EDIT: keep reading through this, Chris Haddock corrects some stuff in the comments below.
THE OTHER NIGHT in Toronto at Atom Egoyan's Camera Lounge, there was a screening and discussion session for Being Erica, with Aaron Martin and Jana Sinyor, the showrunners & exec producers. Host Jill Golick ably directed the show as the crowd sampled two later episodes of Erica, the much ballyhooed "lesbian" ep guest starring Anna Silk, and a special sneak preview of the Season Finale which airs on CBC next Wednesday.
Jill's done these "Writers Watching TV" sessions for a couple of years now. Often they involve the preview of a Canadian show that's yet to make air, as when she hosted Malcolm MacRury for ZOS last year. Attendees of these sessions were also among the first to get a look at my Ex-show, The Border, as well as the Citytv comedy Less Than Kind, a session I wrote about here.
What was remarkable about the screening the other night was the turnout. Granted, Camera's screening room isn't the largest in the world -- probably tapping out around sixty. But there were at least twice that many people there. Never has 'first come, first served' seemed so apt.
I actually slipped out to the bar after the first episode because I thought, "this is crazy. I got my chance to ask Aaron and Jana questions already."
It may not have been the epiphany of seeing dozens of disappointed, shivering people queue up in the dead of winter at the Bloor Cinema just to catch a glimpse of the Trailer Park Boys. But it was a clarity moment. The people at that screening were there because of word of mouth. There were several unabashed fans of the show in the audience...many of them -- most, I'd say -- squarely smack in that women 25-54 demo CBC is coveting. (Apologies to Brioux here...and Bill, 50% in the demo is great for CBC -- it's actually something to build on...) A woman I know was more than proud to delcare full-throated support for the show. She'd clearly watched the season and was looking forward to more. And there were several more where she came from.
The lucky ones who got inside were treated to a peek at a very moving season finale, that puts the pin in the biggest mystery of the show's first season. (I got to see about half of it outside on a monitor.)
As is customary at these things, you talk and schmooze and people schmooze you ... and so it was that I found myself talking Canadian TV with someone (and I'm sorry I forget who; it's a whirlwind) who asked me the question I've been asked a thousand times. About why, with my American passport, I didn't go to the USA to write.
I've had several answers to that usually prepped and ready over the last few years. Most of them are true. There are soft reasons, like the pull of friends and family, and harder ones, like the fact that my decision to quit my job and start writing full time coincided with the rise of George W. Bush, and that ascendancy and the ugliness in the wake of the 2000 recount soured me on going home. There's the comical reason -- I may have only been a baby in New York City, but it's enough to make me fucking hate, hate, hate L.A....and there's the kismet reason. I drew up three scenarios for quitting my job in 2000: 1) Get into the ABC/Disney Writers Fellowship program and move to L.A. 2) Get into the Canadian Film Centre's Prime Time TV program and stay in Toronto, or 3) Get into Neither and go become one of the guys who wears a Mickey Mouse costume and gets beaten up by tourists at Disney World. (I didn't think that 3 would happen necessarily, but I knew if it did, thanks to family connections I'd at least have somewhere to stay.)
But when that question got asked the other night, I had a different answer. Something had been swimming around my head for a day or so and for whatever reason, here's what popped out:
"Because Chris Haddock showed me that I didn't have to."
It's been a tough week. If you're a creative, things are always precarious in the Canadian side of the business. Any regular reader of this blog knows that. So because there's no shortage of bad news this week, I wanted to solicit a little bit of good. How 'bout I go first?
Chris Haddock, with DaVinci's Inquest, proved that you could make literate, tough, interesting, compelling TV in this country; without compromise or apology. That show came on at a time before newfangled PVR's where you can tape lotsa stuff at once, and I remember for whatever reason, I always seemed to have a problem getting both The West Wing and Davinci on tape every week. I think I got The West Wing more often. But if I remember correctly, my friend Gregg was the guy who followed DaVinci religiously.
Which is not to say that I didn't catch it whenever I could. I use that anecdote merely to point out how good the show was. I thought of "Davinci" and "West Wing" in the same breath, at the same level. That was...shocking.
