IS SOMEONE whose name you likely will only know if you're a writer or producer in this country. She's been a development executive at CTV for several years, and recently she's been heading up the development at CTV from Vancouver.
She's leaving CTV. Officially, for a sabbatical, a change and something new. Man, if I was a Production Company in this country, I would snap this woman up fast as you can.
I only had one meeting with Clark, for a project that I was briefly involved with last fall. But she was well liked and well respected -- arguably the most respected development exec in Canada. In a world where a lot of people jump to take credit for it -- those in the know would point to Louise Clark as the person most responsible (on the Network side) for bringing Corner Gas to CTV.
This isn't the best news for creatives. I hope that CTV, a place that's had a lot of turnover in the last year, finds its way. There's some good people there, and I guess though there's never a great time for this kind of thing, at least it's happening when they have the blush of recent success.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
And Lo, The Earth Opened and The Judy, Yea, She Was Judged
OF COURSE it goes without saying that I'm real happy that all my Angelino friends are ship shape after their little shakeup yesterday. But I can't stop watching this "Judge Judy" clip and wonder, you know...what might have...
No. I can't go there. Can I?
No. I guess not.
No. I can't go there. Can I?
No. I guess not.
18 To Life
I'M COMING A bit late to this story, but there you go:
I have to admit, I think somewhere down the line I might have opined that these Can-America deals wouldn't last out the strike, but it appears I called that one wrong. Dead wrong.
The more I think about it, too, the more I think this kind of partnership might actually work for comedy better. The drama bar -- you're going to see a lot of the same criticisms you saw with FLASHPOINT. I think TV drama is about our fears and obsessions and Canadians and Americans' obsessions are just different. But we tend to laugh at the same stuff.
And for anyone keeping track, that's two program sales and a format sale for CBC vs. two program sales for CTV.
Uh...go team?
Derek Schreyer and Karen Troubetzkoy created the show and will serve as executive producers. Peter Wellington ("Slings and Arrows") will direct the single-camera pilot.I've heard some great things about this script, though I haven't read it. But it sounds charming. The writers certainly have a track record and Wellington proved with Slings that he's got a nice comic directing touch.
The show is the third Canada-created series to make its way onto a U.S. network in recent months. CBS has found some success this summer with the drama "Flashpoint," and NBC has another drama, "The Listener," on its schedule for the coming season. Additionally, 20th Century Fox TV is planning to remake the Canadian comedy "Little Mosque on the Prairie" for American audiences.
I have to admit, I think somewhere down the line I might have opined that these Can-America deals wouldn't last out the strike, but it appears I called that one wrong. Dead wrong.
The more I think about it, too, the more I think this kind of partnership might actually work for comedy better. The drama bar -- you're going to see a lot of the same criticisms you saw with FLASHPOINT. I think TV drama is about our fears and obsessions and Canadians and Americans' obsessions are just different. But we tend to laugh at the same stuff.
And for anyone keeping track, that's two program sales and a format sale for CBC vs. two program sales for CTV.
Uh...go team?
Getting Brandtastic -- Better For Viewer Choice, But What About Networks?
BRANDING. IT'S ONE of those words that just won’t seem to go away. And outside the advertising industry, it’s not a concept that’s very well understood in the media in Canada.
The old joke says that it takes whatever is the hot trend two years to travel from the United States to Canada. But in the case of broadcast branding, it’s even further behind. I would argue that the last truly successful Canadian broadcast brand that launched was Muchmusic.
Part of the problem with branding successfully is that you really have to know your audience – you have to have solid research, broken down and parsed exactly, and then you have to follow-through with programs – either self-produced or acquired – that almost selfishly and monomaniacly conform to that brand.
In Canada, where the norm is to buy programs and spread’em across your broadcast outlets, shoving square pegs into round holes galore – the dilution of the brand begins almost immediately. This is where you get Alliance Atlantis (now Canwest) jamming CSI:NY and NCIS reruns onto History and calling it “history programming.” When I worked at SPACE, every month or two you’d have to shake your head at some kind of moonshine movie or other inappropriate thing jammed onto the air because it was part of a movie package. Bravo! (who, unlike its U.S. counterpart, didn’t take the savvy step of re-inventing itself as a gay or gay friendly network) fell from running “TV too good for TV” to any kind of crappy movie, so much so that you’d scratch your head and say, “what am I watching?”
The over-the-air broadcast channels don’t do any better, most of the time, for different reasons. Some are ego-related, and some are economic. Actually, most of the time there’s a combination of the two that come into play.
If you look at the U.S. networks, for all their current troubles, most of them have an immediately recognizable brand. ABC has more shows that appeal to women. Most ABC shows have a high-female appeal. CBS is the home of traditional, almost stodgy procedural cop shows, and CSI. It’s no wonder that Flashpoint, despite scoring not-so-stellar American reviews, managed to score in its first few airings: it’s actually a really great fit for CBS.
When the WB morphed into the CW, it lost most of the lustre of the former’s laser-sharp branding of shows designed to appeal to the American teen. And NBC remains mired in the basement largely because its brand is diffuse: the channel that once-sported “must see tv” came late to the reality game, and let its 90’s hit grow too long in the tooth without viable replacements. Same with HBO.
Turn to cable and you see branding even more starkly, because they hang the identity on fewer shows. Damages, Rescue Me, and The Shield all scream F/X – a channel that’s supposed to be not quite as anything-goes as HBO, and delivers programs that speak to that edginess exactly. Then look at USA – who have perfected a formula of off-kilter light detective shows – Monk, Burn Notice, and Psych.
Then there's TNT -- with female friendly tough detectives Kyra Sedgwick (The Closer) and Holly Hunter (Saving Grace). The Closer's the biggest show on cable right now. It MAKES TNT.
The shows make the brand, and the brand makes the money.
But in Canada, for better or worse, the channels here buy from lots of different sources – which means lots of different brands. CTV and Global both have shows from all the U.S. networks, and in some cases, the cable channels too. That means that they try to hang their brand on ephemeral, who gives a shit stuff like promos. (which help to define the channel, but not as much as shows.)
They fire off press releases quibbling over numbers because there really isn’t too much to set them apart.
There’s way less data, too. At a Canadian network you don’t have the spooky drill down psychographic data on viewership that is commonplace at all the U.S. nets. There is the ratings information, which any journalist will tell you is information guarded like the crown jewels, another difference between here and the USA, where the availability of ratings numbers is downright promiscuous.
There’s lots of games to play with ratings, and lots of reasons why you play them, too. Canadian numbers just don’t sound as impressive, first of all, because the country’s a tenth the size of the USA. Second, there’s often games played, like adding together the number watching on your channel, and –thanks to simsub – the U.S. channel too. (This is why CBC will always lag behind the privates – they don’t get to add the people watching on a whole other cable position into their numbers.)
Over the last couple weeks, I was collecting examples from newspapers talking about fashion, TV, music, advertising – all quotes by people explaining how the U.S. was way better at this branding thing than Canada is – but of course, I’ve lost the clippings. D’oh.
Nevertheless, from the inside – there really is not much of a comparison. It’s like calling the guy who took a Cessna up with someone else handling the takeoff and landing calling himself a pilot when he’s sitting beside a USAF Colonel who flies experimental black aircraft out of Nellis AFB in Nevada.
What got me thinking about branding again in the last couple weeks were a few recent events. The first was the extraordinary emergence of AMC over the last year as a new home for top-quality drama. Mad Men and Breaking Bad – just two shows – have erased the image of AMC as that place that shows all the badly edited movies. That’s the power of what a signature program can do for you.
The second thing was the Emmy nominations. John Doyle wrote about the growing split between the families of TV drama – the quality, small audience niche shows that gobble up nominations, critical acclaim, and loyal discerning viewers, and the networks, who increasingly seem to be retreating into cheeseburger tv – which still pulls way more viewers, but in the end, is what it is.
Just as the right wing Republicans don't have a complete hold on "people of faith," neither does the cable audience have a hold of "the smart people" while network tv serves "the dumb people." (Remember this the next time someone starts screaming about the 'dumbing down' of the CBC.)
What I'm saying is that the fight between Cable and Broadcast shows is way more about branding than about the shows themselves. We just happen to be at a historical moment where the explosion in viewing choices and the technologies challenging TV for viewer/citizen attention combine in such a way that - the brand is ever-more important. Men of a certain age will watch Spike and Cartoon Network and nothing else -- unless you give them the show that brings them to you. Then, having brought them, you have to want to keep them and work at it.
I’m fine with both types of TV, by the way. I’ve written one miniseries that aimed for the "cable kind of feel" and I’ve gladly written episodes of the more populist network tv show. (I think the show I’m currently working on is a really good cheeseburger. I’m not sure that’s the opinion of everyone involved, but then again, it’s easier for me to say that because, hello – cheeseburgers are delicious.)
Which brings me to the other side of the TV branding discussion, Canadian flava.
See, all that data and all that money down in the USA has a very focusing effect. It’s all about the Benjamins, honey. And if putting a program that’s off-brand costs you X dollars, well, then that’s a branding driven X-dollar limo to the ash heap for that show.
But none of the Canadian networks – in their original programming – are driven by money. Not exactly. Not completely. Not really.
For CTV and Global, let’s face it, Canadian programming is a loss leader. They make their gelt entirely on those simulcasted American shows. They grudgingly do what Canadian programming they have to do. But that’s not where they make the dosh. And in a world where the brand was less important, that was fine.
The CBC has a different problem. Seeing as they’re funded a little bit by advertising and a lot by you and me, they have a whole mandate under the Broadcasting Act they have to fulfill. They have to reflect Canada. That’s why everybody fights about the CBC – because everyone has an idea of what they should be doing that would better fulfill those rather vague terms. Of course, they also can’t simsub, and they (during the regular season, at least) don’t rely on American programming in prime time.
What else drives the networks? Well, something that also plays in the USA (but not as big as money.)
Ego.
Citytv was a local Toronto brand that took the superstation mentality and ran with it long before Ted Turner thought to do the same thing. From the news to the promos to the very character of the station, Citytv looked like nothing else in the world.
It ran magazine shows like FT or Movie Television that eschewed chirpy v/o and polished film look, for “authentic,” “handheld” and “street level.” (Also: cheap.)
But even before Citytv founder Moses Znaimer was slowly forced out, things started to change. The parent company, CHUM, wanted to be more of a player. They wanted a more corporate look. Instead of “A City tv production,” (a brand that had some funky history) shows started being tagged by “CHUM Television.” (a brand that had none.) And the slice of life people-in-the-city promos were replaced by flashier graphics, similar brand and promo elements. Lot more shooting on film. Lot less heart.
The people then in charge “upscaled the look” of the station. When acquisitions of other stations in other cities caused them to become rebranded Citytv’s, they went for a unified look – promos that used to be charming and idiosyncratic became…just like other stations. They brought in the same news consultants selling the same snake oil they’d sold all over the USA – weather porn, action news-style stuff. They lost what was special about the place, and added a whole wack of Vice Presidents. The ratings went down. There wasn't anything special anymore. No mythos, no heart. I remember in the ten years I taught University -- at the beginning it was the best students saying, "how do I get into Citytv?" and by the end... the ones asking were no longer the best, the brightest, or even the hippest. They'd found other places to go. Hubris and a desire to be a mini-network bled out what was once charming and special about the place.
Now the Citytv’s belong to Rogers, CHUM the corporation is no more (most of it having been absorbed into CTV Globemedia) and though viewers might not know the word “brand” in this context, most would probably agree that the stations that Rogers bought just weren’t the special things they’d been maybe fifteen years ago.
So, as much as we can, when we take a look at the state of the Canadian Broadcast Brands, what do we see?
CBC
CBC identified a problem and a strategy. The problem was that nobody under 50 was watching. (That's a problem for most of TV, but when your funding comes from the Government, it's a much bigger problem -- it allows them to cut you and say you're not relevant.) The strategy it decided on was that it needed to raise its 18-49 but mostly its 25-54 viewing numbers. To show its relevance to Canadians, it would program a middle of the road, straight down the pike strategy of dramas and comedies and information/entertainment programs that tried to have the widest appeal possible. If you talk to Kirstine Leyfield, as I did back in June, she's pretty laser-clear about this. That's what they're doing. They're a year into it. And after having nothing to see on the channel for years, younger viewers are going to take a while to come back. At the very least, you have to view this as a 2 or 3 year rebuilding process.
