Saturday, February 25, 2006

Metal: A Headbanger's Journey

Well, I'm pretty hemmed in this weekend working on an animation script, but I wanted to put a plug out for a film that I did some work on last year that opened commercially this weekend in Canada.

Metal: A Headbanger's Journey is a personal odyssey through the culture of Heavy Metal. It's the kind of joyous doc that's interesting if you're a metalhead, but even more interesting if you're not. Seriously.

I blogged about the doc when it had its premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival in September. The nice thing about Metal: A Headbanger's Journey is that you learn something about culture, and people, and it's a damned entertaining film to boot. It's been getting great reviews, and if it's playing in your city, I would heartily recommend you go give it a looksee.

Go to their site for reviews, and cities where you can see it.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Paris is Burning

Once upon a time there was a woman who was famous for nothing, though she was rich.

Then came this.

Which begs the question: if you make your living by looking like a woman who's famous for having no discernable skills -- let's face it, she doesn't even seem to be that adept at the very act that kickstarted her fame -- well...what are you, exactly? I think we really might have reached fame's bottom on this one. What say y'all?

In the movies, the last time I remember them doing this well was DAVE. And that guy was pretending to be the President. Now we have a real President who says nothing about pretend things and a pretend person pretending to be a celebrity who's a pretender herself.

The snake's been eating his tail for a while now, I realize...but...um...what's left?

Thursday, February 23, 2006

While I spiral into a black hole of unending creative torment...

Why would you be here, seriously, when there is the beauty of this post from the Kung Fu Monkey?

I particularly-heart-his description of the act breakdown of every sci-fi genre story.

Whoopsy-Daisy

Well, all of a sudden there's meetings to be had. And I'm behind on one script, and dangerously close to being behind on another. And just three days ago, I was filled with righteous vigor, and felt on top of things. Eep.

Anyway, what that means is that I'm going to have to delay the third part of the Spec Script post for a few days.

In the meantime, I've noticed that the site counter and stats have now ticked up to a respectable level...but so very many of you are like Charlie -- just laying in wait out in the jungle. Apparently Duvall got it wrong. Charlie do Surf...he just don't comment.

I've got anonymous commenting turned off because it attracts too many trolls and too much spam -- but though Blogger says when you register that you have to register a blog -- you really don't. Sign up, sign in, and let me know some stuff:
  • Who are ya?
  • What's yer business here? (Aspiring screenwriter, working writer, just interested in TV, Secretly Canadian, ex-girlfriend stalking you (enjoy the bunny))
  • What kind of posts have you enjoyed the most?
  • Have any of my ramblings sparked questions?
  • Paper or Plastic?
  • What bugs you most about TV?
  • Is Michael Bay the Devil?
Now that it seems I have a healthy readership -- who the hell are you people?

And can I crash on your couch for a few days?

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Seriously. Why Even Bother?

I defy anyone to read this article and not do one of two things:

  1. Laugh.
  2. Cry.
Maybe what's needed is fire.

Fire good.

Actually, Antonia's blog at The Toronto Star makes the inanity even clearer.

Spec: Part Two: Research

This is Part Two. Click here for Part One.

Okay, so now you’ve got the show.

Now what?

Stupid is the writer who starts writing a screenplay without an outline. But the TV writer who attempts a spec without a Beat Sheet is a total maroon. But here's the rub, chickens -- we're nowhere near the beat sheet. Not yet. Before you start to prepare a beat sheet, you have to do your Research.

In this case, research involves immersing yourself in everything you can find about the show. This is a lot easier today than it was a few years ago. Many writers blog, or there are online sites, official or fan-driven, where you can read all the interviews, online chats, blogs, and press materials in one place. Your first journey should be to try and get in the headspace of people who already write for the show. What do they think it’s about? What motifs or themes do they return to, again and again? Is it possible to explain the show in a couple of sentences? Early pre-press, and the first interviews given about the show are often invaluable for this – because it gives you the first blurt – often the simplest distillation of what the show’s about, and what makes it different.

