Whoops.

APPARENTLY I GOT WIKILEAKED.

Aint I a stinker?

How To Give Notes

Indeed.

How to Give Notes.

Repost: Me & Mister C

TOM BOSLEY  --   to a generation of man-children who are starting to get squirrelly about revealing their ages, will forever and ever be our generation's model father...the kindly Mr. C, from Happy Days.  He died today at the age of 83.  Here's a remembrance Rob Sheridan wrote on this blog last year.

(Originally published May 21, 2009)



I didn’t start writing TV until I was 30. Based on my earliest credits you would think that would make me 38 by now, but you’d be wrong. I’m 32. So shut your face.


Anyway, before I started writing, I did a variety of things, one of which was working as a publicist for the now-defunct Livent out of Toronto. The one run by, you know… that guy.


I knew nothing about publicity and even less about musical theatre, but for whatever reason someone snatched me out of the mailroom one day and said “here, do this.” So I did it, for nearly four years, as my twenties quietly slipped away from me without my really noticing. Note to twentysomethings: Pay attention.


It wasn’t really a bad gig, though. I got to travel around the U.S. with the touring companies of the various shows and set up media interviews with the actors in each market. Sometimes it was a real A-list town like Boston, but usually it was places like St. Louis, Indianapolis, Hartford, Cleveland... cities you might not otherwise find yourself in, but were often more fun than you’d think. And sometimes not.


The lead actors in these shows tended to be people with some background in musical theatre, but were primarily known from television, and often sitcoms, hence the marquee value. Cloris Leachman. Betty Buckley. Pat Harrington. Yes, for a brief moment in time, I called Schneider from “One Day at a Time” a friend.


One slight variation was the time we had Dean Jones in a show. Dean was a Disney star in the early 70s and had been the original dude in “Herbie the Love Bug.” Very nice man.


One night Dean Jones and I are in the back of a limo trying to get to a television station way out in the sticks. Big snowstorm. Traffic’s just crawling. And Dean’s telling me about the height of his career, and it sounded pretty great. Lots of parties and women. Lots and lots of women. And I’m really enjoying the stories and feeling kind of envious until it all culminates in Dean having a moment of clarity in a hotel room late one night. At this point in his story he turns to me and says “Rob. Have you accepted Christ into your life?”


And so a long drive suddenly got a lot longer.


But I digress. The actual story I wanted to tell was about Tom Bosley, Mr. Cunningham from “Happy Days.” Tom was playing Cap’n Andy in one of the touring companies of and before his career in television, he too had been a musical theatre star, most notably in the tile role of “Show Boat,”“Fiorello!” back in the 50s.


When I first met him in Detroit several months earlier I had heard that he could be a little crusty at first, and I guess he was. But at some point not long thereafter I had taken the time to tell him that I had been a huge fan of “Happy Days” as a kid.


That in and of itself was unremarkable – Bosley heard this sort of thing a hundred times a day. But I also happened to mention, genuinely, that my favourite seasons of the show were the first two.


In case you’ve forgotten, during the first two seasons (the ones with the “Rock Around the Clock” opening instead of the other one) Happy Days was actually a single camera show. There was a laugh track, but no studio audience. The humour was a little smaller and more subtle, the cast didn’t have to play to the back row, and Fonzie was not yet a superhero. He was there, but more of the stories revolved around small stuff between Richie and Potsie, and Richie and his Dad. Most of these episodes are really kind of terrific, if you get a chance to check them out on DVD.


Anyway, I got the sense that Tom Bosley especially liked those shows as well because we got along like a house on fire after that. Couldn’t have been nicer.


So one day we were driving around San Francisco, visiting a bunch of local TV and radio stations for various interviews. Ron Howard also happened to be in town, shooting “Ed TV.” I had, in fact, seen Ron Howard putting mustard on his hot dog at a Giants game just the day before, but I was alone at the time and hadn’t found the courage to go up and say hi. That was already eating at me by the time Tom and I had our media day.


Then, out of nowhere, Tom turns to me over lunch and says, “Oh, you know… Ronny is shooting his movie around the corner. Do you wanna go visit the set and say hi?”


I told Tom I thought that would be a little bit of all right, and so we did.


