Film Industry

Will the digital mediums replace emulsion photography, even if only partially?

–N

If you’re going to allow me the “if only partially” escape clause, then certainly. Well-regarded films such as TADPOLE and PIECES OF APRIL are already being shot on digital video, as are the SPY KIDS movies and the STAR WARS prequels. On the distribution side, most new theaters are being built to allow for digital projectors (which will be installed whenever someone figures out who should pay for them).

Speaking in vast generalizations, digital is usually cheaper and faster than film. Videotape costs less than film stock, particularly when factoring in development and printing costs. Editing is already an almost-entirely digital process, so shooting digitally saves you a step. And studios dream of being able to digitally transmit their movies directly to the multiplex, saving the cost of striking and shipping 2,500+ film prints.

What’s more, the recent generations of digital projectors are quite good. You could switch over every movie theater in America and most people wouldn’t notice any change.

For all the progress that’s been made in digital cinematography — and it’s considerable — film still has some significant advantages that will keep it viable for decades to come. First, there’s a lot of entrenched experience. Cinematographers know film and love it. Second, film technology itself has improved dramatically. Today’s film stocks allow you to shoot in lighting conditions that would have been impossible a decade ago, and techniques like silver retention and skip-bleach processing allow for a lot of creative freedom. Third, the resolution of digital cameras still can’t match film — and when they do, there will be other creative reasons (such as film grain, focus and contrast) why you might still not be satisfied. Finally, on an $80 million movie, the film costs aren’t prohibitive, so there’s no reason for many movies to switch to digital video. (There is, however, a lot of pressure for one-hour TV shows to switch to digital cameras. Many are making the change.)

On the other end of the spectrum, digital video is a godsend for the $80,000 movie, where film and processing could eat the entire budget. Since it is these smaller movies where tomorrow’s filmmakers get their start, I can envision this new wave rising up through ranks with digital cameras in hand, and never trading them in for the “old” film cameras.

If you sell a script to a studio, what are your rights regarding the first re-write? Do you have to be a member of the WGA to demand this?

–Anonymous

Simply on the basis of morality, ethics and artistic vision, the original writer should always have the first crack at rewriting his script. Unfortunately, morality, ethics and artistic vision are sometimes in short supply when it comes to making movies. That’s why it’s good the Writers Guild of America (WGA) has its “creative rights” provisions, which cover situations like this. You can find a full list of them here.

If you’re not a WGA member and you sell a script to a studio, are you still covered? Almost certainly yes. The major studios have agreements with the WGA which basically state that any writer they employ has to be a WGA member — so if you’re not a member when you sell the script, you have to join right away. And it’s certainly worth it. Not only does the WGA offer screenwriters these up-front protections, but it also offers health insurance and collects residuals for writers’ work.

So are you, Paul, absolutely guaranteed the first rewrite on your spec script? No. There are at least two scenarios where this wouldn’t happen. First, you might sell your script to a company that is not a WGA-signatory. Even relatively big studios (like Miramax/Dimension) have divisions that aren’t WGA. In that case, you wouldn’t be guaranteed the WGA creative rights. A second scenario might have you waiving your right to the first rewrite as a condition of the script sale. I’ve never heard of this happening — it feels morally, ethically and artistically wrong — but it’s conceivable, so I’m sure it has happened to some writer at some point.

Finally, I like that you use the word “demand” in your question. No studio will be inclined to give you anything just because you ask politely. If having the opportunity to rewrite your script is a priority for you — and it should be — don’t accept a deal that would shut you out.

(While you’re at the WGA site, you should also check out the “Independent Film Program,” which can offer some helpful protection even for non-WGA members.)

I’m submitting a script to a screenplay competition and to
an agent that accepts unsolicited material. Both ask for a biography. Common
sense says to keep it short and sweet–and spell everything correctly. But
I’m finding it very hard to write anything other than a two or three sentence
summation of my education and career (none of which is entertainment related
and all of which is surely boring). I suppose I could add something about my
interests or goals as a writer, but does anyone care? Any advice or guidance
would be greatly appreciated.

–MA

Here’s my all-purpose screenwriter bio. Change the relevant details
to match.

Mark
Anonymous hails from Osh Kosh, Pennsylvania, the zipper capital of
the world.