It’s great if you can get screenwriting articles from the WGA or Creative Screenwriting or Script – and if you can find a script online, that’s gold. If not, reading some transcripts can help – just remember that you’re reading fan transcripts, not shooting scripts, so don't follow them for style -- just dialogue. Once you’ve waded through all that, here’s your next step:

Set it aside.

In the end, the only way to get a feel for the show that you’re about to spec is to screen multiple episodes, and deconstruct them. This is very much active, not passive viewing – so it’s best if you’ve seen the shows before. Watch them once for entertainment value, then return to them with fresh eyes; professional eyes.

Actually, if you’ll let me backtrack a bit, sometimes the best approach is not to use eyes at all – not at first.

Once upon a time, what set TV and the movies apart was the fact that movies were visual, and TV was radio with pictures.

If you think about the visual grammar of TV – it’s traditionally largely been composed of medium shots and close ups. The visual fooferal you’ll see in auteur-movies is largely absent.

In TV, stories have been conveyed primarily through dialogue. If you think back to childhood, I’m sure you’ve got memories of doing your homework in front of the tv. You still followed the show, right?

People watch TV and talk on the phone. People fold laundry, do their taxes, cook dinner, make love, in short, they often don’t devote 100% attention to the tv.

This has changed a bit over the years. DVD rewatching of TV means that more info can be layered in visually. HD and 16:9 mean the same thing. The complexity of TV storytelling is exponentially greater than it was a generation ago. But TV still has those Radio with Picture roots. So a first step in discerning how your show works may be to listen to the show. Go in the other room, play the recording back, and see how much you can follow the action. When you watch it later, ask yourself, “how much did I miss?” And what kinds of things did you miss? Were they major turning points? Most of the time, you’ll find that you may miss atmospheric details, but the essential turns in plot will either be revealed, or underlined in dialogue. By listening to the show first, you can “tune” just how visual or action-driven your show is, compared to how dialogue-driven it is. That’s an important thing to know going in to the rest of the research process.

The aim at this point is to break the show down into its component parts. Your object is to crack the DNA code of this show.

So how do you watch that way?

Sit on the couch with a stopwatch. Watch the teaser start to finish. Now watch it again. How long was it? How many scenes? Was it a cold open or a true teaser? Which plots were introduced? Which characters were featured? When did the A Plot get introduced?

Go through the whole show that way. You’re looking to construct a log of the show – how many scenes are there in total? How much time is given to the A? The B? Are there other plots or runners? How much screen time do they get? If it’s a show that has arcs, how much screen time is given over to plot threads that begin and end in the show, and how much to the overall arc?

How many acts, and how long are each? Some shows will have long teasers, almost an act unto themselves. Some shows will have the major turning point at the end of Act Two, some at the end of Act Three. Are any of the acts longer, or are they of more or less uniform length? Some shows tend to have longer scenes at the beginning, and then have the scenes get shorter and shorter as the show progresses – the better to suggest momentum. In some series, the penultimate scene is the longest scene in the show. In others, it’s the last scene. Does the A and B plot resolve in the last scene, or does the B resolve earlier? What else did you notice?

All of this is math.

You are doing a mathematical deconstruction of how the show fits together. You're looking for patterns. This is why…and get ready to groan… you have to do this at least three times, with three different episodes.

I know people who do it with two. But the problem is that even a great show can have an atypical episode. If you pick at random, an atypical ep, you may skew the pattern. Better to log three…chart em….put em up on the wall. And look at the map you’ve created.

Whatever episode you write is going to have to replicate this math.

Now, cast the math aside, and go back through the shows again.

This time you’re mapping character interactions, and story points. Is the show an ensemble or a main star? How does the story revolve around the core cast? (One of the biggest rookie mistakes is writing an episode with a great guest star and having the story revolve around the guest star. Even if the guest star is compellingly written as all get out, in series television, the show revolves around your core cast…everything needs to be their point of view and reveal their characters.)

