John August

QandA

Surviving the director’s rewrite

Directors, QandA, Rights and Copyright

questionmarkI had a producer option an (award-winning) spec script from me for $1. Over the past 18 months I’ve undergone about eight substantial revisions and a few smaller ones based on their notes. All revisions were done on good faith, meaning without pay.

Recently we agreed that the producer could be attached as Director. They then asked me if they could do a Director’s pass to the script. I said I preferred they give me notes and I execute them. They said it wasn’t possible for them to find funding and get actors attached without first doing a Director’s pass.

I understand that in Hollywood a Director’s pass is part of the process. However, I feel at the independent level (the proposed budget is under $700K) I should be able to retain creative control until production since this is supposed to be a calling card piece for all involved, especially because I have not been paid for my revisions. What do you think?

— Bill Haley
Greenwood, Indiana

The producer/director is not happy with the current state of the script. Whether she’s saying it or not, that’s what is really going on.

There is no grand tradition of a “director’s pass.” When it happens, it’s because some directors (1) believe they can write and (2) believe they can fix the perceived problems in the script. They may say they want to “make it their own.” But underlying that is the fact that there’s something about the script that bugs them, and you haven’t been willing or able to address it.

You’ve been (much) more than generous by doing a ton of free work backed by a $1 option. ((Bill can do this free work because he’s presumably not a WGA member, and the producer isn’t a WGA signatory.)) Based on the option agreement you signed, she may already have the right to bring in another writer, including herself. If so, you’re not going to improve the situation by creating a fuss. Be as supportive and constructive as you can.

Maybe she’ll surprise you and make some great changes. Remember: directing is a performance. Just like some actors can’t make sense of certain lines of dialogue, some directors can’t make sense of certain scenes. If she can recognize and correct for her weak spots, the movie will ultimately benefit.

If you’re not happy with her revisions, let her know why. Be specific and non-defensive. If you feel the script is really going off the rails, you may just have to hope she doesn’t get the movie made and you’ll have the chance to let the option lapse.

At that budget level, you do have some potential protections. It may be a little late to insist on one of the [WGA’s Low Budget Agreements](http://www.wga.org/content/default.aspx?id=924), but keep them in mind for next time; it could help protect your credit and back-end money. And with the dollar figures so low, you’re right to insist on greater creative controls. Don’t agree to further option extensions without both a conversation and a contract specifying how it’s going to work going forward.

No one stole your idea

Rights and Copyright

I have very little patience for accusations that someone “stole my idea for a movie.” Or a TV show. Or an [episode of Grey’s Anatomy](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2007/she-was-mistaken).

Such complaints are common. Sometimes, it becomes a copyright lawsuit. More often, it’s a campaign of whispers. As noted in the aforelinked post:

> A while back, a screenwriting colleague was dealing with a guy who was claiming on message boards that a certain blockbuster was stolen from his script. The “proof?” One of the characters had the same name. Basically, the guy was arguing that the screenwriter had changed the plot, the setting, the character’s motivations — pretty much everything but this one character’s name. It’s hard to claim that a conspiracy is both thorough and lazy.

In almost all these cases, the question fails once you consider the [silent evidence](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2007/silent-evidence): if the script in question is just as similar to a dozen other unproduced scripts, it’s hard to claim infringement, legally or spiritually.

When these cases make it to court, studios will often do the back-of-envelope calculations and decide it’s more cost effective to settle than fight. Any case you put before a jury is a case you can lose. The plaintiff’s attorneys know this, so they will forego upfront fees in exchange for a piece of the settlement.

So I was heartened to see that last week, a studio decided to fight and won. The case involved a lawsuit over the Jane Fonda/Jennifer Lopez comedy Monster-in-Law. Recaps Eriq Gardner for THR’s [law blog](http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/blogs/thr-esq/woman-owes-900k-failing-convince-74454):

> Not only did Gilbert [the plaintiff] lose, with the judge finding “vast differences in characters, plot, mood and theme” from her script and the film’s script, but her claims were deemed so unworthy and motivated by “bad faith” that the judge last month ordered Gilbert to pay the defendant’s legal tab.

That legal tab? $894,983.

Ouch.

I don’t know that the result will have much of a chilling effect on future litigants, but I hope it will embolden some studio lawyers to fight back.

These bogus claims of idea theft feed pernicious myths about Hollywood:

1. That movie ideas have much worth independent of execution.
2. That writers and writing are secondary to the idea.
3. That big ideas emerge unique and fully-formed without antecedent.

Additionally, these lawsuits obscure the very real ways working screenwriters find their ideas used without compensation. When developing a feature based on some existing material, it’s become common for producers to meet with six or eight writers to hear their takes. These bake-offs almost inevitably lead to cross-pollination, which raises the real question of whether writers are being used as unpaid R&D.

It’s this kind of intellectual appropriation — not “what the movie is” but “how to do it” — that is a much bigger issue in modern Hollywood. But because it’s subtle and hard to document, it doesn’t lend itself to headlines.

I sing this song for you. For free.

