Friday, November 21, 2008

Nobody Includes Me

THE GREAT WILLIAM GOLDMAN famously opined that in Hollywood, "nobody knows anything."

So I wonder why I'm surprised by being surprised by this:

ABC made a flurry of midseason programming announcements Thursday, including ordering more episodes of "Life on Mars" and deciding against picking up "Pushing Daisies," "Dirty Sexy Money" and "Eli Stone" for a full season.


I'll skip the usual eulogy I have -- and that sick feeling of knife to the heart -- any time an interesting or original show like Daisies (which I admit I didn't return to this year after hearing from people that it wasn't as good as last year) and Eli Stone, and say that though the Dirty Sexy Money move is hardly surprising -- so is the vote of confidence in Life on Mars.

I always thought the show was too out there to work on a U.S. network. I stopped watching after Ep 3 convinced me they were going to go too watered down to be true to the material. (that ep had a gay subplot where even the 'homophobic' officers weren't so terrible about the killing of a gay guy -- this, supposedly less than five years after Stonewall in NYC. Uh uh. No sale. If you're gonna be PC 21st century, what's the point?) I also am disappointed that Harvey Keitel isn't more like his character in Bad Lieutenant. I mean, he's a sock compared to Philip Gleinister in the original.

But not only are they giving it more eps, they're putting it on after LOST in January.

I don't get it. I really don't.

...and that almost makes me a little bit hopeful.

Funny that.

Own The Language, Own The Story: The "Town Hall" Edition

FURROWED BROWS. SOFT AD MARKETS. 110 INCH TV's. Whoops, sorry.

Point is, you likely won't be going out much this holiday season, at least to company sponsored events. In fact, some of you are likely to be sent home from work on a more permanent basis. So, based on the last few days, let's practice the hot new Broadcaster Jargon, and apply it in context:

Town Hall Meeting - once beloved of politicians, the new "town hall" is an "all hands on deck" gathering where the bosses scare the living shit out of you by declaring that you're probably toast.


If you're going to take the pain out of that phrase, you have to own it.

Scene:

A dark bar. Wood paneling. candlelit tables, Rolling Stones playing BG. SHE: sitting at the bar. HE: other side of the bar. Eye contact, on and off, about thirty minutes worth. He sidles up to her.

HE:

"So, I couldn't help but notice your concern. I'd like to invite you to a town hall meeting...back at my place."

Or...

A Grocery. SHE comes out of Aisle two and heads for the YOUNG BUCK checking for bruised fruit.

SHE:

"How are the peaches today?"

HE:

"Not bad, I guess."

SHE:

"This bad economic news really has me freaked."

HE:

"Me too."

SHE:

"Hey, listen. You wanna have a town hall?"

HE:

"A town hall for two?"

SHE:

"Why not?"

He replaces the peaches.

Or, finally:

A TTC Bus. Two FRAT BOY types.

FRAT BOY:

"Dude, you know that waitress last night?"

FRAT BOY2:

"Yah. S'up?"

FRAT BOY:

"I totally town halled that."

They go 'up high.' Everyone else squirms in their seats. The Dow drops 1000 points.

How Much is that Weapons System in the Window?

I DON'T EVEN know what that title means. Didn't get a lot of sleep last night.

The Podcast is up from yesterday's Q. Listen to Tara Thorne and I as we break down the thorny issue of Product Placement. It's about halfway through, directly after the interview with "Branded Entertainment" expert Jak Severson from Madison Road Entertainment.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Shoes Dropping

OKAY, OKAY, WE KNOW. The sky is falling.

But if you're a purveyor of scripted TeeVee ware, maybe that's not all a bad thing. From the L.A. Times' ShowTracker column:

Is the recession driving viewers away from reality programming?

There has been so much chatter about politics and the economic meltdown on TV this fall that it's obscured another reality: Some of the networks' biggest unscripted series have been sinking in the ratings.

