The Other Side

ONE OF THE things that never occurred to me before is that the very things that lead one to become a good television writer might also help once you move up and start being a writer-producer.

I was a producer for years - but on the documentary/factual side. So for the last few years, after I made the switch to full time writer (Or as I put it when I'm in my cups, once I went from sitting through interviews thinking, "shutup" to actually making things up,) I focused on the words and the skillset.

You know what helps when you're imagining scenes and dialogue: empathy, being able to read people a bit, an observer's touch, the ability to relate to people with different challenges and histories than you -- well, all that stuff helps in producing, too.

I will never be the type of producer who can instantly figure out how much this costs versus how much that costs -- or at least I think I won't...but I'm starting to enjoy the ability to watch the Director work, to try and be there if they ever need anything answered or clarified, or if they just need a second opinion on something they want to try. It might only happen twice a day, but if it does happen, then you were valuable being there.

I also find that the more I'm on set, the more my affection for the hardworking crew and the actors grows. This probably won't come as news to people like Henshaw or Dixon...but it's another facet to the experience that I'm enjoying.

What it comes down to though, for me, is this -- the skillset that helps you in being an intuitive writer is the essential thing that helps you, eventually, to be the showrunner. I used to think that showrunner was such a fearsome and scary job, but it's not. Yes, it's a lot of responsibility. But the most important parts go back to that skillset you've already been honing. And that personal, people-management stuff is way harder than the rest of it. There are GREAT nonwriting producers out there -- it doesn't mean they're not creative. But I think the control rod that helps most good showrunners from being unbearable egomaniacs is probably that the writing process itself is so very, very humbling. When your governor is, first and foremost, how can this be the best it can be? I think you probably get into a lot less trouble than if you're approaching it from an ego-gratification factor: enjoying the power.

For there is no power in producing, really producing, I find. Not when you can so easily be humbled by the weather, or sickness, or a crew injury or bad luck or a pedestrian passing at the wrong time, or the dog not hitting his mark.

If you open yourself up to the other people who want to make the show better, you always wind up with ideas, fresher approaches and moments of fancy that never occurred to you. So the opener I scripted as a walk and chase becomes something with a car and a motorcycle, and the university setting becomes a colorful grafitti alley -- and you get none of that if you don't open up the iron fist a bit and let someone else try to give you the best they've got, too.

I've thought in the back of my mind that somewhere down that crazy river, I'd like to Direct. But it's when I watch people like Michael DeCarlo (who I'm currently working with, and who also Directed Across The River To Motor City) or Phil Earnshaw (who's prepping our next Border ep) or Andy Mikita or David Winning or James Dunnison or any number of other Directors I've observed, that I think about moving those goalposts a little further down the field. That skillset is very different. For now, I'm happy to listen to great TV Directors like Ken Girotti talk about what they go through.

So then, to Girotti's take on Notes: from the Director's POV:

Yesterday I was in New York to meet with some people about a US Network show now going into its third season. I knew before 15 minutes of the meeting had elapsed that were I to work on this show NOTES would be my only way of staking a claim to the mantle of director...as opposed to say, "School Crossing Guard." I won't name names but the show's title is a derivative of the name, Elizabeth (another one who's last name was Rubble appeared in a TV series years ago) in concert with the fact that she is perceived to be less than attractive.

In the meeting I was told how they do things. Script the night before day one of prep. Concept meeting first up. Casting meeting second up. Costume meeting third (because the show has a fashion element), then scout locations. The list of how they do things was long, and was largely a blur until I heard the words, "Shot List!" From that moment forward I was rendered blind.

"We demand a shot list from all of our directors because that's the way... WE. DO. THINGS. HERE." Fuh-uck!

Before you crawl up my arse and accuse me of being lazy because I don't do shot lists hear me out. I ALWAYS do a shot list. ALWAYS. But my shot lists are mine. They're my shots. I share them with the cinematographer and the AD. If there's a stunt or effects sequence I do a storyboard and I share that with everyone. The trouble with making a shot list public is A) you get held to them...wiggle room begone! and B) I live in fear that the actors will see them (they have) and that they'll feel like they're somehow hemmed in.

So I keep my shot lists to myself and to the people essential to helping me realize them.

Demanding a shot list of a director who's private about them is about as close to penile endoscopy as you can get without inserting a foreign object into the human body. I should mention that this violation won't be nearly as painful for directors of the School Crossing Guard variety. Shot lists are like international environmental agreements. Everybody wants them but once they're out there everybody wants to change them. Fuck that noise!

The short excerpt does not do the full post justice.

And just because this is a writing blog and I like to circle back, panda-style, let me just say, take out "shotlist" and replace it with "bible" and you're back to talking about writers in Canadian television.

Oh snap, see what I did there?

Okay, back to set. Or outline. Or...man....where do I have to be right now?