Breakfast with Sharks Read online

  A.—A good treatment should read like an exciting play-by-play (or blow-by-blow) description of the story with a bit of color commentary thrown in. Treatments will be different lengths depending on usage: eight to ten pages for a script you are pitching (don’t leave the written treatment behind after a pitch); ten to thirty pages to flesh out a detailed storyline in preparation for going to script; three to four pages for a synopsis.

  One of my first experiences in Hollywood involved the excruciating task of boiling a fifteen-page treatment down to a three-page synopsis for a high-level producer. I struggled for three days to get it down to four and a half, which wasn’t good enough. Afterwards, the assistant told me that I wasn’t ready for prime time because I couldn’t follow instructions. So the moral of the story is the right treatment for the right usage.

  Q.—I just attended a seminar where the term “high concept” was mentioned a couple times. Nowadays, what does it mean?

  A.—Nowadays, not so much. Heyday for HC was the early eighties to the early nineties, although producer Jerry Bruckheimer is still sort of a keeper of the flame for “movie concepts that can be written on a match cover,” (the HC definition for HC), e.g., “Jaws in space” (Alien) or “Diehard on a bus” ( Speed). About five years ago, producers started realizing that such high-concept fare was getting a bit inbred and predictable. In contemporary Hollywood, writers are more apt to deliver concepts that are “short pitchable.” A short pitch is a premise that can be delivered in three to four sentences.

  Q.—I’m trying to think up a good story for a short World War II movie I intend to self-finance and produce myself. Suggestions?

  A.—The key challenge to writing successful historical material is making it relevant to today. For example, Saving Private Ryan tapped into the sixtieth anniversary of the war by depicting a man as he is now and the life he has built, contrasted with the man he was and the sacrifices made by many others for him. Creating fleshed-out, complex characters is also critical. A few years ago, I was assigned to write a biopic of Muhammad Ali’s boxing coach at the 1960 Olympics in Rome. The producer wanted to place the coach on a pedestal for hero worship, which unfortunately doomed the project. So show us warts and all. Another challenge is making the material exciting and unexpected—viewers don’t like to feel they’re in school and being lectured to, especially when they already know the outcome. A film like Patton is successful because it got beyond predictability and legend-made-of-stone. Same goes for Amadeus . You can easily imagine how both of these films could have been marble monument movies. So I think the keys to a successful project are contemporary relevance, solid characterization, and unpredictability.

  Q.—Professional screenwriters who evaluated my work described it the same way: “quirky, edgy, quirky.” Are there any producers, managers, or agents who even consider “quirky, edgy, quirky”?

  A.—“Quirky” and “edgy” are generic catchalls used by producers, execs, and agents. Such vague terms have a slightly negative connotation more often than not—quirky sometimes meaning small, and edgy meaning outside of the Hollywood style. A big however, though, is that a reader who gets your writing and sensibility will see these two qualities as strengths: quirky meaning personal and edgy meaning unique, breaking the rules. As you can see, such valuations are highly subjective. It’s kinda like Tex-Mex food—too out there for some, too spicy for others. However, if you have a fan (and there are many), they will be really passionate. Rogue agents and producers dream about finding quirky, edgy material. Fade In magazine just came out with its annual list of “100 Influential People in Hollywood to Know.” Many are up-and-coming agents and producers who think outside the box of conventional material. Cross-reference this list with your Agents and Managers and Hollywood Creative Directory and track these people down.

  Q.—In your opinion, what is the biggest mistake you can make in a script?

  A.—Avoid the “giant talking heads” syndrome—long, theatrical speeches where there is no visual momentum. That is the true mark of an amateur. Audiences like to be shown, not told. Screenwriters should always keep in mind that film is a visual medium.

  Q.—What are some of your duties and responsibilities in the movie development process?

  A.—Screenwriters take interesting ideas or events and flesh them out into complete, visual stories with interesting characters. The stories are structured in such a way that actors and directors, etc., can transform them into film.

  Q.—I finished my first original screenplay. It’s a hundred pages. Should I make it longer, or is it fine?

  A.—First off, congrats. Completing your first screenplay is really an accomplishment, so you should celebrate. Unless the script is low-budget (under $3 million) in which page length is a key financial consideration or is something you intend to direct yourself, 100 pages is a little thin (short). Most studio scripts come in at around 108–120 pages. In any case, you should first give your script to five trusted, non-producer or exec readers for their reactions (fellow writers, best friend, high school English teacher, film school professor, Aunt Ellie the librarian and movie buff, etc.). They can give you constructive criticism and notes, along with encouragement. Then you should submit the revised script to various competitions— Nicholl, Chesterfield, Sundance, Worldfest, Disney, etc. Making the quarter-finals isn’t very hard, and many producers and agents will at least read the logline of your script (on the application you fill out). If they like what they read, they’ll come looking for you. A friend who is a successful writer/producer with a movie and two TV series under her belt owes her career to placing top 250 in the Chesterfield.

  Q.—What are the most important qualities that would be useful to a writer?