Are there characters who always find themselves paired? That might be important later – because you either have to nail the essence of that relationship, or if you’re going to play against type, put two characters together who don’t normally interact and go from there.

What role do the various characters play in the show? Who drives the plot? Who discovers things? Who is the conscience? Who sends our characters off in another direction? Which characters are instigators and which are followers? What is the map of how these characters interrelate? Do all interactions go back through the star/central character (ie: Raymond on Raymond) or are they allowed to go off on their own tangents (Jack and Karen on Will & Grace.) Now look at the plots the same way – Are the A & B separate? Are they linked thematically? Do they stay separate, join in the end, kiss somewhere in the middle, and then spin off to separate conclusions, or do they conclude together? Does the solution for the B point the way to the solution for the A? Most of the time, you’re going to see some kind of overall theme emerge. Usually the plots won’t say the same thing about the theme – they may act as point or counterpoint. Or the connection between them might be slight at best. What’s the norm for your show?

Finally, apply the old rule of “what is this scene doing?” Traditionally a scene can fulfill three functions: it can move the plot along, it can reveal character, or it can reveal theme. Good scenes do one of these things. Better scenes do two. The best scenes do all three. What happens in your show?

Meredith and Cristina walking along the corridor with the bomb in the guy’s chest moves the plot along, but it also gives them a chance to talk through Cristina’s relationship troubles, which reveals both what they think is important in life, and their deepest fears. This is another way of approaching the hoary and difficult subject of laying in subtext in the scene. Breaking it down into its three components is often easier than thinking of a big scary word like subtext. When you look at the scenes this way, it also helps you to understand how the show handles the difficult problem of laying pipe and hiding pipe. (doling out plot info, and doing it in such a way that it’s not overly exposition-y.)

Once you’ve done your due diligence, and performed this task for three episodes, you should start to grok the DNA of how the show works.

Now it’s time to come up with your plot.

That’s for next time.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Specs: Part One

So you want to write a spec script.

Great. Good for you. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you know if you’re targeting the half-hour or the hour arena. In places like Canada, you do flip back and forth between hour and half-hour, simply because there’s not enough work to specialize too much. There’s also some odd ducks here too, like the occasional half-hour drama.

In the U.S. this isn't usually the case. You pretty much have to declare yourself an hour writer or a half-hour (comedy) writer. There’s not a lot of flipping between the two camps. Switching between one and the other is not impossible, but it’s extraordinarily unlikely. Few seem to even try. In Canada, it’s not at all uncommon to have a half-hour sample, and an hour sample in your library. I think that’s probably of much more limited value if you’re going to take a run at L.A.

So if you’re looking about, how do you pick the right show?

Well, to decide that you need to know a bit more about you-- what kind of person you are, where your interests and skills ultimately lie; also what’s going on in the industry at large.

I’ve always thought a good time to spec a show is at the end of its first solid season, or sometime in its second. Every show takes several episodes to find itself. If you compare, for instance, early episodes of My Name is Earl or Commander in Chief to the ones that are on the air now, you’re going to see some subtle but very important differences. (In the case of the latter, you'll also have the benefit of seeing how a show that seemed like a sure-fire hit can go south; CiC took exactly the opposite trajectory as last year's House.)

The show you pick should have a degree of familiarity and currency. You don’t want to pick a show that’s going to be canceled. You want one that’s going to be around for a while, but that’s had the time to find itself.

It should also be something you’re naturally interested in. If you’ve had a background in science, maybe a medical drama or a police procedural would work for you. For my part, you’d never catch me specing a House or a CSI in a million years. All the science leaves me cold, and the one true thing about a spec script is this: you cannot fake it. If yours is a show that requires research, you need to do the research. (And yes, I know, on House they have people that do that. But you're not on House yet, are you? Suck it up, buttercup.)

