It's been said (by people way smarter than me) that the difference between writers and wannabe writers is finishing.
That's not to say that professional writers don't have have unfinished scripts sitting in a drawer somewhere. But I've found in my own career, and in an informal poll of other writers I know, that you can track your progress toward a full career by how you handle your less than stellar ideas.
I know lots of part-time or aspiring writers who have a ton of half finished screenplays, or novels, or plays. Their attitude toward that project may be tinged with frustration, or regret, or usually guilt ("Oh God I have to get back to that...")
But most of my professional writer friends fill that drawer with finished but bad spec first drafts that will probably never go to second draft. But bottom line, they got done. And in most cases, we're fine with it.
The difference is finishing. Finishing offers closure. There have been a couple of pilots and series that I've developed over the last few months that came back as "no." Both those projects are probably dead. I certainly wouldn't spend a lot of time trying to ressurect them. If something comes, it comes, and if (as is infinitely more likely) something doesn't, then fine -- I took a shot. The point is, emotionally, when I'm done I'm done -- and ready to move on to the next thing. Finishing helps you to feel accomplishment, and the accomplishment lets you feel dispassionate and detached enough to let go.
I think if you're going to be an effective professional writer, you have to be that way. Just last week, I was talking to a friend of mine who works in the business, but isn't a writer. And I was bitching a bit about a script that I absolutely, positively drop had-to get into the network by the end of the week -- and he asked me how far along I was, and I didn't lose a beat when I said, "Oh. I haven't started yet."
To be more precise, he gabbled about 50 -60 mL of perfectly good Guinness.
It wasn't exactly true. I hadn't started revising, but I had been rolling it over in my brain, cogitating and making plans of how to proceed. I broke it down by math: "I've got X days. Which means I need to get Y done by Wednesday night, Z by Thursday noon, and Q by Friday morning."
He looked at me like I had two heads. "What if you get blocked?"
I stared back. "It's a rewrite. I'm not going to get blocked."
"But what if you do?"
The truth is, it's a calculus I simply don't understand. I think that comes from having been in that production trench and having to deliver to deadline. Writer's block is a very precious concept, but it's really something you can't afford if it means you're going to keep a hundred and fifty people waiting and cost the production a hundred thousand dollars.
Once you've faced down that fear, making a development deadline is infinitely smaller potatoes.
The other dirty little secret about being a pro is that it feels good to finish. Really good. Like, four beers good. The sense of accomplishment you feel is its own carrot. Even if you know the draft isn't perfect. Especially if you know it isn't perfect.
One of the hardest things I had to get over in the jump from aspirant to pro was the anxiety of crafting the first draft. If you go in thinking that your first draft needs to be perfect, it's much easier to become paralyzed. Now, when I write a first draft, I know that there are going to be what I call "the crunchy pages."
The crunchy pages are the things that work, but not as well as you like. (You try not to hand in anything that you think flat out doesn't work. Because what if the network notices? Or... (and can you guess what's coming next?.....) What if they don't?
By making peace with the crunchy pages, knowing that you have another draft to fix and expand and go further -- well, that means you get to that feeling of finishing faster.
(You also stamp out bad habits, like starting each day by going back to the beginning of the script and going through the whole thing...which is just a demoralizing waste of time. The other trick is to make sure the first thing you write each morning is something easy or fun to do. Never start with a scene that's hard to write, or where you're not sure of your way through. You also don't want to end on those scenes. I tend to leave them to midday, just before lunch. That way, you have yet another carrot to push through -- never underestimate the power of a nice ham and cheese sandwich.)
I always reward myself upon finishing a draft. It may be with a movie, or buying a CD, or going out and having an actual, blissful night of fun where I turn the writer brain off. (Something that I probably should learn to do more often.) The main reward, though, is always the same. When I finish a draft, I'm finished for the day. Finito. If I type "End of Show" at 10:30 a.m., that's it -- I'm done for the day.
I like to have a 'soft finish' too. If I'm supposed to submit a draft by noon Friday, I like to time it so I finish sometime Thursday, celebrate the finish of the draft, and then take one final looksee in the morning before hitting "send."
I admire the old school Mamet-and-Goldman types who write on typewriters or longhand, but I'm definitely a computer guy. When I first started out, I had to deliver a few times in hard copy, and there was something satisfying about printing out that document and sending it off. These days it's all PDF and send -- and the romance is gone a little.
But finishing still rocks. Hard.
You just have to always remember that the feeling of finishing is meant to be fleeting. There's always a new draft, a new project, a new story to break or polish or write. The War of Art is ongoing. Part of the art of celebrating the finish is to acknowledge the Sisyphusean task that lies ahead:
Starting something new.
Which is why when someone tells me they just finished a spec script, my answer's always the same:
Great. Good for you! What are you going to write next?
Then, based on their immediate facial reaction, I usually make a snap judgement about their character and level of professionalism.
I know. I know. Aint I a stinker?
Saturday, April 8, 2006
Wednesday, April 5, 2006
United 93? End of innocence? Really?
So apparently in movie theaters all over the United States, people are freaking out at this trailer for United 93.
The tarp of bullshit that's stretched over the American people is so thin and threadbare right now, that even a movie trailer can cause a twitterpation.
It must be hard to keep the hounds of reality at bay. Kiboshing the shots of flag-draped coffins was one thing. Abu Ghirab was pretty hard...there were certainly cracks there, too. But Americans as a people have been so good these last three years at denying the truth, ignoring the facts, and retreating into comfortable, unquestioned tropes of American goodness, might, and rectitude. As a Yankee abroad, it's almost unbearably poignant to me that all of that could be pierced by a piece of art. Scratch that...an advertisement for a piece of art.
Because the problem with maintaining a fiction is you have to ignore all that churning, building dissonance. And a stark story like United 93, amidst the cartoon blowup flotsam of MI:3 and the like, well - that's about as dissonant as you get. No wonder people are sobbing and freaking out into their popcorn.
I saw "The Day After Tomorrow" on one of those little screens on a plane. I didn't enjoy it. I didn't see War of the Worlds, either. Somehow, for me, all that blowing up the White House or Eiffel Tower or levelling New York -- you know...none of that is escapist entertainment for me anymore.
But then again, I've been following everything that's happened since United 93 went down that day in the field in P.A.
If you've bought into the layers and layers of fictions -- the simple view -- you probably spend a whole lot of time trying to service that tarp of bullshit that's stretched so thinly above you. And along comes Paul Greengrass, and his little movie, and it rips the cover off.
Trailers about the Rwandan genocide? A-ok. Flight 93, not ok? Would someone hurry up and make a Darfur trailer already? Maybe if they stuck it after The Benchwarmers, somebody might work up enough outrage to complain to the manager. Maybe you'll get a free movie out of the deal.
If you saw Bloody Sunday, you know what's coming from Greengrass on this one. I'm sure the movie will be hard to watch.
But then again, Americans have done entirely enough looking away over the last five years. The anger you felt that day, the trauma -- it led you to allow your government to do some pretty amazing things in your name. We can exploit for drama all the tragedies of others, but we cannot face our own? We can cause misery, but we can't revisit our own -- and maybe this time see it in the context of people who actually did a righteous thing, instead of people who have relentlessly exploited it to do the wrong things -- things that you've been complicit in ever since? I call bullshit. Sit still. Shutup. Watch the trailer.
Then read a goddamn newspaper -- preferably one that doesn't have their heads planted firmly in the sand.
Or, you know, keep watching FOX News. Your call. But don't ask me to feel bad for you crying into your popcorn.
And by the way, if you want to tell me that I hate America, my only request is that you email me, we arrange to meet, and you say it to my face, so we can sort it out proper.
The tarp of bullshit that's stretched over the American people is so thin and threadbare right now, that even a movie trailer can cause a twitterpation.
It must be hard to keep the hounds of reality at bay. Kiboshing the shots of flag-draped coffins was one thing. Abu Ghirab was pretty hard...there were certainly cracks there, too. But Americans as a people have been so good these last three years at denying the truth, ignoring the facts, and retreating into comfortable, unquestioned tropes of American goodness, might, and rectitude. As a Yankee abroad, it's almost unbearably poignant to me that all of that could be pierced by a piece of art. Scratch that...an advertisement for a piece of art.
Because the problem with maintaining a fiction is you have to ignore all that churning, building dissonance. And a stark story like United 93, amidst the cartoon blowup flotsam of MI:3 and the like, well - that's about as dissonant as you get. No wonder people are sobbing and freaking out into their popcorn.
I saw "The Day After Tomorrow" on one of those little screens on a plane. I didn't enjoy it. I didn't see War of the Worlds, either. Somehow, for me, all that blowing up the White House or Eiffel Tower or levelling New York -- you know...none of that is escapist entertainment for me anymore.
But then again, I've been following everything that's happened since United 93 went down that day in the field in P.A.
If you've bought into the layers and layers of fictions -- the simple view -- you probably spend a whole lot of time trying to service that tarp of bullshit that's stretched so thinly above you. And along comes Paul Greengrass, and his little movie, and it rips the cover off.
Trailers about the Rwandan genocide? A-ok. Flight 93, not ok? Would someone hurry up and make a Darfur trailer already? Maybe if they stuck it after The Benchwarmers, somebody might work up enough outrage to complain to the manager. Maybe you'll get a free movie out of the deal.
If you saw Bloody Sunday, you know what's coming from Greengrass on this one. I'm sure the movie will be hard to watch.
But then again, Americans have done entirely enough looking away over the last five years. The anger you felt that day, the trauma -- it led you to allow your government to do some pretty amazing things in your name. We can exploit for drama all the tragedies of others, but we cannot face our own? We can cause misery, but we can't revisit our own -- and maybe this time see it in the context of people who actually did a righteous thing, instead of people who have relentlessly exploited it to do the wrong things -- things that you've been complicit in ever since? I call bullshit. Sit still. Shutup. Watch the trailer.
Then read a goddamn newspaper -- preferably one that doesn't have their heads planted firmly in the sand.
Or, you know, keep watching FOX News. Your call. But don't ask me to feel bad for you crying into your popcorn.
And by the way, if you want to tell me that I hate America, my only request is that you email me, we arrange to meet, and you say it to my face, so we can sort it out proper.
Tuesday, April 4, 2006
This is kind of neat
And in another, realer way, it's also a little bit retarded.
Well, some of us did. Others of us just confederated. Whatever that means. Sounds a little pervy to me.
Yes, Europe. We know. You're different. That's why we fought a war to be free of you.
Call it a coincidental sign of our digital times or a reason to stay up late and stare at the clock. Either way, early Wednesday morning the time and date will be 01-02-03-04-05-06.
Well, some of us did. Others of us just confederated. Whatever that means. Sounds a little pervy to me.
The Bouncy Bouncy Sex Problem
Good article on Slate today from freelance writer Kate Aurthur
From "Do It Already!":
I pretty much agree with her timeline and provenance: this all does go back to Moonlighting. I always liked that quote I read somewhere about Steed and Mrs. Peel, where one of the creators thought that those two had gotten their affair out of the way years ago -- that it was in the past.
