Figure Drawing

I'm prepping to direct a 6 minute teen vampire sex comedy, YOU ARE SO UNDEAD, based on Lisa's hilarious script. One of the most useful classes I ever took for directing was a two year class on acting at the Joanne Baron studio. One of the most useful classes I ever took for writing was a typing class in high school. I'd like to add another offbeat class you'll find useful if you want to direct: figure drawing.

I cannot draw worth a damn. When you're doing a shotlist/storyboard, it is really helpful to be able to draw in perspective. You do not want to see what my storyboards look like.

If you have a chance, particularly in college, take a figure drawing class. You may not learn to draw well, but you will learn to draw better than me!

As they say in the Bronx, "Au Reservoir"...

If you're in Montreal this evening, and want to hang out with a bunch of writer/director/producer/entertainment folk, swing by Réservoir on Duluth and hoist a few with us after 7 pm. Tonight's guest drinker is none other than Denis McGrath.

A Fine Piece of Cheese

We watched TREMORS again Friday night. Now that is a fine piece of cheese. I like to call it an "unnecessarily good movie." Unnecessary, because it probably did not make a penny more because it has well-written, fleshed-out characters, or lovely performances, or because the characters behave sensibly throughout. (From the moment it's apparent that There Is A Problem, they are trying to get the hell out of the valley.) But it does have those things, and boy is it watchable. Even the normally giant-mutant-worm-averse Lisa enjoyed herself.

Nothing clever to say here, really. We just had fun.

The Show Writes the Show

My dear friend Shelley Eriksen gave a very touching tribute to Peter Mitchell when he received the Showrunner Award at last night's 2010 WGC Awards. The theme of her speech was that Pete Mitchell does not, in fact, hate you. But one other thought stood out. Once when she was working on a show with him, he pointed to a script he had written, and said something on the order of, "It doesn't matter who's got the writing credit," pointed to the title of the show on the script, "That's who writes the show."

The show writes the show. Your job as a writer is of course to satisfy the showrunner and make his or her job easier. YOu do that by finding the voice of the show.

You do, of course, bring your own talent and ideas. But ideally you are pouring all your talent and ideas into telling stories in the voice of the show.

I had an interesting experience on ep. 1.06 of NAKED JOSH, where I wanted to do an episode with a certain tone, and it became clear that the ship had already sailed on the tone, and I was trying to write an episode that was not the show. Even though I was the co-creator, I had to acknowledge that what the show wanted took priority over what I wanted.

The show writes the show.

Frame of Mind

Q. I had an independent but (from what I've heard) reputable producer say she wanted to option my script for a Web miniseries, and they've been taking forever sending me one. It's been over a month and a half of "in about a week." Should I be concerned?

No. Don't be concerned. It is probably a dead duck, but maybe it's not. You never know.

Here's how I approach these things: I send stuff out, then I forget about it. If I get interest, my agent negotiates. If the interest fizzles out, I move on. If a producer with whom I don't already have a relationship with promised me something six weeks ago, and didn't deliver it, you will have to remind me what it was, because I've forgotten it.

I try never to mourn the might have beens. I rarely stress about what may work out. I just assume things may or may not happen, and focus on the writing.

I can control the writing. I can do the writing. I can't make a producer hire me or buy my stuff. I try not to put too much energy into hoping they will. I just focus on what I'm writing.

A producer might not hire me because they don't think my sample was funny or dramatic enough. Or because they wanted a woman writer. Or a junior writer. Or because they needed someone from British Columbia. Or because they owed a script to somebody. Or a million other reasons. The only one I can control is the first one, and I can't even control the script at the point it goes out the door. I can only make the next script funnier or more dramatic.

A producer might not buy my script because they don't want a romantic comedy, or they're busy, or the market is soft, or because they already have something sort of like mine, or because they have no money after all. All I can do is write another script.

If you focus on your work, your work will be better and you'll do better in your career. But much more importantly, you won't stress about things that are completely beyond your control and your ken. The work will save you. You can't rely on anything else.