Now, is that the right strategy? Not for me to say. Plenty of people to argue against it. But the level of argument against the CBC can sometimes be kneejerk and pretty childish -- every interest group wants the thing that it wants, and the worthy arguments (are they starving the news to pay for comedy and drama, and is that a good idea?) gets lost in the ridiculous or provincial (classical music is inherently better and should be played on Radio Two all the time even if only 40 000 coast to coast ever listen)
In this example, then, the CBC is most like a U.S. network, ironically -- they are trying to please the widest possible segment of the populace, and they're pursuing a strategy to that end. Remains to be seen if it ultimately works.
CTV
has grown to super-hegemony by buying the right shows, and by buying up other shows they didn't want to run just so competitors wouldn't get them. They also got lucky with a few homegrown shows that actually hit with an audience. They cherry picked a few cable dramas to give a taste of that kind of programming to the sched, too, with varying results -- The Sopranos did well for them, but Dexter and Mad Men, so far, not so much.
Now their strategy seems to be to aggressively pursue these U.S. deals for indigenous shows. It's a smart win-win, because it allows them to do what they love to do (make money by simulcasting with the U.S. networks) and put the best face on the numbers (Flashpoint scores over a million because you get to count the people watching on CTV PLUS those watching on CBS!)
But these shows, these ersatz American shows, are never going to be loved in the USA. So long as you do shows that are *like* the USA's but slightly...off...that's going to get reflected in the U.S. reviews.
So you win on the bragging rights for the money and the eyeballs - but you're never going to get the love.
And the success of this strategy -- and here's the funny part -- does nothing to build your brand. The thing about Flashpoint is that they can put out as many pressers as they want, but now, boys -- that's a CBS show. You win. But it doesn't help your brand. You're yoked to the USA farther than ever. And in a marketplace moving away from 'casting and toward production -- this baby step aint gonna get you to where you need to be when the floodgates really open.
Global
I don't know. The brand seems to be identical to CTV, but less successful at the moment. They do better with the E! channels -- but even there, it's really borrowed robes, innit?
Now. Remember when I talked about ego and branding? Here's where the other part comes into it.
Mad Men draws a million viewers in the USA. That's a Canadian-sized number. On CTV, it premiered strong around 750 000, but dropped like a stone. It's drawing 200 000 or 300 000 now. Dexter gets in that range too.
Herein lies the number one-brand problem when it comes to Canadian networks pushing material:
It's a fundamental disconnect. A misunderstanding of the marketplace.
Those challenging, cable-like dramas are never going to get network numbers. Which in Canada means 1 million to 3 million viewers. It's NEVER going to happen. Ever. Ever. Evah.
But Lordy, they do get respect. So it strikes me that there's an opportunity here. Either the CBC, CTV, and Global can all lemming-like, try to place these dramas that are American-lite, that will get put on in the summer and tepidly reviewed and worsen the problem of being exactly the same.
Or...
Somebody can step up and try to be bold and say, "we're not going to go for big number viewers on this show because who cares, that's not how we make our money. We're in the simulcast business. But we're also going to develop and air and fund only the best, most interesting, edgy or funny or scabrous dramas and comedies. They're going to win awards. They're going to get great reviews. They're going to be things that we can be proud of."
Somebody can make Six Feet Under. And promote it, and air it, and know that it might only get 200 000. But it will win Emmys and travel round the world ...
...and you might get an honest to goodness brand out of it.
The path has been blazed. Personal shows like Slings & Arrows, or Trailer Park Boys have already been noticed. DaVinci's Inquest shows at 3am in the USA, but those who find it say, "whoa, this is actually different." In the UK, BBC 2 and BBC 4 and Channel 4 all have vastly different brands in the public's mind based on their original programming.
One more thing: in the context of those numbers, CBC already did this and turned away: Intelligence, with its faithful audience in the 250 000 range -- was, in fact, a cable niche show on the CBC. You could make the case that Jpod was the same thing (I wouldn't, but hell, you could -- and maybe if more Jpod eps had been like the ones I saw at the end of the run, maybe I'd agree.)
But CBC has set their strategy -- they want the populist numbers. So those are the shows to take to them. Now, would that they are wise enough to greenlight those kinds of shows.
But Global or CTV could be the F/X of Canada in original production, while still making their dosh in their real business -- at least until that business goes away.
Realign the thinking of executives and creatives and you could wind up with good reviews, stroking of the whole ego, and shows you could actually hang a brand on.
Again, all it takes is someone to be bold.
In Canad..
oh shit.
The old joke says that it takes whatever is the hot trend two years to travel from the United States to Canada. But in the case of broadcast branding, it’s even further behind. I would argue that the last truly successful Canadian broadcast brand that launched was Muchmusic.
Part of the problem with branding successfully is that you really have to know your audience – you have to have solid research, broken down and parsed exactly, and then you have to follow-through with programs – either self-produced or acquired – that almost selfishly and monomaniacly conform to that brand.
In Canada, where the norm is to buy programs and spread’em across your broadcast outlets, shoving square pegs into round holes galore – the dilution of the brand begins almost immediately. This is where you get Alliance Atlantis (now Canwest) jamming CSI:NY and NCIS reruns onto History and calling it “history programming.” When I worked at SPACE, every month or two you’d have to shake your head at some kind of moonshine movie or other inappropriate thing jammed onto the air because it was part of a movie package. Bravo! (who, unlike its U.S. counterpart, didn’t take the savvy step of re-inventing itself as a gay or gay friendly network) fell from running “TV too good for TV” to any kind of crappy movie, so much so that you’d scratch your head and say, “what am I watching?”
The over-the-air broadcast channels don’t do any better, most of the time, for different reasons. Some are ego-related, and some are economic. Actually, most of the time there’s a combination of the two that come into play.
If you look at the U.S. networks, for all their current troubles, most of them have an immediately recognizable brand. ABC has more shows that appeal to women. Most ABC shows have a high-female appeal. CBS is the home of traditional, almost stodgy procedural cop shows, and CSI. It’s no wonder that Flashpoint, despite scoring not-so-stellar American reviews, managed to score in its first few airings: it’s actually a really great fit for CBS.
When the WB morphed into the CW, it lost most of the lustre of the former’s laser-sharp branding of shows designed to appeal to the American teen. And NBC remains mired in the basement largely because its brand is diffuse: the channel that once-sported “must see tv” came late to the reality game, and let its 90’s hit grow too long in the tooth without viable replacements. Same with HBO.
Shows, not Promos -- Make the Brand
Turn to cable and you see branding even more starkly, because they hang the identity on fewer shows. Damages, Rescue Me, and The Shield all scream F/X – a channel that’s supposed to be not quite as anything-goes as HBO, and delivers programs that speak to that edginess exactly. Then look at USA – who have perfected a formula of off-kilter light detective shows – Monk, Burn Notice, and Psych.
Then there's TNT -- with female friendly tough detectives Kyra Sedgwick (The Closer) and Holly Hunter (Saving Grace). The Closer's the biggest show on cable right now. It MAKES TNT.
The shows make the brand, and the brand makes the money.
But in Canada, for better or worse, the channels here buy from lots of different sources – which means lots of different brands. CTV and Global both have shows from all the U.S. networks, and in some cases, the cable channels too. That means that they try to hang their brand on ephemeral, who gives a shit stuff like promos. (which help to define the channel, but not as much as shows.)
They fire off press releases quibbling over numbers because there really isn’t too much to set them apart.
There’s way less data, too. At a Canadian network you don’t have the spooky drill down psychographic data on viewership that is commonplace at all the U.S. nets. There is the ratings information, which any journalist will tell you is information guarded like the crown jewels, another difference between here and the USA, where the availability of ratings numbers is downright promiscuous.
There’s lots of games to play with ratings, and lots of reasons why you play them, too. Canadian numbers just don’t sound as impressive, first of all, because the country’s a tenth the size of the USA. Second, there’s often games played, like adding together the number watching on your channel, and –thanks to simsub – the U.S. channel too. (This is why CBC will always lag behind the privates – they don’t get to add the people watching on a whole other cable position into their numbers.)
Over the last couple weeks, I was collecting examples from newspapers talking about fashion, TV, music, advertising – all quotes by people explaining how the U.S. was way better at this branding thing than Canada is – but of course, I’ve lost the clippings. D’oh.
Nevertheless, from the inside – there really is not much of a comparison. It’s like calling the guy who took a Cessna up with someone else handling the takeoff and landing calling himself a pilot when he’s sitting beside a USAF Colonel who flies experimental black aircraft out of Nellis AFB in Nevada.
What got me thinking about branding again in the last couple weeks were a few recent events. The first was the extraordinary emergence of AMC over the last year as a new home for top-quality drama. Mad Men and Breaking Bad – just two shows – have erased the image of AMC as that place that shows all the badly edited movies. That’s the power of what a signature program can do for you.
Two Audiences?
The second thing was the Emmy nominations. John Doyle wrote about the growing split between the families of TV drama – the quality, small audience niche shows that gobble up nominations, critical acclaim, and loyal discerning viewers, and the networks, who increasingly seem to be retreating into cheeseburger tv – which still pulls way more viewers, but in the end, is what it is.
Just as there are now two kinds of TV being made, there are two kinds of audience. There are those who watch CSI or Law & Order, and might watch Wipeout; and there are those who watch only Mad Men, The Shield, Damages and all those HBO dramas.Though I think he's largely right, I shy away from the us and them of it all, because I think it plays into a very reductive view of TV. It's true that many of the large audience for Broadcast TV would never cross over to one of the more challenging cable dramas...but I'm not sure that it goes the other way. I like to think that the number of people who will watch Mad Men but not CSI or House, or whatever -- is small. They'd have to be terrible snobs, and I'm not sure the terrible snob demo is as big as, well...snobs think it is.
Just as the right wing Republicans don't have a complete hold on "people of faith," neither does the cable audience have a hold of "the smart people" while network tv serves "the dumb people." (Remember this the next time someone starts screaming about the 'dumbing down' of the CBC.)
What I'm saying is that the fight between Cable and Broadcast shows is way more about branding than about the shows themselves. We just happen to be at a historical moment where the explosion in viewing choices and the technologies challenging TV for viewer/citizen attention combine in such a way that - the brand is ever-more important. Men of a certain age will watch Spike and Cartoon Network and nothing else -- unless you give them the show that brings them to you. Then, having brought them, you have to want to keep them and work at it.
I’m fine with both types of TV, by the way. I’ve written one miniseries that aimed for the "cable kind of feel" and I’ve gladly written episodes of the more populist network tv show. (I think the show I’m currently working on is a really good cheeseburger. I’m not sure that’s the opinion of everyone involved, but then again, it’s easier for me to say that because, hello – cheeseburgers are delicious.)
Which brings me to the other side of the TV branding discussion, Canadian flava.
See, all that data and all that money down in the USA has a very focusing effect. It’s all about the Benjamins, honey. And if putting a program that’s off-brand costs you X dollars, well, then that’s a branding driven X-dollar limo to the ash heap for that show.
But none of the Canadian networks – in their original programming – are driven by money. Not exactly. Not completely. Not really.
For CTV and Global, let’s face it, Canadian programming is a loss leader. They make their gelt entirely on those simulcasted American shows. They grudgingly do what Canadian programming they have to do. But that’s not where they make the dosh. And in a world where the brand was less important, that was fine.
The CBC has a different problem. Seeing as they’re funded a little bit by advertising and a lot by you and me, they have a whole mandate under the Broadcasting Act they have to fulfill. They have to reflect Canada. That’s why everybody fights about the CBC – because everyone has an idea of what they should be doing that would better fulfill those rather vague terms. Of course, they also can’t simsub, and they (during the regular season, at least) don’t rely on American programming in prime time.
What else drives the networks? Well, something that also plays in the USA (but not as big as money.)
Ego.