What I wonder is, will the reality-tv, faux Bachelor-like coupling at work in new reality shows, plus the internet screaming fanfic demanding all possible couples couple now! now! now! ever evolve into a shift away from the dominant "unconsummated" trope at work in all these shows today? In a world or a generation where "hooking up" is no big deal, is that engine still going to be the thing that drives series? Or are we coming to the end of the Maddie-David-Moonlighting era?
From "Do It Already!":
When did these stunted relationships become so prevalent? Did the trend begin with M*A*S*H, which featured derisive repartee between Hawkeye and Hot Lips? Did the respectful but playful dynamic between Mrs. Peel and John Steed of The Avengers pave the way for Mulder and Scully? Cheers was one of the first comedy programs to make sexual tension its central premise. Sam and Diane's love-hate relationship drove the show during its Shelley Long years, and made a serial out of a sitcom. The couple's power struggle had more in common with Dallas than it did with Happy Days, All in the Family, or any other successful sitcom that came before it—Friends would not have existed if Cheers hadn't.
I pretty much agree with her timeline and provenance: this all does go back to Moonlighting. I always liked that quote I read somewhere about Steed and Mrs. Peel, where one of the creators thought that those two had gotten their affair out of the way years ago -- that it was in the past.
What I wonder is, will the reality-tv, faux Bachelor-like coupling at work in new reality shows, plus the internet screaming fanfic demanding all possible couples couple now! now! now! ever evolve into a shift away from the dominant "unconsummated" trope at work in all these shows today? In a world or a generation where "hooking up" is no big deal, is that engine still going to be the thing that drives series? Or are we coming to the end of the Maddie-David-Moonlighting era?
The Learnin' Problem
Alex pointed out this article about an L.A. Showrunner's class. It's a good read -- pay special attention to the section about how to handle "room-killing" behavior.
What struck me most reading this article was how opposite the Canadian experience has been, traditionally.
I'm not surprised that the scribes in this room were most bowled over by the budgeting procedure. I sweat just thinking about that stuff, too.
Here in Canada, most of the people who run shows actually come up through line producing, not writing. Many have worked their way up by working on U.S. service productions, or what we called "industrial" series back in the 80's or 90's (shows like Relic Hunter, The Lost World, First Wave -- stuff meant mainly for syndication.) So they've got a great grounding in the business end. Especially since the business end is so complex here -- the soup of tax credits, government money, broadcaster money and foreign sales you have to navigate to raise your budget is daunting at best.
But that stuff is all boring. So naturally, many of these business-savvy people would rather be involved in creative. Who wouldn't? Problem being: they don't have the background, the grounding, or the experience in writing. But writing is one of those things that everyone thinks they can do, right?
The things that writers whisper about most often here is the tortured experiences they've had trying to get story points and dramatic development across to one producer or another. There are some producers who just want to rip off whatever movie they've just seen; others who inject their own experiences so far into the process that it seems more like therapy than creative alchemy; still others who refuse to see -- or who are unable to see -- when a scene needs to accomplish more than one thing. (The no one will get that defense.)
One writer I know told me that once she turned in her scripts, and knew the non-writing producer with the tin ear was going to be re-writing her, she would go home and cry, throw up, and drink -- in that order.
I've said before that if you're not willing to be rewritten, do not go into TV. It happens. And sometimes the people rewriting you -- producers, network execs, actors, directors -- don't know as well as you do, and don't come up with better solutions. In the U.S., where the buck stops with a writer, you're insulated against the worst sins that can arise from this situation. Here, where the writer is more marginalized, that can sometimes be trouble. Then there's the series here that are written entirely freelance, with no staff componet whatsoever. But that's another tale entirely.
Neither situation is perfect, and the article does a great job of showing the potential problems of letting writers run the roost. ($150 000 A DAY? GULP.) But I wonder, in the end, is it easier to teach a weird creative person how to read a budget? Or make a creative writer out of a producer?
I don't have the answer to that. What I do know is that in the U.K., they manage to have a higher quality threshold in a system where a lot of the producers don't write. So...what's the difference? Is it respect for the Writer? What?
What struck me most reading this article was how opposite the Canadian experience has been, traditionally.
I'm not surprised that the scribes in this room were most bowled over by the budgeting procedure. I sweat just thinking about that stuff, too.
Here in Canada, most of the people who run shows actually come up through line producing, not writing. Many have worked their way up by working on U.S. service productions, or what we called "industrial" series back in the 80's or 90's (shows like Relic Hunter, The Lost World, First Wave -- stuff meant mainly for syndication.) So they've got a great grounding in the business end. Especially since the business end is so complex here -- the soup of tax credits, government money, broadcaster money and foreign sales you have to navigate to raise your budget is daunting at best.
But that stuff is all boring. So naturally, many of these business-savvy people would rather be involved in creative. Who wouldn't? Problem being: they don't have the background, the grounding, or the experience in writing. But writing is one of those things that everyone thinks they can do, right?
The things that writers whisper about most often here is the tortured experiences they've had trying to get story points and dramatic development across to one producer or another. There are some producers who just want to rip off whatever movie they've just seen; others who inject their own experiences so far into the process that it seems more like therapy than creative alchemy; still others who refuse to see -- or who are unable to see -- when a scene needs to accomplish more than one thing. (The no one will get that defense.)
One writer I know told me that once she turned in her scripts, and knew the non-writing producer with the tin ear was going to be re-writing her, she would go home and cry, throw up, and drink -- in that order.
I've said before that if you're not willing to be rewritten, do not go into TV. It happens. And sometimes the people rewriting you -- producers, network execs, actors, directors -- don't know as well as you do, and don't come up with better solutions. In the U.S., where the buck stops with a writer, you're insulated against the worst sins that can arise from this situation. Here, where the writer is more marginalized, that can sometimes be trouble. Then there's the series here that are written entirely freelance, with no staff componet whatsoever. But that's another tale entirely.
Neither situation is perfect, and the article does a great job of showing the potential problems of letting writers run the roost. ($150 000 A DAY? GULP.) But I wonder, in the end, is it easier to teach a weird creative person how to read a budget? Or make a creative writer out of a producer?
I don't have the answer to that. What I do know is that in the U.K., they manage to have a higher quality threshold in a system where a lot of the producers don't write. So...what's the difference? Is it respect for the Writer? What?
Writers in a Room: What Kind of Whine To Serve?
So last night in Toronto there was a little get together pre-national forum of the Writers Guild of Canada.
It's not the big-writer hoo-ha get together: that happens at the end of this month at the Canadian Screenwriting Awards. This was just a small pub thing to, I don't know, canvas the membership.
Get a bunch of writers in a room and some surprising things happen. You learn some stuff.
I learned, for instance, that my irrational attachment and feeling that Veronica Mars has managed to crack the standalone vs. arc problem is not a unique view.
I learned, once again, that get-togethers are very different when there's not forty actors in the middle of the room doing the "please look at me! me! me!" dance.
I learned that I have a certain fond affection for the writer's version of that dance: "please don't look at me under any circumstances, but damnit, listen to what I'm telling you."
I continued my strange tradition of having conversations about Stephen Sondheim when it's least expected.
I learned that translation work is not as well-regulated as it should be, which is odd for a country that purportedly has two official national languages.
I learned that I'm not alone in wishing for a network executive who will just stand up, lay it on the line, and say, "This is my Lost, my Office, my Seinfeld...I will spend my capital on this. I believe in this show and I will stand behind it and fight for it."
I learned that when you've had nothing but whisky and Guinness and one Yogurt all day, finger foods are clearly awesome.
I learned that I probably have to shut up about the goddamn CBC.
I learned that yes, writers are witty and fun, and wicked and scabrous and incredibly intelligent. And that none of that matters because noone listens to a damn thing we say. Ever.
And then someone stole my coat. So you know, if you were at the Bedford Academy last night and you walked off with a grey sort of sportscoat that clearly wasn't yours, I wish you bird flu.
So there. I learned I would like the power to smite people.
I should have known that about myself before.
It's not the big-writer hoo-ha get together: that happens at the end of this month at the Canadian Screenwriting Awards. This was just a small pub thing to, I don't know, canvas the membership.
Get a bunch of writers in a room and some surprising things happen. You learn some stuff.
I learned, for instance, that my irrational attachment and feeling that Veronica Mars has managed to crack the standalone vs. arc problem is not a unique view.
I learned, once again, that get-togethers are very different when there's not forty actors in the middle of the room doing the "please look at me! me! me!" dance.
I learned that I have a certain fond affection for the writer's version of that dance: "please don't look at me under any circumstances, but damnit, listen to what I'm telling you."
I continued my strange tradition of having conversations about Stephen Sondheim when it's least expected.
I learned that translation work is not as well-regulated as it should be, which is odd for a country that purportedly has two official national languages.
I learned that I'm not alone in wishing for a network executive who will just stand up, lay it on the line, and say, "This is my Lost, my Office, my Seinfeld...I will spend my capital on this. I believe in this show and I will stand behind it and fight for it."
I learned that when you've had nothing but whisky and Guinness and one Yogurt all day, finger foods are clearly awesome.
I learned that I probably have to shut up about the goddamn CBC.
I learned that yes, writers are witty and fun, and wicked and scabrous and incredibly intelligent. And that none of that matters because noone listens to a damn thing we say. Ever.
And then someone stole my coat. So you know, if you were at the Bedford Academy last night and you walked off with a grey sort of sportscoat that clearly wasn't yours, I wish you bird flu.
So there. I learned I would like the power to smite people.
I should have known that about myself before.
Monday, April 3, 2006
Speak, Writers, Speak.
Sometimes I try to explain to people a little younger to me what it used to be like to be interested in TV on a professional level in the pre-Entertainment Weekly, pre-E.T., pre-Internet days.
It's usually a lost cause -- like trying to explain to University Arts undergrads how there's more to "researching" than "Googling."
Time was, if you wanted to learn about how a show was really put together, you had to buy screenwriting magazines, or attend sessions or talks -- which pretty much put you S.O.L. if you lived in Des Moines instead of L.A.
Even today, with "extended content" and "exclusive behind the scenes" stuff emerging as the newest carrot for promotion, the balance is tipped more toward the breathy B.S. that we've all seen and read before: interviews with Actors talking about "their characters." Such insight. Woo.
Anyway, that being said there are a number of places you can turn now if you really want insight into the actual creation of TV shows on a regular basis. Some I've mentioned before here, some not. Some are revealing, some are fluff. (Actually, I've tried to weed out the fluff, but don't quote me on that.)
The Gold Standard is probably Battlestar Galactica. Ronald D. Moore is more candid on his weekly podcasts for the show than just about any writer-producer I've ever heard. I think it helps that the commentaries are recorded soon after the episodes are completed, before they're aired. There's a very different quality to his insights, fresh out of the trenches. Normal commentaries are recorded for the DVD release months or years after the show was produced, and it often seems like the person trying to recall the distant memory of what it was like to work on the episode. (Trust me, when you're in production, anything other than two episodes ago is ancient history.)
