Breakfast with Sharks Read online

Q.—I recently pitched my latest screenplay to New Line Cinema. Four execs from New Line have read the script and they seem quite interested. Currently I don’t have representation. At what point would I want an agent dealing with New Line?

  A.—Revision notes from the studio on a script they don’t own usually means that someone there finds certain aspects of the script “promising” and that they like dealing with you. However, right now, if push comes to shove, they will most likely pass on the project. So adding an agent to the mix is premature. The agent will sniff this out quickly, usually without even making a single phone call, then be reluctant to get involved. Execute the notes if you agree with them, figuring that you’re building a relationship and getting world-class feedback for free, the result of which you can turn around and sell to someone else if New Line balks later on. The time to go agent callin’ is when the script is done.

  Q.—I have an extended short film I wrote, directed, produced, and edited, which was shown at a few of the smaller film festivals. Audiences seemed to like it, but now I can’t get any agents to look at it. I sent out tapes more than a month ago and don’t have a single response. What can I do?

  A.—Be patient. Without the heat of winning a major film festival, a response can and most likely will take a couple of months. Agents have a pecking order for material, and it helps to think like Hollywood. First priority is given to the major motion picture from a big studio . . . then to the independent successful film . . . then big television . . . then the good art or festival film . . . then the bad one . . . then bad television . . . finally, schlock movies to bring up the rear. Sounds like your project rates between the good and bad festival film. When good agents finish chasing or pushing everything higher up on the food chain, that’s when you’ll hear from them. Until then, keep writing, while remaining confident that there is a twisted method to the madness.

  Q.—What should I tell an agent in a query letter? Is getting an agent better than placing well in a screenwriting contest?

  A.—Placing well in a screenwriting contest is a good way to generate interest from an agent. Barring that option, your query letter should include a one- or two-sentence pitch of the script you wish considered. Education, credits, and relevant experience can all help the cause. That stated, query letters face long odds because most agents receive hundreds and sometimes thousands of them each year. Many writers have better success cold-calling and pitching targeted agents via the Hollywood Agents and Managers Directory (www.hcdonline.com). K. Callan’s book The Script Is Finished, Now What Do I Do? is also a big help. The secret to cold-calling is to make your call during lunch hours, when the agent and his or her assistant are away enjoying their nine-dollar mixed green salad. Simply leave your name and number. Don’t offer much further information that could allow an agent the option of not returning the call, as in “Hi, this is Jerry Daumer. I’m a shut-in from Nebraska and I just finished my very first screenplay. It’s a spec about the joys of befriending cattle and I hope you’ll take a look. Call me!” Since agents are in the relationship business and never know when a deep-pocketed would-be producer may call, they eventually answer all messages. Generally, at the very least, the assistant will return your call and you can be ready with your pitch, hoping to receive an “Okay, send it” response.

  Q.—I’m not happy with my agent. Should I be contacting other agents now, or should I wait until after I show my new project to my present agent? I hear it’s easier to get an agent when you have one than when you don’t.

  A.—Assuming that your unhappiness stems from results to date and not personality issues, start calling the current agent once a week after he’s had two weeks to read your script. Meanwhile, look for a new agent as soon as the two weeks are up. (Some writers like a clean break, so they would rather take charge and fire said agent beforehand.) Honestly, I think it’s six of one, and half a dozen of the other, since any agent worth his ten percent will mainly care about your track record of working with people he’s heard of or knows, the dollar amount of the deals you’ve done, or absent the first two, placing in well-known competitions. If all of these are not to be had, then a dynamite pitch can still deliver you to the Promised Land. Since query letters are a waste 99 percent of the time (agents rarely gain anything by reading them, while valuable time is lost for serving existing, earning clients), the key is to get out your Agents and Managers directory and phone the agents. In the past, I was able to get some A-list agents or their assistants to return my calls. Remember that most assistants are only six months from becoming agents themselves. Your message should be sparse but not cryptic: “This is Fran Savage calling regarding my project Gerbils of the Mojave. Reach me at 555–4355.” Then write your eight-second premise and ninety-second pitch onto an index card. Tape the card to the wall over the phone (or to your forehead, if you are particularly forgetful like me), and be ready to rock when the phone rings, usually between 6:00 and 7:00 p.m. West Coast time (the time when many agents deal with any business they’re not sure about).

  Q.—What does it mean to be a pocket client?

  A.—Most agents have as many as a couple of dozen “pocket clients” for whom they expend minimal energy. Such clients are beginning directors and writers who have no professional track record but who show promise, often in the form of a gritty, compelling student film or a screenplay that is tough to market. Becoming a pocket client is relatively easy: Place well (quarter-finalist or better) in a major competition, and an agent will be inclined to read your work. Plow through your trusty Hollywood Agents and Managers Directory (www.hcdonline.com), and then cast your net wide enough to make the connection.

  Q.—I’m a published novelist, not a screenwriter, but I’m in the rather sad position now of being a pocket client for an agent at ICM—though I’m not sure yet whether it’s pocket-client limbo or hell yet. I sent him the first 100 pages of a new project a couple weeks ago, but have yet to hear from him (in fairness, I’m sure he’s got more pressing things). Any suggestions for getting out of pocket?