  A.—You should be self-motivated, observant, detail-oriented, visually inclined, and like words and wordplay. In film school, I saw between 250 and 300 films a year, so it helps to like movies. A lot.

  BUSINESS QUESTIONS

  Q.—A production company has offered me an option on my script, but I’ve already heard that the first-time director they’re working with wants to rewrite my draft. I don’t know anything about the guy. What do you think I should do?

  A.—There’s the old joke about the screenwriter and the producer wandering the desert in search of water when they come upon an oasis. The writer drops to his hands and knees and is about to drink, when he hears a trickle beside him. He looks up to see the producer urinating in the water. “What are you doing????” he screams. “Making it better,” the producer replies.

  If the option is financially lucrative or the prodco is well established, there may not be anything you can do but grin and bear it and hope the changes will be minimal. Consult with your management to see if there’s a way you can be kept on the project, perhaps as an associate or executive producer. Or offer a low-cost polish as part of your terms of contract. Barring these options, you pretty much have to just hope for the best. I feel your pain.

  Some directors can write, but many, particularly first-timers, have never actually written a feature film script. That lots of things can go wrong when people start pulling apart the script doesn’t seem to deter them. It takes years of practice to link words together to create characters and images that form stories with meaning. So even when the error is very small, most directors and producers don’t have the necessary craft to fix it. Often what you get are ham-fisted attempts and clichéd elements tacked on. The creative, original stories that drew interest in the first place get flattened out and burdened with elements boosted from the current crop of successful movies.

  I always look for project developers who don’t presume to know how to write so they don’t try, but they seem to be few and far between.

  Q.—Is the screenwriting business really as bad as I keep reading? Not in terms of the odds of selling, but in the treatment of screenwriters?

  A.—Mistreatment of screenwriters is a relative thing; you have to balance tremendous financial and creative rewards with treme
ndous disappointments and frustrations. TV writers do seem to be accorded more respect and are given many, many perks by the studios. For many of us, the trade-off is the medium (TV vs. the Big Screen). It’s easy to get caught up in the my agent/my producer/the director/ the exec/the system blame game. Early on, I decided that my success or failure in the business needed to be squarely on my own shoulders. That realization has made a big difference.

  Q.—What are some basic things a writer should avoid doing? For example, a producer told me, “Avoid writing stories about writers. Producers kind of roll their eyes with that.”

  A.—Never wear a suit to a meeting. Never bad-mouth someone else’s work or projects. Avoid writing spoofs on the industry if you’re not a Hollywood insider. Never send a producer (even when they beg) a script until you’re sure it’s rock-solid and the best it can be.

  THE INTERNET

  Q.—A friend has enjoyed some success with pitching and selling his script on the Internet. Depending on the site, can the Internet be a good way for a script to gain exposure?

  A.—The Internet can be a great tool, if you adhere to the watch-words of “listen but verify.” That is, protect your work and check credentials. Gocoverage.com is legit and gets notice, but you have to pay a small fee. Otherwise, I still think the various established competitions are best for gaining exposure to the industry while building bona fide credits.

  FOREIGN MARKETS

  Q.—Do other countries, such as England and Canada, pay similar fees for screenplays? Is it worth pursuing international production companies?

  A.—Many films are financed via foreign money. Since Hollywood is the premier market for screenplays, studios here pay a premium price for scripts. So you can anticipate that a foreign company will pay less. Since these companies buy fewer projects, however, your chances of having your work produced are much greater.

  LIFESTYLE ISSUES

  Q.—What is a typical day like in the life of a screenwriter?

  A.—Most writers have very personalized daily routines and sometimes bizarre rituals. I get up early, about 6:00 a.m. (Ernest Hemingway used to get up at four). I eat breakfast, read the newspaper and the trade papers, then read and respond to my e-mail until about 7:30. Answering reader and colleague e-mail kinda gets my juices flowing to write. Then, I put on earphones, fire up an ambient CD like Holst’s The Planets or the soundtrack for Thin Red Line or Field of Dreams, then take a look at yesterday’s work, make necessary changes (lots of them), and plunge into the next set of pages (90 percent of which is done directly on the computer). I write in two-hour stretches, with bathroom, drink, and lunch breaks in between. I’ll take a late-morning break for phone calls, but if I’m on a deadline, then I don’t answer the phone. Usually I can manage two to four writing stretches per day. Much more than that and I start to get cranky. On days when I don’t have pitch or story meetings with producers or at the studio, I take the day’s pages to the gym and ride an exercise bike while making stream-of-consciousness-type changes. I write six days a week, sometimes seven.

  Q.—None of the professors who taught screenwriting in my university film program were actual professional screenwriters. As a working writer, what are some of the downsides of your job?

  A.—Fighting the urge to drink Drano every time a script gets rejected or a deal doesn’t go through—just kidding, you get used to it (rejection, not Drano). It takes about ten years for most writers to develop any sort of job security. Scripts take anywhere from two months to a year to complete. Meanwhile, the average Hollywood movie takes three to four years to go from script to screen. Only about one in twelve studio scripts make it through. So the enemy of screenwriters is time. But if you love movies and love to write, there’s no better profession.

