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Five quick questions

July 21, 2008 Big Fish, Formatting, Projects, QandA, Words on the page

I have lots of questions, but by all means choose two you’d like to answer.

— Ric
New Zealand

1) What’s the commercial potential of movies without happy endings? I’m tired of every movie having to end in a good way, even if that’s a main character surviving a slasher flick. Does a movie automatically fail if it ends with the world blowing up? Forrest Gump wouldn’t quite be the same movie if Forrest suddenly went mad and killed everyone, but surely not every single movie has to end on a good note.

Movies can certainly end with everyone dead, ((Consider The Blair Witch Project, or Cloverfield. If either of these are spoilers, you’re officially behind on popular culture.)) and it’s not at all uncommon to kill off key protagonists (e.g. Romeo and Juliet, Titanic). Even a comedy can end on mixed notes — The Graduate being a good example. But your basic assumption is correct: the commercial potential of most movies is going to be stronger if it ends happily, simply because people will walk out of the theater happy. So you need to decide how important a happy ending is to your story, knowing the extra challenges you face with a downbeat ending.

I’d also challenge you to remember that a happy ending doesn’t necessarily mean everyone skipping off into the sunset. From The Godfather to Aliens, many great movies end on a note of uncertainty. The immediate threat may have passed, but the road ahead is dangerous.

2) What’s the best way to handle an “early life” part of a film, where you need to show the character growing up? How much is too much? How many “stages” are too many? Will it break the movie if my screenplay uses the whole first act to show incidents: at birth, 5 years old, 7 years old, 10 years old, 14 years old (and that’s condensing things, stage-wise) and then further flashbacks later on? And how do I show the character’s “want” or “why” through all of this? Or is it okay if the want or why doesn’t start until later in the film?

Every movie works differently, but trying to include that many stages will almost certainly fail. Here’s why.

In a book, aging a child from five to seven to ten to fourteen costs you nothing. You can skip from age to age, incident to incident, without trouble. Readers don’t have a strong expectation about “when the story is supposed to get started,” so as long as you are holding their interest, you’re okay.

In a movie, aging a child from five to seven to ten to fourteen means casting at least three actors. ((I’m assuming the same child actor is playing 5 and 7, or 7 and 10.)) Each time, you’re forcing the audience to identify with a new kid, with a new face, and new quirks. The replacement cost is very high, so it has to be really worthwhile to consider doing it.

More importantly, movie audiences have strong expectations about when the story is supposed to get started, and we know the story won’t really begin until we reach the grown-up version. Any scenes involving the young versions are going to feel like stalling.

Big Fish follows Edward Bloom’s life from the day he was born until the day he dies, but deliberately structures those moments to tell the bigger story of Edward and Will’s reconciliation. That’s the A-plot, and everything else is in service of that. In fantasy flashbacks, we see Edward very briefly as an infant, then jump ahead to him as ten-year old. After that, he’s either adult (Ewan MacGregor) or elderly (Albert Finney).

Get to the grown-up. We need to know much less of a character’s history than you think.

3) What is, in your opinion, the best way to write a synopsis?

A good synopsis doesn’t follow the plot beat-by-beat, but gathers together related story threads to explain What It’s About rather than exactly What Happens. Depending on its purpose, a synopsis can be two sentences or two pages, but I find almost any movie can be well described in a paragraph.

4) How would I show someone “studying really hard all year.” Would that be a montage?

Yes, but it sounds incredibly dull. Please avoid it.

5) Say the character starts singing a song and then all these different scenes start showing. How would I write that, considering each scene coincides with certain lyrics?

The character begins singing, then as you move through other scenes, you include the next part of the song as voice-over.

BOY’S CHORUS

Oh beautiful, for spacious skies / For amber waves of grain...

SONG CONTINUES as we...

CUT TO:

INT. PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE – DAY

Mrs. Wiggin’s ginormous bare butt bounces up and down. She’s evidently straddling Mr. Garcia.

BOY’S CHORUS (V.O., CONT’D)

For purple mountains majesty, / Above the fruited plain.