The son of average suburbanites, he found escape
from the crushing sameness of early-90’s America through the films of Pedro Almodovar
and Lars Van Trier. Inspired to become a rule-breaking filmmaker, he
dedicated himself to learning the rules so that he might break them more
fully and artistically. To this end, he earned a bachelor’s degree
in communications from Oberlin, where he made stylish and inscrutable
films. Forced to take a slave-job at The Gap in order to repay monumental
student loans, he turned his attention to screenwriting, hand-scribing
his first feature-length screenplay during
slow periods in Men’s
Wear.

That script wasn’t very good. However, his second screenplay, A SWIFTLY
TILTING DOUGHNUT, turned out great. A light-hearted riff on Joseph Conrad’s
HEART OF DARKNESS, DOUGHNUT tells the story of a Krispy Kreme manager
sent to close an unprofitable store in the Florida panhandle.

Mark is 25 and lives in Pittsburg.

On the first CHARLIE’S ANGELS, you came on after the original writers, and, though numerous writers worked on the script, you stayed on the whole time and were credited along with the first team (whose script, save for the opening scene, has no resemblance to the movie). On the second film you were the original writer, but another writing team came on after and shares screenplays credit. In the end, is it better to be the last writer on these types of projects?

–Barney

In the end, it’s better to be the only writer on a movie. That’s how it was with GO and BIG FISH, which turned out to be the best movies I’ve been involved with in any capacity. Unfortunately, One Writer per Movie doesn’t happen as often as it should. The problem is that any sort of absolute maxim – there must only be one screenwriter on a film – is unrealistic and probably detrimental.

The CHARLIE’S ANGELS movies show how the process works, for better and for worse.

I came on to CHARLIE’S ANGELS after the writing team of Ed Solomon & Ryan Rowe had done a draft. In fact, they weren’t even the first writers. The studio had hired others to write different versions as far back as the early 90’s. But Ed & Ryan wrote a brand new draft that had elements the studio liked, notably the opening sequence on the plane. The rest of their script revolved around cloning supermodels, and definitely reached further into the AUSTIN POWERS/MEN IN BLACK school of wide-angle comedy. I was brought on board when Drew Barrymore and Nancy Juvonen joined the project, with the mandate of finding not just a new plot, but a new tone.

I worked for the better part of a year on the script, which very closely mirrors the final movie. Just before production began, another producer informed me that they were planning to bring in a roundtable of comedy writers to “look for jokes.” After some heated words, I quit the project. During production, a revolving door of very talented writers came on board for a week at a time, making surprisingly few meaningful changes to the script. In the end, none of these subsequent writers sought credit on the movie, so Ed, Ryan and I agreed to share writing credit. It was all very civil.

I went into the sequel knowing it would be difficult. Although I have great affection for each member of the team individually, the combination of personalities makes it very turbulent – anyone on the production would agree with me. Both for the good of the project and for my emotional self-preservation, I adopted a judo-like attitude about my writing. I rolled with the changes, happy to try anything, and worked to build consensus among the many powerful voices. Ultimately, I was asked to squeeze the plot of the proposed third Charlie’s Angels (including the Madison Lee character) into the storyline, and I balked. The writing team of Cormac and Marianne Wibberley were hired to do the job, and did the best anyone could at an impossible task. I came back after them to patch some cracks, but ultimately remained frustrated the movie would be so overstuffed and underdeveloped.

Unlike the first movie, there wasn’t a slew of writers on the project, just two others. The arbitration for credit was remarkably civil, and the Wibberlys and I recorded a commentary track together for the DVD.

The CHARLIE’S ANGELS movies show the pros and cons of multiple writers on a project. The first movie would never have been made with Ed & Ryan’s script, so it’s hard to argue that hiring a subsequent writer (me) was detrimental. In my opinion, the second movie would have been considerably better had certain changes not been made, but if hiring other writers kept the production from falling apart, maybe that was ultimately for the best.

In the end, it’s hard for me to be too high-and-mighty about protecting the original writer. I’ve worked on BLUE STREAK, JURASSIC PARK III, MINORITY REPORT, THE RUNDOWN and other movies as the second, third or eighth writer. In many cases, it’s perfectly clear why these movies need rewriting. But I’ve refused work where I felt the studio was dumping a writer arbitrarily, and sought out the original writers wherever possible to find out what happened.