An NDA? Really?

Q. I was fortunate enough to find a independent producer who wants to buy my script. So far, they sent me the NDA [non-disclosure agreement] which I signed and a 1st draft of the option agreement, which wasn't signed. They say they are working on the final draft of the option and they're working on funding the company so that I can get paid. They also have about 3 or 4 other projects they're developing. You mentioned you can never trust a producer who says he knows where he might be able to get the money to make a movie(s).

I was just wondering, is the signed NDA enough of a legal document to prove they're serious about making the movie and that my script has merit?

Certainly not. Asking you to sign a non-disclosure agreement doesn't mean anything. In fact it's very odd to ask a screenwriter to sign an NDA. What do they not want you disclosing? It's your idea!

They keep promising me it'll get done and that things are looking "great", but I don't know. I'm wondering if they overestimated how quickly they can get their company funded. The 1st draft of the option said they'd pay me quite well, but nothing was signed yet. Now I'm sitting and waiting for the final option.

It's amateurish of them to send you a draft option and then promise you a real option later. The draft option should represent their offer to you. Your representative then uses it as a baseline to ask for more stuff, to close loopholes, to clarify ambiguities, generally to make it a better deal for you. Then it goes back and forth between your rep and them until you both have something you can agree with.

Their saying things are going great may mean absolutely nothing whatsoever. Producers almost always say things are going great. Until it comes time to pay. Then they say things aren't going as well as they'd hoped and could they have more time, please.

As a practical note, agreements are almost never signed by the producer until the writer signs. I don't know why, that's just the way it's done. I don't really know what would happen, legally, if the producer took your signed deal and then failed to sign it. I assume that your representative could insist that he sign it or the deal would be considered void. Make sure your rep follows up to make sure the deal is actually signed by the producer. It makes it harder to hold him to terms he hasn't signed.

(It is not impossible however. Under contract law, your working under a negotiated but unsigned agreement may create a contract, and their paying you almost certainly does. But IANAL, this is not legal advice, and YMMV.)

My suggestion would be that you have a rep (lawyer or agent) send them your notes on their contract. Their draft option almost certainly contains loopholes favoring them. I would consider the project "available" to other people until you get a signed deal. Until then, I would quietly continue to shop it around. If you get a better offer, you can pit producer against the other, and that's always fun.

Not Very Modern Family

Has anyone else noticed that MODERN FAMILY is actually about three nuclear families where one spouse works and the other doesn't?

Yeah, sure, one family's gay and their daughter's adopted. But an old rich guy being married to a hottie isn't exactly news. And the third family is right out of a sitcom from the 70s.

Just saying. I love the show. But the families are "modern" only in the sense that the art made in the 1950's is called "Modern" while contemporary art is called "Contemporary."

Lisa and I are working on a spec pilot called "Contemporary Family." You have been warned.

It's So Not TV, It's HBO

We've been watching TREME and THE PACIFIC. One thing I find remarkable about the two shows is how strongly they seem to reject anything episodic. Not only are stories not built and resolved within the hour, often it is hard to suss out exactly what the stories are.

I like a show that has a serial arc, but I do want to feel after I've watched an hour of TV that I've been told a story. I like to bite off a piece of story and chew it for a while before I go onto the next piece. I don't like to devour a whole season of a show in a weekend; two a night is about my limit on a DVD set. (Earlier in the year we went through the entire BUFFY box set, more or less two a night. That was fun.) If I compare THE PACIFIC to BAND OF BROTHERS, I feel there was more story in BoB; likewise if I compare TREME to THE WIRE, I feel there was more story in THE WIRE. It seems an odd direction for a channel to move; though given the strong prejudice against anything serial on networks, it probably makes sense for HBO. You definitely won't see shows anything like these on a network, not even with cleaned-up language.

No doubt the shows have rich situations and fleshed-out characters. I love the music in TREME. The combat in THE PACIFIC fascinates me. I'll stick with these shows. But I hope when all is said and done I'll know what story they wanted to tell me.