I'd had that kind of shock before. When I was on Media Television, I chased doing a story for a while on the first season of THE NEWSROOM. And I remember so clearly talking to a CBC Publicist who was frankly bewildered by the enthusiasm she was getting from the press...everybody loved the series! She kept saying it to herself like she didn't believe it. Like if she didn't say it out loud she'd wake up to find it was all a dream.
DaVinci's evocation of Vancouver as a place, as a locale, was fresh and exciting (and continued through Haddock's next Canadian series, the underappreciated Intelligence) and never disguised or apologized for itself (would that Toronto-set series did the same thing.) Nicholas Campbell was a hero worthy of a Robbie Coltrane Cracker-tradition. (I loved getting to work with Nick on the Ex-Show, and, God, please, I'll get to work with him again.)
The stories were tough, idiosynchratic, didn't have to end on a 'win' but always stayed with you. And for the first several seasons, DaVinci pulled in over 800 000 viewers a year on the CBC. Not bad. No simulcast, bitches. Not bad at all.
Haddock and his partner Laszlo Barna, whose Barna-Alper Productions produced the series, inspired a new generation of creators to go, "wait. maybe we don't have to go. what if we could stay here an do things our way?"
Now, granted, Haddock is a force of nature and not everyone's going to get to be a Haddock. Haddock talks of himself as a producers, and maybe that's the way you have to be to work in the subsidy-system that rules the roost in this country. But the truth is, he is a balls-out U.S. style showrunner. And for better or for worse, his example is why I decided, "Eff it. I'm going to stay."
Jesus, that might have been a huge fucking mista...
Sorry, sorry..this is a Happy Happy Joy Joy Post.
Okay. So. That was the surprise. Here's the second one, that's not a surprise. I tell this to everybody I talk to. Peter Mohan is a guy I worked for who modeled in its purest form, the platonic showrunner ideal of "Best Idea Wins." But he wasn't the first. I've had the fortune to have a boss before that who taught me about managing people in the media.
Howard Bernstein was my first boss out of University. He had been the head of Global News, and the Senior Producer for The Journal, and Executive Producer for Canada AM, and a bunch of other posts in the business. He used to joke that he had either hired or fired everyone in broadcasting.
When I worked with Howard at TVO, here's what he taught me about management. It's valued stuff, that I've cherished to this day and a philosophy that I will follow to the best of my ability in any show I ever run. Howard's philosophy of management was very, very, very simple:
1) Hire someone smart. 2) Encourage them to take risks, and strive, and stretch 3) Keep an eye on them, and only step in when they go off track.
"Going off track" doesn't mean, "not doing it the way I would do it." It means, "has lost sight of the forest, for the trees."
We live in an age of micromanaging where no one's allowed to show their best. And second guessing is all the rage. It's shocking how much Howard's method works. It frontloads the work for you -- you have to pick the right people. But it's funny what you get out of people when they know it's okay to reach.
Howard and I would talk Murphy Brown and Seinfeld all the time. Later, he produced a show on the Toronto Zoo that kept me afloat during my transition to scriptwriting. So though I've never worked with him on a scripted show, I can honestly say he's the guy, as much as any other, who modeled skills and granted me opportunity to do what I do now.
There's a funny thing at work in the Biz --- Something I've seen in my own life. There is no shortage of people who will line up to take credit for your success. But the people who are really responsible for your success are rarely those who are lining up to claim the privilege.
Anyway. There it is. Those are my stories. Now... The Anecdote lines are open. Enough with the sturm and drang. If you work in Drama, comedy, lifestyle, doc, reality, or infotainment production, who's the person who shaped who you are? Who do you owe and why?
It's a tough time out there right now. We need good stories of people who are decent, and who help others forward. Pour out your stories. We could all use a bit of reflected goodwill right now!
12 comments:
Stepping right up, I point my finger directly at Jim Henshaw, who taught me a whole lot about showrunning - most important, it's not worth your sanity and pick your battles.
Suzette Couture has schooled me in how to deal with people, as I'm pretty hot-tempered. And has always been there during the darkest hours.