Moore is more than generous in his insights -- and the nice thing is that most of his comments really do surround the construction of story, and why scenes are the way they are.
The crazed fans of the old-series, for whom the new BSG can do no right, will no doubt view these commentaries as Moore's attempts to justify himself. Looking at it with a more professional eye, I think it's just a case of Moore being relieved to finally get to steer the show, and have it recieved so well. I get the impression that his years toiling within the Star Trek straitjacket have left Moore so thrilled about getting to do things his way, that he wants to share his enthusiasm.
And his comments aren't a wank. In fact, some of the most effective commentaries are on episodes that Moore admits are subpar. His deconstruction of what went wrong, and why the episodes (specifically, "Black Market") don't work, is, if anything, more illuminating than the comments on the shows that sing. (You always learn more from failure than success.)
Moore cagily knows that this level of interaction can help cement loyalty to a show. But as a peek into the process for new or working writers, it's invaluable.
What prompted this post is a brand new post, available on the SciFi Channel Site or on Itunes, that takes you inside the writers' room. I haven't listened to all of it yet, and I doubt with the tape rolling that it will be the free-for-all that you sometimes get, but it's appointment listening nonetheless. Moore and BSG continue to blaze the way toward making the process of crafting a TV show more transparent. (Note to Canadian Readers: this Podcast discusses an episode that won't air on SPACE for another couple of weeks, so if you don't want to be spoiled, wait.)
LOST has run some interesting podcasts. Again, there's some actor stuff in there, too. But if you search you can find some gold.
I like Fred Goss's blog for Sons & Daughters because amidst the actor praise, it shows you the psyche and a bit of the experience of a writer working for a network. Yes. Writers are all this neurotic. So could you cut us a %@$ing break people? We're delicate artistes, too.
Commander In Chief is also doing a podcast, though their stuff features a bit too much Actor-gab for me. The conversation between two writers with differing political views is interesting, though.
Scrubs offers a mixed bag -- some actor stuff, but there's some writer insight there too. I've enjoyed quite a bit of it.
The Grey's Anatomy Grey's Writers site is a bit chatty cathy, and more gossipy than analytical, but there are good lessons there about theme and how they fit together, and some insight into showrunning, and why writers make the character choices they do.
If anyone has any other suggestions for good, writer-based show blogs or podcasts, leave 'em below in the comments.
And don't forget to tip your waitresses.
It's usually a lost cause -- like trying to explain to University Arts undergrads how there's more to "researching" than "Googling."
Time was, if you wanted to learn about how a show was really put together, you had to buy screenwriting magazines, or attend sessions or talks -- which pretty much put you S.O.L. if you lived in Des Moines instead of L.A.
Even today, with "extended content" and "exclusive behind the scenes" stuff emerging as the newest carrot for promotion, the balance is tipped more toward the breathy B.S. that we've all seen and read before: interviews with Actors talking about "their characters." Such insight. Woo.
Anyway, that being said there are a number of places you can turn now if you really want insight into the actual creation of TV shows on a regular basis. Some I've mentioned before here, some not. Some are revealing, some are fluff. (Actually, I've tried to weed out the fluff, but don't quote me on that.)
The Gold Standard is probably Battlestar Galactica. Ronald D. Moore is more candid on his weekly podcasts for the show than just about any writer-producer I've ever heard. I think it helps that the commentaries are recorded soon after the episodes are completed, before they're aired. There's a very different quality to his insights, fresh out of the trenches. Normal commentaries are recorded for the DVD release months or years after the show was produced, and it often seems like the person trying to recall the distant memory of what it was like to work on the episode. (Trust me, when you're in production, anything other than two episodes ago is ancient history.)
Moore is more than generous in his insights -- and the nice thing is that most of his comments really do surround the construction of story, and why scenes are the way they are.
The crazed fans of the old-series, for whom the new BSG can do no right, will no doubt view these commentaries as Moore's attempts to justify himself. Looking at it with a more professional eye, I think it's just a case of Moore being relieved to finally get to steer the show, and have it recieved so well. I get the impression that his years toiling within the Star Trek straitjacket have left Moore so thrilled about getting to do things his way, that he wants to share his enthusiasm.
And his comments aren't a wank. In fact, some of the most effective commentaries are on episodes that Moore admits are subpar. His deconstruction of what went wrong, and why the episodes (specifically, "Black Market") don't work, is, if anything, more illuminating than the comments on the shows that sing. (You always learn more from failure than success.)
Moore cagily knows that this level of interaction can help cement loyalty to a show. But as a peek into the process for new or working writers, it's invaluable.
What prompted this post is a brand new post, available on the SciFi Channel Site or on Itunes, that takes you inside the writers' room. I haven't listened to all of it yet, and I doubt with the tape rolling that it will be the free-for-all that you sometimes get, but it's appointment listening nonetheless. Moore and BSG continue to blaze the way toward making the process of crafting a TV show more transparent. (Note to Canadian Readers: this Podcast discusses an episode that won't air on SPACE for another couple of weeks, so if you don't want to be spoiled, wait.)
LOST has run some interesting podcasts. Again, there's some actor stuff in there, too. But if you search you can find some gold.
I like Fred Goss's blog for Sons & Daughters because amidst the actor praise, it shows you the psyche and a bit of the experience of a writer working for a network. Yes. Writers are all this neurotic. So could you cut us a %@$ing break people? We're delicate artistes, too.
Commander In Chief is also doing a podcast, though their stuff features a bit too much Actor-gab for me. The conversation between two writers with differing political views is interesting, though.
Scrubs offers a mixed bag -- some actor stuff, but there's some writer insight there too. I've enjoyed quite a bit of it.
The Grey's Anatomy Grey's Writers site is a bit chatty cathy, and more gossipy than analytical, but there are good lessons there about theme and how they fit together, and some insight into showrunning, and why writers make the character choices they do.
If anyone has any other suggestions for good, writer-based show blogs or podcasts, leave 'em below in the comments.
And don't forget to tip your waitresses.
Fox Confessions from Neko Case
I've been feeling rather poorly these last few days -- and don't ask me with what - it's low grade but unpleasant.Anyway, I got it together for a few hours to go see a concert last night.
NEKO CASE has been plying her trade for a number of years now. She's one of the voices in the alt.group New Pornographers, and she can often be found palling around with friends The Sadies and Calexico. Or maybe you caught the weird fooferal a few years back when Playboy named her its sexiest indie artist (or something like that.)
Anyway, Case is famous for her brilliant red hair and supple, clear, and bone-chillingly pure torchy voice. Like a lot of artists who don't quite fit in the box, it's been hard to know where to slot her. This is complicated somewhat by the fact that, up til now, her songwriting hasn't always met the challenge posed by that sing-it-to-the-rafters voice. Her most successful album to date, I believe, was a live EP she released last year with the Sadies backing her. That CD, "The Tigers Have Spoken" showed some of why she's so prized as a live performer, and featured a few covers as well as some of the songs she wrote with The Sadies.
Last night, Toronto's refurbished (if still unfinished) Danforth Music Hall played host to the second date of her tour for her new album Fox Confessor Brings The Flood. I was excited to see this show because the album has been blowing me (and a lot of critics) away.
Neko acknowledged during the show how much working and writing with The Sadies has helped and changed her ("they built me from the ground up," she said.) The songs on the new album are haunting, bloody, visceral sketches that plumb the dark territories of the human heart. If you're singing around a campfire singing a bunch of murder ballads in the middle of the desert at night, well, you kind of want Neko Case and her singing "mate" Kelly Hogan there.
The interplay between Case and Hogan's vocals have always been a high point of their live shows. (I had a chance to see them sing The Band's "Evangeline" with The Sadies and Garth Hudson on Keyboards last month in a small Toronto club. Yes. It was as good as it sounds.)
After getting off to a slow start (the mix was muddy for the first few songs) the evening settled into an arresting, if odd, vibe. Neko said the Danforth Hall was a little "spooky," which works with the new material on the album just fine. We all know the drill by now: the new songs are the stick on every tour, til you get to the carrot of the old favorites. Not so this time. This was one of those few shows where the new songs were the highlight. They served to underline just how strong that new material is. These are the songs that have garnered her the best reviews and acclaim of her career, along with a recent appearance on the Tonight Show.
Then she sneaks up on you with something like her lovely cover of Bob Dylan's "Buckets of Rain."
I remember being fascinated and energized by the inspiration that Paul Thomas Anderson took from the songs of Aimee Mann when he crafted Magnolia. To me, Neko Case is that kind of inspirational artist. I put on her CD and drive the dusty byways of songs about dirty knives and coming in at three a.m. "Alone, Thank God," and I imagine the time when I can lovingly edit a scene of one of my shows around those rapturous vocals. I want to hear her sing Leonard Cohen. I want to write a Magnolia to Neko.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Other Shoes Dropping
A couple of interesting stories yesterday with special interest for anyone in Canadian TV.
First, in the ongoing saga of "what's going to happen with CBC, anyway?," they hired a new head of Arts yesterday.
Fred Fuchs sounds to be an intriguing choice. Besides the "marquee value" (Oh man, he worked with Coppola!) he's got a lot of what will make CBC'ers and other Cantypes swoon: he's had a career in the States, he comes out of line producing to creative, so he actually has a good handle on both the economics and the creative side of things. And did we mention Coppola? (Actually, Virgin Suicides wasn't that bad either.)
Basically, what this means is that Fred Fuchs will be the guy who develops, and previously announced VP Kirstine Leyfield will program and oversee the whole schedule.
For my money, the most interesting thing about Fuchs is that he moved back to Canada to be with his wife, who's from Toronto. He quit California to come here and has been making it as an independent producer. And he thinks -- as I do -- that the future of storytelling in Canada is in TV not film. He's got a foot in both worlds, and that, to me, is the key to telling Canadian stories in the future. We are a nation concerned with the world, not ourselves -- and there's no one we're concerned with more than the U.S. A bit of a shakeup to the system is just what's needed.
So my quiet optimism continues. I think he's in for a shock when he sees what the culture of the CBC is like inside -- but as an outsider himself, he's not tied to the same old people who bring the same old programs. The next three months should be pretty interesting.
It's certainly better than the other piece of news CBC got yesterday. The giant headquarters on Front Street, christened "Fort Dork" during the Lockout, was originally developed in the 1980's and early 90's so that CBC could have a unified production presence downtown, instead of being spread over 80 buildings in downtown Toronto, as it used to be. A few years ago, the brain trust decided that they could make money by renting a floor to tenants. Then, post lockout, the big idea was to squeeze the people making programs into even smaller spaces so they could pimp out more of the "broadcast centre." Well, the City of Toronto yesterday told them they were not interested in that idea at all. That was their big money making idea. Renting out the extra rooms.
Hoo-boy.