Now, it could be argued that all of network TV is down. But virtually all of the series that have shown improvement this fall are scripted shows. Among them: NBC's "30 Rock" (up 23%), the CW's "Gossip Girl" (20%) and CBS' "Ghost Whisperer" (8%) and "How I Met Your Mother" (12%).

So, what's up?

Part of the explanation is TV's natural aging process. Many of the reality shows currently on network schedules are, not to put too fine a point on it, old. "Survivor" is in its 17th cycle, an eternity given that TV lifespans roughly approximate dog years.

And what about that economy? Well, hard times may not have any direct effect on what people choose to watch. But there's little doubt that during times of upheaval, viewers' tastes can shift. For example, the deep recession of the early 1980s may have created a fertile environment for the success of nighttime soaps about the treacheries of the rich and infamous, such as "Dynasty" and "Dallas."

Thus, at the outset of what looks to be another deep recession, the sudden success of once-suffering comedies such as "30 Rock" and "Mother" is striking. As the Dow continues to spiral down and jobs dry up, viewers may have decided that their everyday lives already contain more reality than they can bear.

There is opportunity here. Traditionally, as people retrench, stay home, spend less, maybe they do look for other things. Six months from now, maybe all those "the sitcom is dead" articles will look silly.

You have Canadian networks pre-freaking while their bottom lines are still robust - talking layoffs, expense cuts, the sky is falling -- and blaming the CRTC not giving them free money. Next will be the predictable demands to be let out of doing their (already minimal) Canadian Content.

What if someone stepped up?

We need a content Warren Buffet. Stat. Grow a pair, lock and load, and try to put something on the air that makes people's lives a little more enjoyable. Out of panic can come opportunity.

Apparently people are looking for, you know...distractions.

The Tyranny of 'Why.'

SO AS I alluded to the other day, a return to development means questioning a whole bunch of stuff about how you work and how to focus a new concept. Luckily, that means being able to have conversations with smart people.

One of those smart people is the Producer who I'm working with on one of my development projects. Al Magee has been praised elsewhere, so let's dispense with that one right off the bat. A few weeks ago, we're having a meeting about this project, and after I talked in circles for a little while, Al said something that I found unbelievably trenchant:

The Brits used to make movies about "what happened." The Americans make movies about "what happens next." And we tend to get pushed into movies about "why it happened." Which as box office shows - nobody really gives a shit about.
What happened. What happens next. Why it happened. Three simple phrases.

Two of them can lead to pretty good, or even great -- films and TV shows.

But the "Why..." The Why will kill you every time.

Canadian TV is forever about the why. Most of the time you will spend in a meeting with the network, they will want to talk about 'the why.' What you're saying, why the characters are doing this and that. We employ freelance 'story editors' on film, and even development TV projects. And if they've been raised under the Canadian system and they're doing their Telefilm best, they'll steer you clearly toward the shoals of "Why it happened." In the unlikely event that you do manage to score a scintilla of press coverage for a show, you're probably going to get asked questions about the why, and most creators who get a show will blather about the why given half a chance.

It's all specactularly wrongheaded.

Why?

(Oh come on, you knew that was coming.)

Before I unpack why 'Why it happened' leads us down a bad road, let's examine the reasons why the Canadian system has evolved that way (and for those who aren't Canadian, this is still instructive if you're a newbie writer because a lot of newbies play this game too):

1) The Desire for 'Cultural Importance.'

Many Canadian TV shows and movies, traditionally, have been developed by people who look at the dominant U.S. culture and find it wanting. They want to do shows that look as slick as U.S. shows but have "higher aspirations." That's why you couldn't swing a Dead Cat in a Development Pitch at a network a few years back without hearing "Six Feet Under." It's why FLASHPOINT getting on CBS is the most important thing everrrr... and why the P.R. for that show goes to great pains to point out how a straight-up CBS procedural is very different from U.S. cop shows.

Sometimes the people wielding the power in these situations are Producers who chafed under the industrial model, where U.S. creative would come up here and boss all the Canadian Line Producers around. One day, they vowed, we will do better.