There was the usual amount of security surrounding the perimeter of the set, but the funny thing was that we didn’t have to show or do anything to get on. Tom just smiled at one of the guards and said “I’m here to see my son” and the guy smiled wide and shook his hand and removed the barrier. It was kind of awesome.


Then, we march right up to Ron Howard, who is between set-ups, and for like, ten minutes, I just stood there talking to Richie and Mr. C. Well, mostly I just stood there slack-jawed, saying squat. But it was, as any other TV-baby like me might imagine, one of the highlights of my life.


The amazing thing is that not once, not even for a second, while I’m standing there with one of the biggest directors in the world, who is himself standing there talking to his TV-Dad, who also happens to be starring in the expensive live musical that I am in town to publicize, not once does it occur to me to tell someone to grab a fucking camera.


The point is: I was a really, really shitty publicist.


Wait. That wasn’t supposed to be the point of this story.


Oh, right, now I remember. So the Ron Howard encounter behind us, we returned to the business of the day, which was ferreting Tom around to all these TV and radio stations. And it was then that I noticed that every single person we came into contact with throughout the day had the exact same reaction as that security guard on the set. The second, and I mean the second, Tom Bosley walked into a room, there wasn’t a twenty, thirty or fortysomething person who didn’t immediately smile wide and, with almost childish enthusiasm, step forward to shake his hand.


It was like their own father had gone out for a pack of smokes 20 years ago, disappeared, and had magically returned. These people were positively giddy, I tells you.


At some point, at one of the TV stations, maybe the local NBC affiliate, the woman who booked the show comes up to me and says “You know, we’ve had a lot of big stars come through here.” And she rattles off a list of names I’ve mostly forgotten, but they were all big, A-list movie stars and rock stars. Springsteen, Cruise, Hoffman. This sort of thing. Then she says: “But I have never, ever seen the staff more excited about a guest coming in. It’s Mr. Cunningham.”


I got what she meant completely.


Now, I’m not saying this was the exact moment I decided I wanted to write for television (I’ll leave that for Chapter Two of my upcoming autobiography “Rob, We Hardly Knew Ye”) but it made a big impact on me nevertheless. I think in some way every television writer kind of quietly yearns to be writing for the movies. There’s a romance to that, and you know, it would be pretty cool.


The thing is, and I realize this has been said before by people a lot smarter than me, there really is something about the primacy and intimacy of that little box being right there, in your home, every single day, that establishes an emotional connection we’re simply never gonna have with Tom Cruise. That’s the magic of the medium. And while we’re all working on those desk drawer feature screenplays with visions of glowing marquees and opening night klieg lights dancing in our heads, I like to remind myself from time to time what a privilege it is to work in television, even if I never make 1/1000th the impact of a cultural touchstone like Mr. C.


That was my point. I’m sorry it took me so long to get there.


Anyway, as luck would have it, San Francisco was, I think, the last time I ever worked with Tom. Livent basically imploded at the end of the year, and that was that. But I remember lying in my hotel room that night and feeling kind of privileged to have had that experience, and then doing a little math and realizing that it was entirely possible that there were periods in my childhood when I spent more time with Mr. C. than I did with my own Dad.


This says absolutely nothing about my father, by the way, who was a wonderful guy. Only that I was horribly, horribly addicted to television. It was a real problem.


Still is.

Kate Taylor Tackles Canada's Culture for Eh or Nay.

KATE TAYLOR spent a year as an Atkinson Fellow looking into Canadian Culture, for an extended series of articles now available on the Toronto Star website.

I'm not returning to blogging, not anytime soon, anyway, but I've been waiting awhile for Kate to post her findings, so I wanted to call your attention to it.

An example:

if place generates self-respect, so does culture. In his 2008 book A Fair Country: Telling Truths About Canada, the philosopher and novelist John Ralston Saul accuses Canadian elites of harbouring colonial attitudes, always looking over their shoulders to check what is being done in the mother country, or now the United States.

His is a damning and painfully perceptive account of the mindset of those Canadian media leaders whose claims to cosmopolitanism are merely cover for a lack of ingenuity at home. It’s a phenomenon that manifests itself every year at the commercial broadcasters’ “upfronts,” the presentations of their new seasons to advertisers and the media.