  A.—If the new project is a novel, submit a complete manuscript. Crumbs of the bread only work for agents who show interest in being part of the developmental process. Apparently, your agent isn’t sending such a signal. If you have a completed script, you can show initiative as well as your understanding of the business by tracking down suitable producers and pitching them. Pass along promising leads and budding relationships to your agent for follow-up. Don’t pass along wild-goose chases. Agents are motivated by dollars and deals, and it is hard to move out of pocket status without them.

  Q.—The agent I have been conversing with indicated that she has forwarded my scripts (TV shows) to the contacts I provided her with at NBC and Bochco Productions. Would it be okay to send her a thank-you note?

  A.—That’s exactly the right thing to do. Send it ASAP, and if possible, include some direct reference to your most recent conversation in order to personalize the note. All the small talk at the start of the conversation and all the small gestures are really about establishing that you get along with each other on a personal level that will fit nicely with a long-term professional relationship.

  Q.—I submitted a project to an agent about three weeks ago. Is it okay to follow up with a submission by calling? If so (I know I shouldn’t ask if she has checked it out, as it is not professional, or so I have read), what kind of question should I ask?

  A.—Two and a half to three weeks is the proper waiting period. You should call and say that you are writer X who submitted script Y on [date] and are calling “to follow up.” The assistant and agent will take it from there. If that call doesn’t receive a returned call response (you may get voice mail or get put on a call sheet), wait ten days and make another call. As long as you remain professional, the agent will eventually get to you.

  ATTACHING TALENT TO YOUR PROJECT

  Q.—I have written a script whose protagonist was inspired by a B-list actor. When an agent agrees to represent it, is i
t all right to request the script be sent to this particular actor’s production company?

  A.—An agent probably won’t be eager to forward the script to a B-list actor because in most cases, attaching such an actor to your project prior to financing won’t help a movie get made. Sadly, few execs or directors get hot under the collar just because Tom Arnold or Emilio Estevez or Jim Belushi is on board. Further, most agents will feel that such a name encumbers them from going after A-list talent. The logic is, go for Tom Cruise, settle for Vince Vaughn, as opposed to, go for Vince Vaughn, settle for Kirk Cameron. Many fine B- and C-list actors get work simply because more-established box office draws are unavailable.

  That stated, if what you have in mind is a $2-million straight-to-video flick, landing Michael Keaton or Robert Downey Jr. just might be the ticket. Just have your Visa or checkbook ready for such a cash-and-carry deal.

  SHORT FILMS

  Q.—I’m eighteen and an aspiring writer. I was wondering about your opinion on short scripts (for short films). Do you think that is a good practice for screenwriting?

  A.—Short scripts are the early years of film school in a nutshell. The key is to write material that you can shoot yourself on hi-8, digital, VHS, etc. You’ll be stunned how different things look and sound going from script to screen. For example, what works on the page doesn’t always translate well visually, and some things that seem to be throwaways can suddenly leap out on the screen. Writing short films will help you see that.

  Q.—I made a “quality” independent film for $24,000 that got some attention, but the only offer I received was for a straight-to-video horror movie. Is this a slap in the face?

  A.—One of my award-winning but decidedly non-studio scripts landed me a studio assignment at Miramax for a horror movie called The Hellseeker, as well as a modest option on the “quality” piece. An unfortunate reality of Hollywood is that the industry will make dozens of Chuckie movies for every Dead Poets’ Society they option. That’s what audiences pay to see. So there’s no shame in paying one’s mortgage by virtue of one’s craft and hard-fought experience. Spend enough time in Hollywood and you will learn this valuable lesson.

  ANSWERING TOUGH QUESTIONS

  Q.—I’ve been working at becoming a full-time writer for five years now. I’ve had some options on my work and near-misses. What do I tell people who ask, “What have you done that I’ve seen?”

  A.—Studios produce one movie for every twelve they purchase. I know of one writer who has worked steadily for twenty-five years. None of his work has made it to the screen as a solo credit, so he writes and directs plays on the side. When writers get the so-what-movies-have-you-done, it’s usually from people outside of the business, since fellow industry people inside usually ask, “So, what are you working on?” Unless you know the other person well, your answer is the same for both: “I’m in the hunt on several projects, so I have to be patient and let the process run its course.” Follow the response with a Zen-like silence that puts the question back with the inquisitor. Those who don’t mean well will beat a hasty retreat at this point—fearful that you have pegged their uncharitable motives, or afraid that they don’t know anything about the “the process.” Others will then ask, “What are you in the hunt for?” At this point, you can say, “I’m waiting for a response from Universal or director X or actor Y.” Many times, the person will then say something like “Wow! Then I better get your autograph now!” Said person will walk away excited that you shared an interesting tidbit.