How Ego Can Wreck a Brand
Citytv was a local Toronto brand that took the superstation mentality and ran with it long before Ted Turner thought to do the same thing. From the news to the promos to the very character of the station, Citytv looked like nothing else in the world.
It ran magazine shows like FT or Movie Television that eschewed chirpy v/o and polished film look, for “authentic,” “handheld” and “street level.” (Also: cheap.)
But even before Citytv founder Moses Znaimer was slowly forced out, things started to change. The parent company, CHUM, wanted to be more of a player. They wanted a more corporate look. Instead of “A City tv production,” (a brand that had some funky history) shows started being tagged by “CHUM Television.” (a brand that had none.) And the slice of life people-in-the-city promos were replaced by flashier graphics, similar brand and promo elements. Lot more shooting on film. Lot less heart.
The people then in charge “upscaled the look” of the station. When acquisitions of other stations in other cities caused them to become rebranded Citytv’s, they went for a unified look – promos that used to be charming and idiosyncratic became…just like other stations. They brought in the same news consultants selling the same snake oil they’d sold all over the USA – weather porn, action news-style stuff. They lost what was special about the place, and added a whole wack of Vice Presidents. The ratings went down. There wasn't anything special anymore. No mythos, no heart. I remember in the ten years I taught University -- at the beginning it was the best students saying, "how do I get into Citytv?" and by the end... the ones asking were no longer the best, the brightest, or even the hippest. They'd found other places to go. Hubris and a desire to be a mini-network bled out what was once charming and special about the place.
Now the Citytv’s belong to Rogers, CHUM the corporation is no more (most of it having been absorbed into CTV Globemedia) and though viewers might not know the word “brand” in this context, most would probably agree that the stations that Rogers bought just weren’t the special things they’d been maybe fifteen years ago.
So, as much as we can, when we take a look at the state of the Canadian Broadcast Brands, what do we see?
CBC
CBC identified a problem and a strategy. The problem was that nobody under 50 was watching. (That's a problem for most of TV, but when your funding comes from the Government, it's a much bigger problem -- it allows them to cut you and say you're not relevant.) The strategy it decided on was that it needed to raise its 18-49 but mostly its 25-54 viewing numbers. To show its relevance to Canadians, it would program a middle of the road, straight down the pike strategy of dramas and comedies and information/entertainment programs that tried to have the widest appeal possible. If you talk to Kirstine Leyfield, as I did back in June, she's pretty laser-clear about this. That's what they're doing. They're a year into it. And after having nothing to see on the channel for years, younger viewers are going to take a while to come back. At the very least, you have to view this as a 2 or 3 year rebuilding process.
Now, is that the right strategy? Not for me to say. Plenty of people to argue against it. But the level of argument against the CBC can sometimes be kneejerk and pretty childish -- every interest group wants the thing that it wants, and the worthy arguments (are they starving the news to pay for comedy and drama, and is that a good idea?) gets lost in the ridiculous or provincial (classical music is inherently better and should be played on Radio Two all the time even if only 40 000 coast to coast ever listen)
In this example, then, the CBC is most like a U.S. network, ironically -- they are trying to please the widest possible segment of the populace, and they're pursuing a strategy to that end. Remains to be seen if it ultimately works.
CTV
has grown to super-hegemony by buying the right shows, and by buying up other shows they didn't want to run just so competitors wouldn't get them. They also got lucky with a few homegrown shows that actually hit with an audience. They cherry picked a few cable dramas to give a taste of that kind of programming to the sched, too, with varying results -- The Sopranos did well for them, but Dexter and Mad Men, so far, not so much.
Now their strategy seems to be to aggressively pursue these U.S. deals for indigenous shows. It's a smart win-win, because it allows them to do what they love to do (make money by simulcasting with the U.S. networks) and put the best face on the numbers (Flashpoint scores over a million because you get to count the people watching on CTV PLUS those watching on CBS!)
But these shows, these ersatz American shows, are never going to be loved in the USA. So long as you do shows that are *like* the USA's but slightly...off...that's going to get reflected in the U.S. reviews.
So you win on the bragging rights for the money and the eyeballs - but you're never going to get the love.
And the success of this strategy -- and here's the funny part -- does nothing to build your brand. The thing about Flashpoint is that they can put out as many pressers as they want, but now, boys -- that's a CBS show. You win. But it doesn't help your brand. You're yoked to the USA farther than ever. And in a marketplace moving away from 'casting and toward production -- this baby step aint gonna get you to where you need to be when the floodgates really open.
Global
I don't know. The brand seems to be identical to CTV, but less successful at the moment. They do better with the E! channels -- but even there, it's really borrowed robes, innit?
Let Ego Lead You To The Brand?
Now. Remember when I talked about ego and branding? Here's where the other part comes into it.
Mad Men draws a million viewers in the USA. That's a Canadian-sized number. On CTV, it premiered strong around 750 000, but dropped like a stone. It's drawing 200 000 or 300 000 now. Dexter gets in that range too.
Herein lies the number one-brand problem when it comes to Canadian networks pushing material:
They all ask for Six Feet Under, but they want it to get CSI numbers.
It's a fundamental disconnect. A misunderstanding of the marketplace.
Those challenging, cable-like dramas are never going to get network numbers. Which in Canada means 1 million to 3 million viewers. It's NEVER going to happen. Ever. Ever. Evah.
But Lordy, they do get respect. So it strikes me that there's an opportunity here. Either the CBC, CTV, and Global can all lemming-like, try to place these dramas that are American-lite, that will get put on in the summer and tepidly reviewed and worsen the problem of being exactly the same.
Or...
Somebody can step up and try to be bold and say, "we're not going to go for big number viewers on this show because who cares, that's not how we make our money. We're in the simulcast business. But we're also going to develop and air and fund only the best, most interesting, edgy or funny or scabrous dramas and comedies. They're going to win awards. They're going to get great reviews. They're going to be things that we can be proud of."
Somebody can make Six Feet Under. And promote it, and air it, and know that it might only get 200 000. But it will win Emmys and travel round the world ...
...and you might get an honest to goodness brand out of it.
Intelligence drew just as many viewers as Mad Men & Dexter
The path has been blazed. Personal shows like Slings & Arrows, or Trailer Park Boys have already been noticed. DaVinci's Inquest shows at 3am in the USA, but those who find it say, "whoa, this is actually different." In the UK, BBC 2 and BBC 4 and Channel 4 all have vastly different brands in the public's mind based on their original programming.
One more thing: in the context of those numbers, CBC already did this and turned away: Intelligence, with its faithful audience in the 250 000 range -- was, in fact, a cable niche show on the CBC. You could make the case that Jpod was the same thing (I wouldn't, but hell, you could -- and maybe if more Jpod eps had been like the ones I saw at the end of the run, maybe I'd agree.)
But CBC has set their strategy -- they want the populist numbers. So those are the shows to take to them. Now, would that they are wise enough to greenlight those kinds of shows.
But Global or CTV could be the F/X of Canada in original production, while still making their dosh in their real business -- at least until that business goes away.
Realign the thinking of executives and creatives and you could wind up with good reviews, stroking of the whole ego, and shows you could actually hang a brand on.
Again, all it takes is someone to be bold.
In Canad..
oh shit.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Why We Made The IPA Deal.
TERMS OF TRADE. Get used to that phrase, since if you work in Film and TV production in Canada, you're going to be hearing a lot about it over the next little while.
Basically, what's happening right now is that Producers are trying to set down rights sharing agreements with the Broadcasters -- specifically in the area of new media.
Through other decisions, notably by allowing the mergers that eliminated first Craig, then Chum, then Alliance Atlantis as independent broadcast entities, the CRTC has created a powerful class of broadcaster goliaths who seemingly can call all the shots in dictating what they require from a Producer to make a sale.
Producers in the last few years have seen the demands from channels increase: webisodes, various rights and ancillary materials are being requested for a shrinking pot of money. It's made the margins Producers have to exploit their wares razor thin.
There's other stuff going on behind the scenes, too. Did you know, for instance, that Canadian broadcasters put less of their own money into license fees than just about any other commissioning broadcaster in the world? It's true. In some cases these days it's dropped to less than thirty percent of the budget. I'm sure somebody somewhere has the details from country to country -- but the last time I saw them they were astounding.
Anyway, this fight right now is why the CFTPA and the corresponding Quebec union gave Writers a good deal on the 1 year extension of our IPA.
A backgrounder on the "terms of trade" negotiations is available here. An excerpt:
Basically, what's happening right now is that Producers are trying to set down rights sharing agreements with the Broadcasters -- specifically in the area of new media.
Through other decisions, notably by allowing the mergers that eliminated first Craig, then Chum, then Alliance Atlantis as independent broadcast entities, the CRTC has created a powerful class of broadcaster goliaths who seemingly can call all the shots in dictating what they require from a Producer to make a sale.
Producers in the last few years have seen the demands from channels increase: webisodes, various rights and ancillary materials are being requested for a shrinking pot of money. It's made the margins Producers have to exploit their wares razor thin.
There's other stuff going on behind the scenes, too. Did you know, for instance, that Canadian broadcasters put less of their own money into license fees than just about any other commissioning broadcaster in the world? It's true. In some cases these days it's dropped to less than thirty percent of the budget. I'm sure somebody somewhere has the details from country to country -- but the last time I saw them they were astounding.
Anyway, this fight right now is why the CFTPA and the corresponding Quebec union gave Writers a good deal on the 1 year extension of our IPA.
A backgrounder on the "terms of trade" negotiations is available here. An excerpt:
Last week, various unions and guilds representing professional performers, directors and screenwriters wasted no time throwing their "strong support" behind Mayson and his team.
"We support the independent producers' position that equitable terms of trade agreements are needed to secure fairer deals for program rights," stated Stephen Waddell, national executive director of ACTRA.
"Reaching fair terms for granting rights is a struggle with which we are familiar."
Brian Anthony, national executive director of the Directors Guild of Canada, said terms of trade deals are key to ensuring the production sector continues to have sufficient "financial capacity."
The framework agreements, they added in a joint statement, would help diminish "severe imbalances in negotiating power" caused by a wave of mega-mergers in the broadcasting sector in recent years.
Notable transactions include the $2.3 billion acquisition of Alliance Atlantis Communications Inc. by CanWest and United States investment bank Goldman Sachs & Co. There was also CTVglobemedia's $1.4 billion takeover of CHUM Ltd. and a subsequent deal under which Rogers Media Inc. bought five Citytv television stations from CTVglobemedia for $375 million.
Maureen Parker, executive director of the Writers Guild of Canada, suggested that broadcasters have become the "gatekeepers" of Canadian programming.
"This in itself gives them powerful leverage when dealing with producers, and the imbalance of negotiating power has only been exacerbated by the broadcaster mergers of recent years," she said.
"If producers are pressured into granting broadcasters program rights for little or nothing, screenwriters and the creative community are impoverished as a result."
Monday, July 28, 2008
Trouble Down At Mill
IT'S BEEN AN odd summer in the Canadian TV writing racket.
Last week, another Showrunner was fired off an in-production Canadian series. Tally up the writers (not all of them Showrunner-level) who have been let go, hustled out, demoted or superseded in the last few months, and so far as I can see the only top level shows that haven't experienced this degree of turmoil are Corner Gas, Murdoch Mysteries, The Border and Little Mosque. (And Little Mosque had a shuffle and turnover between Season 2 and 3.)
These kinds of changes and the unrest they suggest are significant not just for writers, but everybody working in Canadian TV. I believe the below-the-line people will have noticed by now, as the brand-new Filmport Studio in Toronto sits empty -- domestic series production is the only thing keeping people afloat right now.
Vancouver, I know your situation is different. But remember the WGA strike wasn't so long ago. Relying on the foreign service shoot hasn't done your production community any favors lately, either.
I know plenty of people out there are hurting. But it's quite a change from a few years ago when service production kept everyone humming and bought grips and electrics houses, while the writers reeled from the 1999 CRTC decision that cut the number of Canadian series in half overnight. Now, as the domestic picture slowly improves, things should be getting more stable. But yet there's all this turmoil.
What's going wrong? What exactly is the issue out there in writerland?