Writers, too, usually see the writing on the wall. Those who want to sign up for the 'loftier sell' stick around, and those who have a more 'commercial bent' -- traditionally -- have lit out for L.A. at the first opportunity.

I could get into a cultural sidebar here and point out that every person I've ever met who talks about wanting to 'do better' than the U.S. culture generally reveal the more they talk, the less they really understand about the United States or Americans, and also how they fold in some pretty elitist ideas about Canadians, too...but that's a digression too far this morning.

The Desire for Cultural Importance is one of the main reasons why an actual, very Canadian show that's a huge worldwide success -- Stargate -- is never mentioned in the press here as a Canadian show. Even though ALL the key creative behind it are, in fact, Canadian.

It's also why everybody gets skittish about praising Trailer Park Boys. Look at Rob Salem having to defend his praise for the show in the Toronto Star because of 'outraged readers.'

Notice that both Stargate and Trailer Park Boys are shows that actually draw a dedicated audience. A measurable one, I mean. They have actual 'fans.'

The disconnect between shows that people watch and shows that fulfill the Desire for Cultural Importance is key.

2) The Government in the System

Telefilm, the CTF, all public funding of TeeVee and Flim requires you to blather on and on in documents about what this project does to further Canadian culture. Bureaucrats like reading about how this show will explain Canada to Canadians. The "Why," then, becomes the most important thing in the project to secure your fundings. The more time you spend talking about the why, the more it feeds back into the DNA of it. Why is also an easy thing for people to talk about. It's way easier to talk why than to talk story or character, because that discussion requires some level of craft or writing knowledge.

This pear-shaped discussion process leads to meetings where people tell comedy writers, "oh, we know it will be funny, but we want to talk about the heart," as if nailing the funny was the easiest thing in the world. And as if people tuned in to shows to see 'the heart.'

3) Unfamilarity with the Medium

There are a whole lot of people who make TV in this country who don't watch TeeVee. And a whole lot of people who make films who only see films at Film Festivals -- which is not how 90% of the viewing audience sees them.

The Tyranny of "Why this Happened," separates the makers of filmed entertainment from the consumers of filmed entertainment. It's one of the big reasons why so many shows fail to find an audience.

Why Why Sucks:

Tell me if this happens to you. Last week, watching a TV program with my Dad, I quietly endured the usual outbursts. My dad likes to try and 'figure things out.' In the opening scenes of a show, if a mystery is set up, my Dad will spend the next fifteen minutes saying, "he did it," or "I think it's her" or, sometimes, "they're related." -- whatever it is. Point is he's trying to figure out the mystery.

It doesn't matter that he's almost always wrong. The truth is that the only difference between my father and everybody else is that, um, he doesn't use his internal voice. We're all trying to figure things out all the time. That's how we derive pleasure from watching a show. In a comedy, we laugh out of anticipation, and then we laugh again out of surprise when it goes somewhere different from where we think it's going. In drama, one of the reasons why procedurals are so popular is that desire to figure out why. The reason why they're satisfying and hold our attention is because most people try to figure it out, and delight when they can't. That's what keeps them watching.

In both cases, what do you notice about people? They're not the monolithic couch potatoes they're supposed to be. They're engaged in the process. They're trying to imbue meaning, and their search for that meaning is the thing that makes them like the show. LOST is entertaining because we all try to figure out the mystery, and never quite get there.

Marshall McLuhan famously deconstructed his visions of media, and described TV as a 'cool' medium, meaning that we need to do more work to extract meaning from it. That, in fact, is the point.

The problem with making a show about 'why it happened' then, is that you are fundamentally robbing the audience of their part in the transaction.

They're the ones who get to decide what it means.

If you remove them from that process by making your show all about explaining, or lecturing, or hammering home the why and the theme, you are actually forcing the audience to disengage, not further engage in your presentation.

A light sprinkling of theme helps to focus you -- but only if you're focused on the what happened, or what happens next. If you spend all your time thinking about 'why,' then you are almost guaranteeing that you'll wind up with something that's not engaging to the viewer.