Meanwhile, my whole past talk about private TV networks here congratulating themselves for being great shoppers is now out in the zeitgeist with a nifty figure to back it up. A study released yesterday showed that Canadian private networks spend almost five times the amount of money on buying U.S. programs as they do producing Canadian ones. The full story is here. Even if you don't give a fig about TV drama, you gotta admit, the optics on that don't look great.
Hopefully, that might dull -- just a bit -- the preening and self-congratulatory sense of self-importance of some of the acquisition-types swanning around Toronto. What a kick it would be if occasionally, that bubble got pierced with a "Good for you. You can shop. But can you make hits?"
After all, it may be fun, but I don't think American Idol's doing much for Canadian Culture.
Though I still think we need a few new standard bearers for the cause. It's time that the press stopped trotting out ACTRA spokespeople and Ian Morrison from Friends of Canadian Broadcasting every time a story like this gets published. I mean, do they even bother to get new quotes? Or do they just rewrite the old ones?
First, in the ongoing saga of "what's going to happen with CBC, anyway?," they hired a new head of Arts yesterday.
Fred Fuchs sounds to be an intriguing choice. Besides the "marquee value" (Oh man, he worked with Coppola!) he's got a lot of what will make CBC'ers and other Cantypes swoon: he's had a career in the States, he comes out of line producing to creative, so he actually has a good handle on both the economics and the creative side of things. And did we mention Coppola? (Actually, Virgin Suicides wasn't that bad either.)
Basically, what this means is that Fred Fuchs will be the guy who develops, and previously announced VP Kirstine Leyfield will program and oversee the whole schedule.
For my money, the most interesting thing about Fuchs is that he moved back to Canada to be with his wife, who's from Toronto. He quit California to come here and has been making it as an independent producer. And he thinks -- as I do -- that the future of storytelling in Canada is in TV not film. He's got a foot in both worlds, and that, to me, is the key to telling Canadian stories in the future. We are a nation concerned with the world, not ourselves -- and there's no one we're concerned with more than the U.S. A bit of a shakeup to the system is just what's needed.
So my quiet optimism continues. I think he's in for a shock when he sees what the culture of the CBC is like inside -- but as an outsider himself, he's not tied to the same old people who bring the same old programs. The next three months should be pretty interesting.
It's certainly better than the other piece of news CBC got yesterday. The giant headquarters on Front Street, christened "Fort Dork" during the Lockout, was originally developed in the 1980's and early 90's so that CBC could have a unified production presence downtown, instead of being spread over 80 buildings in downtown Toronto, as it used to be. A few years ago, the brain trust decided that they could make money by renting a floor to tenants. Then, post lockout, the big idea was to squeeze the people making programs into even smaller spaces so they could pimp out more of the "broadcast centre." Well, the City of Toronto yesterday told them they were not interested in that idea at all. That was their big money making idea. Renting out the extra rooms.
Hoo-boy.
Meanwhile, my whole past talk about private TV networks here congratulating themselves for being great shoppers is now out in the zeitgeist with a nifty figure to back it up. A study released yesterday showed that Canadian private networks spend almost five times the amount of money on buying U.S. programs as they do producing Canadian ones. The full story is here. Even if you don't give a fig about TV drama, you gotta admit, the optics on that don't look great.
Hopefully, that might dull -- just a bit -- the preening and self-congratulatory sense of self-importance of some of the acquisition-types swanning around Toronto. What a kick it would be if occasionally, that bubble got pierced with a "Good for you. You can shop. But can you make hits?"
After all, it may be fun, but I don't think American Idol's doing much for Canadian Culture.
Though I still think we need a few new standard bearers for the cause. It's time that the press stopped trotting out ACTRA spokespeople and Ian Morrison from Friends of Canadian Broadcasting every time a story like this gets published. I mean, do they even bother to get new quotes? Or do they just rewrite the old ones?
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
And then the lightning bolt hit him...
George W. Bush on Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez:
"Hi Pot? It's Kettle..."
I hate to quote Friends, but y'know, since it's nominally a TV writing blog and all.
"I judge the president based upon his honoring of the institutions that make democracy sound in Venezuela ... And it's very important for leaders throughout the hemisphere, whether they agree with America or not, to honor the tenets of democracy. And to the extent he doesn't do that, then I believe he should be subject to criticism."
"Hi Pot? It's Kettle..."
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
A little Ipecac for Cana'jun TeeVee Scribes.
Kelly J. Compeau alerted me to this post from TVwriter.com when she reposted it in a comment over on Alex's blog. I don't check out tvwriter.com too much, but I have a friend, a working writer, who swears that Larry Brody's insights helped him a lot. The full discussion is here.
Here, to me anyway, are the most relevant parts:
But the thing is, I can't really fault much of what's said there.
Now, I can quibble -- especially with the part about Canadian directors. For every Jeremy Podeswa who finds his way directing U.S. TV, there are other Canadians who are used to being auteurs in our small film industry, who misunderstand the role of the director on the TV series, and who fail horribly. There are horror stories that people in the know have heard about big-time (such as it is) Canadian directors who have screwed up series because they didn't follow the template or "make the show." These are things whispered in confidence, not usually shouted. Nor shall they be here.
There's also a reciprocal element that might not be familiar to American readers, but that I'm sure any Canadian, UK, Irish, Australian or French readers will understand (okay, maybe not the French) -- and that is the rule of nationalistic mediocrity.
That rule can be boiled down to this: If they work in the U.S., they must be better. This rule has allowed many people to get away with murder in Canada. It doesn't matter what the relative quality of the U.S. credits were -- merely that they had them. Agin. No names.
But what of the central point, here? The idea that
It's depressing. But back when I was reading scripts for cash, I was dismayed to see several high profile projects that were on their way into production where the plot took forever to get going, and where things were hopelessly muddled.
There's a lot of reasons that could be behind this. One is a lack of opportunity and mentorship for beginning writers. As I've said here many times before, fewer shows and fewer episode orders mean a dearth of opportunity for new writers to get better by learning from experienced showrunners and moving up the ladder. In the U.S., you move up the ladder, taking on more and more responsibility (and greater skill) as you go. Here, often the only way to break in is to create your own show...sometimes long before you're ready, or even have that much TV experience. And unlike the UK, there isn't great support for playwriting here, so that you can matriculate in the theatre, and move to television as an accomplished writer in another medium.
Then there's the problem of lack of opportunity. It enforces a sort of clubby nepotism, at best, or outright cronyism at worst -- where the same people keep getting projects because they have gotten "into the club." I would never, ever point fingers at any show or writer in specifics -- because TV, like all art, is subjective. What I consider genius might leave you cold. (I will also delete anyone slagging off any particular writer or show in the comments below...this is no place to settle scores.)
I do think it's pretty telling that in Canada, I'm considered to be a "young writer," when in L.A., I'd be considered practically geriatric.
Another reason for the problems of slowness and pacing could be the fact that there are a lot of non-writers creating shows here. A deal is so hard to put together, and in many cases, the person with final say isn't necessarily a gifted writing showrunner. They could be a very fine producer, or salesperson, but not so much with the writing. The writer's voice is marginalized or ignored, or treated as a voice in the chorus, no more influential or meaningful than any other.
Or they're hired too late in the process. The desire to pinch pennies and maximize budget means that once a show gets out of development and gets greenlit, the writers they hire don't have too much lead time before shooting (to save on weekly salaries.) That's penny wise and pound foolish, nine times out of ten.
"Head Writer" is a term that you see used in Canada for series all the time. In the United States, you don't see that credit except on panel or sketch shows like Letterman, or The Daily Show or SNL. You certainly don't see it on drama series. To Americans used to the progressing (writer-based) titles of Staff Writer, Story Editor, Executive Story Editor, Co-Producer, Producer, Supervising Producer, Co-Executive Producer, Executive Producer it's going to be pretty puzzling, too. The head writer is different than the US system because whatever influence they have is really at the discretion of the Producer (who doesn't write.) They could have a lot of influence. They could have none. Trust me, to those of us concerned with improving our craft through steady work and learning, it's a little frustrating, because there's no way to know what kind of situation you're going to be in until you're in it. In TV, if the writing is not respected and given its due, then only three things can replace it: the ascendency of the actors (which comes with its own set of problems) or directors (who will always favor their particular episode over what's good for the series as a whole) or, more likely, the power will rest with a non-writing producer (who have the production on their mind, and who may, or may not, have good story sense. If you come from a writing background, you can get very quickly when something's up or wrong with the script. If you don't...it's a crapshoot.)
Of course, the best non-writing producers are the ones who do listen to their writers. The ones who will allow a case to be made for why it needs to be this way, not that way, and, when the case makes sense, nod their heads and go, "yup." Not decide out of ego -- I'm in charge so what I say goes -- but "I'm in charge and the most important thing is the show, so I don't care if your idea is better than my idea so long as it's the right idea for the show."
I've worked for those people, too. And all it means is an extra step. The job still gets done. Those showrunners are golden, even if they don't write. Because in the writing room, the best idea wins -- so if you internalize that skill, you're halfway there. It's not that the Head Writer concept can't work. It plainly can -- but it takes a very special kind of producer, with a very special kind of ego. It's just a general indication that the idea of writers as essential parts of the process is somewhat debased in the Canadian system (unless they've worked in L.A.!) Most of the time, the deal takes precedencce over the art.
What else could result in the categorization above? Well, until recently, getting a show on the air in Canada meant getting it through CTF and Telefilm, too, the quasi-governmental agencies that help fund TV in Canada. That meant guessing what the funders would go for -- which weren't always the most commercial, grabby ideas. That's starting to change with the new funding system, thank heaven. Broadcasters now have a little more power to greenlight shows that they think are good -- not ones they think can get through the process.
Then there's development. Slow-pacing and muddled scenes can often come from an over-development process that leads to scenes that are supposed to be about "character" that stop the story dead in its tracks, rather than weave that character info with a crackerjack, exciting, speedily moving story.
Sadly, sometimes, I have been asked in notes to back away from big act outs. I've been told to take longer setting something up when my every instinct is telling me to get to the point. I've heard horror stories of much, much worse from other writers. In fact, touch wood, except for a very few cases, I've had a pretty charmed experience with development people. I count myself lucky on that score.
Some of the most refreshing work I've done lately is in animation, a genre to which I'm still a little new. The nice thing about animation is sitting in a meeting with a good story editor and hearing, "that idea's great, but we need to get to it by the end of the teaser." This is when it was pitched as the Act One out. Nine times out of ten, that's way better than the reverse.
"Don't rush through this" is a crippling note you get a lot in Canada.
I want to say whenever I get that note, "can't we rush through it, but have the impact weigh larger? In other words, can't we do two things at once, here?"
It's not always the case, but often, the idea to keep shit moving -- and moving fast -- is not a bad one. I look at the act outs on 24, Prison Break, LOST, House -- and I think, "is it just me that knows that even if your show isn't action based, even if it's emotional and interior a lot of the time, then your act out has to have the emotional-interior equivalent bomb for one of the characters -- in other words, the emotional equivalent of a great Jack Bauer double cross on 24?"