Some might point to the USA and say that there are replacements and changes made there too. And that's true. And there have been more of them in the last year than in previous seasons. If you read the Stepakoff book or follow Kay Reindl you might have some insight into what's going wrong there.
I think the business has been hurt more than it realizes by the breakdown in the mentoring and rising through the ranks that used to obtain. The WGA Showrunner program is trying to fill a gap that the breakdown in the system has made ever-more evident. The flip in power between network and production company hasn't helped things, either.
But the ratio of turmoil and turnover in the U.S. market is far lower than here. We simply have too few shows here to have the level of turnover we seem to be recently experiencing. Add to that the fact that in our brave new world of making pilots -- we don't actually seem to be fixing any of the problems getting a show up and running that a pilot is supposed to solve, and the elephant in the room becomes: "what really is going on here?"
In Canada, we have programs like the NSI, and the CFC and Canwest's new "Showrunner Training Program" trying to train people. In the case of the latter, though, you have to wonder at the value of the nascent program when it imports U.S. showrunners who don't know the challenges of lower Canadian budgets, or the peculiarities of the system here. Anecdotally, I guess there's some value to hearing how the pros in L.A. do it. But when you mix 'emerging writers' and 'showrunner trainees' in the same group, and don't deal with the real nitty-gritty problems that Canadian shows run into getting made -- the problems that even the networks here don't know about, you have to ask, "is this actually dealing with the problem at hand?"
Similarly, the CFC and the NSI send out new writers with series proposals. Some get optioned, fewer get made. But if there's a problem in talent management and system organization (and clearly there is) what value is there in injecting somone who doesn't have managerial experience, or even real-show experience, into the mix? Even as the CFC currently interviews potential new residents, I worry that when they graduate we're going to be throwing them to the wolves. Is the kind of attitude you see from emerging writers in threads like this and this helping, or is it making the problem worse? I know for a fact that when I came out of the Film Centre that I had a very, very different attitude about how I wanted to conduct the next few years of my career than I hear reflected back to me by the newer crop. Are new writers learning bad habits? Is that feeding the fire, here? Is the infatuation at the networks with "new writers" leading to management problems down the line? Are they being built up too much? Is this the best way to engender and build long careers?
Every series that's fired or replaced a writer this summer has got their own set of challenges and issues...so I don't want to generalize too much...but anecdotally, from what I've heard, I think all those problems have a common root:
Bad communication.
There's a peculiarity to the creative struggle here, that's got a particularly Canadian flavor to it. And that's the dominance of the passive-aggressive personality. Series, even Canadian series, are huge businesses. You're talking about a business that can employ a hundred people, and run through 20, 25 million dollars in the course of a season, in the case of the most expensive shows.
Yet it seems like rather than confronting problems as they arise, and negotiating the perilous creative waters, instead all there is is backroom maneuvering here and there and nothing happens until the drastic change is made.
I once heard what I thought was the best definition of a producer ever: "the person who can have any fight that needs to be had in under five minutes."
Avoiding the fight isn't a solution. Neither is putting off decisions. I've heard story of shows where producers argued over competing visions for what a show should be for the entire run of a show -- never coming to any accomodation or solution. No way you get a good product out of that.
In the midst of turmoil, the fear is that everyone will use this to push back on their own agendas:
There's elements of truth in all of these, and probably half a dozen other theories, too. How do agents fit into the mix, for instance? What are they saying to their clients about how to be professional?
Becausee at the end of the day I think that's what this is. It's an issue of communication and professionalism.
Call a problem a problem. Then talk about how to solve it. Out in the open, head on, before it festers. Yes, it might make you uncomfortable. It might even make you feel icky. But there's too much money and creative energy at stake not to do it.
There's trouble down at mill. What are we going to do about it?
Last week, another Showrunner was fired off an in-production Canadian series. Tally up the writers (not all of them Showrunner-level) who have been let go, hustled out, demoted or superseded in the last few months, and so far as I can see the only top level shows that haven't experienced this degree of turmoil are Corner Gas, Murdoch Mysteries, The Border and Little Mosque. (And Little Mosque had a shuffle and turnover between Season 2 and 3.)
These kinds of changes and the unrest they suggest are significant not just for writers, but everybody working in Canadian TV. I believe the below-the-line people will have noticed by now, as the brand-new Filmport Studio in Toronto sits empty -- domestic series production is the only thing keeping people afloat right now.
Vancouver, I know your situation is different. But remember the WGA strike wasn't so long ago. Relying on the foreign service shoot hasn't done your production community any favors lately, either.
I know plenty of people out there are hurting. But it's quite a change from a few years ago when service production kept everyone humming and bought grips and electrics houses, while the writers reeled from the 1999 CRTC decision that cut the number of Canadian series in half overnight. Now, as the domestic picture slowly improves, things should be getting more stable. But yet there's all this turmoil.
What's going wrong? What exactly is the issue out there in writerland?
Some might point to the USA and say that there are replacements and changes made there too. And that's true. And there have been more of them in the last year than in previous seasons. If you read the Stepakoff book or follow Kay Reindl you might have some insight into what's going wrong there.
I think the business has been hurt more than it realizes by the breakdown in the mentoring and rising through the ranks that used to obtain. The WGA Showrunner program is trying to fill a gap that the breakdown in the system has made ever-more evident. The flip in power between network and production company hasn't helped things, either.
But the ratio of turmoil and turnover in the U.S. market is far lower than here. We simply have too few shows here to have the level of turnover we seem to be recently experiencing. Add to that the fact that in our brave new world of making pilots -- we don't actually seem to be fixing any of the problems getting a show up and running that a pilot is supposed to solve, and the elephant in the room becomes: "what really is going on here?"
In Canada, we have programs like the NSI, and the CFC and Canwest's new "Showrunner Training Program" trying to train people. In the case of the latter, though, you have to wonder at the value of the nascent program when it imports U.S. showrunners who don't know the challenges of lower Canadian budgets, or the peculiarities of the system here. Anecdotally, I guess there's some value to hearing how the pros in L.A. do it. But when you mix 'emerging writers' and 'showrunner trainees' in the same group, and don't deal with the real nitty-gritty problems that Canadian shows run into getting made -- the problems that even the networks here don't know about, you have to ask, "is this actually dealing with the problem at hand?"
Similarly, the CFC and the NSI send out new writers with series proposals. Some get optioned, fewer get made. But if there's a problem in talent management and system organization (and clearly there is) what value is there in injecting somone who doesn't have managerial experience, or even real-show experience, into the mix? Even as the CFC currently interviews potential new residents, I worry that when they graduate we're going to be throwing them to the wolves. Is the kind of attitude you see from emerging writers in threads like this and this helping, or is it making the problem worse? I know for a fact that when I came out of the Film Centre that I had a very, very different attitude about how I wanted to conduct the next few years of my career than I hear reflected back to me by the newer crop. Are new writers learning bad habits? Is that feeding the fire, here? Is the infatuation at the networks with "new writers" leading to management problems down the line? Are they being built up too much? Is this the best way to engender and build long careers?
Every series that's fired or replaced a writer this summer has got their own set of challenges and issues...so I don't want to generalize too much...but anecdotally, from what I've heard, I think all those problems have a common root:
Bad communication.
There's a peculiarity to the creative struggle here, that's got a particularly Canadian flavor to it. And that's the dominance of the passive-aggressive personality. Series, even Canadian series, are huge businesses. You're talking about a business that can employ a hundred people, and run through 20, 25 million dollars in the course of a season, in the case of the most expensive shows.
Yet it seems like rather than confronting problems as they arise, and negotiating the perilous creative waters, instead all there is is backroom maneuvering here and there and nothing happens until the drastic change is made.
I once heard what I thought was the best definition of a producer ever: "the person who can have any fight that needs to be had in under five minutes."
Avoiding the fight isn't a solution. Neither is putting off decisions. I've heard story of shows where producers argued over competing visions for what a show should be for the entire run of a show -- never coming to any accomodation or solution. No way you get a good product out of that.
In the midst of turmoil, the fear is that everyone will use this to push back on their own agendas:
- Writers will say that it's an example of not trusting the Showrunner.
- Producers will say that it's an example of writers getting too much power.
- Everyone will say that networks aren't picking the right shows or approving the right writers to staff them.
There's elements of truth in all of these, and probably half a dozen other theories, too. How do agents fit into the mix, for instance? What are they saying to their clients about how to be professional?
Becausee at the end of the day I think that's what this is. It's an issue of communication and professionalism.
Call a problem a problem. Then talk about how to solve it. Out in the open, head on, before it festers. Yes, it might make you uncomfortable. It might even make you feel icky. But there's too much money and creative energy at stake not to do it.
There's trouble down at mill. What are we going to do about it?
Friday, July 25, 2008
Jill Vs The Noobs
JILL GOLICK points out the thing that doesn't often get talked about in Canada; but should give pause to new writers looking to get their start.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Random Humbling Moment #478
SO IN THE last couple days, we were out on location shoots. And they were tough days. High scene counts, far out in the city, with busy streets that needed to be blocked off or traffic stopped in two minute increments. And there was rain. And bugs. And the fact that we were up against it, much of the day.
I've seen it a few times now. You look at your watch about six hours into the day and think, "we. are. screwed." Visions of having the plug pulled on you at two hours overtime keep you awake and terrified.
And then, slowly but surely, the crew catches up. They hustle a little more. Lighting that was going to take twenty minutes takes ten. The blocking goes quicker. Grips run. Electrics swear and reset mightily. The AD calls for finals and they're already done.
And all of this is done while they're getting more tired.
And you make your day.
It's a pretty impressive thing to see.
And one more random fact: unlike Toronto, where everyone's dire and shot out -- when you shoot on a residential street in Unionville -- the neighbours come out at the end of the day and bring you home baked cookies.
I kid you not.
Thanks, Maple Drive, and Unionville, and the hardworking crew of The Border, now up at Sheridan College, doing what they do. Episode 204, "Nothing to Declare," is wrapped.
The Director, Michael DeCarlo, is on a plane to Calgary, ready to start work on "The Wild Roses," after leaving behind some very classy calling cards. See you in September, Michael. Guest actors Matt Deslippe, Reagan Pasternak, Tamara Bernier Evans, Marie Ward, and Bruce Hunter made me laugh on every take. It seems like a thousand years since we started with David Fox in a former bar on Dundas, even though it was only about 10 days ago. It can be a great lot 'o fun, makin a fun little TV show.
But now, I'm back riding a desk where I belong.
I've seen it a few times now. You look at your watch about six hours into the day and think, "we. are. screwed." Visions of having the plug pulled on you at two hours overtime keep you awake and terrified.
And then, slowly but surely, the crew catches up. They hustle a little more. Lighting that was going to take twenty minutes takes ten. The blocking goes quicker. Grips run. Electrics swear and reset mightily. The AD calls for finals and they're already done.
And all of this is done while they're getting more tired.
And you make your day.
It's a pretty impressive thing to see.
And one more random fact: unlike Toronto, where everyone's dire and shot out -- when you shoot on a residential street in Unionville -- the neighbours come out at the end of the day and bring you home baked cookies.
I kid you not.
Thanks, Maple Drive, and Unionville, and the hardworking crew of The Border, now up at Sheridan College, doing what they do. Episode 204, "Nothing to Declare," is wrapped.
The Director, Michael DeCarlo, is on a plane to Calgary, ready to start work on "The Wild Roses," after leaving behind some very classy calling cards. See you in September, Michael. Guest actors Matt Deslippe, Reagan Pasternak, Tamara Bernier Evans, Marie Ward, and Bruce Hunter made me laugh on every take. It seems like a thousand years since we started with David Fox in a former bar on Dundas, even though it was only about 10 days ago. It can be a great lot 'o fun, makin a fun little TV show.
But now, I'm back riding a desk where I belong.
P.S.A. Service To Writers: Clam Bake '08
THERE NOW, my brothers and sisters. My kingdom for some calamine lotion. Those skeeters sure can bite. Today the writer returns to his natural habitat - the warren like office with the Herman Miller chair. Oh how the forest creatures will dance and the mosquitos weep for the loss of so tasty a price.
They can suck it.