  COLLABORATION

  Q.—I’m forming a tight-knit screenwriting group. Including myself, the group will be made up of five highly imaginative individuals sharing the obsession to succeed as Hollywood screenwriters and the knowledge of how to work as a team. The concept is simple. Four other individuals will bring their screenplays to the table and then we’ll decide, one by one, which projects to focus on and complete. We’ll try to sell the completed screenplays as a team. Hopefully, we’ll complete work faster and cover the market better due to our teamwork. What do you think?

  A.—Collaboration is a very powerful tool. There are some major caveats, however, as exemplified by the following cautionary tale: A few years ago, a pair of writers worked out a first draft of a promising premise. The result garnered some meetings but went no further. Two years later, one of the writers had left the business, and the other revamped the script with an established producer. Several drafts later, the result bore little resemblance to the original, although the basic premise was still the same. Suddenly, every major studio and production company wanted the project, but the rights couldn’t be worked out. The original co-writer surfaced, demanding a big pay day. Meanwhile, the producer saw himself as the logical co-partner. The end result was costly litigation while the project remains in limbo. Bottom line: Collaboration works well when the relationships are long established. Otherwise, let the collaborator beware.

  FILM SCHOOL

  Q.—I am an eighteen-year-old high school senior, and desperately wish to pursue a career in screenwriting and film directing. What should I study in college?

  A.—I was an English and American History double major in college and didn’t specialize in screenwriting until grad school, where I earned an MFA in Film, with Screenwriting as my specialty. In my opinion, it’s important to balance film study with knowledge of outside fields, so that you avoid the trap of writing movies about other movies. That’s fine for Tarantino, but not for most of us. I believe in casting wide your net of personal development to ensure a unique perspective about the world. Not a script goes by that I don’t make use of my understanding of psychology, mythology, biology, world literature, biblical references, etc.

  Other advice I can give is to see everything, from the worst movies to the classics. In film school, I saw an average of 250 films a year, which was and is the basis of my cinematic lexicon. Aim for half that number as an undergrad. Also, invest in a video or hi-8 camera and begin chronicling your experiences visually by making short movies. Directors such as Spielberg, M. Night Shyamalan (The Sixth Sense), and Bryan Singer (X-Men) started this practice very early on.

  PRODUCERS

  Q.—A producer liked one of my screenplays, but said the script needed work. I diligently did draft after draft without compensation or a contract, then last week the producer dropped out. He said he had other projects on his plate and couldn’t devote any more time to do the script justice. What just happened?

  A.—Interest you received in your project shows it has merit. I suspect that the premise was promising but the execution was problematic. Subsequent drafts may not have improved the situation enough to warrant the producer’s continued efforts. On the other hand, some producers have dozens of projects going at one time. Inevitably, some good work gets lost in the shuffle. Remember that a time line and the ticking bomb are key elements for a good script. So take a page from your own work and establish reasonable time lines on the business side. If you feel you’ve delivered the goods and a producer doesn’t get it together by such-and-such date, you’re outta there. As a case in point, a rising producer put me on the free-draft merry-go-round when I first arrived in town. Twice around and I got off. I still see the producer around, and we’re still friendly, but the producer knows I don’t go for pie-in-the-sky schemes, so he doesn’t waste my time. On the other hand, he knows I’m a good writer. If he ever gets some serious cash to develop a script, I’ll be on the short list. It might take ten years, but that’s fine.

  Q.—Are most, if not all, screenplay sales handled by the Writers Guild of America in Hollywood? Is it possible to sell a screenplay without Guild intervention when dealing with lower budgets?

  A.—The WGA doesn’t “handle” screenplay sales. They simply have set guidelines for producers and writers who are Guild signatories. Most producers of low-budget films are not members of the Guild, so you can make any deal you like with these companies. Check out any of the books by Mark Litwak, as well as Clause By Clau
se by Stephen Breimer and The Writer Got Screwed (But Didn’t Have To), for deal tips.

  PROTECTING MATERIAL

  Q.—I have a short film that I think would make a great feature movie. How do I protect the idea from being stolen if I send tapes of the film around?

  A.—You can register the underlying screenplay of your short film with either the U.S. Copyright Office or the Writers Guild of America. However, be aware that material pilfering is a common occurrence in Hollywood. It generally doesn’t happen in the blatant way most people think. In fact, most “borrowing” is inadvertent. For example, my wife and I were on a plane. The in-flight film was a silly one that I had pitched repeatedly (as an assignment) to a studio. Plot elements and characters from my pitch were right there on the screen. My stomach was in knots for the rest of the day. I know exactly how it happened. Exec listened to dozens of pitches over the course of a month or two. Exec then hired one that fit the bill a little more than the others. During the subsequent normal course of script development, Exec said, “Suppose this happened [in the story] . . .” Exec honestly believed that he was coming up with something off the top of his head when in fact he was thinking of an element (mine) from one of dozens of pitches three months before that he no longer consciously remembered. Most professional screenwriters learn to roll with it, realizing that they, too, are probably the unwitting recipients of such help. All this is to say that you should understand the nature of the beast before deciding on what is the appropriate remedy for your problem. A lawyer may protect the material (registration with WGA also gives recourse), but will not advance the cause.

  QUESTIONS ABOUT THE CRAFT

  Q.—What’s a treatment? How do you write a good one?