At the CanWest upfront in June, for example, executive vice-president of content Barbara Williams trumpeted what shows she had just bought in L.A. and boasted of no less than 15 prime-time hours of simulcast American dramas. The commercial broadcasters’ business model is based on simulcasting U.S. shows, but the idea that such coattail-riding is worth bragging about strikes me as sad.

Canadian governments have embraced the notion that cities and communities need to be creative but, to judge from their funding, they don’t seem to have given much thought to who is going to do all this creating. Meanwhile, Ottawa’s talk of a digital economy focuses on technology rather than content. If we want a creative economy, we had better start by figuring out how our creative industries are going to survive past next year.

On their blogs and their fan sites, young, wired Canadians show great confidence as potential creators. But if the only place for professional creation is abroad, the only acceptable references either generic or American, we will be forced to deal with not just a continuing brain drain as the new generation of so-called prosumers follow the natural talent flow southwards. More worryingly, those left behind will only be the wannabes, the might-have-beens, the losers.

Bracing and honest, Northern Lights is great reading.  One more list worth breaking out:

Nine myths about Canadian culture

1. Fiction: Canada is a small country and a small market.

Fact: Canada is the 14th largest economy in the world, and English Canada is home to an estimated 26 million people. The cultural firmament is full of examples — Danish film, Quebec TV — where smaller populations sustain local content. English Canada’s challenges have to do with the cultural and physical proximity of the U.S., and with the country’s geographic spread.

2. Fiction: Canadians just don’t want to watch Canadian TV shows.

Fact: If that were true, Canadians would be the only people in the industrialized world who preferred American shows to domestic shows of comparable quality. U.S. shows do consistently outrank Canadian shows in ratings, but they have significant advantages over Canadian shows. Simulcasting means American shows appear twice on the dial. Canadian shows tend to be relegated to times when fewer people are watching, and they usually offer half the number of episodes, making it more difficult to build audiences. Nonetheless, Canadian shows do score with audiences: CTV’s Flashpoint, the highest-rated Canadian drama last season, drew an average of 1.5 million viewers.

3. Fiction: Canadian shows would get the ratings if they were any good.

Fact: After the U.S. and the U.K., Canada is one of the most significant exporters of TV programming in the world. Canadian shows regularly appear on U.S. specialty channels and European networks. CBC’s Being Erica is seen in 21 countries including Turkey, Poland and the U.S.

4. Fiction: They are shoving Cancon down our throats.

Fact: Canadian content regulations in radio and television have ensured there are Canadian choices that would not otherwise exist, but Canadians also have easy access to most American television, as well as all U.S. movies, music, books and magazines.

5. Fiction: Canadian movies are just bad.

Fact: How would you know? When have you ever seen one? It is estimated that Canadian films account for only 3 per cent of screen time in Canadian cinemas.

6. Fiction: The CBC is lavishly funded by the taxpayer. . .

Fact: At $33 per citizen per year, the CBC is one of the worst funded public broadcasters in the industrialized world. Only the United States and New Zealand pay less per capita for public broadcasting. Routinely cut and seldom increased, the CBC’s parliamentary appropriation, in today’s dollars, is worth $500 million less than it was in 1991.

7. Fiction: . . . unlike the commercial broadcasters, who have to survive without any government money.

Fact: There is no such thing as a free market in Canadian broadcasting. The commercial broadcasters are protected from competing American signals by regulation and also receive government subsidies for their Canadian programming in the form of tax credits and grants provided to TV producers.

8. Fiction: You can’t regulate the Internet; the CRTC might as well close up shop.

Fact: It’s not just the censors in Beijing who are looking at a national government’s ability to exercise some control over the Internet. In the United States, the broadcast regulator is attempting to establish rules for net neutrality; the Australian government upholds obscenity laws it created for the Internet in 1999. The question for the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC) is whether any kind of Canadian content regime on the Internet would be fair or effective.

9. Fiction: Canadian ownership is key to providing Canadian content.

Fact: The link between domestic ownership and domestic content is weak, depending more on producers’ business models than their patriotism. For a Canadian-owned broadcaster, it is easier to make money airing U.S. shows than producing Canadian ones. On the other hand, it is possible to make money on Canadian books and music, two areas where foreign companies do produce Canadian content.

Again....well, well, well worth reading.  Kate Taylor's full series can be found here.

Flame On!

So, it’s just shy of two months since I signed off this blog.  So why something new now?