If you notice the results of the poll at left, you may note that "Did I say that out loud?" won handily in our poll of the worst clams in movies and tv, with a dominant 40% of poll respondents choosing it over such worthy contenders as "I'm getting too old for this shit," and "I have a bad feeling about this," which tied with 27%. No doubt some of that had to do with the always TV quotable Jaime Weinman weighing in and agitating for a big smackdown against DISTOL?.
Well, Weinman, you got what you wanted. But oh, the price, the price -- because by messing with the forces of nature, you might have something to do with the comparitively minty-fresh score of "Well, that happened," which only annoyed 3% of poll takers.
Writers: "Well, that happened" is still viable. Insert this ironic aside into your scripts immediately via the smart, ironic, funny sidekick with all deliberate speed.
See what you did? Damn you, Weinman!
Actually, I find the concept of the clam to be endlessly fascinating on a wonk/geek writer level. It's right up there with the provenance of slang -- why some slang words and phrases remain evergreen, [see: cool] while others date horribly [vis: rad, homeboy, "let me rap with you,"], others never really break out of their regional usage [chesterfield, bollocks, wicked] and still others wind up, hilariously coming out of the mouths of U.S. presidents. [See W.'s sad romance of the awesome.]
But back to clams. It strikes me that we haven't talked about that for a while, so I'd like to throw that open to the madding crowd. What's the most egregious clam that's out there right now? Now, now -- let's stay on point here, chilluns. I'm not talking story or visual stuff here. Let's keep it strictly on the dialogue-low. Things people say in TV and films that are supposed to be jokes, but that have become so shopworn as to be utter hackery. Go to town.
BTW, I think the whole clammy clam debate really should have been cured by the internet. I remember with glee being on Charlie Jade and being in South Africa and wondering if the dialogue phrase I was putting in was too stock, too cheap. Enter Google-in-quotes, and you see the page count with that exact phrase? Instant perspective my friends. Instant perspective.
They can suck it.
If you notice the results of the poll at left, you may note that "Did I say that out loud?" won handily in our poll of the worst clams in movies and tv, with a dominant 40% of poll respondents choosing it over such worthy contenders as "I'm getting too old for this shit," and "I have a bad feeling about this," which tied with 27%. No doubt some of that had to do with the always TV quotable Jaime Weinman weighing in and agitating for a big smackdown against DISTOL?.
Well, Weinman, you got what you wanted. But oh, the price, the price -- because by messing with the forces of nature, you might have something to do with the comparitively minty-fresh score of "Well, that happened," which only annoyed 3% of poll takers.
Writers: "Well, that happened" is still viable. Insert this ironic aside into your scripts immediately via the smart, ironic, funny sidekick with all deliberate speed.
See what you did? Damn you, Weinman!
Actually, I find the concept of the clam to be endlessly fascinating on a wonk/geek writer level. It's right up there with the provenance of slang -- why some slang words and phrases remain evergreen, [see: cool] while others date horribly [vis: rad, homeboy, "let me rap with you,"], others never really break out of their regional usage [chesterfield, bollocks, wicked] and still others wind up, hilariously coming out of the mouths of U.S. presidents. [See W.'s sad romance of the awesome.]
But back to clams. It strikes me that we haven't talked about that for a while, so I'd like to throw that open to the madding crowd. What's the most egregious clam that's out there right now? Now, now -- let's stay on point here, chilluns. I'm not talking story or visual stuff here. Let's keep it strictly on the dialogue-low. Things people say in TV and films that are supposed to be jokes, but that have become so shopworn as to be utter hackery. Go to town.
BTW, I think the whole clammy clam debate really should have been cured by the internet. I remember with glee being on Charlie Jade and being in South Africa and wondering if the dialogue phrase I was putting in was too stock, too cheap. Enter Google-in-quotes, and you see the page count with that exact phrase? Instant perspective my friends. Instant perspective.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Do Not Adjust Your Blog
WELL WELL, so many riches. The WGC contract extension passed -- which is good news for all Canadian writers. Flashpoint is on the move to Thursday, which is probably good move for that show, and the pilot to Pretty Handsome is probably the best thing I've seen since the pilot to Breaking Bad. But all that has to wait as I'm on the road to Mimico. Day 7 of 7.
Normal scribbling resumes tomorrow.
Normal scribbling resumes tomorrow.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Freelancers, really? Part Three
IN PART ONE and TWO of this post, I went into the value of having a writing class in the Canadian Film and TV industry that can make a living on writing full time, and the economic and creative difficulty of "mandating" a couple of scripts per season for freelancers.
In rereading this discussion in preparation for this final post, I was struck by something new that came to me out of the comments. There were a few "freelance" writers who seemed to get a bit huffy because they thought I was calling them "part time writers." Of course, that wasn't my intent. A full time freelancer who puts together a living from many different sources during a year is, of course, a full time freelance writer. And in the sense that a writer in a story department isn't an employee, but an independent contractor hired for the length of the project, well, hell, they're full time freelancers too. It's just a difference in how you get to the point of making your year.
What we have here is a culture clash. The levers of how story departments work in Canada and how scripts are used to top up anemic salaries means that writers will always scramble for their scripts. So what we have here is a difference of opinion between those who look to staff and work on one project for a few months, and freelance freelancers (hoo boy) who want maximum freedom but access to a pool of greater opportunity.
That's a fundamentally unstable proposition. Neither method is better than the other. Both have advantages and disadvantages. There's just no way to please both groups through the mandating of one or two scripts for a freelancer each season. Whatever you decide to do, one group loses out.
It seems to me that the people who would most like there to be a "mandated freelance script rule" fall into three main categories:
Let's take on the Baby Writers first. Guys, Girls, this may not be a thing you want to hear, but here goes:
Things are pretty good for you already.
If you have any talent whatsoever, you may not realize it but the Canadian system is already set up in such a way that it's considerably easier to break in here than it is in the USA. First of all, you have places like the CFC and NSI who are turning out grads each year, pre-vetted, that for some reason are a particularly flavorful fish for Canadian Broadcast Execs. You do have wet-behind-the-ears grads getting development deals all the time. I don't think that's always the best deal for the industry, but that's another subject for another time.
Add to that the fact that many series do look for a junior to put on staff when they're ready to go, for a very good reason: you're cheap. It all comes down to money. They can hire two or three of you for what they'd have to pay me. So there's that.
Then there's the regional nature of Canadian TV production. We have wonderful provincial barriers in this country, straining and groaning to make those tax credits work. If you are a writer from NFLD, or Alberta, or Saskatchewan or Manitoba -- heck, buddy, you may have just won the lottery. There are diversity programs you can take advantage of, if you're from a background that qualifies.
There's also the opportunity to get in at the story-coordinator level, helping a story department. You might even be thrown a co-write. Yup. Provided you actually can write, a little legwork on your part, a bit of bustle in the hedgerow, and you can truly make your own luck. But it really is on you. You have to figure it out. The movement you need is on your shoulder.
The problem isn't in the starting out -- it's the few years down the road when you're not the new thing anymore. When you have a bit of experience and some expectation. Then it gets dicey.
For groups 2 and 3 above, there are things that would make it better.
What if we structured some story departments so that one writer, say, had their work frontloaded, and didn't work the whole season. And another writer came in later and started halfway through, thereby bringing new energy and torque to a show? I think that kind of worked pretty well for Blood Ties, where I joined halfway through the run. Maybe that's something that could be encouraged?
Imagine if, just as you're all getting tired, there's a new infusion of energy? That seems to me to offer the best of all worlds -- getting someone new in to bring fresh ideas and energy, and yet providing the continuity one needs to have a unified vision in the story department.
Anyway, that's what I think. What about you?
In rereading this discussion in preparation for this final post, I was struck by something new that came to me out of the comments. There were a few "freelance" writers who seemed to get a bit huffy because they thought I was calling them "part time writers." Of course, that wasn't my intent. A full time freelancer who puts together a living from many different sources during a year is, of course, a full time freelance writer. And in the sense that a writer in a story department isn't an employee, but an independent contractor hired for the length of the project, well, hell, they're full time freelancers too. It's just a difference in how you get to the point of making your year.
What we have here is a culture clash. The levers of how story departments work in Canada and how scripts are used to top up anemic salaries means that writers will always scramble for their scripts. So what we have here is a difference of opinion between those who look to staff and work on one project for a few months, and freelance freelancers (hoo boy) who want maximum freedom but access to a pool of greater opportunity.
That's a fundamentally unstable proposition. Neither method is better than the other. Both have advantages and disadvantages. There's just no way to please both groups through the mandating of one or two scripts for a freelancer each season. Whatever you decide to do, one group loses out.
It seems to me that the people who would most like there to be a "mandated freelance script rule" fall into three main categories:
- Baby Writers who think it will make getting that first break easier.
- Working, Full Time Freelancers who want the option of the occasional script as well as the freedom to work on their theatre, screenplay, print, or prose projects.
- True part-time writers, who make the bulk of their money doing something else (acting, producing, crew, etc.)
Let's take on the Baby Writers first. Guys, Girls, this may not be a thing you want to hear, but here goes:
Things are pretty good for you already.
If you have any talent whatsoever, you may not realize it but the Canadian system is already set up in such a way that it's considerably easier to break in here than it is in the USA. First of all, you have places like the CFC and NSI who are turning out grads each year, pre-vetted, that for some reason are a particularly flavorful fish for Canadian Broadcast Execs. You do have wet-behind-the-ears grads getting development deals all the time. I don't think that's always the best deal for the industry, but that's another subject for another time.
Add to that the fact that many series do look for a junior to put on staff when they're ready to go, for a very good reason: you're cheap. It all comes down to money. They can hire two or three of you for what they'd have to pay me. So there's that.
Then there's the regional nature of Canadian TV production. We have wonderful provincial barriers in this country, straining and groaning to make those tax credits work. If you are a writer from NFLD, or Alberta, or Saskatchewan or Manitoba -- heck, buddy, you may have just won the lottery. There are diversity programs you can take advantage of, if you're from a background that qualifies.
There's also the opportunity to get in at the story-coordinator level, helping a story department. You might even be thrown a co-write. Yup. Provided you actually can write, a little legwork on your part, a bit of bustle in the hedgerow, and you can truly make your own luck. But it really is on you. You have to figure it out. The movement you need is on your shoulder.
The problem isn't in the starting out -- it's the few years down the road when you're not the new thing anymore. When you have a bit of experience and some expectation. Then it gets dicey.
For groups 2 and 3 above, there are things that would make it better.
- We could try to pursue a course where we set minimums or try to raise the salaries for story editors. If the weeklies were higher, then maybe there wouldn't be such a scramble for scripts. But then again, they might hire fewer story editors. The pressure might go back to making everything freelance, with one harried overworked "head writer" having to cobble it all together. That's a sure right to quality. Sigh.
- We could try to take a stand against "writer sweatshops." Monitor shops that hire lots of writers to endlessly come up with story that then has to make it past a non-writing producer, all for a weekly and no script guarantee. The largely unregulated nature of this side of the business is kind of a bit of a scandal, and nobody's talking about it. Agents and business representatives have a role to play in this, too. Many Canadian agents are playing fast and loose and close to the vest when it comes to communication with the WGC. If the guild doesn't know about it, they can't do anything about it. There's a cozyness to producers out there that might not be serving clients exceedingly well.
- We could develop modes of conduct, education and outreach to people who will be running story departments, or network executives or producers, about the values of thinking about that outside person and what they can bring to the table.
What if we structured some story departments so that one writer, say, had their work frontloaded, and didn't work the whole season. And another writer came in later and started halfway through, thereby bringing new energy and torque to a show? I think that kind of worked pretty well for Blood Ties, where I joined halfway through the run. Maybe that's something that could be encouraged?
Imagine if, just as you're all getting tired, there's a new infusion of energy? That seems to me to offer the best of all worlds -- getting someone new in to bring fresh ideas and energy, and yet providing the continuity one needs to have a unified vision in the story department.
Anyway, that's what I think. What about you?
Is It Wrong?
THAT I FIND myself wanting to impress Bad Horse?
Probably not a good sign, right?
