John August

Producers

Dead rapper’s mom is calling the shots

Producers, QandA

I have a situation
that is very complex. I’m in the process right now of producing a movie with
the mother of a famous rapper who was killed. This will be a feature film about
his life as a youngster up until his death. The problem is, she wants us to
also use the screenwriter who wrote the first draft of the script, who she
has a personal relationship with. How do we deal with this situation once the
director gets involved?

–D

Carefully. And prepare for it to get rough.

I’m including your question not because I can offer you any real help, but
to remind readers that producers don’t have an easy life. Aspiring screenwriters
tend to think of producers as sharks or gurus, but often they’re people like
D struggling to make a movie under difficult circumstances.

Just a guess, but I suspect the screenwriter who wrote the first draft is
inexperienced, and may not be up for the task. If D or the director decides
to replace him, who’s the bad guy? If the mother freaks out, who’s going to
deal with her?

The real world, outside of the safety of 12-point Courier, is chock full of
these uncomfortable situations, and producers aren’t always the bad guys.

Writer control

Producers, QandA

When working on a big budget remake, does the writer have complete control
over how the characters behave and talk? It must be difficult to shape the
main characters when people all around you have their own personal ideas about
them.

–RBC

Once the script has left the writer’s hands, he never has complete control
over anything. That’s the first and possibly the most frustrating truth about
screenwriting.

In order to be filmed, your perfect vision has to be mucked up by directors,
actors, editors and cinematographers, each of whom will change it to greater
and lesser degrees. The hope is that each step of the way, they’ll make it
better. Surprisingly, sometimes they do.

Your question is about remakes, where there’s a general familiarity with the
characters and the concept, and your instincts are right. Since everyone involved
on the project knows the underlying material, they all have strong opinions
about how to proceed.

The writer’s job, in this case, is to try to capture as much as possible of
what’s beloved about the original, and yet still make a movie that can stand
on its own.

In the case of CHARLIE’S ANGELS, the producers and I had long talks about
the tone and characters, independent of the plot. Rather than mocking the original
series, we wanted the movie to be a giant hug around it. We wanted the angels
to be super-competent on the job, and approachably dorky in their off-time.
Despite all the action, this would be fundamentally a comedy, and cool people
just aren’t funny.

All of this seems pretty obvious watching the final movie, but getting everyone
to agree to this approach was easily half of my job. It would have been easier
to make a straight-out spoof (like SCARY MOVIE), or a full-on action movie
(like James Bond), but I don’t think either would have been as successful.

More on becoming a co-producer

Go, Producers, QandA

How did you come to be a co-producer on GO?

–David Demchuk

Although Columbia Pictures ultimately released GO, they weren’t the original
buyer of the script (in fact, every studio in town had passed on it, feeling
the subject matter was too dark). A tiny company called Banner Entertainment
read the script and wanted to make the movie, but since they didn’t have a
lot of money to put up front, they offered a few things a studio normally wouldn’t.

First, they guaranteed I would be the first, last and only writer on the project.
Second, they would give me the right to buy the script back if the movie hadn’t
gone into production within 18 months. Finally, they would keep me on board
as co-producer.

The various flavors of producer credit (executive
producer, associate producer,
co-producer) are tossed around a bit too easily in Hollywood, and all too often
they’re given to people who don’t really deserve them, such as an actor’s mananger.
In my case, I actually earned my masters degree in the film producer’s program
at USC, so I was weirdly well qualified for the job.

For the first week or two, I just sat quietly in meetings, happy to be there.
But ultimately I got highly involved in every aspect of the production, from
hiring Doug Liman to direct it to scrambling for funds when our foreign financing
fell apart (I had just made a deal with Columbia’s sister studio, Tri-Star,
which is a large reason why the movie ended up there). During production, I
was on-set from call to wrap, and sat in on five months of editing. It was
an amazing experience.

In total, there were five producers on GO. The three "full" producers
were Paul Rosenberg, who had set up the script and given me my first two jobs
in the business; Mickey Liddell, who ran Banner Entertainment; and Matt Freeman,
who worked with Mickey and brought him the script. The other co-producer was
Paddy Cullen, who oversaw the physical production, including the budget, schedule
and insurance.

Looking back, it’s hard to imagine making the movie without all those people
doing their part. While GO had some unique challenges, every production needs
its good cops and bad cops, peacemakers and war-bringers. A writer can go off
and work by himself, but a producer needs to lead dozens of other people. It’s
a very different set of skills.

Since GO, I have co-executive produced a television series, and signed on
to produce a big-budget monster movie that I’m writing at Columbia. But even
on projects where I’m "just" a writer, the experience of having produced
is a tremendous advantage in anticipating the needs of the filmmakers.