Well the main reason is that it’s August 19^th.  So today marks five years since the first entry I made on Dead Things ON Sticks. 

I was not a young man when I started blogging, by any means.  But boy, I was naïve.  Through the ride, and now with a bit of time away from it, I realize that what I miss the most is talking about the flame.

So, to celebrate the 5^th anniversary of my leap into the blogosphere, I’m not going to take the bait on stupid stories about the CRTC or the continued craven doings of TV, Canadian style… let’s crack off one more good-old fashioned craft post about the joy of discovery and how the flame you protect leads to great television.

Right now it’s pitching season down here in L.A.  People are out honing their ideas and their concepts to try and sell.  I’m working stuff up,  others I know are working stuff up, the guy who delivered the Orange Chicken for lunch is working stuff up.

Here’s a return to the old, “where do you get your ideas?” question.  The hardest thing for civilians (TV viewers) and new writers (the ones who are afraid that the staff of so-and-so-show might steal your genius spec idea) to get straight is that your best ideas are not unique & beautiful flowers.

This all has to do with the odd & unique position TV occupies in the world of creative products. It comes into your home. You don’t have to go out to get it.  That creates a different, hazier vibe around “what works for tv.”  TV works best not when it’s completely different and original; TV works best when it’s a combination of original and familiar.  It’s new wine in old bottles.  The idea is not nearly as important as the execution of same.  In TV, writers make big money because of their ability to execute.

For all the praise The Sopranos got, the idea of the mobster with analysis and anxiety issues is – exactly the same as Analyze This – which was out at the same time.   Same basic idea. Different executions.  Alias. Covert Affairs. Same idea. Different executions.

In every show that works, there is a flame. There’s something about it that lights the way toward the most effective execution of the idea.   A nice little flame leads to a show that works. And if you don’t have the flame clear in your mind, and you don’t nurse it…no matter how good a writer you are, no matter how hard you work – the show’s not going to work, because you don’t know what people are supposed to be excited about.

Good writers are the people who can identify the flame and nurture it through development (or who can inspire their room to do the same.)

 It’s not to say the writers are the only ones who can find the flame, it’s just that, like truffle-locating pigs, we're the ones most likely to find it. If you let us.  Mmm. Truffles.

(And if you don’t let us – you could have 19 writers in a room for eight months, and you’re not gonna come up with a show that people love.  Sorry Chester.)

So sometimes when they do these remake shows that someone somewhere thinks are a slam dunk,  (Bionic Woman? Knight Rider?) and they arrive inert, it’s because that flame isn’t there. 

By all accounts, the Hawaii 5-0 pilot is great. When it airs in a couple weeks, watch it and ask yourself: what does this show have that Bionic Woman didn’t?

You may not like the show, you may not think it’s the best thing ever – but as another for instance: Rookie Blue. The flame on that show from the beginning, before there even was a finished script was: Grey’s Anatomy (the old bottle) but with cops. (New wine.)

I didn’t say it had to be, you know, expensive wine.  But there you go.

The nice thing about recognizing that flame is that it allows for cross-pollination.

I’m not the biggest Doctor Who fan in the world, but one of the reasons that everyone agrees with (and which is clear everytime you read Russell T. Davies’ interviews about the subject) is that Davies recognized the flame in Doctor Who – which is what allowed him to smartly update it & spark a new franchise.

Which brings me to my most joyous viewing discovery of late. 

From the pilot, I was a huge fan of HOUSE.  And the flame that everybody saw in that – the brilliant, acerbic Doctor…the male camaraderie, the mystery element – clearly burned brightly. 

And it was clearly familiar.

The flame, of course, was from Sherlock Holmes.   HOUSE had a huge debt (lovingly acknowledged) to Conan Doyle. (Holmes/Watson – House/Wilson etc.) 

Well, the BBC has gone and giddily gone back to the source, with SHERLOCK.  Sherlock Holmes is a consulting detective in Scotland Yard, with his good friend Watson, a Doctor back from Afghanistan.  Sherlock is acerbic, brilliant, viewed as a freak by the perplexed police that he helps.  He also sends texts, and uses all the 21^st century trappings of communication. 

It’s SHOCKING, if you grew up with the original stories and the Victorian settings of the old movies, to see how well this works.  Cross-pollination from Holmes to House, and now House has returned the favor by showing a way back to beloved characters seen fresh (and more natural to my eye than the Downey Jr. film).