Whatever.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Friday Night On Set
IS A MAGICAL place.
When it's not batshit tense, I mean.
Friday night on set, when you're in no danger of NOT making your day, means a day that starts a little later. So people got to go out Thursday night. There's a few coded smiles and other inscrutable expressions. You arrive and the Director's wearing sunglasses. Could be a bad sign. Could just be that he's a stylin' guy.
The actors are loose. People might have even gotten some sleep last night.
You stare out at the Eastern gap and BAM, right there -- a police boat pulls another boat over, and you think, "Wow. You don't see that every day." And then if you're a writer, your mind goes to the cop asking the guy to walk a line to prove that he hasn't been drinking and how badly that could go really fast...
The silliness starts a little early. Video village, crammed in a little room -- you hear a peep of "sing, sing a song...sing it loud, sing it strong." The makeup pros are their usual lovely and charming selves. The between scene-chatter goes to the arcane and confessional. "Where were you in 1986?" "86?" you think. "Why '86?"
You don't ask though, because maybe that would spoil it.
The D.O.P. works his newfangled genuine asian-tea making contraption like Toscanini. And it does look kind of good.
About four, the sailing school starts and suddenly the gap is full of sails, sails everywhere. It's pretty and wistful, because you're not out there riding the waves yourself. The summer's slipping by and you're sailing through another workday, instead. The EP sits in for a moment and talk turns to how they see the boats go by every day and "you know what we should do! we should HAVE A PARTY ON A BOAT!" The makeup pros have the perfect band.
Well, of course they do.
The afternoon's work is a series of short scenes -- all with comedy runs in them. It's fun and loose watching the actors play. There's only one heavy scene to be done, and it's the reason we started late. We need it to be night.
People furtively discuss the upcoming hiatus. Who's going away? Who's going to stay in town? Good God Almighty Why would you stay in town in August?
They're putting up the coverings on the windows. We're going to shoot day for night for the scene. Maybe we'll get out of here before midnight. That would be nice.
The looseness continues. An AD explains the intricacies of "bag tag." He twirls his headset mic -- long, on the end of a cord -- like it's some fearsome ninja weapon. I pretend to be horrified. The AD watches one of the set PA's go by with a predator's eyes. "I'm gonna get him good," he says. We laugh, as men do when it's someone else's bag in danger of being tagged.
Lunch comes. There's a read through for the next script. I am monumentally pleased that my slightly off-color joke survived. There's another joke in there that's a matter of some controversy. I vote for 'in!' We shall see, we shall see.
I'm called back to set because an actor has a problem with a line. There's a little lump in my throat. On the other hand, it's actual, real life, honest to Betsy work. I hope this isn't going to be a problem.
The actor has a problem understanding the line. We've discussed a couple of other things this week, and made adjustments. I talk it through again. Just a minor massage gets the meaning I want in a way that the Actor is comfortable saying. There's a couple of other moments like this, where we change a word here and a phrase there. I'm not precious about any of it. In most cases, the things the actors want are small and manageable. There's a part of me that recalls, remembers that less confident writer of a few years ago -- the one who'd roll his eyes or stew or steam when an actor asked for a line change. I fight the hot wave of shame I feel thinking about that guy. The line is massaged. All is well.
Two of the actors explain to me the intricacies of "the blocking game." That's where when you have a scene where there's lots of coverage or where it's going on at the same time as something else - you try to clear your exit from the scene as soon as possible. Making sure you're not in the BG of the shot at a key time can make the difference between two hours sitting there being a human prop in the background, and spending two hours in your trailer watching "Robot Chicken."
"Of course we shouldn't be telling you this," they say. "Now you're going to specify so-and-so's there the WHOLE TIME."
I chuckle and say, "Oh, no, nothing like that. But you know writers, we're always working, filing it away, seeing if we can use it later." I say it so casually that they probably don't know that they've been warned. You know, like those signs that say "You may be filmed" when you enter a sports arena, or "do not remove this tag under penalty of law."
Well, now you're busted, boys. Suck it.
The looseness continues. There's a name-drop off -- gentle mocking at the hands of one of the performers who zealously discusses the subject of his A-list friends. Stories told of embarrassing encounters with bigger stars, foolish things said with sweaty palms.
Then the oysters arrive -- courtesy of the grips and electrics. They're crazy delicious. There's more talk of other bands, other parties to come. What we'll do and where and when. More lemon? Oh God, yes. Try it with the other sauce.
A glass of wine would be great right now. I mention that as far as I can tell, it's almost gin'o clock. The AD says, "You can't do that kind of thing in the workplace." But she smiles when she says it. We protest, but know she's right. Whatevs. It's Friday night and we're almost done.
The night's come early because we're lit for night, windows covered -- and we've been that way since 5 pm. I've been sitting and having fun and watching the scene play out so that when I emerge from the studio for a moment, I'm almost a little shocked to see that the night has actually descended.
I go back in and watch some more and get that tiny flash again, that momentary buzz where the pain of writing the script and the four outlines and the cards that didn't make sense and the subplots that wouldn't fit in and the plot point that wouldn't stay put and the arguments over this tone and that all slide away into mist and you get that whiff, that first rush from standing there and realizing that all these people are going back and forth trying to shoot, light, setup and act something that you made up out of your own fool head. How the hell did that happen?
I mention it's way more relaxing being here, on set. The Director smiles and so does the D.O.P. Seems like the other writer said that not so long ago, too. They think it's one of the oddest things they've ever heard. Set can be described as many things -- but relaxing usually isn't one of the words that leaps to mind. How do you explain the feeling you get, the joy of watching other people work, realizing, "hey, for me the heavy lifting's over?"
There's the 5 dollar Friday hat going around. 5 bucks gets you in. I'm in. Then we're moving out for the last shot of the night -- last shot! And it's only 9:30!
One more oyster? Oh no, I couldnnn--sslurrrp.
SUV's pull up. People get out. Walk into the building with purpose. Reset, let's do it again, we're trying to beat the rain. Again. The trucks start rolling by themselves. Nobody called Action. One more time. The A-Monitor is fuzzy and not coming in well. It only reads when you grip the antenna way down the shaft, and you know, jiggle it around. We all offer pointers on how to work it. The AD rolls her eyes. She's been doing this a long time. It's Friday night and the Men have reverted to boys. And the grips and electrics passed out the oysters, so you know, there's some kind of mojo happening...Oh yeah. Sing it loud, sing it strong.
One more time -- a great take. A big pause. "Check the gate."
The energy rises.
"Gate's good."
Guest Actor is wrapped for the episode. We clap. He waves on the way to the trailer. The AD smiles.
"That's a wrap."
Director reaches in and pulls out the five dollar winner. It's one of the Sound Guys. He looks surprised. .
I head for my car, and the night is humid and clear, the rain having just taken the edge off -- just a little. But there's enough edge to go around.
I look back at the studio as I start the car.
My car explodes.
No, it doesn't.
But that would be a cool ending.
Nothing so dramatic though. I drive off into the night. I feel like listening to some hip hop.
Friday night on set is the best.
When it's not batshit tense, I mean.
Friday night on set, when you're in no danger of NOT making your day, means a day that starts a little later. So people got to go out Thursday night. There's a few coded smiles and other inscrutable expressions. You arrive and the Director's wearing sunglasses. Could be a bad sign. Could just be that he's a stylin' guy.
The actors are loose. People might have even gotten some sleep last night.
You stare out at the Eastern gap and BAM, right there -- a police boat pulls another boat over, and you think, "Wow. You don't see that every day." And then if you're a writer, your mind goes to the cop asking the guy to walk a line to prove that he hasn't been drinking and how badly that could go really fast...
The silliness starts a little early. Video village, crammed in a little room -- you hear a peep of "sing, sing a song...sing it loud, sing it strong." The makeup pros are their usual lovely and charming selves. The between scene-chatter goes to the arcane and confessional. "Where were you in 1986?" "86?" you think. "Why '86?"
You don't ask though, because maybe that would spoil it.
The D.O.P. works his newfangled genuine asian-tea making contraption like Toscanini. And it does look kind of good.
About four, the sailing school starts and suddenly the gap is full of sails, sails everywhere. It's pretty and wistful, because you're not out there riding the waves yourself. The summer's slipping by and you're sailing through another workday, instead. The EP sits in for a moment and talk turns to how they see the boats go by every day and "you know what we should do! we should HAVE A PARTY ON A BOAT!" The makeup pros have the perfect band.
Well, of course they do.
The afternoon's work is a series of short scenes -- all with comedy runs in them. It's fun and loose watching the actors play. There's only one heavy scene to be done, and it's the reason we started late. We need it to be night.
People furtively discuss the upcoming hiatus. Who's going away? Who's going to stay in town? Good God Almighty Why would you stay in town in August?
They're putting up the coverings on the windows. We're going to shoot day for night for the scene. Maybe we'll get out of here before midnight. That would be nice.
The looseness continues. An AD explains the intricacies of "bag tag." He twirls his headset mic -- long, on the end of a cord -- like it's some fearsome ninja weapon. I pretend to be horrified. The AD watches one of the set PA's go by with a predator's eyes. "I'm gonna get him good," he says. We laugh, as men do when it's someone else's bag in danger of being tagged.
Lunch comes. There's a read through for the next script. I am monumentally pleased that my slightly off-color joke survived. There's another joke in there that's a matter of some controversy. I vote for 'in!' We shall see, we shall see.
I'm called back to set because an actor has a problem with a line. There's a little lump in my throat. On the other hand, it's actual, real life, honest to Betsy work. I hope this isn't going to be a problem.
The actor has a problem understanding the line. We've discussed a couple of other things this week, and made adjustments. I talk it through again. Just a minor massage gets the meaning I want in a way that the Actor is comfortable saying. There's a couple of other moments like this, where we change a word here and a phrase there. I'm not precious about any of it. In most cases, the things the actors want are small and manageable. There's a part of me that recalls, remembers that less confident writer of a few years ago -- the one who'd roll his eyes or stew or steam when an actor asked for a line change. I fight the hot wave of shame I feel thinking about that guy. The line is massaged. All is well.
Two of the actors explain to me the intricacies of "the blocking game." That's where when you have a scene where there's lots of coverage or where it's going on at the same time as something else - you try to clear your exit from the scene as soon as possible. Making sure you're not in the BG of the shot at a key time can make the difference between two hours sitting there being a human prop in the background, and spending two hours in your trailer watching "Robot Chicken."
"Of course we shouldn't be telling you this," they say. "Now you're going to specify so-and-so's there the WHOLE TIME."
I chuckle and say, "Oh, no, nothing like that. But you know writers, we're always working, filing it away, seeing if we can use it later." I say it so casually that they probably don't know that they've been warned. You know, like those signs that say "You may be filmed" when you enter a sports arena, or "do not remove this tag under penalty of law."
Well, now you're busted, boys. Suck it.
The looseness continues. There's a name-drop off -- gentle mocking at the hands of one of the performers who zealously discusses the subject of his A-list friends. Stories told of embarrassing encounters with bigger stars, foolish things said with sweaty palms.
Then the oysters arrive -- courtesy of the grips and electrics. They're crazy delicious. There's more talk of other bands, other parties to come. What we'll do and where and when. More lemon? Oh God, yes. Try it with the other sauce.
A glass of wine would be great right now. I mention that as far as I can tell, it's almost gin'o clock. The AD says, "You can't do that kind of thing in the workplace." But she smiles when she says it. We protest, but know she's right. Whatevs. It's Friday night and we're almost done.
The night's come early because we're lit for night, windows covered -- and we've been that way since 5 pm. I've been sitting and having fun and watching the scene play out so that when I emerge from the studio for a moment, I'm almost a little shocked to see that the night has actually descended.
I go back in and watch some more and get that tiny flash again, that momentary buzz where the pain of writing the script and the four outlines and the cards that didn't make sense and the subplots that wouldn't fit in and the plot point that wouldn't stay put and the arguments over this tone and that all slide away into mist and you get that whiff, that first rush from standing there and realizing that all these people are going back and forth trying to shoot, light, setup and act something that you made up out of your own fool head. How the hell did that happen?