Anyway. The bottom line is that I know personally, and have met, and have read, LOTS of Canadian writers who are willing and able to scrub down, wash off, and change this categorization of our talents, given the opportunity and the freedom to actually do it, and take the risk, and not have our ideas committeed, overdeveloped, pounded to pulp and squeezed out --
--but at the same time, I also hear the other side of the story.
It seems like I've been making a lot of excuses here, right? Spinning plates and vamping and explaining why it's not the Canadian writers' fault. And every example I've given above is true. It does happen. But there's another reason.
As Pogo said, "I have seen the enemy, and he is us."
Sometimes, we do suck. I'm not saying this with classic Canadian defeatism, but in the spirit of honest, forthright, and needed self-criticism.
I've met and spoken to a lot of well-meaning producers looking to employ Canadian writers, who get scripts from Canadian literary agencies where there are typos and grammatical errors on every page. This happens more than you think.
I've read writing samples, sent out to try to get work - that were boring.
Boring! How can your sample be boring?
I know a kindred spirit when I meet one, because they'll be familiar with every new show that's out there. They will have seen at least part of an episode. They know what's on the air, they know what's doing well, they know what's coming up. Why? That's the price of being a professional. You'd be surprised how many writers working in Toronto, or Montreal, or Vancouver aren't really that familiar with what's new, and what's out there. I've even met writers in Toronto who want to write for television who say that they hate television. That depresses me no end.
As much as we all may carp about the lack of opportunities and all the rest of it, we must not shirk from the criticism implied in the above post, either. There is definitely a bit of Cassius going on here. You remember what Cassius said, don't you? In Julius Caesar.
Here, to me anyway, are the most relevant parts:
Canadian productions generally do not want Canadian Writers. They want U.S. Writers...It does read rather harshly, doesn't it?
Sounds strange, doesn't it? And it doesn't apply to Canadian Directors. Just Canadian Writers.
When it's the point system, Canadian co-productions will trade the Canadian Writers for Canadian Directors in order to secure U.S. Writers. Canadian Directors, in fact, have done very well in the U.S., but no one in the U.S. is talking about those Canadian Writers.
When it's French/Canadian, many times they will hire Canadian "Writers" but, in fact, have a staff of U.S. Writers writing without credit (amazingly enough, sometimes with their offices in Los Angeles).
When it's a purely Canadian production, they will look for U.S. Writers who have landed immigrant status in Canada.
The reasons for this aren't going to be something that is easy to say or easy to hear. It's going to be upsetting, especially for Canadian Writers. And it is this: Canadian Writers are generally regarded as not very good. Their story plotting is slow, their characters are confusing and/or shallow, their logic is flawed and the products aren't very exciting. Please keep in mind, I'm giving you the general prejudice, not saying that I agree with it or would feel right applying such a generality to a specific person.
But, in fact, this is true with almost all other foriegn productions, they all prefer U.S. Writers. In this perception, U.S. Writers reign supreme. We could get into a long discussion as to why (personal belief is that the U.S., after WW II, basically recreated the world according to U.S. Standards and TV was the major emerging techology at that time). But even the French had to enact laws to prevent U.S. Television product from overwhelming their airwaves.
But the thing is, I can't really fault much of what's said there.
Now, I can quibble -- especially with the part about Canadian directors. For every Jeremy Podeswa who finds his way directing U.S. TV, there are other Canadians who are used to being auteurs in our small film industry, who misunderstand the role of the director on the TV series, and who fail horribly. There are horror stories that people in the know have heard about big-time (such as it is) Canadian directors who have screwed up series because they didn't follow the template or "make the show." These are things whispered in confidence, not usually shouted. Nor shall they be here.
There's also a reciprocal element that might not be familiar to American readers, but that I'm sure any Canadian, UK, Irish, Australian or French readers will understand (okay, maybe not the French) -- and that is the rule of nationalistic mediocrity.
That rule can be boiled down to this: If they work in the U.S., they must be better. This rule has allowed many people to get away with murder in Canada. It doesn't matter what the relative quality of the U.S. credits were -- merely that they had them. Agin. No names.
But what of the central point, here? The idea that
Their story plotting is slow, their characters are confusing and/or shallow, their logic is flawed and the products aren't very exciting.Well. Honestly, I have to say that in many cases, not all, but many -- this is deadly true.
It's depressing. But back when I was reading scripts for cash, I was dismayed to see several high profile projects that were on their way into production where the plot took forever to get going, and where things were hopelessly muddled.
There's a lot of reasons that could be behind this. One is a lack of opportunity and mentorship for beginning writers. As I've said here many times before, fewer shows and fewer episode orders mean a dearth of opportunity for new writers to get better by learning from experienced showrunners and moving up the ladder. In the U.S., you move up the ladder, taking on more and more responsibility (and greater skill) as you go. Here, often the only way to break in is to create your own show...sometimes long before you're ready, or even have that much TV experience. And unlike the UK, there isn't great support for playwriting here, so that you can matriculate in the theatre, and move to television as an accomplished writer in another medium.
Then there's the problem of lack of opportunity. It enforces a sort of clubby nepotism, at best, or outright cronyism at worst -- where the same people keep getting projects because they have gotten "into the club." I would never, ever point fingers at any show or writer in specifics -- because TV, like all art, is subjective. What I consider genius might leave you cold. (I will also delete anyone slagging off any particular writer or show in the comments below...this is no place to settle scores.)
I do think it's pretty telling that in Canada, I'm considered to be a "young writer," when in L.A., I'd be considered practically geriatric.
Another reason for the problems of slowness and pacing could be the fact that there are a lot of non-writers creating shows here. A deal is so hard to put together, and in many cases, the person with final say isn't necessarily a gifted writing showrunner. They could be a very fine producer, or salesperson, but not so much with the writing. The writer's voice is marginalized or ignored, or treated as a voice in the chorus, no more influential or meaningful than any other.
Or they're hired too late in the process. The desire to pinch pennies and maximize budget means that once a show gets out of development and gets greenlit, the writers they hire don't have too much lead time before shooting (to save on weekly salaries.) That's penny wise and pound foolish, nine times out of ten.
"Head Writer" is a term that you see used in Canada for series all the time. In the United States, you don't see that credit except on panel or sketch shows like Letterman, or The Daily Show or SNL. You certainly don't see it on drama series. To Americans used to the progressing (writer-based) titles of Staff Writer, Story Editor, Executive Story Editor, Co-Producer, Producer, Supervising Producer, Co-Executive Producer, Executive Producer it's going to be pretty puzzling, too. The head writer is different than the US system because whatever influence they have is really at the discretion of the Producer (who doesn't write.) They could have a lot of influence. They could have none. Trust me, to those of us concerned with improving our craft through steady work and learning, it's a little frustrating, because there's no way to know what kind of situation you're going to be in until you're in it. In TV, if the writing is not respected and given its due, then only three things can replace it: the ascendency of the actors (which comes with its own set of problems) or directors (who will always favor their particular episode over what's good for the series as a whole) or, more likely, the power will rest with a non-writing producer (who have the production on their mind, and who may, or may not, have good story sense. If you come from a writing background, you can get very quickly when something's up or wrong with the script. If you don't...it's a crapshoot.)
Of course, the best non-writing producers are the ones who do listen to their writers. The ones who will allow a case to be made for why it needs to be this way, not that way, and, when the case makes sense, nod their heads and go, "yup." Not decide out of ego -- I'm in charge so what I say goes -- but "I'm in charge and the most important thing is the show, so I don't care if your idea is better than my idea so long as it's the right idea for the show."
I've worked for those people, too. And all it means is an extra step. The job still gets done. Those showrunners are golden, even if they don't write. Because in the writing room, the best idea wins -- so if you internalize that skill, you're halfway there. It's not that the Head Writer concept can't work. It plainly can -- but it takes a very special kind of producer, with a very special kind of ego. It's just a general indication that the idea of writers as essential parts of the process is somewhat debased in the Canadian system (unless they've worked in L.A.!) Most of the time, the deal takes precedencce over the art.
What else could result in the categorization above? Well, until recently, getting a show on the air in Canada meant getting it through CTF and Telefilm, too, the quasi-governmental agencies that help fund TV in Canada. That meant guessing what the funders would go for -- which weren't always the most commercial, grabby ideas. That's starting to change with the new funding system, thank heaven. Broadcasters now have a little more power to greenlight shows that they think are good -- not ones they think can get through the process.
Then there's development. Slow-pacing and muddled scenes can often come from an over-development process that leads to scenes that are supposed to be about "character" that stop the story dead in its tracks, rather than weave that character info with a crackerjack, exciting, speedily moving story.
Sadly, sometimes, I have been asked in notes to back away from big act outs. I've been told to take longer setting something up when my every instinct is telling me to get to the point. I've heard horror stories of much, much worse from other writers. In fact, touch wood, except for a very few cases, I've had a pretty charmed experience with development people. I count myself lucky on that score.
Some of the most refreshing work I've done lately is in animation, a genre to which I'm still a little new. The nice thing about animation is sitting in a meeting with a good story editor and hearing, "that idea's great, but we need to get to it by the end of the teaser." This is when it was pitched as the Act One out. Nine times out of ten, that's way better than the reverse.
"Don't rush through this" is a crippling note you get a lot in Canada.
I want to say whenever I get that note, "can't we rush through it, but have the impact weigh larger? In other words, can't we do two things at once, here?"
It's not always the case, but often, the idea to keep shit moving -- and moving fast -- is not a bad one. I look at the act outs on 24, Prison Break, LOST, House -- and I think, "is it just me that knows that even if your show isn't action based, even if it's emotional and interior a lot of the time, then your act out has to have the emotional-interior equivalent bomb for one of the characters -- in other words, the emotional equivalent of a great Jack Bauer double cross on 24?"
Anyway. The bottom line is that I know personally, and have met, and have read, LOTS of Canadian writers who are willing and able to scrub down, wash off, and change this categorization of our talents, given the opportunity and the freedom to actually do it, and take the risk, and not have our ideas committeed, overdeveloped, pounded to pulp and squeezed out --
--but at the same time, I also hear the other side of the story.
It seems like I've been making a lot of excuses here, right? Spinning plates and vamping and explaining why it's not the Canadian writers' fault. And every example I've given above is true. It does happen. But there's another reason.
As Pogo said, "I have seen the enemy, and he is us."
Sometimes, we do suck. I'm not saying this with classic Canadian defeatism, but in the spirit of honest, forthright, and needed self-criticism.
I've met and spoken to a lot of well-meaning producers looking to employ Canadian writers, who get scripts from Canadian literary agencies where there are typos and grammatical errors on every page. This happens more than you think.
I've read writing samples, sent out to try to get work - that were boring.
Boring! How can your sample be boring?
I know a kindred spirit when I meet one, because they'll be familiar with every new show that's out there. They will have seen at least part of an episode. They know what's on the air, they know what's doing well, they know what's coming up. Why? That's the price of being a professional. You'd be surprised how many writers working in Toronto, or Montreal, or Vancouver aren't really that familiar with what's new, and what's out there. I've even met writers in Toronto who want to write for television who say that they hate television. That depresses me no end.