Mrs. Wiggins opens her mouth in wide-eyed ecstasy:

BOY’S CHORUS (V.O., CONT’D)

America! America! / God shed his grace on thee.

CUT TO:

FIVE MINUTES LATER

Sweaty and slaked, Mrs. Wiggins lights a cigarette. Mr. Garcia is trying to work a kink out of his back.

BOY’S CHORUS (V.O., CONT’D)

And crown thy good / With brotherhood

BACK TO:

INT. AUDITORIUM – NIGHT

BOY’S CHORUS

From sea to shining sea!

The parents APPLAUD.

I never told Robert Redford to suck it

July 3, 2008 Follow Up, Sundance

I want to expand, redirect and challenge some of the discussion on my earlier post about [Sundance, The Nines, and the death of independent film](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2008/nines-post-mortem).

For starters, many in the P2P world were all too happy to declare victory over, well, logic. ([The Nines Director: Forget Sundance, Use P2P Instead](http://newteevee.com/2008/07/01/the-nines-director-forget-sundance-use-p2p-instead/)). That’s incorrect on a lot of levels.

In the article, I said that leaking a copy online at the right moment would have certainly increased awareness, and might have helped sales of tickets, DVDs and paid downloads. Notice that I really am talking about sales — that antiquated notion where people pay for things. My thesis is that if you make it at least as easy to obtain something legally as illegally, a fair number of potential users are happy to pay for it.

And I said nothing approaching, “Forget Sundance.” I said that Sundance buzz is annoying and meaningless, but that doesn’t mean the festival is irrelevant. Quite the contrary. Film festivals are public events in which thousands of people come together to watch challenging, independent film. The failure of arthouse distribution for indies makes festivals even more essential, because without film festivals, most of these movies would never screen before an audience.

Sundance is the Grauman’s Chinese Theater of festivals — you really do want to premiere there, to reach the biggest number of eyeballs at once. For two weeks each year, the American media pretends to give a shit about non-blockbusters. People stand in line to see documentaries, and Parker Posey is considered a star. It’s Fantasyland. So you trudge up and down the snow-covered streets, visiting all the different outlets and pimping your movie.

But wait. Didn’t I say the buzz is useless?

I think it is, at least as a component of the traditional bought-at-Sundance, released-six-months-later cycle. But if you could shorten that, and get those buzz-worthy movies from Park City in front of audiences worldwide in two weeks, I think you’d find some real success. Studios do this all the time with their quasi-indies, premiering them at a festival as a launch pad. We did it with Go in 1999.

Would it be difficult to go from Sundance to worldwide in two weeks? Absolutely. The lead time on a commercial DVD is still six weeks or more. But pay-per-view, iTunes and Netflix online have a lot more flexibility. All the legal work (clearances and contracts) would be a scramble. But we absolutely could have done it with The Nines.

Where does that leave theatrical?

I don’t know. My hunch is that for indies, the arthouse circuit is best left to special events and filmmaker Q&A’s. The Academy has rules about how long a film has to play in theaters in order to be eligible for awards, so for certain films, that may be a factor. But what readers outside Los Angeles may not realize is that many of the award-contender movies are sent to voters on DVD before they’re playing theaters.

Other small notes:

* You can disagree with me about whether Once tanked. I loved the movie, and felt it could have and should have made a lot more. Its low budget is ultimately irrelevant, because the real money was spent on marketing.

* A Sundance award-winner from this year, Ballast, dropped its deal with IFC and will self-distribute. The director gives a lot of good insight about why, and just how low the dollar figures are. If I were in his shoes, I might have done the same thing. With The Nines, we had Ryan Reynolds and Hope Davis, who were big enough names to generate some minimums. Without any stars, it’s tough to shake out more money.

* Also notable is that Ballast was to be distributed through IFC’s First Take program, which debuts movies simultaneously in theaters and by video-on-demand, much like 2929’s HDNet Films program. It seems like the right idea, so I’m curious whether the business model will work.