Which, by the numbers, seems to be most scripted Canadian TV.

Sounds simple when you put it that way, don't it?

There's Drama in that Snapple

TUNE IN CBC Radio's Q today after 10am to hear me Tube Team talk about Product Placement in TV shows, from ye old wri-tor's perspecty.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

...And Cancel Christmas!

I LAST CHECKED my email on a free wi-fi connection at the Orlando International Airport at about noon today. A few things here and there, send, forward, delete -- the usual. I just got in the door (Hey, it's fucking winter!) and there were thirteen messages in my Dead Things Mailbox.

That, chickens, is NEVER a good thing.

The emails were multiples, of course. In the wake of last week's catastrophic Global layoff of over 500 people, both CTV and Corus today sent out all-staff memos announcing hiring freezes, restrictions on travel, forensic examination of all expenses that would make David Caruso blush, and a well of other draconian pronouncements.

The soft ad market, she ith a bitch mistress, shurely...

My favorite part of the CORUS memo was the following:

All company supported Christmas parties are cancelled for this year

Are there no workhouses?

CTV's having a big staff town hall tomorrow to gloom and doom a little further.

Welcome to the suck, kids. Fa la la la la.

Seeing What Develops, or Beware The Napkin

SO FOR THE first time in a long time, I'm starting to break and configure a story of my own, not based on anyone else's pilot or characters or bible. It's a world of characters and situations that I've come up with, along with a few key collaborators, over the course of a much longer time. Things percolate until you get the time to work on them.

In a sense, though -- and this is the thing that often gets missed within the Canadian system -- all of that prep work, that percolation, is only a very small part of the process. Because when you finally get down to brass tacks, your series world has to be grounded in the moment. It needs to reflect the world of the now, not the world when you first started thinking about it.

You may think, "well, really, how different can it be?"

About a year ago I decided, in discussions with my collaborators, that I wanted to turn next to a show that was positive, that had a funny or upbeat spin to it -- something escapist and un-cynical. I took a look at Ugly Betty, and liked something about the attitude of that character. There's another element to the show that I won't get into since it's kind of the nervous system of the thing, but I can say that there was a setting that placed it within the corporate world.

CUT TO:

Now. Now, what's changed in the corporate world in, oh, the last few months?

I was on the right track, an anticipatory track that suggested that people would like something hopeful. I was feeling that way, and I was pretty sure other people would feel that way too. And so with the Obama ascension and the change in mood in the USA (I've been in America for the last week and the change in feeling is truly astounding,) I've got something that I think will speak to the now.

I just have to figure out how to frame it in the context of near total economic collapse. Ulp.

None of these considerations are small. That's why people who have been doing this awhile (and I get cheeky here by including myself in a 'we' that includes writers who've been at this way longer than me) sometimes get so discouraged by 'Napkin Shows.' Napkin shows are those kinds of shows where Producers partner with a writer who might have a good idea for a show -- but nowhere near the experience to pull it off. Napkin shows look easy, but usually go down hard -- because the reality is that nothing about creating a believable, sustainable world is easy. Knight Rider is a napkin show. They do a half-assed pilot movie, shoot the thing onto the air, and a month or so in they realize that their show is bullshit and they have to completely recast and retool.

The talking car fighting terrorists might have seemed a good idea in W.'s America, where, oh, only say 60 percent of people were against the Iraq war. But now, doggone it, people are thinking about their jobs and homes, and the idea of the car actually helping individual people -- ie: the original concept that worked -- seems like genius. So they're going back to it.

There is a napkin show that didn't place itself into its time properly.

There have always been napkin shows. In the past they were handed over to more experienced showrunners and maybe things all turned out alright. It comes down to vision.

