John August

Film Industry

Publicity 101

Big Fish, Charlie, Film Industry, Follow Up, News

Last night, the [Writers Guild Foundation](http://www.wgfoundation.org/) held a panel discussion about publicity. I was one of the panelists, but I ended up learning a fair amount myself.

For example, according to a Variety editor, it’s perfectly okay for a screenwriter to pick up the phone and call a writer at the trades when you’ve sold a project.Announcements like this run all the time (c.f. Shazam!). It has to be legit, of course. Optioning a script to your roommate, who is an aspiring producer-slash-drummer, doesn’t count. It’s strange: in this blog, I’m constantly telling aspiring screenwriters to stop asking for permission and just do what they want to do. But I honestly wouldn’t be ballsy enough to call an unknown writer at the trades to do this.

Chris Day, who runs publicity for my agency (UTA) brought with him a memo I’d written in the Big Fish era. At his suggestion, I was meeting with publicists, and had listed my goals and messages.I was an advertising major, so this kind of publicity-speak comes naturally. I promised attendees at the panel that I would find the original memo and post a .pdf of it. So here it is: [Big Fish publicity goals](http://johnaugust.com/Assets/pub_goals.pdf).

One of the questions that came from the audience–but probably should have started out the evening–was, What is the point of publicity, exactly? Most of us aren’t looking to be famous per se, and unlike a novelist, our names alone aren’t going to be selling books.

The Writers Guild Foundation stresses that any time a screenwriter gets press, that helps all screenwriters. And to some degree, that’s true. [There are no famous screenwriters](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2006/are-you-somebody), but it would be nice if the general public had some sense that movies are actually written, and that the actors aren’t making up their dialogue.

But I’d say the main reason to think about publicity is to help the movies and TV shows you’re involved with. The screenwriter tends to know more about the story than anyone else on the project, so you can be a crucial resource as journalists figure out how to write about the plot. I’ve attended a half-dozen junkets, and have rarely seen myself directly quoted. But I recognize a lot of what I’ve said in the stories that are written. If I can help create a consistent, positive message, then I’ve done my job.

The other reason to think about publicity is in terms of your overall career. I have no doubt that I’ve gotten meetings with certain directors and actors because of repeated exposure to my name. It’s nice if someone likes Big Fish. It’s even better if they remember I wrote it. Every time a news story includes the phrase, “…August, whose credits include Big Fish, Corpse Bride and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory…” that’s like refreshing the cache on someone’s internal IMDb.

Writing for the very small screen

Film Industry, QandA

questionmarkI just read a great article by David Denby of the New Yorker on the quickly shifting “end-user” experience in cinema. He bemoans the technology convergence that has squeezed the Hollywood blockbuster into his 2″ square video iPod screen.

Whereas he is uncomfortable with the physics (and optics) of viewing content from handheld devices, he sees the youngest generation of consumers as “platform agnostic,” willing to contort themselves into “pretzels… cuddling it under the covers after lights-out.”

He points out that the length of a 50’s pop single was “influenced by what would fit on a forty-five-r.p.m. seven-inch disk” and that “the length and the episodic structure of the Victorian novel—Dickens’s novels, especially—were at least partly created by writers and editors working on deadline for monthly periodicals. Television, for a variety of commercial and spatial reasons, developed the single-set or two-set sitcom. Format always affects form, and the exhibition space changes what’s exhibited.”

Now my question for you. What’s your perspective on format affecting form? Will you ever write for 2″x2″?

–John
Los Angeles

Yes, for two reasons.

The first is because I have absolutely no choice in the matter. Every movie and TV show created will eventually play on iPod and similar screens. And soon after, on virtual-screen googles goggles, holographic projectors, and direct-input brain jacks. With the arrival of new technology, the past isn’t rewritten. It’s simply reformatted.

But the second reason I’ll write for the very small screen is less pessimistic. I think there’s an opportunity for a new kind of storytelling suited to the more-intimate experience of watching a screen 12 inches from your face. Just as television developed its own storytelling grammar–deliberate act breaks, season arcs, a reliance on close-ups–the iPod and mobile phone media will demand their own unique ways of telling a story.