  Q.—What is the average salary of people in your field?

  A.—Some writers make millions (but generally not gazillions like actors, etc.). However, the average working Writers Guild member makes about $86,000 per year. The minimum price paid for a studio feature film screenplay is about $70,000. Most writers can do about two projects per year. But we really don’t have salaries because we’re paid per project.

  Q.—What are some jobs related to movie writing?

  A.—Sitcom writer, TV writer, Internet series or game designer/ writer, novelist and teaching screenwriting at the college level. Copy-writing for advertising is a distant cousin. Some screenwriters are also directors and producers.

  AUXILIARY MATERIALS

  Q.—If I carry business cards with my picture on them, then offer them to people I am talking with at seminars and workshops, would this be seen as inappropriate?

  A.—Nix the pix, but carry a card with your e-mail address, etc. Nothing too elaborate, since, in general, the more successful the writer, the sparser the business card—the ultimate result being a writer who no longer carries a card. Gunslingers who come armed with a bandolier of easy-to-pitch loglines or a reel of clips from their completed projects do the best at meet-and-greets. For example, I currently have four active projects—all different genres—plus another that recently concluded with the studio hiring another writer (the drama!). I came up with a sixty-second “greatest hits medley” of concepts and hooks that I deliver like a verbal grenade (the tone being, “If I told you more, the resulting explosion might kill us all!”).

  The bottom line is that the work is the real jewel. Your sparkling personality, scorching appearance, whiplike wit, etc., are the black velvet box that showcase the gems of your craft. Execs, producers, and agents prefer to read the script, then want to meet the writer or director.

  To conclude, if you’re already standing there talking to the exec, producer, or agent, then the captivating pitch (really just a stand-in until they read the script) is all-important.

  23

  SECTION 612: RESOURCE LIST

  TOP TEN FILM FESTIVALS

  At this writing, there are more than 600 film festivals worldwide. The Ultimate Film Festival Guide by Chris Gore is the bible for anyone interested in independent film. You can also check out www.filmfestivals.com for up-to-the-minute news and information on festival happenings.

  What follows is contact information for the top ten festivals as listed in The Ultimate Film Festival Guide:

  SUNDANCE

  www.sundance.org

  P.O. Box 3630

  Salt Lake City, UT 84110-3630

  California Office:

  8857 West Olympic Blvd., Suite 200

  Beverly Hills, CA 90211-3605

  Phone: (310) 360-1981

  Applications at: https://festival.sundance.org/2004CallForEntries/application.aspx

  Festival date: January

  Film submission deadlines:

  August 1: Early submissions of features and shorts

  (Early submission deadline is for American and international; dramatic and documentary features and all short films. Films submitted during this time will be granted a discount submission fee. For early-submission deadline the festival will be accepting completed films only, no rough cuts or works in progress.)

  September 12: American short films, international short films, and all Sundance Online Film Festival applicants.

  October 3: All Features.

  TORONTO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL

  www.e.bell.ca/filmfest

  2 Carlton Street, Suite 1600

  Toronto, Ontario M5B IJ3

  Phone: (416) 967-7371

  Festival date: September

  Entry date: June (international features)

  CANNES

  www.festival-cannes.fr

  Association Française du Festival

  International du Film

  99 Boulevard Malesherbes

  75008 Paris

  Phone: 33-1-1-4561-6600

  Festival date: May

  Entry date: March

  BERLIN FILM FESTIVAL

  www.berlinale.de/

  Internationale Film Fest Piele Berlin

  Abteilung Progra
mm

  Potsdamer Strasse 5

  Berlin D-10785

  Phone: 49-30-259-20-444

  Festival date: February

  Entry deadline: Late November

  SXSW: SOUTH BY SOUTHWEST FILM FESTIVAL

  www.sxsw.com

  1000 East 40th Street

  Austin, TX 78751

  Phone: (512) 467-7979

  Festival date: March

  Entry deadline: Early: mid-November; late: early December

  TELLURIDE

  www.telluridefilmfestival.com

  379 State Street, # 3

  Portsmouth, New Hampshire 03801

  Phone: (603) 433-9206

  Festival date: August–September

  Entry deadline: July

  CHICAGO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL

  www.chicagofilmfestival.com

  32 West Randolph Street, Suite 600

  Chicago, Il 60601-9803

  Phone: (312) 425-9400

  Festival date: October

  Entry deadline: early August

  FLORIDA FILM FESTIVAL

  www.floridafilmfest.com

  1300 South Orlando Avenue

  Maitland, FL 32751

  Phone: (407) 629-8587; (407) 629-1088

  Festival date: June

  Entry deadlines: Early submission deadline, February; late submission,

  deadline, March

  SLAMDANCE

  www.slamdance.com

  5526 Hollywood Boulevard

  Los Angeles, CA 90028

  Phone: (323) 466-1786

  Festival date: January

  Entry deadline: Early submission deadline, October; late submission

  deadline, November

  CINEQUEST: THE SAN JOSE FILM FESTIVAL