Archives for category: Business

I hate the telephone. Absolutely hate it. I’ve always sought ways to avoid it, whether it’s been using email, writing letters or driving dozens or even hundreds of miles to talk to someone in person.

I’m not generally an introvert. I’ve got no qualms about presenting to a large group of people or walking into someone’s house or place of business to interview them. But preparing for a phone call always sets my heart to pounding and raises the hair on the back of my neck. I unequivocally despise it. You’d think I was back in high school and was working up the nerve and trying to control the squelch in my voice before asking Tiffany Meyer out.

Still, even in this age of email, text, Skype, Facebook, etc, you still have to make phone calls. If you’re making a movie, you have to make a lot of phone calls. People talk about needing cameras, talent, the right mics. They tell you you need a plan or a story or a vision. You need money. You need experience or you need to go to film school. But none of that means anything if you don’t pick up the phone to line up talent, call investors, build a crew, ask people to interview, get directions, ask questions.

Filmmaking is picking up the phone. It doesn’t matter if you have a RED camera, Canon 7D, Bolex 8mm, brilliant script, amazing actor or a fascinating documentary subject. It doesn’t matter if you know After Effects or Final Cut. If  you can’t pick up the phone and ask somebody to sit for an interview or help you finish the project in some way, by investing or lending support, then you’re never going to finish something worthwhile.

So the most important part of moving any project forward is the thing that I least like to do: pick up the phone. I don’t even like to call to make restaurant reservations and here I am about to phone a well-respected, award-winning winemaker and ask him to help me with a film project, giving up a couple days of his time, free of charge, doing something that most people hate even more that I hate the telephone: sitting in front of the camera.

Can you tell I’m procrastinating?

Okay, here I go, I’m making the call now.

Astrakan Films is developing my script, The Eulogist. William Olsson is a talented new director, and he’s got an amazing and ambitious vision for this story. William’s not the type of guy to shy away from big stories. I can’t wait to see him bring this project to the screen.

johnaugust.com

Solid industry insight from the writer of Big Fish and Charlie and the Chocolate factory; this blog is an ideal blend of real information delivered with personality and opinion; John’s enthusiasm for the craft is infectious, and his honesty is refreshing.

sellingyourscreenplay.com

Though the title of this one seems rather mercenary, and the site’s loaded with ads, this blog is loaded with real, practical information, especially for novices; it’s clearly written and frequently updated, sticking to bare-bones how-to blogging.

the pen is mightier than the spork

Amusing and entertaining perspective from a working writer in the UK; it’s personal and chatty, but if you dig in you’ll find good information and an interesting glimpse into the industry overseas.

Truly Free Film

Great blog on filmmaking from an indy producer’s perspective; it captures the angst in the independent world with economic challenges and changes in the media.

Risky Business

Balance out your indy film perspective from TFF with a solid blog from Steven Zeitchik at the Hollywood Reporter.

The Unknown Screenwriter

Irreverent and brutally honest, this is definitely a blog worth popping into your reader. No less useful for being a  counterbalance for ernest and sincere advice.

So what screenwriting and film blogs do you have in your RSS reader?

Have you sent your scripts off to the Nicholl Fellowships for the year? Are you working on your next feature project? Are you trying to learn how the business works from the outside?

If you answered yes to any of the questions above, you’re probably still in learning mode. Most screenwriting bloggers recommend moving to LA if you’re serious about a career so that you can immerse yourself in the industry and make connections. Some will heed that advice and others won’t, but either way it’s a long, hard road to get a feature script that you’ve written filmed and distributed. The odds are pretty much against you. That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t try. But it does mean that you should be doing everything you can to learn about filmmaking.

Ultimately, the best way for a writer to learn is to simply write and rewrite scripts. Words and story are your tools, and you have to know how to handle them better than anyone else on a project. But another way to to learn is to make a short film. Like writing, it can be done anywhere. If you do it yourself, it’ll cost you a couple thousand bucks, and it might not turn out very well, but it will provide an education.