Now the internecine fight in Hollywood is getting uglier because you have all these Producer-Only Deals in place, and Producers trying to be the lead on shows where the writers are the hired help. Call it Hollywood's Canadianization of development. So now these shows arrive half baked, and whichever showrunner they tap to try to make sense of it doesn't last too long because they're fighting a Producer who thinks their every creative whim is what's driving the show, and network execs with way more power than they ever had before who expect to be able to carry every decision, yet still retain their rights to pull the plug instantly. Is it any wonder the Warner Brothers, or all the other independent production companies, have withered in that environment?

A whole lot of cooks, a whole lot of fingers in the pie, equals My Own Worst Enemy. Boom. Three and out.

I watched My Own Worst Enemy with my Mother and Father last week, and it was really, really instructive. My Dad's retired now, but once upon a time the guy was a manager of a manufacturing plant. He's got a business degree. He's a smart cookie.

I don't think he knew what was going on for three consecutive minutes in that show.

And I wasn't doing much better. I mean, what a mess it was. But the switching between personalities aspect of it wasn't the thing that was confusing. He actually got that very quickly. It was the 'why' of it all that proved elusive. Why are they going to all this trouble? What is the point of all this? What are the stakes, and which of these guys is the "real" guy. Oh, really? It's the spy? So...um.

Why? I want you to think about that question -- Why? And hold it in your head. We'll get to it. But maybe not today.

Anyway, there's basic questions. No good answers.

Napkins for miles.

(N.B. -- took a break from writing this to surf some other screenwriter sites, and lo and behold, Kay Reindl at Seriocity has written all about Knight Rider and My Own Worst Enemy, and done so with hilarious and trenchant insight.)

There were a lot of napkin shows greenlit within the Canadian system over the last little while. And it's been a bumpy ride. Even though the same thing is going on in the USA now, to an extent, in the Canadian system writer/creators have the extra overlay of a Network thinking in the back of their heads, "maybe if we can import an American to do this, they can sprinkle their L.A. fairy dust and make this sing! Sing!"

Which of course is a joke, because they never manage to get the Best of L.A., now, do they? One could make the argument that you'd be better off with going with one of your highly experienced homegrown showrunners, rather than import somebody 3rd tier from the larger system. But, you know, that too is a question for another time.

So back to development. You've got to know your world in a way that Knight Rider and My Own Worst Enemy didn't. That way your production adjustments can be just that, and not complete fucking retools on the fly. You have to worry about the "will my show get taken away from me?" factor. You try not to think of the scripts you've seen by incredibly experienced Canadian showrunners -- pilots for series that would have been plug-awesome if they were picked up. You try not to think of what some of those showrunners are doing now - propping up substandard material that never should have seen the light of day.

You try not to think of a thousand and one other structural problems stacked against you and then...

...then you clear the instrument. Like a pitcher on the mound who learns to tune out the screaming, catcalling crowd, you realize that none of that can help you.

You hope your Producer is on board with you. You're encouraged by the conversations where you all seem to be talking about the same thing. But now you just have to sit down and put ass in seat and figure the shit out.

And the first thing you have to figure out is how you can escape the tyranny of the Why?

But for that, you're gonna have to come back tomorrow...

Monday, November 17, 2008

Guest Post: "How Do I Be A Writer?"

DMc writes:

Allllmost back. One more day in the sun, reading books, not worrying about cold or words or concepts or the weirdness that is "the tv people." But coincidentally, I opened up my email box yesterday and saw the unmistakable signs of a writer expurging himself immediately post-project. This is a good thing -- cause the turn this blog's gonna take for a while is more tough love for the writer's soul. And I'm more than happy to lett Matt MacLennan kick that off.

Matt MacLennan is just finishing up a gig as a writer on a new CBC show called "The Wild Roses." He has also worked on Whistler, Billable Hours, and 15/Love, among others. Toronna, see ya tomorra. Over to you, Matt.

Ok, so I’ve been asked this a buncha times: “How do I be a writer?”

And my answer is usually, “Learn some god-damned sentence structure for one. You have the grammar skills of a dyslexic four year-old. Honestly… Oh what? Are you crying? Really? Crying? Cry all you want. Your tears bring me joy.”