I spec’ed a West Wing at the end of Season One. I’ve read a lot of bad West Wings over the years, but it was a natural for me because I have a very deep grounding and interest in U.S. Politics. I also took a bit of insider knowledge and worked that into my spec – years ago as a journalist, I’d done a story on the Library of Congress…I interviewed the Librarian, Dr. James Billington. So I worked that kind of insight about the institution, its history, what it meant, and hung that on a couple of my characters. And the result was something that still gets me work six years later.

Is there some kind of personal experience you’ve had that you can imbue into the script? We’ve all gone to high school, certainly, but is there something that happened to you in High School that might inform or put a new spin on Summer or Seth on The O.C.?
Trying to match your sensibility to the show you choose to spec is a very important step. The one thing I’ve seen fail, time and again, is when someone decides to spec a certain show because it will be “easy,” or because “How hard can it be?”

It’s hard, Cochise.

It’s hard because of one very, very salient fact:

You are not trying to write an average episode of that show. Average episodes are not going to impress anybody. If your spec’s going to pop, it needs to be a superior episode of that show. An episode that displays that you can write the structure of the show, and embody the singular voices of the characters, but a story that also engages or twists, or turns, or shines brighter than all but the very best that show is about. There’s going to be a median level of knowledge that readers bring to this show you’re doing. Some who read your script will know the show quite well, and some will know the show only in passing. Most will fall somewhere in between. Your dialogue, action, story, and description needs to crackle with the very essence, the lifeblood of the show. It has to nail the template, and offer the reader an experience that stands out not only against all the other specs of that show they’re ever going to have to read – but also against the show itself.

Tall order.

So starting with a show that connects with you emotionally is a good start. At the same time, it probably shouldn’t be your favorite show. We all tend to get a little fanboy about our favorites. You’re not writing...shudder... fanfic. You’re trying to show your professionalism and your talent.

Once you’ve come up with candidates of shows you think are in your wheelhouse emotionally or experientially, then there are a few strategic questions to ask:

Is this going to be the thing everyone is writing?

The more spec scripts of a certain show that go out, the more tired people get of reading them, and the higher the bar gets – in order to impress, you have to rise above the rest, and also impress enough to overcome all the half-hearted, desultory attempts at the same material the person has to wade through.

What market are you trying to target? Can your show do double duty?

There are some shows that really have very limited appeal, and others that can work for wider, or multiple markets.

For instance, the new Battlestar Galactica might be on everyone’s best of lists – but it’s still sci-fi. That will probably help you with Sci-fi work – but even though it should, it probably won’t help you with Adult dramas. People are funny that way.

On the other hand, Smallville works for Sci-fi, and it would probably also work as an action adventure sample, and a youth sample. You could send that out for multiple assignments. The O.C. has both Adults and Teens in it – if you write ‘em both well, you could show breadth that way.

Grey’s Anatomy shows you can write relationships and adult drama. CSI or Law & Order can show that you write procedural, but if you’re trying to also demonstrate mastery of character, CSI probably would have the edge. Scrubs shows that you can write comedy, absurdity and character, but because it also has serious scenes it can show a certain depth that say, a Two and A Half Men can’t touch. (Also, 4 camera and single camera half-hours: very different. But you know that already, right?)

A teen sample might work for animation aimed at teens as well, or vice versa. Children’s or Sci-fi shows probably don’t work beyond those genres.

Recently, some people have tackled vintage specs, either as parody or straight-up. I think they’re risky. Jane Espenson wrote on this subject a while back. I certainly can’t add anything better than she’d say. But I know if I was looking at scripts, and I got a well-written Cheers, that might be something that could stand out, and provide an edge.

All these come with the same caveat: they have to be extra-special good.

So now you’ve found your show. Good for you. Now what?

Next time, we’ll talk about prepping and analysis, doing the ‘ear’ test, and spec math for math idiots.

Hola, amigos.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Query-Feary

A reader emails, basically, the following:
You write a lot about a lot of stuff. And you don't mind saying what you think. But you don't talk about what you're doing. Why not?
That's a good question. In some cases, it's to be circumspect. I'm not sure, exactly, what my obligations are when it comes to development deals I have, and what I can and can't talk about. So I mostly err on the side of "say little." Also, I'm of Irish background, and fatalistic in the way of all the Irish in the sense that it's not nice to talk about something until it's actually something. Development deals are like bums. Everyone has one. They all work the same. Nothing to get excited about.