I’m working on my first short film now, and it’s an education. I’ve got one feature script in development, and I’ve written several full-length scripts that have fared well, but a short film is another matter altogether. Our project is already up to a cast of 15 plus extras, and a crew of at least 10 (if we can find enough volunteers). You look at a script differently when you’re trying to meet a budget. Or when you have to rewrite to adapt to a location that is different from what you originally envisioned. You learn about things like gaff tape (and what it’s for), camera dollies, cranes, and how catering, snacks and coffee are at least as important as what camera you use.

This isn’t something you can do on your own as a screenwriter. But if you’re outside LA, you’d be surprised how easy it is to get the interest of volunteers. You’ll need experienced partners. And it’ll take months of your free time. But you’ll learn a few things about filmmaking and you’ll be able to talk intelligently about the myriad of issues that producers have to deal with, from working with a budget to casting to managing a large crew. And when you’re asked to rewrite to address any of these issues, you’ll do so with complete understanding and empathy.

I’ll blog this summer about the progress of our little project. Of course we’re entering with the typical hubristic notion of showing in film festivals, winning all sorts of awards and sending it off to Sundance. But even if it sucks, I’ve already learned a bunch about filmmaking that I didn’t know after years of writing and revising.

I just finished Draft 14 of a script that is currently in pre-production. Some of the drafts have been minor rewrites, and others have featured sweeping changes, including the elimination of several characters and plot threads.

In some cases, newer drafts have featured reversion to original scenes. The current opening page is virtually identical to the opening I typed raw and unfiltered into the blank page of the word processor during Draft 1 a couple years ago. But, this latest draft features a series of dramatic changes to the backstory and the political context.

What I’ve learned is that you have to be flexible and willing to try suggestions during development. If you have trust and a good working relationship with the production team, then you should be able to compare two drafts side by side and all agree which is stronger. This isn’t compromising, but rather collaboration.

I’ve heard the term “development hell” tossed about frequently.  I’m sure that can happen, and it can become especially onerous if a project is stalled and killed because parties can’t agree. And often this is a result of factors far beyond a writer’s control, such as key actors pulling out at the last  moment, or a switch of directors.

But I’ve also heard the term applied to the extreme length of the process and the sheer number of rewrites often required. But I’m finding that this continuous rewriting is not only beneficial, but exhilirating. It’s amazing when an offhand comment in a meeting becomes a key part of the script. Or when a margin note becomes one of the best lines of dialog in the whole film.

So here I am at Draft 14 of this project. I’m hoping this will be the one that goes out for casting. But I had the same hopes for Draft 9.

That’s a question about creativity raised by the film “Starting Out in the Evening.” It follows an aging and mostly forgotten literary novelist who is forced from his routine when a young graduate student enters his life, ostensibly to research her thesis. It is a wooden and stilted film with some (mostly) unintentional awkward moments, though it does achieve a sort of grace by the end. The last thirty minutes are wonderful, and Frank Langella patiently builds a character, whom he proceeds to allow time to dismantle block by block.

I’m not a film critic, so I’ll stop with the analysis. What I should talk about is the subject…this is a film about the writing process, and, ultimately, the origins of creativity. Where does it come from? How do we channel it? The film doesn’t provide any real answers beyond the only one that someone who makes up stories can give: writing is just something you do.  Asking why and from whence is for critics and English teachers. What matters is the process, which is what this film dwells upon and also what makes it interesting for writers.

Roger Ebert seconds this notion of the naivite of interviewers who ask the same old questions for which novelists and screenwriters have no real answer beyond what they think might sound good in quotes. About the graduate student who is interviewing Langella’s character, Ebert notes:

Soon she is discovering what every interviewer learns from every novelist: He doesn’t know what anything in his books “stands for,” he doesn’t know where he gets his ideas, he doesn’t think anything is autobiographical, and he has no idea what his “message” is. I am no novelist, but I am a professional writer, and I know two things that interviewers never believe: (1) the Muse visits during, not before, the act of composition, and (2) the writer takes dictation from that place in his mind that knows what he should write next.

Ebert’s two statements offer some of the truest understanding of the process as it works for me. Viewers who aren’t writers might drift off, but this film will raise interesting questions for anyone who spends a large portion of their time making up stories, tapping the keyboard with a limited idea where they are going and little to guide them beyond the faith that a story will eventually reveal itself if you are true to your compulsion and if you hang on long enough.