Today’s teenagers are often slammed for having short attention spans, but I think the real change is that a generation weaned on the internet, DVD and TiVo isn’t willing to surrender control of entertainment.I’d call them “actively passive.” They want to watch, but they want to be doing something else at the same time. It’s impossible to read a novel while watching “Two a Days,” but a magazine like EW is a perfect fit. And while it’s unconscionable to text message in a movie theater,Seriously, this is where I become Cranky Old Man. This is not your living room. Shut off your damn phone and watch the movie. I admire how the mobile generation never disconnects from their tribe(s).

In the next few years, someone (maybe MTV) will develop the tiny-screen equivalent of Must See TV, something that is uniquely tailored to iPods and the generation who can’t imagine life before them. It will be interesting to witness not only how the format develops, but what impact it will have on big-screen movies. (Which, for the record, I believe will still exist 10, 20 and 50 years from now.)

What if my agent doesn’t like my idea?

Film Industry, QandA, Writing Process

questionmarkHow much influence should an agent and/or manager have on the specs that you choose to write? I have an idea for my next project that one of my reps is enthusiastic about, but the other doesn’t care for at all. I love the idea and several execs to whom I’ve pitched it seemed to like it as well, but is it foolish of me to write the script anyway despite the knowledge that one of my guys may not be interested in sending it out when I’m finished?

— Jason
Los Angeles

Agents aren’t producers. Or directors. Or studio executives. But they deal with these people constantly, so they tend to have a pretty good idea what everyone’s looking for. If your agent or manager doesn’t care for your idea, it’s worth asking whether he, personally, doesn’t love it, or whether he, professionally, thinks it’s going to be a hard sell. Only the latter opinion actually matters, and perhaps not as much as you’d think.

Remember: Knowing the market isn’t the same thing as taste, and everyone’s taste is different. Nineteen readers can be non-plussed by your “Wuthering Heights on Mars” spec, but if a few key execs at Dreamworks love it, Spielberg will read it this weekend.

When I was writing Go, my agent was unenthusiastic, both about the concept and the chances of selling it. I finished the script and found another agent. In a way, the original agent was right — every studio passed. But it only took one “yes” to get it made. Go became my first produced movie and started my career.

I’m not telling you to dump your agent (or manager), but to keep his advice in perspective. Yes, he wants you have a long and satisfying career, but most immediately wants you to write scripts that will sell. Ideally, scripts that will sell for a lot of money. And his sense of what those scripts are may not jibe with what you’re doing. So listen to him, but don’t feel obligated to take his advice.

What is independent film?

Film Industry, QandA, Sundance

How do you define an independent film?

— Lee Myers
via imdb

Classically, an independent film was one that was made outside of the conventional studio system, be that Hollywood, Bollywood or Pinewood. But with the rise of the “independent” labels of the major studios, such as Fox Searchlight and Paramount Vantage, that distinction is pretty much moot. Also, consider that the last three Star Wars epics were made independently (by Mr. George Lucas). Any movie with fast-food tie-ins really shouldn’t qualify, in my opinion.

I’d argue that the term “independent film” should be reserved for talking about the movie itself, rather than how it was financed.I propose labeling conventional movies “dependent films.” Try it. It’s fun. There’s a reason the word “independence” so often shows up in proximity to “revolution” — a shared spirit of frustration, anarchy and apple-cart-upsetting. From their conception, independent films aren’t just made outside of the studio system. They are made in opposition to the studio system, with its relentless need to round off the corners and soften the blows. And in standing against the status quo, independent films help to change it.Think the early years of Miramax, with the first movies by Soderbergh, Tarantino and others.

Of course, my proposed redefinition of independent film can’t accommodate many of today’s darling indies, which mollycoddle their audiences with a careful recipe of quirk, warmth and family dysfunction.I blame THE FULL MONTY. Just the very term “indie” seems to embody that spirit of fuzzy cuteness. I would call on filmmakers to start feeding their movies after midnight, and let their vicious little monsters roar.