Rights and Copyright

Composer Jason Robert Brown is flattered when young singers like his work, but wishes they wouldn’t [pirate his sheet music](http://www.jasonrobertbrown.com/weblog/2010/06/fighting_with_teenagers_a_copy.php):

> I signed on to the website that is most offensive to me, got an account, and typed my name into the Search box. I got 4,000 hits. Four thousand copies of my music were being offered for “trade.” (I put “trade” in quotes because of course it’s not really a trade, since nobody’s giving anything up in exchange for what they get. It’s just making illegal unauthorized copies, and calling it “trade” legitimizes it in an utterly fraudulent way.) I clicked on the most recent addition, and I sent the user who was offering that music an email. This is what I wrote:

> Hey there! Can I get you to stop trading my stuff? It’s totally not cool with me. Write me if you have any questions, I’m happy to talk to you about this. jason@jasonrobertbrown.com

>Thanks,
>J.

> Nothing too formal or threatening, just a casual sort of suggestion.

His [back-and-forth email exchanges](http://www.jasonrobertbrown.com/weblog/2010/06/fighting_with_teenagers_a_copy.php) with a young fan (Brenna/Eleanor) make for a great discussion on how different copyright looks to different generations and needs. To Brenna, it’s unfair and unrealistic to insist she pay. To Brown, it’s common sense: of course you pay for the things you take.

Brown’s blog post is a few months old, but I hadn’t seen it until it was featured in the latest issue of the The Dramatist.

Also worth a look: a handy guide to the [most common rationalizations](http://www.digitalsociety.org/2010/07/jason-robert-brown-debates-rationalization-of-theft/) for copying.

On Google, and evil

Genres

A few months ago, I was approached to write a movie about Google. The producer had rights to a book, but more importantly seemed to have access to significant people with connections in the company, both at its founding and today. I was intrigued.

I think Google is one of the most fascinating success stories of the last few decades, and certainly worthy of big-screen (or small-screen) exploration. The producer wanted to focus on the early days, which is understandable: it’s an underdog story, with scrappy geniuses inventing the future. He was particularly keen on Google’s “Don’t Be Evil” philosophy.

I jumped in: “And then, of course, the second act is about how they become evil despite themselves. It’s like Animal Farm. The pigs make all these noble rules, and then systematically subvert them.”

*Crickets.* I won’t be writing the Google movie.

But it’s remarkable how much my appreciation for Google has shifted over the last year or two. I use their products, but I don’t love the company anymore. In fact, I’m kind of nervous about them. It’s a small thing, but I stopped syncing my address book through Google. I don’t want all of my stuff in their cloud.

Some of what I’m feeling may just be the need to have a technology villain. As an Apple user, that’s long been Microsoft, but it’s hard to feel threatened by a company that keeps tripping over itself. When Microsoft has a big success — Kinect, for example, is amazing — I find myself rooting for them.

I’m not the only one noticing something has changed about Google. They [cozy up with Verizon](http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/05/technology/05secret.html) on net neutrality. While cheering for openness, they embrace Adobe’s proprietary Flash format. They have valid competitive reasons to do both, but it’s inconsistent with their stated philosophy.

They launch services that seem under-thought and over-engineered, like Google Wave and Buzz. Meanwhile, they’ve actually become worse at the thing you mean when you say “google.” For example, Paul Kedrosky tried to compare dishwashers, and found nothing but [spam and gibberish](http://paul.kedrosky.com/archives/2009/12/dishwashers_dem.html):

> Google has become a snake that too readily consumes its own keyword tail. Identify some words that show up in profitable searches — from appliances, to mesothelioma suits, to kayak lessons — churn out content cheaply and regularly, and you’re done. On the web, no-one knows you’re a content-grinder.

How do these content-grinders make money? Largely through Google ads. It’s created a situation in which inferior search results make more money for Google. Yes, they still want to organize the world’s information, but it’s become easier to see the gray text after it: “…so we can sell ads next to it.”

The Android operating system it makes for mobile phones has become a viable challenger for Apple’s iOS. But for all the talk about it being “open,” they’re not giving it away out of the goodness of their hearts. Explains [Kyle Baxter](http://www.tightwind.net/2011/01/android-isnt-about-building-a-mobile-platform/):

> Android isn’t an attempt to build the best mobile platform and sell it on its merits; it’s a play to control the vast majority of the mobile market, secure eyeballs for Google advertising and eliminate any threat to Google.

At Google board meetings, do they discuss whether they should aim for smaller market share? I doubt it, though if asked about any other industry, they would stress the importance of robust competition.

Narratively, that’s the story I find most interesting about Google. At a certain point, do you become so large and powerful that evil is unavoidable?

I love the United States, but it’s easy to see why many actions our country takes in its own self-interest appear evil to other parts of the world. We want to raise the standard of living worldwide — but not at the cost of American jobs. We believe strongly in human rights, unless we’re talking about suspected terrorists, in which case we go Jack Bauer in a hurry.

Espousing freedom is easy except when it threatens your own dominance. That’s the conundrum Google is in at the moment, though I wonder if they even recognize it.