In the same way, Sherlock creator  Stephen Moffat was able to recognize the flame in Friends and do a British version, COUPLING, that is arguably one of the only Friends-like shows that ever worked. Because he found something in the Friends formula and married it to British sensibilities seen in edgier sketch comedy shows, where the characters were just MAD.  The characters were recognizably, reliably British types.

(Come to think of it, Moffat took over from Davies this year on Doctor Who. Maybe people should just go talk to Stephen Moffat more.)

Interestingly enough, when they imported Coupling back across the pond, it was a flop because it was, to put it kindly, flameless. The characters who were funny in the British version didn’t have any verve in their American counterparts.  They didn’t bother to find plausible equivalents.

On the other hand, the American OFFICE succeeded because they found the American equivalent of the British characters.  It took a while, but they did it.  (Go back and watch the British show again, and it’s amazing how different Jim is from Tim, Pam from Dawn, and Michael from David).

If you’re not practiced in seeing the flame – looking at these few remakes and pollinations can help.  When it works, and when it’s missing.

And it’s not just a British-American thing either.

Canadian series Slings & Arrows was licensed for Brazil, in a Portuguese language version.  When it premiered, it got something like 18 million viewers.

One more thing.  Another British show, starring Idris Elba, is bananas.  LUTHER.  Oh man.  It’s just…great. 

Anyway, that’s my disjointed, running to the room, sunburned thoughts on the anniversary. Keep the flame burning in your scripts.  Don’t let it get noted or developed out of you. And don’t let people snuff that flame.  Or you’re not gonna have no fun and your show won’t work anyhow.

Let’s see…what else… oh yeah, in INCEPTION, the top totally stops spinning just after the cut to black.

Don’t get used to this, kittens. But hope you’re all well.

Now. Gotta go attend to the flame.  

Hopefully I'll see you before the next Friedman.

There is Wisdom In Brunch

THE SCENE: A sunny Sunday morning in pre-G20, soon-to-be-fortress-Toronto.  A circled table, light streaming in through huge windows. The sound of easy laughter & whispered confidences; a bit of gossip, some eggs, a couple of killer beignes and coffee for miles.

Six TV writers -- all Canadian.  All, strangely, working right now.  From far flung Nova Scotian comedies to single girl in the city shows,  to new plans & destinations & adventures and maybe even a little bit of Prairie heart.

The question is raised:  "What's the single best bit of career advice that you'd give to a noob? We're talking the knowledge hardest won... not "advice on writing" or "how to write" or "process advice."  Everybody's got that and you can find it everywhere you look if you take the time to Google.

More like, "what's the thing you know now you wish you knew then?"  Some thoughtful chewing, and many nods, before the torrent starts:

"When you're young, you're not as good as you think you are.  When you get old, you're not as bad as you think you are."

Nods & chirps; dark rumblings of, "Hey, I resemble that remark." But we're just getting started.

"I don't think I knew how important tenacity was.  There were people in University who were way more talented than me.  They were better writers. But I kept at it.  I'm better than they were then -- now -- but that's cause I kept going. Eventually you outlast people, if you stay focused.  Keep showing up."

An insanely juicy piece of gossip squeaks out.  A quick check to confirm for one and all that we are "under the dome."  Ah yes. The dome of silence.

"Keep your mouth shut."

Everybody laughs.

Someone quotes a personal mentor: "So-and-so's line was always, 'never repay petty with more petty.'"

The group takes stock, mentally flicking through the cards --  instances where pettiness was met; the scorecard of how often it was repaid, and how often one managed to rise above.

"Your best writing will never make it to the screen."  Nods all around.  And, "the market has nothing do you with your talent."

A few nods, a few quizzical glances, "I'm just saying that process is more important than product.  For all we do, to stay focused always on the commercial success, to fixate on that is ultimately meaningless.  All this, 'will the show go?'  It's more like, "How am I going to have a good day this week?"

"Having a show go doesn't excuse, condone, or ameliorate a situation if you're hating every minute, feeling abused, marginalized, belittled, ignored.  The writing can't be a chore; you have to enjoy the process. You have to have quality of life." 

After all, "it's just TV."