As much as we all may carp about the lack of opportunities and all the rest of it, we must not shirk from the criticism implied in the above post, either. There is definitely a bit of Cassius going on here. You remember what Cassius said, don't you? In Julius Caesar.
The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars, but in our selves -- that we are underlings.
Bill's Shine
Well, if you're looking to the guy from Toronto for L.A. based news then clearly there's a disconnect, but just in case you don't frequent the fine watering hole put up by one Bill Cunningham, but you are going to be in and around L.A., be advised that he's doing a panel at the Screenwriter's Showcase at the Universal Sheraton in early April.
Bill's side of the business -- D2DVD -- is the one that's NOT currently tanking. So if you want to know from DVD extras, well...take up his offer to chat him up in the bar.
Details on his site here.
Bill's side of the business -- D2DVD -- is the one that's NOT currently tanking. So if you want to know from DVD extras, well...take up his offer to chat him up in the bar.
Details on his site here.
How I Met Your Mother (Redux)
So people kept talking about it. I kept hearing that it was good. And I am no head in the sand ostrich. So over the last couple of days I've watched back a few episodes of How I Met Your Mother.
I think it's found its feet. It's actually kind of funny. I still think it's nowhere near as ambitious as where the sitcom needs to go, and both Alyson Hannigan and the guy from Freaks and Geeks could have sharper lines written for them -- but the performances are engaging, the plots are good, and the lead guy has grown on me. And Neil Patrick Harris is actually a treat.
Anyway. My bad. Sometimes (most of the time) new shows take a while to find their way. This one has. How I Met Your Mother works.
Look at those Cavemen Go!
Here's some news....courtesy C21 Media...
While this is good news for UK Prodco Kudos, I'm not sure it's great news for the viewers. This particular series works in its original version because it's a fanciful concept treated completely seriously. Kelley's penchant for ... well ... making David Kelley shows might not serve the material that well.
And if it holds up screening the original or a DVD release on these shores, well, that kind of blows, too.
And they're cramping my wheelhouse, too.
No sir. Don't like it.
But, they're in the best selling show.
I wonder what lame song they'll use instead of Life On Mars? Probably something by the goddamn Eagles.
(thanks to Big Bald Marvin for the tip)
UPDATE: Well, they're not happy about this over at the Mad Pulp Bastard's digs, either. But the comments there made me realize something truly horrifying.
Does this mean that instead of that creepy English test pattern girl he's going to be guided in the dead of night by a stereotypical Native Indian in full head dress?
There's gonna be letters...
Popular BBC1 drama series Life on Mars is being remade in the US by the producer behind Ally McBeal, marking UK indie Kudos's first format deal.
David Kelley (Ally McBeal, Picket Fences) has nabbed format rights to the series and is grooming Life on Mars as a one-hour drama for fall 2007 at US network ABC. According to US reports, Kelley will write and executive produce a pilot through his overall production deal at 20th Century Fox TV.
While this is good news for UK Prodco Kudos, I'm not sure it's great news for the viewers. This particular series works in its original version because it's a fanciful concept treated completely seriously. Kelley's penchant for ... well ... making David Kelley shows might not serve the material that well.
And if it holds up screening the original or a DVD release on these shores, well, that kind of blows, too.
And they're cramping my wheelhouse, too.
No sir. Don't like it.
But, they're in the best selling show.
I wonder what lame song they'll use instead of Life On Mars? Probably something by the goddamn Eagles.
(thanks to Big Bald Marvin for the tip)
UPDATE: Well, they're not happy about this over at the Mad Pulp Bastard's digs, either. But the comments there made me realize something truly horrifying.
Does this mean that instead of that creepy English test pattern girl he's going to be guided in the dead of night by a stereotypical Native Indian in full head dress?
There's gonna be letters...
Monday, March 27, 2006
Jane Eyre pages Doctor Cameron, Whacks Writerboy
A few weeks back, well in my cups at The Spoke Club with a group of smartypants writer types, the subject turned to novels, or adaptations of novels, and, you know, Pride and Prejudice came up.
And I quickly went off the rails. Amidst the swooning over Mr. Darcy that every man has endured for probably, I don't know, the last two hundred years, I may have made the egregious error of pooh-poohing Jane Austen. In fact, if my wine-addled-mind serves, Austen might not have been the only one in the crosshairs. I think I took out the Brontes, too. All of them.
Many're the men who've been bored to tears hearing of Pride and Prejudice, and Jane Eyre, and the like. We try to deflect -- bringing up a Great Expecations, or even downshifting into Sense & Sensibility, or (if it's going really badly) Emma...but alas, this evening it was not to be.
I even did the ultimate dumb guy thing: directed a woman to read Nick Hornby for a view of how men view romance.
I know. Sometimes I'm so middlebrow I horrify even myself.
Anyhow, it's with great amusement, and with no shortage of humility, that I direct you to this insightful little character sketch in Sunday's New York Times.
It's an appreciation of Dr. Cameron, Dr. House's sparring partner on that eponymously-named medical mystery series.
After reading the article, to my everlasting shame, not only do I realize that the writer is completely right about the gothic nature of the Cameron-House relationship, but I have to admit that this is probably my favorite thing about the show.
All Apologies. Better go dig out those Bronte sisters and moldy Austens.
Damnit.
And I quickly went off the rails. Amidst the swooning over Mr. Darcy that every man has endured for probably, I don't know, the last two hundred years, I may have made the egregious error of pooh-poohing Jane Austen. In fact, if my wine-addled-mind serves, Austen might not have been the only one in the crosshairs. I think I took out the Brontes, too. All of them.
Many're the men who've been bored to tears hearing of Pride and Prejudice, and Jane Eyre, and the like. We try to deflect -- bringing up a Great Expecations, or even downshifting into Sense & Sensibility, or (if it's going really badly) Emma...but alas, this evening it was not to be.
I even did the ultimate dumb guy thing: directed a woman to read Nick Hornby for a view of how men view romance.
I know. Sometimes I'm so middlebrow I horrify even myself.
Anyhow, it's with great amusement, and with no shortage of humility, that I direct you to this insightful little character sketch in Sunday's New York Times.
It's an appreciation of Dr. Cameron, Dr. House's sparring partner on that eponymously-named medical mystery series.
After reading the article, to my everlasting shame, not only do I realize that the writer is completely right about the gothic nature of the Cameron-House relationship, but I have to admit that this is probably my favorite thing about the show.
All Apologies. Better go dig out those Bronte sisters and moldy Austens.
Damnit.
Well Gollum-gee!
The other thing that happened in Toronto this weekend, of course, was the opening of the musical stage version of Lord of the Rings.
Most of the critics weren't too kind.
To most arts-people in Toronto, this wasn't really a surprise. After nearly two months of previews, the buzz had been pretty negative.
What gets me, reading between the lines of the various reviews, is how the show failed.
It seems like just about everyone praises the stagecraft. There are rotating stage pieces, big sets, rising and falling platforms -- all manner of excellent hoo-hah and spectacle.
It's just that the songs, and the story weren't very good. A pretty key omission.
Amidst all the outscaled elements, somehow they lost the human (hobbit?) story of Sam and Frodo, and the fellowship, and the quest. The book lurches from place to place without cohesion -- all sturm and drang, no heart.
One of the reviews, and I forget which one described the musical score thusly -- and I'm paraphrasing here: they said it was like someone went into the world music section of a record store and scooped up a bunch of CD's at random.
I was a little worried about exactly that when I heard the four or five names of people who were working on the music. There didn't seem to be any connection or cohesive vision to it. Many of the reviews called out this one, incongruous Celine Dion-like belter, an 11'o'clock number that you know's supposed to be the breakout hit, but which, like most of the show, simply doesn't fit.
What struck me about Lord of the Rings and the reaction to it was that all of this seemed very, very familiar. In the Canadian film and tv industry, we have crews now who've been trained by the golden years of American service productions to be very, very good. The cliche used to be that Canadian shows had a "look" to them, which meant that they looked cheap. But now, if it looks cheap, it's cause not enough money was spent.
If they have the money to spend, Canadian stuff can look beautiful.
But we still have not licked the problem of story. (I know that LOTR is a big UK co-pro, so it's not entirely Canadian, but still, it was birthed here.)
Vision is something that gets talked a lot about here. Telefilm talks about it, CBC Presidents and VPs talk about it. Filmmakers talk about it all the time.
But in another, more real way, vision and story is just the little cat-toy that the fourteen people around the table in the big meeting toss around. People that have vision don't get to see it get to screen supported -- they see it committeed out of them...and people who can talk to Telefilm or please the mandarins get to scoop up money and accolades, even though they miss the point that the real story is about two innocent travellers, and their quest to do the right thing and stay true to themselves and their friendship.
Reading the bad reviews for Lord of the Rings gave me the opposite feeling from schadenfreude. (Is there a word for that? Sympathetic Pain, perhaps? Toxic Empathy?) Toronto desperately needs the tourism injection a long-running show like this would provide. The producers of the show are already saying that the reviews don't matter. I gather Les Miz and many other hit musicals had anemic reviews at first (though they didn't come of age in the blog and net age, when that bad mojo is always just a couple of keystrokes away.)
But the reaction of the producers, and the subtle shift to how they're trying to critic-proof the show now, smacks of something I remember from my theater history.
The shift now is toward describing the show as "a spectacle." It's not a play, it's not a musical...it's a spectacle.
Well. After Shakespeare died, the theater in England generally went out of fashion for awhile. Instead, the courtiers and the wealthy turned back to giant, opulent masques. People would dress up, and recreate a static scene, down to minute detail. And people would ooh and ah and clap. No story. No challenge. No vision. Just...pretty.
Sounds pretty horrible to me.
Most of the critics weren't too kind.
To most arts-people in Toronto, this wasn't really a surprise. After nearly two months of previews, the buzz had been pretty negative.
What gets me, reading between the lines of the various reviews, is how the show failed.
It seems like just about everyone praises the stagecraft. There are rotating stage pieces, big sets, rising and falling platforms -- all manner of excellent hoo-hah and spectacle.
It's just that the songs, and the story weren't very good. A pretty key omission.
Amidst all the outscaled elements, somehow they lost the human (hobbit?) story of Sam and Frodo, and the fellowship, and the quest. The book lurches from place to place without cohesion -- all sturm and drang, no heart.
One of the reviews, and I forget which one described the musical score thusly -- and I'm paraphrasing here: they said it was like someone went into the world music section of a record store and scooped up a bunch of CD's at random.
I was a little worried about exactly that when I heard the four or five names of people who were working on the music. There didn't seem to be any connection or cohesive vision to it. Many of the reviews called out this one, incongruous Celine Dion-like belter, an 11'o'clock number that you know's supposed to be the breakout hit, but which, like most of the show, simply doesn't fit.
