John August

QandA

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.

Writer and Director and Disaster

Directors, QandA

Do you think it’s bad for the movie, if the story, the screenplay and directing is being done by the same person?

— Karri Tahvanainen
via IMDb

Not if that one person is extremely talented. Some of my favorite movies come from writer-directors, who carried the project from conception to completion.

But there are certainly writers who shouldn’t direct, and directors who would be better off leaving the words to someone else. For instance…

No, actually, I won’t name names. But it’s not hard to think of a few examples.

It may be helpful to compare the attributes of a writer to the life of a director.

WRITER: works alone, sets own schedule, implements notes
DIRECTOR: works with crew, follows production schedule, gives notes

The job of a writer and the job of a director are fundamentally different, which is why so few people are great at both.

But I think there are situations where the writer is justified in choosing to direct his own material, even if he is a misanthropic slow-poke who has trouble communicating with others. Some stories have such a unique vision and voice, they can really only be told by one person.

For example, [Kevin Smith](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0003620/) often gets ragged on for his directing, and I think even he’d admit that his films don’t always look that great. His camera work isn’t inspired. His staging can be awkward. But the fact is, a “more talented” director couldn’t make a Kevin Smith movie. His films rely on a certain attitude and personality that only he can provide. Terrence Malick’s CLERKS just wouldn’t be the same.

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.

Virtual Sundance

Film Industry

parkaIt’s quiet in Hollywood this morning, because a large percentage of the town in is Utah for the [Sundance Film Festival](http://festival.sundance.org/2006/).

For those who’ve never been, let me give you a quick impression of what it would feel like if you were there.

* First, imagine everyone you’ve ever worked with, both good and bad.

* Next, put them in parkas and boots.

* Arrange them all in a long line stretching down the sidewalk. It’s very much like the queue for a Star Wars movie, except the film in question is a vulgar Hungarian “comedy” about three generations of masturbators. (Note: I actually saw this film.)

* Add a Weinstein.

* Call in favors to get on the list for the secret Beastie Boys show.

* Somehow get into the secret show, only to realize that a room packed with two hundred people in parkas is pretty miserable.

* Go to sleep, wake up, then see a few movies you probably wouldn’t bother watching on cable.

I’m not at the festival this year, partly because I just got back from the “other” Sundance: the [Sundance Screenwriters Lab](http://institute.sundance.org/jsps/site.jsp?resource=ffp_labs_home&sk=FRw0Izzi1EWn3eSo). I was an advisor this year, helping five filmmakers work on their upcoming features. The projects were all terrific.

Two of my advisees have films in the festival this year. So Yong Kim’s film [In Between Days](http://www.soandbrad.com/) is intimate and amazing, and a perfect example of why digital filmmaking allows for new kinds of storytelling.

Photographer [Carter Smith](http://www.artandcommerce.com/AAC/C.aspx?VP=Mod_AlbumPages.Portfolio_VPage&L4=2U1XC55BVJW&L5=2U1XC5J9RTV) has his short film [Bugcrush](http://bugcrush.net) in the festival. Looking at the [trailer](http://bugcrush.net), you’d think, “Hmm. That looks disturbing.” Trust me: the film is so, so much more disturbing than that. In a good way. Mostly.

Unless you have a thing about bugs.