Sigh. Yes it is.  Oh, TV. Bitch mistress to us all. 

"Make friends with frustration.  It's the precursor to change. Frustration shouldn't make you give up -- your dissatisfaction is telling you something.  Keep at it and the breakthrough comes."

Sip of OJ.  Crunch of toast.  A slug of a mimosa.  I pipe in with my contribution, "Learn to write fast. There's no sense spending six months working on that spec script if the job is how much can you rewrite on the fly.  If you want to staff, you have to be able to crank pages out."

I get ragged, that's writing advice. I've broken my own rule.  A heaving sigh.  It's true. Too much blogging, I guess. The teat is dry.

A slide into shop talk.

"Isn't it fun to get premise-challenging notes at Blue?" Yes. Yes it is.

Everybody agrees that you get to a point where the "no asshole" rule is inviolable.  It doesn't matter how talented someone is if they're a jerk. It sucks all the goodwill out of the room.

But there will be idiots. Oh yes. They're everywhere.  Oh, the difficulties. The hours spent trying to keep your disbelief in check.  What about getting through that?  "You will survive the network executive who is making your life hell."

But how? How do you do all this? Stay tenacious, make friends with frustration, live through the assholes when they come, embrace process...never be petty -- it sounds great, but how? HOW? How do you do all this?

A beat.  Then,

"Remember that everyone was an itty bitty baby once, that their Mama loved.  If you can remember that, you can find the way to be kind."

Silence.  Just so.

The check comes.  Cash & the three credit card split. We write out the amounts to try and help the waiter.  Tally -- the tip is generous.  Deep down, we're service industry too. We know.






The sun's brighter now, even higher in the sky. It's going to scorch.  Hugs & Last glances;  stumble out into the day -- "Remind me of that TED talk you liked again?" And "How badly is the core fenced in?" And "how many more days you got?"  And as the group breaks up, brunched, sated, talked out, happy -- one final riposte, tossed over the shoulder as we depart:

"Never, ever, ever admit your real age."


W. Profound thanks & respeck to badlady, Clooney, KMac, Escog, and Whitey McLegs4days.

It Is Accomplished.

WELL THIS IS a day some time in coming.

It's with not too heavy a heart I'd like to let y'all know that effective immediately, I'm pressing 'pause'. Dead Things ON Sticks is finally, especially dead, or at least mostly dead, in that magical Princess Bride-y kinda way. Why? 

Wellll...

I've got a new gig that's going to take me to Los Angeles, like so many Canadian creatives before me. I apologize to the friends I didn't get to see before leaving: it came up as these things do, and boom, next thing you know, you're throwing clothes in a bag and hailing a taxi.

The gig is finite; the move...um...Ida know.   I think I can honestly say that I've tried as hard as anyone to make my stand here.  I've worked, agitated, evangelized & given to the cause of keeping quality Canadian creatives at home, in the hopes that things were changing, and that we were getting closer to being recognized & given the creative respect and environment in which to grow.  On good days, I still believe this.  On bad, I accepted a lot of joshing for being naive.  There are people who I consider good friends who actually cussed me out when they found out that I had an actual U.S. Passport.  

There was even a time at Banff last year when -- mmm... let's see, how do I put this?...let's call it a party with a direct, measurable degree of power over the way the Canadian system runs asked me flat out, with deep incredulity, "if you can work in the USA, why would you ever stay here?"

That question made me sad then. It does now. But it is, unfortunately, like our own Gulf of Mexico Oil Slick. That kind of thinking has permeated the water table and the wetlands and the marshes and the beaches and driven deep down into the shale and the bedrock of the cultural consciousness of this otherwise wonderful nation.   Fighting it has made me very, very tired.  Mr. Blackett, this is why. You're just the latest symptom of the problem.

The L.A. writing life & industry is more than well represented by bloggers, and I won't really have my finger on the pulse of the Canadian scene anymore, so I think it's better to leave you in the capable hands of other observers of same: Prairie Dog Will Dixon and Uncle Jim "Axe to Grind" Henshaw.  There's also Jaime Weinman in Macleans. (I secretly think he's more Canadian scene-curious than he fronts; guy just needs a little push.)  Hopefully, John Doyle might get over whatever's been up his bum for the last little while, too (if we don't lose him to soccer writing, I mean.)