What struck me about Lord of the Rings and the reaction to it was that all of this seemed very, very familiar. In the Canadian film and tv industry, we have crews now who've been trained by the golden years of American service productions to be very, very good. The cliche used to be that Canadian shows had a "look" to them, which meant that they looked cheap. But now, if it looks cheap, it's cause not enough money was spent.
If they have the money to spend, Canadian stuff can look beautiful.
But we still have not licked the problem of story. (I know that LOTR is a big UK co-pro, so it's not entirely Canadian, but still, it was birthed here.)
Vision is something that gets talked a lot about here. Telefilm talks about it, CBC Presidents and VPs talk about it. Filmmakers talk about it all the time.
But in another, more real way, vision and story is just the little cat-toy that the fourteen people around the table in the big meeting toss around. People that have vision don't get to see it get to screen supported -- they see it committeed out of them...and people who can talk to Telefilm or please the mandarins get to scoop up money and accolades, even though they miss the point that the real story is about two innocent travellers, and their quest to do the right thing and stay true to themselves and their friendship.
Reading the bad reviews for Lord of the Rings gave me the opposite feeling from schadenfreude. (Is there a word for that? Sympathetic Pain, perhaps? Toxic Empathy?) Toronto desperately needs the tourism injection a long-running show like this would provide. The producers of the show are already saying that the reviews don't matter. I gather Les Miz and many other hit musicals had anemic reviews at first (though they didn't come of age in the blog and net age, when that bad mojo is always just a couple of keystrokes away.)
But the reaction of the producers, and the subtle shift to how they're trying to critic-proof the show now, smacks of something I remember from my theater history.
The shift now is toward describing the show as "a spectacle." It's not a play, it's not a musical...it's a spectacle.
Well. After Shakespeare died, the theater in England generally went out of fashion for awhile. Instead, the courtiers and the wealthy turned back to giant, opulent masques. People would dress up, and recreate a static scene, down to minute detail. And people would ooh and ah and clap. No story. No challenge. No vision. Just...pretty.
Sounds pretty horrible to me.
Weekend Reading
As I said last week, I took a few days away from the blog because I had nothing to say and I felt I needed a little break. Truth be told, I've been working flat-out for a while now and I probably need more than a blog-break -- but schedule and finances and other committments just made it unworkable.
I have high hopes for the end of April.
After a great spate of work last week, I also needed some creative recharging. So that's what I spent the weekend doing, more or less.
Norah Vincent's Self Made Man was one of the things I turned to. I wrote a bit about Vincent's book before. But that was based on the one chapter I'd read, a newspaper excerpt of an account of her months bowling in an all-male league. Now I've dipped farther into the book, and I can tell you that the insights keep coming. They're fresh and ever-surprising.
As a longtime lover (and dater) of women, I found the chapter on Dating to be fairly revelatory. She says something along the lines of, "women who date only men tend to put a lot of the bad things done to them down to men," then suggests that as a lesbian, once you date a few women, you come to have a different view. What's amazing about this chapter is how her POV keeps switching from female to male -- and how her sympathies shift too. She knows that there's something fundamentally deceiving in what she's doing, which is why if the dates go more than a couple of times, there's a confession. This is a longtime trope in the book -- it's very effective, because the post-confession conversations are invariably more interesting and even surprising.
Vincent is a sensitive, very expressive writer. And her fearless reportage of what she finds makes this a page turner. Another standout chapter is when she goes to a Catholic monastery, and experiences firsthand a lot of the male socialization rituals she finds most puzzling.
This seems like a weird book to read for fun, but it really isn't. A couple of my key projects right now involve male-female relationships: father-daughter, mother-son, two women in the workplace. As a never-married male, I've got a limited insight pool to bring to bear on some of these situations, and a burning desire to dramatize them correctly. I have my friends, and a few relatives -- though most of them are too far away to prove too useful. What gets me about Self Made Man, and the reason why I think it's ultimately a very useful book for all writers -- is that it plumbs the world underneath. It's about conflicts under the surface that no one talks about, contradictions in self and in identity that make otherwise inexplicable actions seem logical, nuanced, and natural.
People often say, when they read this script or that, that they were disappointed because nothing the character did surprised them. I'm starting to think that surprise is the wrong word. True surprise usually comes from an external source. What I think people are really missing is revelation. They miss actions taken by a main character that may seem surprising at the time, but that in context, when one considers this evidence or that, or when one gains this piece of the puzzle or that one -- actually seem like a natural, and eminently explicable reaction.
Ultimately, the reason why I'm enjoying Self Made Man so much is because there's revelation at every turn. It's one long-character reveal. Not only does the reader gain insight into Ned (Norah Vincent's "male" incarnation,) but Norah herself, and the many people she meets, and women and men generally.
It's a great book.
I have high hopes for the end of April.
After a great spate of work last week, I also needed some creative recharging. So that's what I spent the weekend doing, more or less.
Norah Vincent's Self Made Man was one of the things I turned to. I wrote a bit about Vincent's book before. But that was based on the one chapter I'd read, a newspaper excerpt of an account of her months bowling in an all-male league. Now I've dipped farther into the book, and I can tell you that the insights keep coming. They're fresh and ever-surprising.
As a longtime lover (and dater) of women, I found the chapter on Dating to be fairly revelatory. She says something along the lines of, "women who date only men tend to put a lot of the bad things done to them down to men," then suggests that as a lesbian, once you date a few women, you come to have a different view. What's amazing about this chapter is how her POV keeps switching from female to male -- and how her sympathies shift too. She knows that there's something fundamentally deceiving in what she's doing, which is why if the dates go more than a couple of times, there's a confession. This is a longtime trope in the book -- it's very effective, because the post-confession conversations are invariably more interesting and even surprising.
Vincent is a sensitive, very expressive writer. And her fearless reportage of what she finds makes this a page turner. Another standout chapter is when she goes to a Catholic monastery, and experiences firsthand a lot of the male socialization rituals she finds most puzzling.
This seems like a weird book to read for fun, but it really isn't. A couple of my key projects right now involve male-female relationships: father-daughter, mother-son, two women in the workplace. As a never-married male, I've got a limited insight pool to bring to bear on some of these situations, and a burning desire to dramatize them correctly. I have my friends, and a few relatives -- though most of them are too far away to prove too useful. What gets me about Self Made Man, and the reason why I think it's ultimately a very useful book for all writers -- is that it plumbs the world underneath. It's about conflicts under the surface that no one talks about, contradictions in self and in identity that make otherwise inexplicable actions seem logical, nuanced, and natural.
People often say, when they read this script or that, that they were disappointed because nothing the character did surprised them. I'm starting to think that surprise is the wrong word. True surprise usually comes from an external source. What I think people are really missing is revelation. They miss actions taken by a main character that may seem surprising at the time, but that in context, when one considers this evidence or that, or when one gains this piece of the puzzle or that one -- actually seem like a natural, and eminently explicable reaction.
Ultimately, the reason why I'm enjoying Self Made Man so much is because there's revelation at every turn. It's one long-character reveal. Not only does the reader gain insight into Ned (Norah Vincent's "male" incarnation,) but Norah herself, and the many people she meets, and women and men generally.
It's a great book.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Dead Things Stick-Fu
It's my fervent hope that I'm going to take a break for a few days. And when I say, "break," I mean "Blog break." Plenty of work still to do here in the shire.
I would like to thank the management of my condo building, who've been testing the fire alarm for the last two days, just as I had to burn ass churning out a script.
I would even more like to thank the dude who, when kibitzing on the emergency mic in the building during the alarm today, let slip just off mic, "No Luke, I am your father." Seriously dude. I plotzed.
The following is a list of some of my favorite blog topics on and about the whole thing when it comes to writing and the hey hey and the stuff like that. M'Kay?
Don't forget to tip your waitresses.
Seriously, buy me an Itunes certificate or something. Why should nubile hot co-eds get all the wishlists? I'm not Alex. I can't just tell you to buy my $#@!$ing book.
Writing Nitty & Gritty:
Preparing to write a spec script. Part One. Two. & Three.
And don't go crazy with the continuity.
How 24 Changed Everything
Protagonist or Hero?
What happens when you go up against bitter, bitter LOST fanboys? Well, it looks a lot like this or this.
What the hell's wrong with Canadian Television?
Or the CBC, for that matter?
Or Cancon?
Bottle shows and why you should love them.
US vs. Canadian vs. British TV
What the @%#$% is the Objective Correlative?
How men watch TV.
Those wacky sci-fi fans.
Should I include music cues in my script?
So why do I need a story room, anyway?
What if they won't pay me to write TV?
What does it take to be a Writer? HINT: It's kind of a lot like coming out.
Recently I've been working on a few new pilots. Which brings on the occasional bouts of sturm and drang.
On Comedy:
One
Two
Three
Conversations with Family
Logrolling and Admiration:
Sons & Daughters
The Unit
Checkin out Robert Towne.
A Charlie Brown Christmas
Charlie Jade
Profit
Commander in Chief
What I dug in 2005.
The E-book Valuable Lessons.
What's the future of TV? Beats me.
Important things I've learned from Drunks:
Really.
I would like to thank the management of my condo building, who've been testing the fire alarm for the last two days, just as I had to burn ass churning out a script.
I would even more like to thank the dude who, when kibitzing on the emergency mic in the building during the alarm today, let slip just off mic, "No Luke, I am your father." Seriously dude. I plotzed.
The following is a list of some of my favorite blog topics on and about the whole thing when it comes to writing and the hey hey and the stuff like that. M'Kay?
Don't forget to tip your waitresses.
Seriously, buy me an Itunes certificate or something. Why should nubile hot co-eds get all the wishlists? I'm not Alex. I can't just tell you to buy my $#@!$ing book.
Writing Nitty & Gritty:
Preparing to write a spec script. Part One. Two. & Three.
And don't go crazy with the continuity.
How 24 Changed Everything
Protagonist or Hero?
What happens when you go up against bitter, bitter LOST fanboys? Well, it looks a lot like this or this.
What the hell's wrong with Canadian Television?
Or the CBC, for that matter?
Or Cancon?
Bottle shows and why you should love them.
US vs. Canadian vs. British TV
What the @%#$% is the Objective Correlative?
How men watch TV.
Those wacky sci-fi fans.
Should I include music cues in my script?
So why do I need a story room, anyway?
What if they won't pay me to write TV?
What does it take to be a Writer? HINT: It's kind of a lot like coming out.
Recently I've been working on a few new pilots. Which brings on the occasional bouts of sturm and drang.
On Comedy:
One
Two
Three
Conversations with Family
Logrolling and Admiration:
Sons & Daughters
The Unit
Checkin out Robert Towne.
A Charlie Brown Christmas
Charlie Jade
Profit
Commander in Chief
What I dug in 2005.
The E-book Valuable Lessons.
What's the future of TV? Beats me.
Important things I've learned from Drunks:
Really.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Fact vs. Fiction on "Arrested"
The Hollywood Reporter has a great dash of cold water/warm water on the "Showtime picks up Arrested Development" rumors.