* The Sundance folks are adamant that it’s a festival, not a market. Redford himself [has said](http://www.canada.com/vancouversun/news/arts/story.html?id=74eacc4d-d5b5-45cc-b3c0-fae9fc0ea18a), “We have to remind people of who we are and what we’re about…[W]hen buyers are coming in and looking at the guide (for commercial product), I don’t care about what’s commercial. I think we should leave that to the mainstream.”

Coming back to one of the key ideas in the original article, I’d stress that the real measure of success for an indie film’s release is how many people saw it. Festivals let people see your movie. So do theatrical, DVD, pay-per-view, TV and yes, piracy. Finding the right combination these elements is the challenge. I don’t think I have the answer, but I can safely say it’s not what we did on The Nines.

Looking at the credit proposals

June 12, 2008 Film Industry

The Writers Guild of America (WGA) determines who is the credited writer on a feature film. This is a Good Thing. It prevents studios, producers and directors from grabbing undeserved credit. But it makes for a lot of work and controversy within the Guild, because inevitably some writers will not receive credit they believe they deserve. It’s not just a matter of pride and bragging rights. Credits also determine who receives residuals.

For readers unfamiliar with how screen credits work, here’s the briefest introduction.

Let’s say you write a movie, and it gets made. If you were the only writer who worked on it, you get “Written by” credit, both on screen and in advertising.

If another writer was hired to work on the movie, then the two of you attempt to figure out who gets credit, possibly dividing up “Story by” and “Screenplay by” credit. For instance, you might take “Story by” while sharing the “Screenplay by” credit. ((When you see two writers names separated by “and” in the credits, that means they worked independently, as opposed to an ampersand (&), which denotes a writing team like Lowell Ganz & Babaloo Mandel.))

What happens if you and the other writer can’t figure out a fair deal? Arbitration.

The Guild recruits three members (writers) to read all of the relevant drafts and determine who should get credit. Both the arbiters and the participating writers remain anonymous — the drafts are labelled “Writer A,” “Writer B,” etc.

It’s an exhausting and imperfect process, and the source of never-ending conversation among any gathering of more than three working screenwriters.

This week, the joint credits review committee of the WGAw and WGAE sent out [three proposals for amending the credits process](http://wga.org/subpage_writersresources.aspx?id=2859). They’re very modest, and don’t try to tackle any of the bigger and more controversial topics ((Foremost of these is the Catering Analogy. Currently, the guy who drives the catering truck has his name listed in the end credits of a movie, but a writer who spent months toiling on it gets no mention at all, even though her impact on the final product is much greater.))

But they’re worth close examination.

1. Arbiter Teleconference In the Case of Non-Unanimous Decisions
The current manual states that each arbiter shall reach his/her decision independently of the other arbiters and that there shall be no conference among the members of the Arbitration Committee. The proposed change would allow for a Guild-hosted teleconference among the arbiters and the Arbitration Consultant in the event the Arbitration Committee is unable to reach a unanimous decision as to the appropriate writing credit. The identities of the arbiters would remain confidential during the teleconference. If a unanimous decision is not reached during the teleconference, the majority decision will be final.

Easy yes. I’ve served on several arbitrations that have resulted in split decisions, and would have greatly appreciated the ability to talk with the other two arbiters about how they reached their decisions and why. Did they notice something I didn’t? Is there something I could point out to them? Generally, these decisions come down to pretty small issues that merit discussion.

Currently, when arbiters are coming up with different credits, it falls on a WGA staffer to talk to each arbiter individually and see there is common ground to be reached. Not only is it inefficient, but it introduces an outside element to the decision.

A telephone conference call maintains the anonymity and autonomy of the process, and should result in better, quicker and more thoughtful decisions.

2. Eliminate Relaxed (“Any Substantial Contribution”) Standard
The current manual states that where a production executive or production executive team makes the requisite contribution to receive screenplay credit, the Arbitration Committee may — but is not obligated to — accord any other writer screenplay credit for “any substantial contribution,” without that writer meeting any specific percentage requirement. The proposed change would eliminate the relaxed standard and provide that the normal percentages apply, even where one of the participating writers is a production executive or a production executive team.