I would also have to point out producers Lee Siegel whose famous quip to me on my very first script was "your story starts on page 18". And that was on a half hour.
And then there was the idiosyncratic Jon Anderson with a sink-or-swim, develop a thick skin baby attitude. He once introduced me to the director of the week as his secretary. Director was appalled when he discovered I was the single entity comprising the story department responsible for writing and rewriting everything.
And then there are the long-standing friendships and support of other writers like Hart Hanson, Scott Gemmill, and Rick Drew.
And to Peter Mohan - we'll always have Paris.
Heh heh. Deb, do you remember a specific thing that Jim taught you?
And how exactly did Suzette help you with the anger thing? Was it just a general attitude thing, or did she have specific things you could do?
Looking to give people a takeaway here. Apparently we're all going to have lots of time for professional development!
Re: Jim - tutored me in dealing with the execs, discussed story and structure which was really important as I was all by myself on this show, let me rant, let me hide out in his office, discussed giving notes, and a million other little things.
re: Suzette - civility. And pause before you answer any question. And in an emergency, order champagne.
The "pause" is killer.
as is Champagne in an emergency.
Now we're getting to the good stuff. Who's next?
I know this isn't exactly what you're looking for... But one day on the set of Newsroom, I was stressing out about something and super AD/Director Dan Murphy said to me, "Relax, we're just making a TV show."
And every day I know never to take any of this too seriously.
Absolutely Matt. I forget who said it to me but the pharse was - this isn't brain surgery.
I tend to like to go for the pomo version: "c'mon guys, this isn't rocket surgery!"
But true story: I made that very true, very basic "gut check" comment on a show I was on once and got this back from the person I said it to:
"It's a lot more than that. This is people's lives, and you should be taking it seriously."
That was a long, long, long project.
ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!
i never really had any training at this. I took a four month course taught by Lee Siegel who, at the time, was a network exec at CTV. He liked me, or my stuff, or both and got me a job as an intern on a half hour show. That soon became office gopher, but I dug the gig -- they gave me a CAR, that I could use ON WEEKEND!
Since I appeared somewhat literate, I was usually assigned to drive around the distributers and the like when they showed up in town. it was during that time that I met Paul Talbot -- one of the founders of Freemantle Television, a distribution company of some note. I remember picking up Mr Talbot after a less than successful meeting with the Canadian network carrying the show and he muttered something about networks with his obsequious assistant.
As I dropped him off for lunch he asked me -- so boy, what'd you get from all that -- I said "the network is ALWAYS right". He smiled and said good, you even put the emphasis in the right place. Now, I no longer agree with that, but i did remember the salesman in him and how in television it was always important to find a way to please the client if one wanted a career that had some longevity.
The following season the intern job turned into a typist job and i found myself working for Charles Israel. Now I have spoken many times about Charles but he is the answer to your question.
My writing partner (well, friend, we were not yet able to classify ourself in those terms) had put together a sample script over the summer and like every script typist before me we presented it to the new boss. He read it, said it was good and asked us what kind of script we wanted to write. Well how about the sample. No, don't like it but there is something there.
But we walked out of the room with a contract!
The first script we ever wrote had all the classic mistakes of a new writer. A theme that could charitably be called grandiose -- a dilemma sufficient for a two hour movie-- a focus on the guest as opposed to the lead characters. The whole nine yards. But it did have some killer scenes.
Charles worked with us and at the end of the day my friend and I looked at our "production fee" cheques and felt like we'd won 649.
Between us, my writing partner and I wrote seven of the 24 episodes of the series that season while remaining uncomfortable ever saying we were writers.
Obviously a lot of people you meet teach you different things as you go through this but Charles will always be the one who had the greatest influence on me, not so much as a writer, but as an inspiration as how to best conduct yourself in this, and frankly, any other job.
No, it wasn't 'rocket surgery" and "we weren't saving any lives here" (Matt Mcleod's comments every time things went bad on Cold Squad) but treating the gig with the respect it deserved was an important lesson Charles gave me. Charles had gone to rabbinical school, left it to work with the UN dealing with the displaced people after WW2 and had ended up, somehow, in Hollywood where he wrote radio dramas and a lot of old shows that probably have never been archived. When I met him, his career was winding down -- he was story editing a half hour family drama in Canada but he took it seriously -- not stupid serious, but he did an honest days work every day he was there. I learned from him that if you agreed to take the money -- you don't have the right to consider the job beneath you.