Just kidding. I don’t say that. I’d be a prick if I said that.

I usually answer with nothing. Because I am a prick who fancies himself too busy to answer questions (that’s right, I fancy myself – obviously I’m a narcissistic prick).

Anyway, new policy. I’m answering the question.

For those of you who are writer/screenwriter/journalist friends, I would appreciate any input, feedback and even insults pertaining to this little project. Between all of us we should be able to come up with the ultimate list. Then we can go nail it to the WGC office doors just for kicks (it’s the closest thing to a church we have).


PART THE FIRST:

This first part is all about one thing.

Attitude.

The rest of the list I’m going to provide won’t mean a damn thing if you don’t get these things down pat first:

1. Write because you love it. Seriously. Think about what motivates you to do this shit. It’s a crazy job. Who the hell wants to talk to themselves and imaginary people all day in complete isolation without any promise of success? What are you, a glutton for punishment? If you love the whole crazy process fine but…

If you're after power, want your ego stroked, or enjoy manipulating and controlling fellow carbon based life forms then go have kids, take up S&M in earnest like you’ve always wanted or build and destroy a small nation … Whatever you do - please stay the hell out of the writing racket. Trust me there are enough self-serving assholes populating this little village of creatives already.

And for the love of whatever God you may or may not believe in – please do not do it for the glory. Eugh.

Generally speaking no one gives a shit about writers. They exist behind the scenes doing their work quietly, hanging out in the white spaces in between the words. People bitch about it but, in truth, that’s one of the best things about the gig – you don’t exist which is kinda magic. Enjoy being behind the curtain just like the Wizard of Oz did. If you step out from behind it too much then everyone will find out that we’re all schmucky, pale introverts pulling levers, tossing smoke bombs and throwing ideas at walls hoping they stick.


2. Pack a lot of intent – it’s a long haul to get anywhere. If you don't want to really really really write then don't. No, I’m serious. Otherwise you bust your ass for years and years, get good enough to achieve some kind of success, then you realize it's always a lot of work even when you know what you're doing (too much work if you don't love it) then you stop writing.

It's a waste of precious valuable life time. I’ve seen people do that. It’s a heartbreaker.

3. Bring a bag of focus - it's hard. It's going to take a lot of tenacity, drive and dedication even if you really want to do it. A recent study suggests that it takes over 10,000 hrs. of work (in a quality environment) to properly master any skill (which is about 5 years if you’re working at it something 40hrs. a week). And once you’re good you have to actually find a job which takes some time.

Dig in. Even if you’re good it’s gonna be a long haul.


4. Be a good person. I shouldn’t have to tell you how to do this. Your parents should’ve covered it but in case they fucked up here are a couple ground rules: be kind, treat others with respect, celebrate their successes, be honest, help, don’t suck up, endeavour to learn from people instead of judging them, foster the creativity of others instead of smothering it with your ego.

And don’t stab anyone in the back unless you want to find some steel between your own ribs one day.

I find writers are remarkably handy with a blade when retribution calls.


5. Ditch the torture. No one reading this is tortured. Thanks to the twin accidents of geography and history and the complete fluke that was your birth, you have been inherited the lifestyle of an entitled prince or princess - and not even because you deserved it.

Yeah, yeah, life’s hard, your parents didn’t love you enough, your ex is banging someone who looks just like you blah, blah. We all have our misery. If you’re selling yourself some story about your sad sack life or how you’re so hard done by then don’t be a writer. The “tortured artist” is a cliché that should’ve been deleted long ago.

Right now there’s a guy who earns less than a dollar a day to find land mines with a stick – he has the right to complain.

You?

You should shut the fuck up and get back to work.

Speaking of which…

Stay tuned for PART THE SECOND - a.k.a. PART DOS, a.k.a THE NEXT PART and a.k.a. WHY THE HELL AM I WRITING THIS INSTEAD OF WRITING MY SCRIPT?


I'm ready for part dos. What about y'all?