Yeah, my eyes glazed over too. It’s difficult to parse. So let’s break it down.

“Production executive” in this case means a producer or director, rather than a studio suit. So the proposal is talking about situations in which one of the participating writers on the project is also the producer or director. For sake of example, let’s call her WRITER B. ((For WGA credits, a writing team is treated as a single writer, so the same would apply if it were two writers working together. But note also proposal #3.))

As the rules stand now, if Writer B gets credit, the arbitration panel may also award credit to any other writer who provides “any substantial contribution,” disregarding the normal percentage requirements.

This is weird.

You’re throwing out all the rules and asking the arbiters to possibly consider awarding credit based on an oxymoron (“any substantial”), without offering guidance as to why the special case exists.

My hunch is that the “any substantial contribution” clause was enacted to thwart a situation in which a writer-director (or writer-producer) rewrites someone else’s script so completely that the original writer would find it impossible to get credit based on real percentages.

Having been on both sides of arbitrations, I can tell you that it’s extremely unlikely for the original writer of a spec script to come out uncredited. But the real question is why this special case only kicks in when one of the writers is also a producer or director — a situation that already requires a higher threshold to receive credit — and why it doesn’t just apply to the original writer, but ANY writer who works on the movie.

It’s a weird, bad, dangerous precedent, and it should be changed. So I vote yes on the proposal.

3. Eliminate 60% Rule for Production Executive Teams
The current manual states that where a subsequent writer is a production executive team (i.e., one or more members of the team is a production executive), the team must contribute “substantially more than 60%” to receive screenplay credit. This rule applies even if one of the team members is not a production executive. The proposed change would reduce the threshold for a production executive team to receive screenplay credit from “substantially more than 60%” to “more than 50%.” The change would bring subsequent production executive teams into line with subsequent production executives who write alone, who are currently subject to a “more than 50%” requirement.

Again, not the easiest paragraph to read, but easy to agree with once you understand it. Let’s take it from the bottom to the top.

Currently, for a Production Executive (really, a writer-director or writer-producer) to receive credit, she must have contributed more than 50%. That’s higher than the threshold for non-production executives, which stands at 33%.

Currently, if a Production Executive is writing as a member of a team (for example, Todd McClever & Sarah Goodwit, of which Goodwit is the director), they need to show that they’ve contributed “substantially more than 60%.”

This doesn’t make sense.

Why should McClever’s presence change anything?

The proposal has it right: if we’re going to set a higher threshold for hyphenates, it needs to be consistent.

The upshot
—-

All three get a “yes” from me.

But make no mistake: they’re very modest improvements. Over the next few years, the real discussion needs to be how to accurately and fairly recognize who wrote on a movie. The current credits system reflects failed attempts at social engineering, penalizing hyphenates and encouraging writers to make Hail-Mary attempts at credit through arbitration, since it’s the only way they’ll see their name on something.

For now, though, the committee deserves a thank you for presenting three proposals for patching glaring holes in the current setup.

Question sprint

June 9, 2008 Psych 101, QandA, Rights and Copyright, Story and Plot, Writing Process

A bunch of interesting questions have backed up in the queue, so let’s see how many we can get through while waiting for the new iPhone to be announced.

I’m currently outlining a spec feature, 98% of which takes place at the Superbowl. I’m on the fence about proceeding, however, because a few creative executives I’ve pitched the idea to were concerned about 1) the production costs and 2) the need to secure the NFL’s approval. One of the execs did say, however, if the NFL took to the script and got involved it would be a potential dealmaker.

While the production costs aren’t as much of a concern for me (given that those particular naysayers hadn’t gotten past the logline), the seeming make-or-break nature of the NFL’s involvement is a bit daunting. Before I take the plunge from outline to first draft, do you think it’s worth the risk?

— Patrick
Los Angeles

Yes. If you believe in the story and the characters, go for it. If a producer or executive likes your script, she’ll be smart enough to the realize that the NFL of it all can be figured out. ((On the other hand, if she doesn’t like your script, the NFL factor is an easy explanation for why she’s passing. Which saves face for everyone.))

