The WGA announced this afternoon that all three proposed revisions to the Screen Credits Manual passed handily, ranging from 83 to 90 percent yes votes.
Handling a character’s POV shot
I have a character — let’s call him Evan — leans out an open kitchen window. I want it to be a POV shot, so everything on the screen is outside the window. Do I have to put the action of what’s going on, outside, under a new scene heading (EXT. FRONT YARD – DAY), or do I stay INT. KITCHEN and just throw in an EVAN’s POV:?
— Ryan
Los Angeles, CA
You can do either. The reader will understand that we’re looking outside. The main advantage to creating the EXT. scene header is that it reminds production that they need to secure an appropriate location. If the kitchen is a set built on a soundstage, they’ll need to find a corresponding exterior.
Here’s how I would write that scene:
Evan is three spoonfuls into his muesli when he hears an EXPLOSION outside. Racing to the window...
EXT. KITCHEN WINDOW / FRONT YARD – DAY
...Evan leans out to see his Toyota Yaris flipped over on the front lawn, engulfed in flames.
I didn’t stress that the shot is from Evan’s point of view. It rarely matters, unless the audience needs to understand that one character in a scene can see something that another one can’t.
Why it’s called “Go,” and not “Call”
IMDb has message boards for every film and every filmmaker. I would strongly advise you to never read them, and in particular, don’t read them for any film you’ve worked on. You will walk away feeling a little worse about yourself and humanity.
But today, while looking up the name of an actor in Go, I ignored my own advice and clicked on one of the message board threads, which brought up an interesting point:
Did anyone else notice that even though the film was shot in 1999 and focused on young people that no mobile phones appeared in the film? Unless I missed something it seems like this was a deliberate decision by makers of the film. I like the choice.
The stripclub guy who Simon shot may have used a mobile phone to call the Riviera to find out which room Simon and his friends were staying in. I don’t recall, it may have been a carphone. It still doesn’t explain why no other characters in the movie use a mobile when they had the opportunity.
The answer, of course: the film came out in early 1999, and cellphones weren’t yet ubiquitous in Los Angeles. They existed, to be sure, but they were relatively expensive and rare. We hadn’t even settled on the lingo yet. Here’s how I describe one early in the script:
Even my mother wouldn’t call it a “cellular phone” today. Later, Simon uses the current term to refer to the Ferrari’s built-in phone:
(There’s still little consistency between cell phone, cell-phone and cellphone.)
Whatever you call them, there are two such phones in the movie: Zack’s and Vic Jr.’s. Ronna uses a pager, which is as much as she could believably afford as a grocery store cashier with rent trouble.1
Nearly ten years later, it seems natural to expect that every character in Go would have a cellphone. Their modern-day equivalents would. And the story would have had to change. Some examples:
Todd would have called Simon to check on Ronna before selling her anything.
Claire would have called Ronna, rather than paging her, while stuck at Todd’s apartment. Todd would have insisted on knowing why there was such a delay.
The conversation between Todd and Simon wouldn’t have necessarily happened in the hotel room.
Todd would have called Simon the moment he realized the pills were swapped.
As originally scripted, Ronna was conscious after being hit by the Miata. She could have called Claire, Manny, or 911 to get help.
After the shooting at the strip club, Simon and Marcus would have called Tiny and Singh, warning them to pack up.
Simon could have (but might not have) called Todd to warn him about the Vics.
Claire would have called Ronna after being ditched at the rave.
Ronna and Claire would have tried calling Mannie when looking for him.
Looking at this list, I’m really glad there weren’t a lot of cellphones when making Go. None of these changes are horrible, but they demand extra work to explain why characters aren’t just picking up the phone. Getting people face-to-face in movies is crucial, and cellphones work against that.
But cellphones are better than texting, which is what these characters would have been doing if the movie were made in 2008. Texting is not just uncinematic, it’s anti-cinematic: characters sitting still while twiddling their thumbs. I’ve yet to see it done effectively in movies or TV.
- I can’t find the link, but I recently read an article about how bad we are at remembering when technologies started. How long have fax machines been around? How about DVDs? When did television go color? If it happened during our lifetime, we can often match it up to a specific purchase; the first DVD I owned was Go. But my three-year old daughter will have no idea whether the fax came before the telephone. In fact, she may never really understand a fax. It’s been six months since we’ve sent one. ↩
Using a pseudonym
How do you go about using a pseudonym? My name doesn’t particularly stand out, and I’ve been using a pseudonym I really like while blogging. I’d like to use this as I submit scripts to contests/fellowships/agencies, but I’m not sure of the legalities of doing such. I don’t want to legally change my name — just write under a pen name.
How would I go about doing this, but still receive credit for what I write? How would I make authorship clear on applications/registrations?
— Phillip
Salt Lake City, Utah
Your email included your full name, and I disagree — your last name is straightforward, easy to pronounce and easy to remember. But if you decide you want to use a pseudonym, there’s nothing stopping you.
For now, just use your chosen pseudonym on your scripts. You’ll need to use your real, legal name on contracts and registrations, but for casual purposes, your nom-de-plume is fine. It’s only when people start paying you actual money that you’ll need to address the legitimacy of your pseudonym.
The WGA determines how names appear on screen, and the rules are pretty specific:
PSEUDONYM
19. A writer must use his/her own name in all writing credits unless he/she has already established a pseudonym or registers one at the Guild office before commencement of employment on a writing assignment, or before disposition of any rights to literary material on which he/she wishes to use such pseudonym.
Here’s what this means in practical terms. At some point, you’ll get a job writing for a WGA signatory company (any of the studios or major producers) and will be required to join the WGA. When you do, there will be forms to fill out, including a place for your pseudonym. You better be sure it’s the name you want to use for the next 30 years.
There’s one special case that sometimes comes up. A writer has the right to use a pseudonym if she receives credit on a movie, but don’t really want her name associated with it.
Credited writers of theatrical motion pictures are guaranteed the right to use a “reasonable” pseudonym if the request is made within five business days after credits are final and if the writer was paid less than $200,000 for writing services on the movie.1
In this situation, you’d still get residuals and all the other protections from being a credited writer, but you wouldn’t have to claim public ownership of a movie that went horribly awry.
It’s important to remember that using a pseudonym is different than legally changing your name. That’s what I did in 1992 before moving to California. My original last name flummoxed everyone, so I went to court in order to swap it with my father’s middle name. It was a massive hassle, but in the long run, it’s worked much better to have one name in both public and personal life.
- The $200K threshold seems arbitrary, but it’s a demand from the studios. If they’re paying a writer that much, they want to be able to use his or her name and credits for marketing purposes. ↩