I mention it's way more relaxing being here, on set. The Director smiles and so does the D.O.P. Seems like the other writer said that not so long ago, too. They think it's one of the oddest things they've ever heard. Set can be described as many things -- but relaxing usually isn't one of the words that leaps to mind. How do you explain the feeling you get, the joy of watching other people work, realizing, "hey, for me the heavy lifting's over?"
There's the 5 dollar Friday hat going around. 5 bucks gets you in. I'm in. Then we're moving out for the last shot of the night -- last shot! And it's only 9:30!
One more oyster? Oh no, I couldnnn--sslurrrp.
SUV's pull up. People get out. Walk into the building with purpose. Reset, let's do it again, we're trying to beat the rain. Again. The trucks start rolling by themselves. Nobody called Action. One more time. The A-Monitor is fuzzy and not coming in well. It only reads when you grip the antenna way down the shaft, and you know, jiggle it around. We all offer pointers on how to work it. The AD rolls her eyes. She's been doing this a long time. It's Friday night and the Men have reverted to boys. And the grips and electrics passed out the oysters, so you know, there's some kind of mojo happening...Oh yeah. Sing it loud, sing it strong.
One more time -- a great take. A big pause. "Check the gate."
The energy rises.
"Gate's good."
Guest Actor is wrapped for the episode. We clap. He waves on the way to the trailer. The AD smiles.
"That's a wrap."
Director reaches in and pulls out the five dollar winner. It's one of the Sound Guys. He looks surprised. .
I head for my car, and the night is humid and clear, the rain having just taken the edge off -- just a little. But there's enough edge to go around.
I look back at the studio as I start the car.
My car explodes.
No, it doesn't.
But that would be a cool ending.
Nothing so dramatic though. I drive off into the night. I feel like listening to some hip hop.
Friday night on set is the best.
6.75
WEEK TWO fast overnight ratings for Flashpoint came in at 6.75 million viewers overall for the hour, but with an uptick to 7.46 million in the second half.
That means they lost a million viewers from the premiere week. There's a couple ways to look at this. The first is that 6.75 is still about 82% of that premiere audience. That's nothing to sneeze at. And the continued growth in the second half hour means that people are tuning in, not tuning away once they find it. That's a positive sign too.
Still, you wouldn't want another drop like that for week 3.
I think the head-scratching question about Flashpoint now moves to the question I've had all along about the show:
What happens in show 18?
But there are a bunch of clever clever writers working that question right now, somewhere in Toronto, toiling away without a hiatus, in sweatshop like conditions...
Well, the last part isn't anybody's fault really -- the sweatshop like humidity has finally descended upon the Toronto summer.
Sigh.
Anyway, good news for the show and here's hoping more of those people remember to tune in from the beginning, and not halfway through next week!
EDIT: I guess the venerable Diane was right once again, the numbers reported for the hour are an average of both half hours, so they seem to be reporting them as 7.11 million. Which though my math is bad, I understand to be more than 6.75 million.
That means they lost a million viewers from the premiere week. There's a couple ways to look at this. The first is that 6.75 is still about 82% of that premiere audience. That's nothing to sneeze at. And the continued growth in the second half hour means that people are tuning in, not tuning away once they find it. That's a positive sign too.
Still, you wouldn't want another drop like that for week 3.
I think the head-scratching question about Flashpoint now moves to the question I've had all along about the show:
What happens in show 18?
But there are a bunch of clever clever writers working that question right now, somewhere in Toronto, toiling away without a hiatus, in sweatshop like conditions...
Well, the last part isn't anybody's fault really -- the sweatshop like humidity has finally descended upon the Toronto summer.
Sigh.
Anyway, good news for the show and here's hoping more of those people remember to tune in from the beginning, and not halfway through next week!
EDIT: I guess the venerable Diane was right once again, the numbers reported for the hour are an average of both half hours, so they seem to be reporting them as 7.11 million. Which though my math is bad, I understand to be more than 6.75 million.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Trés Jaloux.
THE SUSPICIOUSLY BOYISH and Dapper Mike McPhaden is guestblogging on the Montreal JustComedy conference (which I believe used to be called Just for Laughs back in the day) over at Jill Golick's digs.
I'd be there too if I didn't have this job.
Whinge.
And don't forget...Flashpoint episode 2 tonight 10pm CBS/CTV
I'd be there too if I didn't have this job.
Whinge.
And don't forget...Flashpoint episode 2 tonight 10pm CBS/CTV
Run, Jump, Shoot, Whoa.
THE BORDER's Nazneen Contractor is featured in Toro. Photos by Franco Deleo. Interview by William Morassutti.“I love playing Layla Hourani this season. I’m definitely more feminine. We get to see a more intimate side of Layla,” she promises.That is all.
(The Border Season One is currently repeating Mondays at 9pm on CBC. New episodes return Sept. 29.)
Freelancers, really? Part Two
ALRIGHT, NOW. Where were we?
In Part One of this post, I laid out the vision of how I frame the question of mandating freelance scripts on Canadian series.
The brief recap is this: a suggestion was made, should the WGC try to pursue a policy like the WGA has in their MBA, where there are two freelance scripts reserved for a show with 22 episodes? That means that those scripts must go to outside writers. Through my examples and through some rather clever and cagey comments, I laid out the situation for the professional television screenwriter in Canada, and asked the question, "is the object to have as many people be able to get TV script assignments as possible, or is the object to have as many people earn a living only from their writing as possible?"
Mount weighed in with an example from another industry:
I found out a couple of things that surprised and pleased me. The first was that the WGC Membership actually has a higher percentage of their writers working than the WGA. I think that's a piece of good news that doesn't get out too often.
The flipside of that is that the vast majority of the membership are in an economic category where it's pretty clear that in all likelihood, they're not able to fully support themselves by their writing.
It was at this forum, looking at these charts, that I realized that at least for the last couple of years, I've been earning enough that I'm probably in the top tier of working screenwriters in Canada. That was cool to see, then scary, then cool again.
Let me break it down.
It was cool because, you know, it actually made me step back for a moment and feel lucky (and by lucky I mean, realize how hard I had worked, and by that I mean how lucky I was, etc, etc.)
It was scary because it still is unstable. If you average it out over five or six years instead of just the last two or three, it gets a little dicier. And who knows what next year will bring. Maybe I won't be flavour of the month. You just never know.
But then we got back to cool -- because I realized that the other thing the WGC has going for it is that there is NOT the massive disperity you see at work in the WGA and SAG down in the USA. Those fractious coalitions of members are held together, or not as the case may be, by a top caste who may be earning millions, and a bottom rung of many, many more people who are just scraping by. It's pretty hard to find common ground between those two groups.
Here that disperity's not as great. Which is good. But what does that have to do with the question at hand, or the object -- getting more writers to be able to have careers?
Well let's start by looking at the way it works in the USA under the WGA MBA.
There, out of twenty-two scripts, you have to hire two outsiders. In theory, this means that there's an outside pool you can draw from. In practice, what it often means is that series use these freelance drafts to "audition" writers that they were thinking of hiring anyway. You will often see that the person who got one of the outside scripts one year, the next year becomes a staffer. I think that's a pretty nifty thing.
So would that work here?
Let's look at the economic argument first, then the creative.
First, and most obviously - in Canada we very rarely do twenty-two episodes in a season. The usual order is 13. Sometimes a show might get 18 or 20 but this is very rare. In recent years, many cable outlets, places like Showcase etc, have taken to ordering 6 or 8 episode orders.
But that's misleading. Because of the number of mergers, "benefits" packages, et al, most outlets now, in development, commission a pilot and one, two, or three scripts. The most common number is two. So, those scripts are gone. So that 13 episode order is really 11, 8 is 6, 6 is 4, etc, etc.
Then lets add to how the script assignments are handled here. It's a bit of bait-and-switch really -- the payments for scripts are often used to "top up" what are poor weekly fees for story editors.
In his post on this topic, Alex Epstein at Complications Ensue put it this way:
Now, sometimes when you build your story room, you might have one or two scripts left that aren't assigned. And you might see something else, too.
I've been on, and heard about, shows where the showrunner actually takes fewer scripts than some members of the staff. Partly because they're making more money, partly because they're busier, but mostly out of a desire to make that economic thing work. So if you have a great writer, maybe they get three and you get two. This is more common than you think.
Also, holding one of those scripts back can allow for a number of ways to make your room better. You could bring in a freelancer with all their fresh ideas and energy. You could use a script to reward a script coordinator, to give them a big break and get them to get their feet wet.
Or a showrunner can use that extra script as a motivational tool. For somebody who goes that extra mile, who performs really well in the room, or does extra duty, or really steps up, or whatever.
That's in a perfect world where the showrunner is given that flexibility.
Unfortunately in Canada we have this dual system in place -- an older, mostly non-writing producer driven culture where the writers are hired hands, and the move toward writer-controlled creative. But even in the latter case, you could always find yourself in a bad deal situation: a showrunner hired later or hired to replace someone might come in and find that they have a situation where the scripts are already gone, and there's very little that can be done to motivate people.
Much of this is a management issue. When there are no scripts left, sometimes things here become a little Lord of the Flies. You hear of shows that hire little writer sweatshops, where writers churn out story after story which have to be cleared with the caprices and the whims of a non-writer who's in charge. So writers in the room become jobbers, doing piecework on story that gets thrown up against the big wall with no Production or Script fee at the end of it. Dire.
As a commenter on Part One put it:
Sounds nasty, don't it? See, part of my problem with "mandated freelancing" is that at the end of the day, it all comes down to the quality of the management that is running the show. On a good show, a well-run show, showrunners will use scripts to motivate and reward; on a bad show, I can easily see a return to the bad old days I've heard of from the 80's and 90's, where the "freelance scripts" were given to idiot cousins of the exec producer, or the ex-wife as part of the alimony settlement, or to the dude so and so did coke with at the Geminis. (I wish I could tell you that I made up the three examples I've just quoted. I didn't.)
Any system is only good as the people who are charged with administrating it. If you've worked in production, you know that there's a system in place where they offer extra tax credit bonuses to shoot outside the "zones" that comprise most production centres in Canada. This is classic Canadian, "spread it around" strateregy. But again, if you've worked, you know the result: this becomes the new baseline. Nothing shoots in Toronto -- you have to drive to Hamilton. Vancouver, you find yourself in Maple Ridge. With a blink, what was supposed to be an "extra carrot" just becomes part of the budget. And all you've done is guarantee that everyone has to drive an extra hour to go to work.
I have similar fears about mandating freelance scripts in our system. I just feel it will be abused. And don't say that it's the WGC's job to make sure that doesn't happen, because that, my friend, is talking about a level of supervision and investigation that's just simply unworkable. It's a non-starter.
I truly feel that this is tied in with the showrunner question, that that is the single best thing we can do to make the plight of writers better in Canada. But charging the right people with that mentoring and encouragement is key, too. When I was doing Across The River To Motor City, I deliberately argued and brought in a writer I knew who was great, and good with story, and who hadn't been getting traction getting a series gig. I gave up a production fee, and a script, because I knew it was better for the show, and because I tried to spread the wealth around. I think there are lots of showrunner level writers in Canada who feel that way. We should do everything, collectively, we can to big up those people. Celebrate them.
Showrunners who give their story coordinators a chance to do a script are doing the same thing. On a certain level, you have to put your trust in the right person there to bring people up with them. Some don't, but in my experience, most do.
Now that's my economic pitch. Here's my creative one:
TV has changed. Jaime Weinman at Macleans is better at this, and though I can't find a particular post right now, he's constantly writing about why the largely freelance vs. mostly staff culture evolved the way it did. In short, it's this: Even shows that you don't normally think of as "serialized" today have significant serial elements. The audience demands it. That, and the layer of complexity in a story demand someone who is there more than a freelancer is going to be. If you go back and watch medical dramas or cop shows from the 70's, you're going to be flummoxed by just how simplistic they are on every level. And how nothing connects. The nuance of where someone is in their relationship with so and so, or the general cant of how the "squad" is doing as the season progresses; that may not be as twisty and intertwined as, say, Intelligence or The Wire, but it's still complex enough that you want someone there that's been part of the conversation from the beginning. That is the route to great. The other way, to my mind, just won't work.