He also "went to bat for you" At one point the network got concerned that "this kid" was writing all the scripts and wondered if it was wise. For me, it was devastating, I was digging what I was doing so much and didn't want it to end. I remember him getting into his beat up Toyota that he'd probably owned for twenty years and driving to the network. He came back a couple hours later and said -- don't worry about it. Get onto the next one.
I remember asking him -- "what the fuck did you say" (because even though he was an unfailing polite man, I think I brought out the Baltimore in him and we both cursed a blue streak, just not around 'the ladies"). Charles said all he asked the network exec was if he had a problem with my writing. The network exec said no, it just seemed odd that "this kid" was doing all those scripts. Charles said -- he CAN do them, so why not?
Case closed.
So what'd I learn?
Identify talent, nurture it and exploit it (he gave me all the work I could handle so he could write his wine column).
Stick up for the people you have hired.
Remember that the job always needs to be taken seriously.
And try to remember, through all of it, to be kind.
Meant to weigh in on this earlier...sorry.
Don't really have one person of inspiration or as mentor, but several people who helped out and I certainly owe.
Henshaw of course...have written about him taking me under the wing and showing me the ropes before... and he placed me as a director observer with Armand Mastriaoni on 'Friday the 13th - The Series'. Armand was awesome because of spending 10 days just following him around or getting him coffee, he kept involving me and asking me how I'd block scenes and stuff. He said: "you only learn by doing, so get in here and do it with me."
And then there was Hart Hanson and Linda Coffey who at the time were with CBC Vancouver...but they let me hang with them and taught me tons about writing TV and how Canadian television worked.
And then there was D.J. McHale on Are You Afraid of the Dark? A great guy and very giving showrunner...taught me all about writing/directing spooky tales and the 'right' way to run a show.
And John Calvert was a great teacher about the ins and outs of producing TV, both on Psi Factor and Earth" Final Conflict.
I'm sure there's many more...apologies, not meaning to exclude anyone...but end of day I mostly learned by just doing, and screwing up, but not screwing up bad enough to never get to do it again...and making sure I did it better the next time.
Hi Dennis - thanks for the props but you really can't blame me for your remaining in Canada. I'd also like to correct an impression your readers may have. Da Vinci's was produced by Haddock Entertainment, all 104 episodes, out of Vancouver, produced by various producers, signficantly Arvi Limataanen and Laur Lightbown. Mr. Barna was not a producer, but an exec, so his credit. Just so those who make the thing gets due respect. Further, you say that "i like to call myself a producer, but really, i am a showrunner. Wittingly or unwittingly, you perpetuate a disservice to those like myself - writer producers, or writer owners - who have fought to own our own material without the need of middlemen, a fight that began as soon as I reared my head here n Vancouver. These line producers and service producers wish to maintain the age old relationship of owner to employee, them owning, us writers being employess. When writer creators producers own and oeprate their own busines as I do, the middlemen are threatened, and do al lto ensure the impression that the writer is somehow feeble minded outside the script page. But perhaps this is where I have stumbled upon your previous reference to my "fractious relationsip wit the wgc. The WGC wants to cover the category of showrunner in the guild. Hence it's interest in my being percieved as a showrunner, not an entrepreneur leveraging his talent or acumen to reverse the odds usally given writers AND ACTUALLY own and run the process. Da Vinci's was made entirely in Vancouver by Vancouverites,by an independent outfit, despite the impression some may have or have been fed. Keep up the good coverage of the industry affairs, and your pencil sharp and powder dry. From the coast - Captain Haddock, repping the crew. ps. Peter mohan and Bob Carney brought me in the door and showed me the ropes. Mucho gracias
Chris, thanks for that, and that first line which gave me my best laugh all day.
Don't worry, I won't lay my staying here on you again.
Thanks for the ongoing example and and the amplifications and corrections. They're appreciated.
Your fight's helped all of us.
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