That being said, I guess a more general rundown of exactly what I'm working on right now wouldn't be too out of order. So, in my best vague terms, here we go:

  1. A half-hour comedy -- currently on a desk somewhere in Toronto waiting to be read -- takes place in the dorm of a mid-sized University somewhere in Canada. It's like Degrassi meets Dawson's in a Dorm. Status: Work completed, in with the Network.
  2. An hour-long mystery series about a father and a daughter, set in two eras. Status: Two of three scripts co-written, and in with a Network. Revising 1 & 2, writing 3, and revising bible.
  3. A half-hour comedy set in and around a neighborhood, about small neighborhood issues, and the whole NIMBY movement. Status: Pilot and Script, In Consideration for the Canadian Film Centre Pilot program. Currently being pitched.
  4. An hour-long series that's part soap, part office drama, and a spin on the "case walks in the door each week" engine that fuels most cop, lawyer, and medical shows, but in an arena that isn't cops, doctors, or lawyers. Status: Bible + Pilot, 2nd Episode currently at Outline. With a Network.
Right now I'm also in various stages on a couple of other projects where I'm a hired gun, among the ones worth talking about:
  1. Writing an episode of an animated series.
  2. Story Editing a half hour comedy series.
  3. Writing & Story room work for a friend's half hour series.
Those at the moment are my open projects. It sounds like a lot more than it is, because there's usually one or more lying fallow while you wait for notes and feedback. Still, in an average week, I'm usually writing two different projects. Sometimes three. Sometimes it's hard. Sometimes it's not. It is definitely easier than working for a living.

This is the main reason why I want to be out of the development game for a while. At this point, being able to focus on one project through production would be a godsend. Some of my projects seem tantalizingly close. But close, we all know, is only good for horseshoes, hand grenades, and shooting close personal friends of the Vice President.

So that's what I'm up to.

What Happens When You're Bold?

It's a cold and beautiful sunny day here in Toronto. I'm enjoying coffee and an omelette at the place on the corner. It's the kind of day where you almost don't mind working through the weekend.

Well, except for the fact that I'm not working. I'm writing this. But anyway.

The week ahead has a few meetings, and a few "definitely have to do that's" attached, along with the usual passel of "hmm, that might need to get done too's" -- but I'm definitely thinking in the Spec Script frame of mind. So I'm probably going to do a series of posts on how to approach that, since the Agent's put me on notice that it's time (past time) for me to wade in with some new samples myself.

In the meantime, I'd like to address a slightly different, slightly smaller audience. And I'd like to do it by saying, "lookee at this picture."

I'm assuming you know who the guy on the right is. The guy on the left is the President of the Sundance Channel, Larry Aidem. In the middle is Sundance Channel Executive Vice President Laura Michalchyshyn.

Ms Michalchyshyn is the reason why Americans are seeing the great Canadian series Slings & Arrows, which starts its second season on the Sundance Channel today.

Michalchyshyn used to be an executive at Alliance Atlantis here in Toronto, where she oversaw a number of specialty channels. She developed a reputation for being very encouraging of talent, and shepherding a number of high-quality projects to the screen. She was bold, and worked hard, and had vision, and was very good at what she does.

Now she's in New York, working for Robert Redford, and bringing some of those great series she helped get going reach a wider audience.

This is an interesting time for the Canadian TV biz. There's lots of competing visions about how things are going to go. CBC...Global...CTV...CHUM...CORUS...all have some serious decisions to make about how they're going to go forward. Now the future can belong to the shoppers, who go to the U.S. screenings, and cherry pick and come back and simulcast and tell themselves that they're really very, very important and effective broadcast executives...

...or the future can belong to the bold.

Just saying.

Enjoy Slings & Arrows, guys. Second season's awesome.