At a USC workshop this weekend, a student asked me about writing a spec Alien vs. Predator. I gave him roughly the same advice — if you think you can write a kick-ass version of it, don’t let the potential unmake-ability of it deter you. My caveat to him was that in the case of AVP, it’s a really tired franchise, so you’re starting with a significant enthusiasm gap. Better to make your own mythology.

I’m about to re-write a script that I’ve been working on for a little while now. It’s a small character road trip drama in the spirit of 1970s American films (e.g. “Five Easy Pieces”, “Coming Home”, “Sugarland Express” — though not all films referenced there are road trip movies). This is my do or die draft — if it’s no good, then I will abandon it. But I’m hoping that some of your advice will help me avoid that outcome.

My concern is that too many of the scenes right now are overly reliant on dialog and I don’t want to tread into unnecessary exposition. At the same time, I want to be able to reveal character and backstory (and obviously, dialog plays a huge part in that). Do you have any general pointers on how to balance scenes (or sequences) of relatively quiet character moments, with the overall dramatic push that’s necessary to maintain tension? I want to make sure that both aspects remain compelling.

N.S.
Los Angeles

There’s nothing wrong with dialogue scenes if they’re moving the story ahead, or enjoyable enough on their own merits. But I suspect you’re finding that a lot of your dialogue scenes are telling us backstory about your characters, and the thing is, we just don’t care.

That’s hard to hear, but you need to hear it: except for crucial, story-twisting revelations, we simply don’t need to know more about who your characters were before they walked on screen.

So before you start that next draft, take a red pen to any chunk of dialogue that isn’t about what’s happening now. Be brutal. I suspect you’ll find that you have a lack of action and some unclear goals that were hiding behind the chatter.

The movies you cited, along with more recent ones like [Lost in Translation](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0335266/), [Sideways](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0375063/) and [Little Miss Sunshine](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0449059/), are all good examples of movies that are talky without ever becoming expositional. Characters talk about what they want, what they fear, but they never dwell on what happened. And each movie finds moments to be quiet. Long stretches of each film play as montage, letting the characters do things without commenting on them.

Let’s say you’re working on a script that’s based on a musician. He’s a fictional musician, so you’ve never heard anything this guy’s produced. As the story unfolds, we watch him build up his song. Is it okay to include the song? Or would that just kill everything and shut the reader down? I guess what I’m asking is, do you include lyrics or just leave them out and hype him like he’s as great as the supporting cast says he is?

— James

Give us lyrics. You’ll want to abbreviate a bit — cut out chorus repetitions, for starters. But it feels like too much of a tease to omit the words altogether.

Often, when I am diligently working on a script, or close to being finished on a script, I find my mind and writing meandering to other ideas. For instance, I’ve written several drafts on a thoughtful spy movie and have an extensive set of notes (from peer review) I plan to implement. Instead of completing the script, I spend time thinking and making notes on new ideas — a drinking road trip film and a sentimental father-son story.

Is this a natural way for new and good ideas to develop or am I merely avoiding “finishing” a project for fear it will suck? Not being a professional, yet, I’m not bound by deadline to turn something in…but how does a disciplined, professional, writer deal with this issue of…distraction?

— Greg

The script you haven’t written is always better than the one you’re staring at, cursor blinking, its flaws so obvious that you can’t believe you ever started writing it. That doesn’t change over the course of a career. __You will always want to be writing something else.__

You’re left with two choices: toughing it out, or [changing horses mid-stream](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2008/changing-horses-mid-stream).

Look at your spy movie, and ask yourself, “If this script had just landed on my desk, would I be excited enough by the possibilities to do this rewrite?” If the answer is no, feel free to investigate one of your other projects.

Granted, there are times you’ll really need to force yourself to finish a new draft. For instance, if you’re getting paid, or if you’ve promised a draft to someone whose opinion matters. And don’t mistake pragmatism for laziness: If something is difficult but do-able, do it. Not only will you improve the script, but you’ll learn something in the process.

The time to move on is when reaching the “best version” of your script ceases to be interesting to you.

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