, you want the reader to instantly recall that they’ve encountered a certain character before.

A reader is much more likely to remember an international banker named Abebayehu Tegene than Abe Thompson.

You can debate why this is. Maybe it’s just that the name is more interesting. But in most cases, I think it’s because we’re hard-wired to match race to surnames. We see Abebayehu Tegene and we think, “This character is black. Not only that, he’s probably African.” We form a mental picture of “African banker,” then move on.

With Abe Thompson, the reader has nothing to latch onto. Abe Thompson is just a name.

Note that giving a character an African surname doesn’t remove the burden of actually making this character interesting. If he says more than a few lines, there better be something notable about him independent of race. Both Tegene and Thompson might be condescending snobs who openly mock our hero.

But come page 64, you’ll still remember Tegene over Thompson.

In the real world, what are the implications of implying ethnicities for these characters? As I’ve [noted earlier](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2005/two-sides-to-the-story), when casting, the assumption tends to be “white unless otherwise specified.” But if you write “Judge Fujimoro” rather than “Judge Foster,” there’s a pretty good chance you’ll end up with a Japanese judge.

You might find that stereotypical, or an example of blatant tokenism, such as the “black lieutenant syndrome” which hit cop shows in the ’90’s. After all, shouldn’t the part go to the best actor, regardless of race?

Yes, in theory. In reality, for a small supporting role, it’s a binary decision. Either the actor is Good Enough or Not Good Enough. If you’re casting a judge in Los Angeles, there’s no question you’ll find plenty of Good Enoughs. It might take an extra 20 minutes to find Japanese Good Enough. To me, it’s time well spent.

Obviously, there’s a lot more that can be written about race and screenwriting. As I noted in an [earlier post](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2004/the-get-a-mentor-program), the role of Ronna in Go was written as African-American. We ended up casting [Sarah Polley](http://imdb.com/name/nm0001631/), perhaps the whitest Canadian you could find. So was I right to write “Black” in the script? Was I wrong to take it out?

Just as it’s naive to think that making a minor-but-likable character Iraqi will better the world, it’s foolish to assume that leaving a character “race-less” lets the screenwriter off the hook. Readers, including directors, studio executives, and casting directors, will assume that European names belong with white people, and that surgeons are white men in the early 50’s, unless you tell them otherwise.

So I say, make the geophysicist Abdul Kalam. Don’t do it for diversity. Do it for your script.

Dude, I got a Grammy nomination

News

This morning I opened my email to find a note from my friend James LaRosa, congratulating me on my Grammy nomination. I had no idea what he was talking about.

But I went to the [Grammy site](http://grammy.org), and lo and behold, there’s my name. Apparently the announcements were this morning in New York.

The nomination is for “Wonka’s Welcome Song,” the annoying (yet catchy) jingle that the puppets sing at the factory gates. I share lyric credit with Danny Elfman, who also sang it.

There’s other news on other fronts, but nothing trumps unexpected kudos, so I’ll save that for later.