For a dose of your Canadian crafty, may I suggest the redoubtable Alex Epstein? And if you want info on Canadian shows, there's no finer resource than Tv-eh? -- still a one woman, all volunteer shop run by not-connected-to-the-industry-at-all writer/editor Diane Wild.

I might pop in from time to time.  Maybe I'll post a few dirty Haikus about CRTC policy or something.  I honestly have no idea.  I'll also continue to represent my fellow Central Canada WGC members on the Writers Guild of Canada Council, as long as I'm able.  From foreign ownership to value for signal to licenses to copyright, there's still a lot of fights ahead. I won't stop if you won't.

Evolution of a Canadian Creative.
Maybe Brioux will write about me now!.

When I put out a PayPal button earlier this year, I was stunned by the number of people who gave me a donation.  Five bucks here, five there -- and more than one person stepped up way more than that -- giving me the equivalent of the yearly subscription fee to Playback Online.  That is just...crazy.  Not bad for something I dashed off every day.  Thanks, from the bottom of my heart for your support.  You bought me a portable hard drive so I could back up five years worth of my rants. Don't trust the cloud, people. Heh heh.



I've learned a lot, knitted closer to my fellow Canadian creatives, and enjoyed the exchanges I've had here immensely over the last five years.  Even the occasional glimpses into the petty underbelly of the internet has made me a stronger person & a better writer.

(Truth be told, I came very close to packing it in last summer after a couple of weird incidents where I was stalked by people mistaking their online familiarity with my writing for an offline relationship.  More than once, I found a stranger laying in wait so they could yell at me "because I yelled at him every day on your blog."  Uh. Yeah.  Then there were the pests who'd just somehow ... be ... whereever I was.  Sometimes with a camera!)

As Craig Ferguson might say, "I KNOW!!!"

The supportive emails & comments, and the Cuppa Joe donations got me through that patch.  But I have to say with all honesty & humility that the thought of being one more dressed-down writer in a city  teeming with them is tremendously appealing to me right now.   I won't miss being the lightning rod -- even admitting that sometimes, yup, I sought out that role.  I guess at the root of things, I like telling stories a lot.  Being the story, really not so much.

In any case, I'm a big believer in both professional honesty and giving back, which is why as my career gained some steam I tried, whenever possible, to offer a take on industry doings that never seemed to make it into the paper or the trades.  That's also why I tried to make myself available for mentoring & advice to up and coming writers. I don't know how much good that's done, if any, but I encourage each and every one of you to punch through your fear and to speak up for what you believe.  It turns out that the jobs you lose are few, and the fellow travelers you meet quickly become friends. (Most of them anyway; hey, you meet crazies on the subway, too.)  When it comes to the important stuff,  the disagreements we have are better solved in the warmth of the cold light of day. Secrecy, jealousy, and passive aggressive tendencies have not served our industry well. It is time, finally, finally, to try another way.

Look at that. Sermonizing til the end.  Little bit douchey.  Sigh.

This has become the quotational equivalent of using Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah" in your big climactic TV montage.  But it fits, so eff it--

Margaret Mead once said, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."

We're going to have one more post on crafty later today, just cause that's how I'd like to leave it.  So watch for that.

Good Night, from Sticksville…and Good Luck. 

WGC Members: Take Ten Minutes to Help Yourself.

RYERSON UNIVERSITY is in the middle of a very worthy survey -- the first ever -- of Canadian screenwriters.   This is a major research project designed to--

"gather information on the demographic makeup, careers and opinions of Canadian screenwriters. While such studies are regularly undertaken by U.S. Writers Guilds, this survey is the first of its kind in Canada. Results of the survey should provide valuable insight into current working conditions for screenwriters in Canada."

Tired of being mis-identified as a gala-going dilettante? Sure you are.  There is much good that can come out of this survey.  By knowing things like income averages, who's actually working, what TV & Film writers' main complaints are, and also things like how much work is going on in digital...these insights, compiled anonymously by the Research Study Organizers will provide a much-needed resource for everybody from Telefilm to Provincial Arts Agencies to the CMF to anybody who has a vested interest in Canadian culture.

It's hard sometimes to get writers to participate, I know. It's like herding cats. But whether you're somebody who's written three animation scripts or a showrunner with 25 years in the biz, your opinions & data here will help paint a TRUE picture of the state of the Canadian screenwriters' plight.