If you're a freelancer, and you want scripts, that might seem like I'm slamming the door on you. I'm not. And if you're starting out, it might seem like a barrier to you. It's not. In fact, newbies, things are actually way better for you than you think. There are plenty of levers in place to give you that first gig. It's number two and four and six that's the real issue. It's the established writers looking for a way to get scripts without having to be in the room that are really the main concerned parties here.
So if mandating outside scripts isn't a good solution, what else could be done? I have a couple suggestions, but they're by no means perfect, or complete. It's not an easy proposition to be sure.
But for that, you'll have to come back.
In Part One of this post, I laid out the vision of how I frame the question of mandating freelance scripts on Canadian series.
The brief recap is this: a suggestion was made, should the WGC try to pursue a policy like the WGA has in their MBA, where there are two freelance scripts reserved for a show with 22 episodes? That means that those scripts must go to outside writers. Through my examples and through some rather clever and cagey comments, I laid out the situation for the professional television screenwriter in Canada, and asked the question, "is the object to have as many people be able to get TV script assignments as possible, or is the object to have as many people earn a living only from their writing as possible?"
Mount weighed in with an example from another industry:
In Newfoundland, the Fisheries were structured to give fishing licences to a great many. The idea was to give the maximum number of people a way to make some kind of a living from the sea.A few months ago I attended the National Forum of the Writers Guild of Canada as an invited guest. (My subsequent term on the WGC Council didn't start until May.)
In Iceland, the structure was different. Much fewer licences were granted. Those who had them earned a very good living and then other Icelanders (Icelandees? Icelandicans?) made their living from secondary industries - selling boats, big screen tvs, hot tubs, etc.
Iceland still has a thriving fishing industry, Newfoundland has.... not.
I found out a couple of things that surprised and pleased me. The first was that the WGC Membership actually has a higher percentage of their writers working than the WGA. I think that's a piece of good news that doesn't get out too often.
The flipside of that is that the vast majority of the membership are in an economic category where it's pretty clear that in all likelihood, they're not able to fully support themselves by their writing.
It was at this forum, looking at these charts, that I realized that at least for the last couple of years, I've been earning enough that I'm probably in the top tier of working screenwriters in Canada. That was cool to see, then scary, then cool again.
Let me break it down.
It was cool because, you know, it actually made me step back for a moment and feel lucky (and by lucky I mean, realize how hard I had worked, and by that I mean how lucky I was, etc, etc.)
It was scary because it still is unstable. If you average it out over five or six years instead of just the last two or three, it gets a little dicier. And who knows what next year will bring. Maybe I won't be flavour of the month. You just never know.
But then we got back to cool -- because I realized that the other thing the WGC has going for it is that there is NOT the massive disperity you see at work in the WGA and SAG down in the USA. Those fractious coalitions of members are held together, or not as the case may be, by a top caste who may be earning millions, and a bottom rung of many, many more people who are just scraping by. It's pretty hard to find common ground between those two groups.
Here that disperity's not as great. Which is good. But what does that have to do with the question at hand, or the object -- getting more writers to be able to have careers?
Well let's start by looking at the way it works in the USA under the WGA MBA.
There, out of twenty-two scripts, you have to hire two outsiders. In theory, this means that there's an outside pool you can draw from. In practice, what it often means is that series use these freelance drafts to "audition" writers that they were thinking of hiring anyway. You will often see that the person who got one of the outside scripts one year, the next year becomes a staffer. I think that's a pretty nifty thing.
So would that work here?
Let's look at the economic argument first, then the creative.
First, and most obviously - in Canada we very rarely do twenty-two episodes in a season. The usual order is 13. Sometimes a show might get 18 or 20 but this is very rare. In recent years, many cable outlets, places like Showcase etc, have taken to ordering 6 or 8 episode orders.
But that's misleading. Because of the number of mergers, "benefits" packages, et al, most outlets now, in development, commission a pilot and one, two, or three scripts. The most common number is two. So, those scripts are gone. So that 13 episode order is really 11, 8 is 6, 6 is 4, etc, etc.
Then lets add to how the script assignments are handled here. It's a bit of bait-and-switch really -- the payments for scripts are often used to "top up" what are poor weekly fees for story editors.
In his post on this topic, Alex Epstein at Complications Ensue put it this way:
My contract for my series gives me a lower weekly salary than the $6,000+ a junior story editor is entitled to in the States. If my show should go, I'll make that up in production fees. The WGC deal mandates that the writer of an episode be paid around 3% of the budget of the episode. (There's a more complicated formula than that but if the episode budget is a million bucks, the writer's getting a check for over $30,000.)Okay, so you combine this -- differences in the way the agreements work and the basic difference in payment structure and what you see is the number of scripts you get is way more important here for making your year. And there are always less of them available.
Normally a free lancer's script has to be heavily rewritten. A freelancer can bring new story ideas and a fresh perspective. They never turn in something you can shoot.
That's awkward because under the WGC rules, the contracted writer -- the free lancer -- is entitled to sole credit and 100% of the production fee no matter how little of their work remains.
In the US this matters less because the story editors are getting paid a whack of cash to rewrite things. That's their job, to rewrite. There is no production fee, either. So the scripts are worth relatively less and the salary is worth relatively more. It is less of an injustice to the writer actually turning in the shootable draft -- whether story editor or showrunner.
Moreover, in the US system a showrunner or story editor who heavily rewrites a free lance script is entitled to credit. So there may be no injustice at all.
Now, sometimes when you build your story room, you might have one or two scripts left that aren't assigned. And you might see something else, too.
I've been on, and heard about, shows where the showrunner actually takes fewer scripts than some members of the staff. Partly because they're making more money, partly because they're busier, but mostly out of a desire to make that economic thing work. So if you have a great writer, maybe they get three and you get two. This is more common than you think.
Also, holding one of those scripts back can allow for a number of ways to make your room better. You could bring in a freelancer with all their fresh ideas and energy. You could use a script to reward a script coordinator, to give them a big break and get them to get their feet wet.
Or a showrunner can use that extra script as a motivational tool. For somebody who goes that extra mile, who performs really well in the room, or does extra duty, or really steps up, or whatever.
That's in a perfect world where the showrunner is given that flexibility.
Unfortunately in Canada we have this dual system in place -- an older, mostly non-writing producer driven culture where the writers are hired hands, and the move toward writer-controlled creative. But even in the latter case, you could always find yourself in a bad deal situation: a showrunner hired later or hired to replace someone might come in and find that they have a situation where the scripts are already gone, and there's very little that can be done to motivate people.
Much of this is a management issue. When there are no scripts left, sometimes things here become a little Lord of the Flies. You hear of shows that hire little writer sweatshops, where writers churn out story after story which have to be cleared with the caprices and the whims of a non-writer who's in charge. So writers in the room become jobbers, doing piecework on story that gets thrown up against the big wall with no Production or Script fee at the end of it. Dire.
As a commenter on Part One put it:
producers hire a combo of "seasoned writers", people who have written 5-10 scripts, and promising newbies (one or two who have to be from the film centre) and create a 'writing room".
once that is done they pay them a shitty weekly or monthly wage and these folks bang out story after story after story until the producers decide (on some strange whim) which one they want to turn into an episode -- "something like that happened to someone i know", seems to be the current raison de jour to make something. and then the painful process of writing the script starts.
this goes on for months and months until every possible drink option at "the paddock" or the "shoe shop" or the sutton place or the "irish heather" or "l'express" or O' Halons" has been exhausted.
Sounds nasty, don't it? See, part of my problem with "mandated freelancing" is that at the end of the day, it all comes down to the quality of the management that is running the show. On a good show, a well-run show, showrunners will use scripts to motivate and reward; on a bad show, I can easily see a return to the bad old days I've heard of from the 80's and 90's, where the "freelance scripts" were given to idiot cousins of the exec producer, or the ex-wife as part of the alimony settlement, or to the dude so and so did coke with at the Geminis. (I wish I could tell you that I made up the three examples I've just quoted. I didn't.)
Any system is only good as the people who are charged with administrating it. If you've worked in production, you know that there's a system in place where they offer extra tax credit bonuses to shoot outside the "zones" that comprise most production centres in Canada. This is classic Canadian, "spread it around" strateregy. But again, if you've worked, you know the result: this becomes the new baseline. Nothing shoots in Toronto -- you have to drive to Hamilton. Vancouver, you find yourself in Maple Ridge. With a blink, what was supposed to be an "extra carrot" just becomes part of the budget. And all you've done is guarantee that everyone has to drive an extra hour to go to work.
I have similar fears about mandating freelance scripts in our system. I just feel it will be abused. And don't say that it's the WGC's job to make sure that doesn't happen, because that, my friend, is talking about a level of supervision and investigation that's just simply unworkable. It's a non-starter.
I truly feel that this is tied in with the showrunner question, that that is the single best thing we can do to make the plight of writers better in Canada. But charging the right people with that mentoring and encouragement is key, too. When I was doing Across The River To Motor City, I deliberately argued and brought in a writer I knew who was great, and good with story, and who hadn't been getting traction getting a series gig. I gave up a production fee, and a script, because I knew it was better for the show, and because I tried to spread the wealth around. I think there are lots of showrunner level writers in Canada who feel that way. We should do everything, collectively, we can to big up those people. Celebrate them.
Showrunners who give their story coordinators a chance to do a script are doing the same thing. On a certain level, you have to put your trust in the right person there to bring people up with them. Some don't, but in my experience, most do.
Now that's my economic pitch. Here's my creative one:
TV has changed. Jaime Weinman at Macleans is better at this, and though I can't find a particular post right now, he's constantly writing about why the largely freelance vs. mostly staff culture evolved the way it did. In short, it's this: Even shows that you don't normally think of as "serialized" today have significant serial elements. The audience demands it. That, and the layer of complexity in a story demand someone who is there more than a freelancer is going to be. If you go back and watch medical dramas or cop shows from the 70's, you're going to be flummoxed by just how simplistic they are on every level. And how nothing connects. The nuance of where someone is in their relationship with so and so, or the general cant of how the "squad" is doing as the season progresses; that may not be as twisty and intertwined as, say, Intelligence or The Wire, but it's still complex enough that you want someone there that's been part of the conversation from the beginning. That is the route to great. The other way, to my mind, just won't work.
If you're a freelancer, and you want scripts, that might seem like I'm slamming the door on you. I'm not. And if you're starting out, it might seem like a barrier to you. It's not. In fact, newbies, things are actually way better for you than you think. There are plenty of levers in place to give you that first gig. It's number two and four and six that's the real issue. It's the established writers looking for a way to get scripts without having to be in the room that are really the main concerned parties here.
So if mandating outside scripts isn't a good solution, what else could be done? I have a couple suggestions, but they're by no means perfect, or complete. It's not an easy proposition to be sure.
But for that, you'll have to come back.
CBC Pilot-palooza 2008
MEDIA IN CANADA today has the skinny on FIVE -- count'em -- five pilots the CBC has ordered for the coming year. They're all half hours:
The Montreal-set sitcom 18 To Life portrays two teenage neighbours who get married on a dare and begin their life together.
The B Team, from the producers of Corner Gas, portrays an underfunded CSIS department led by an ambitious young woman. It will be shot on location in Ottawa and Winnipeg.
Also contending for a CBC series slot is Ontario-Manitoba copro Throwing Stones, a half-hour drama that finds four women from different backgrounds unwinding at the local curling rink with ice, brooms and beer.
Republic of Doyle is a half-hour drama about a father and son who fight crime - and each other - as private investigators in oil-rich Newfoundland.
CBC has also ordered Abroad, a back-door pilot about the romantic misadventures of a Canadian woman in London, based on the experiences of Globe and Mail columnist Leah McLaren. Structured as a Canada/U.K. copro, it's the only pilot in this batch that's a two-hour TV movie, not a half-hour series.
The article didn't have any other info on the creative teams behind the other projects, so if anybody has info on the teams, the creator-writers, and the provencance of the various projects, feel free to chime in below.
I look forward to the latest chorus of how this proves unequivocably that the CBC is going to hell.
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