Bottom line makes it sound like it's up to creator Mitch Hurwitz. And the deadline is June. I'm not entirely sure about either of those things, either. But that's the way the Reporter makes it sound.
Bottom line makes it sound like it's up to creator Mitch Hurwitz. And the deadline is June. I'm not entirely sure about either of those things, either. But that's the way the Reporter makes it sound.
I Want My MTV?
The moon man lands today at 6pm ET.
MTV is finally launching in Canada, after a short, half-hearted and aborted attempt a couple of years ago on a couple of digi-channels, Canadian network Behemoth CTV is going to bring the venerable brand north.
Americans and people in other countries may be surprised to know that MTV isn't in Canada yet, mostly since it certainly seems to be everywhere else.
The MTV incursion was headed off for years by the fact that we in Canada had our own Music Video channel, Muchmusic. Though Muchmusic started three years after MTV, it came out of a tradition of music programming that had started on sister channels like Citytv -- whose New Music was one of, if not the first, program to bring journalist chops to music reportage. If you were a teen in Canada in the late 70's or early 1980's, you probably heard about Talking Heads, The Police, Elvis Costello, and any number of other bands from The New Music, and later, Much.
(Full disclosure here: for years I worked for CHUM, the parent company of Muchmusic, though except for a couple of small projects here and there, I never worked for Much directly.)
In its time, Muchmusic was pretty innovative. From the beginning, and especially after their 1986 move to their current digs on Queen Street West, Much was about interacting with the street. MTV VJ's did their links in a canned, empty studio. Much cameras would wander outside the building and up the block, and there was always something going on in the "environment."
Much presented Concerts in their environment, and people and fans piled in and asked questions. Much presented election coverage aimed at youth -- and believe me, there was no more arresting image than seeing a VJ like Master T bull his way into a scrum with the then-current Prime Minister, Brian Mulroney, and ask, "Yo Brian, what's up?"
In short, while MTV was exporting its brand around the world, scrappy Muchmusic was bending the rules as best it could, on a dollar-and-a-half budget and with a lot of heart.
Inevitably, things change. MTV started with the Real World, and slowly discovered its niche was lifestyle, not videos. Much was a little slower off that mark. Then again, MTV also looked north to its cousin and saw some things it liked, too. Total Request Live is, and was, an MTV response to the vibrancy and audience interaction Muchmusic brought to the airwaves every day.
What changed so much wasn't MTV, or Much, but the idea of who you were supposed to cater to, and how you were going to get them.
When MTV and Much first came on the scene, they were different because youth viewers weren't in the bullseye. I remember that time very well -- it wasn't too long ago when it was only the baby boomers who were in the demographic bullseye. Everything catered to the boomers. If you were young and you wanted to see yourself, or people like you, Much or MTV was the only place to do it.
Once the culture shifted, and everyone started chasing the youth brand, two things happened: the loyalty that initial generation had to Much and MTV was replaced by fickleness: when you have a host of choices, you don't feel the passionate connection to a channel as the only place to see your culture...and the channels themselves needed to change.
We know what happened to MTV...they deemphasized the M and got heavy into reality. Some shows changed the landscape, some dumb-downed the culture, and others just became crummy, comfort food fun.
Much tried to get bigger and slicker. There's nothing weirder now than tuning in and seeing the current "Much On Demand" show that airs daily -- mainly because it's a weird photocopy of Total Request Live. So, yeah -- Much is now doing a photocopy of the MTV photocopy of the format they invented.
Shows like the Muchmusic Video Awards tried to get bigger and better. The concerts aren't in the environment anymore, they're in the parking lot and they're huge. Oh, and they don't call it the environment, either.
The goofiness of years gone by is gone. No more do they pull stunts like the annual Christmas Tree Toss, where they set the Christmas tree on fire and chuck it off the roof into a dumpster, all to fake sports commentary ... nope, now Much is very much the slick, forced hip reflection of youth culture that you see everywhere else.
The problem with this is that Much never really could compete on that level. It doesn't really have the money. Not when stacked against CTV and MTV. CTV's launch plans for MTV include a programming block on the main network, an on-demand channel, and what sounds like a fairly major, major online venture where you can basically create your own MTV, MTV Overdrive. Eep. That's a lot of money right there.
Interestingly enough, in the battle for eyeballs and cultural touchstones that's about to take place, belatedly, in Canada, I find myself thinking of a little channel I saw in South Africa.
It's called GO. And it's a youth-branded station on the satellite there. They air MTV shows, but also youth targeted dramas like The O.C. (I still have one of their cheeky promo postcards: how's this for a tagline: what do these kids do for fun after school? Each other. Now that's funny.)
GO goes into malls, and runs testimonials from kids from all over South Africa. The ad campaigns they run are colorful and wacky, and very cheeky. The graphics, the approach, the schedule choice: everything about it says, "this is YOUR channel."
I found it recognisable. Familiar and comforting. Because that's what I remember youth TV being - a refuge from the larger culture where nobody cared about you. And I guess to an extent, the culture is still a little like that in South Africa.
Now that MTV and Much are going to battle it out on Canadian turf, head to head, I'm hoping the competition will be good for both. It's a chance for Much to step up and innovate again. MTV the channel here is saddled with a regulatory Talk-TV format which hopefully means it won't be able to horn in too much on Much's musical bonafides. In a culture where you're the only youth alternative, I'm not sure there's room for both, because one has to be the destination.
But now there is no one destination. There's VOD and Cell Phones and XBox and Broadband and as long as you're all chasing the same demographic, then I guess there's plenty of room in the tent.
I just can't help but feel that today's young people are missing something. If you're constantly being catered to, how do you ever discover anything outside your comfort zone?
Maybe you don't.
That's sad.
JAM article about the changeover is available here.
MTV is finally launching in Canada, after a short, half-hearted and aborted attempt a couple of years ago on a couple of digi-channels, Canadian network Behemoth CTV is going to bring the venerable brand north.
Americans and people in other countries may be surprised to know that MTV isn't in Canada yet, mostly since it certainly seems to be everywhere else.
The MTV incursion was headed off for years by the fact that we in Canada had our own Music Video channel, Muchmusic. Though Muchmusic started three years after MTV, it came out of a tradition of music programming that had started on sister channels like Citytv -- whose New Music was one of, if not the first, program to bring journalist chops to music reportage. If you were a teen in Canada in the late 70's or early 1980's, you probably heard about Talking Heads, The Police, Elvis Costello, and any number of other bands from The New Music, and later, Much.
(Full disclosure here: for years I worked for CHUM, the parent company of Muchmusic, though except for a couple of small projects here and there, I never worked for Much directly.)
In its time, Muchmusic was pretty innovative. From the beginning, and especially after their 1986 move to their current digs on Queen Street West, Much was about interacting with the street. MTV VJ's did their links in a canned, empty studio. Much cameras would wander outside the building and up the block, and there was always something going on in the "environment."
Much presented Concerts in their environment, and people and fans piled in and asked questions. Much presented election coverage aimed at youth -- and believe me, there was no more arresting image than seeing a VJ like Master T bull his way into a scrum with the then-current Prime Minister, Brian Mulroney, and ask, "Yo Brian, what's up?"
In short, while MTV was exporting its brand around the world, scrappy Muchmusic was bending the rules as best it could, on a dollar-and-a-half budget and with a lot of heart.
Inevitably, things change. MTV started with the Real World, and slowly discovered its niche was lifestyle, not videos. Much was a little slower off that mark. Then again, MTV also looked north to its cousin and saw some things it liked, too. Total Request Live is, and was, an MTV response to the vibrancy and audience interaction Muchmusic brought to the airwaves every day.
What changed so much wasn't MTV, or Much, but the idea of who you were supposed to cater to, and how you were going to get them.
When MTV and Much first came on the scene, they were different because youth viewers weren't in the bullseye. I remember that time very well -- it wasn't too long ago when it was only the baby boomers who were in the demographic bullseye. Everything catered to the boomers. If you were young and you wanted to see yourself, or people like you, Much or MTV was the only place to do it.
Once the culture shifted, and everyone started chasing the youth brand, two things happened: the loyalty that initial generation had to Much and MTV was replaced by fickleness: when you have a host of choices, you don't feel the passionate connection to a channel as the only place to see your culture...and the channels themselves needed to change.
We know what happened to MTV...they deemphasized the M and got heavy into reality. Some shows changed the landscape, some dumb-downed the culture, and others just became crummy, comfort food fun.
Much tried to get bigger and slicker. There's nothing weirder now than tuning in and seeing the current "Much On Demand" show that airs daily -- mainly because it's a weird photocopy of Total Request Live. So, yeah -- Much is now doing a photocopy of the MTV photocopy of the format they invented.
Shows like the Muchmusic Video Awards tried to get bigger and better. The concerts aren't in the environment anymore, they're in the parking lot and they're huge. Oh, and they don't call it the environment, either.
The goofiness of years gone by is gone. No more do they pull stunts like the annual Christmas Tree Toss, where they set the Christmas tree on fire and chuck it off the roof into a dumpster, all to fake sports commentary ... nope, now Much is very much the slick, forced hip reflection of youth culture that you see everywhere else.
The problem with this is that Much never really could compete on that level. It doesn't really have the money. Not when stacked against CTV and MTV. CTV's launch plans for MTV include a programming block on the main network, an on-demand channel, and what sounds like a fairly major, major online venture where you can basically create your own MTV, MTV Overdrive. Eep. That's a lot of money right there.
Interestingly enough, in the battle for eyeballs and cultural touchstones that's about to take place, belatedly, in Canada, I find myself thinking of a little channel I saw in South Africa.
It's called GO. And it's a youth-branded station on the satellite there. They air MTV shows, but also youth targeted dramas like The O.C. (I still have one of their cheeky promo postcards: how's this for a tagline: what do these kids do for fun after school? Each other. Now that's funny.)
GO goes into malls, and runs testimonials from kids from all over South Africa. The ad campaigns they run are colorful and wacky, and very cheeky. The graphics, the approach, the schedule choice: everything about it says, "this is YOUR channel."
I found it recognisable. Familiar and comforting. Because that's what I remember youth TV being - a refuge from the larger culture where nobody cared about you. And I guess to an extent, the culture is still a little like that in South Africa.
Now that MTV and Much are going to battle it out on Canadian turf, head to head, I'm hoping the competition will be good for both. It's a chance for Much to step up and innovate again. MTV the channel here is saddled with a regulatory Talk-TV format which hopefully means it won't be able to horn in too much on Much's musical bonafides. In a culture where you're the only youth alternative, I'm not sure there's room for both, because one has to be the destination.
But now there is no one destination. There's VOD and Cell Phones and XBox and Broadband and as long as you're all chasing the same demographic, then I guess there's plenty of room in the tent.
I just can't help but feel that today's young people are missing something. If you're constantly being catered to, how do you ever discover anything outside your comfort zone?
Maybe you don't.
That's sad.
JAM article about the changeover is available here.
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