The survey is open to WGC Members only, and can be accessed by signing into the Members Section of the Writers Guild of Canada Site.

I filled it out last night.  Totally painless. And I'm way busy.  So you have no excuses, mate. It's Easy peasy.  Go. Do it now.

Um.

WELL THAT WAS a hell of a thing.

I get to feel an Earthquake. In Toronto. Ironic.

More on that later.

Oy Vey.

I HAD TO laugh at Jaime Weinman's latest article about the strange zombie-like existence of Til Death (with a tip to a linked article by Todd Vanderwerff, who's almost as astute an observer of the TV as Weinman.)

As VanDerWerff notes, It wasn’t exactly good, but it was some of the strangest material we’ve seen on prime-time TV in the past year, a testament to the weirdness that can arise when the writers have no audience, no job security and nothing to lose.

Yet more proof, Canadian creatives, that WE JUST AREN'T TRYING HARD ENOUGH!

Actually, after reading Vanderwerff's article again, I'm pretty sure that he's stumbled upon a pretty accurate description of what it would feel like to be in TV Writer Hell.

Why The Canadian Media Sucks

IT'S ONE THING to source entertainment stories from U.S. wire copy, and to only report on Canadian talent once the courtly eye of U.S. interest descends upon them, or to not report controversial remarks by a culture minister for more than a day, and to mostly miss the context after that -- but as my friend Howard Bernstein points out, that's small beer.

Our media isn't particularly good at asking the hard questions on real news, either.

From Medium Close Up:

Everybody’s main focus of the coverage of the summits has been the security details, the fences that surround a large portion of downtown Toronto and Huntsville, the street closings and the charges and counter-charges from the protesters and the police about what each of the groups is preparing in order to greet our foreign visitors. There have been the inevitable think pieces and op-ed deconstruction of summits past and what they accomplished. University profs are cashing in pondering the usefulness and possible success or failure of this summit. Heck, Global TV is even doing a story on the legacy of the summit on the Muskoka region, who knew the G-8 was about helping out Ontario’s lagging tourist industry? This may be good public service information but it misses the point for all but a few Canadians who live and work in the fenced off parts of Toronto and Muskoka or are macro-economists and historians.

Canadians want to know about the fake lake, but as a symbol of the money being thrown away. Yes, the fake lake is a national, no international, joke and it truly is a waste of 56,000 dollars but it is such a small part of that waste. I still do not know how the government of Canada is going to spend over a billion dollars to do what the United States did in Pittsburgh last year for $30 million and what the British did two years ago in London, a much more difficult city to secure than Toronto, for a mere $50 million.

It would seem to me that these questions should be the fodder and the lifeblood of everyone who calls him or herself a journalist in Canada. So far we have not seen or heard of any of the investigation and the resulting reportage that I for one, expected from our fourth estate. Until now we’ve got the obvious. Tony Clement’s riding being the recipient of millions of dollars of summit cash for fake summit projects to beautify towns that are nowhere near where the world leaders will be. Mr. Clement won his riding by a mere 38 votes in the last election so Prime Minister Harper is buying him enough votes to get re-elected in the next election. But even that is a drop in the bucket of the over a billion dollars. Do the fences cost that much? Is police overtime the issue? Are the transportation and hotel costs of police from across Canada driving up the cost? Why isn’t the army being used more? I don’t think we have to pay them overtime. Why are the costs more than twenty times more than in London? Where is the money going? Are there partisan political connections to where the dollars are being spent?

These are the kinds of questions Canadians are asking and not getting the answers to. From coast to coast citizens are asking how a government that preaches belt tightening can throw away billions on a five day palaver about the world economy. Yes it is Stephen Harper’s job to explain, but when he doesn’t it is a journalist’s job to poke and pry and get to the bottom of what is all too clearly a boondoggle.

If they can't get the big stuff right, what hope do we who depend upon the puff piece have?

(Did that sound as pretentious and solipsistic as I meant it to? Gosh I hope so.)

[Sharp Intake of Breath] Oooooooh.

YESSSSSS.

Stop The Presses

APPARENTLY, JOURNALISTS ARE making the switch to writing dramatic TV.  It's a trend and everything.  Who knew?  Heh.

Director David Wellington throws out the word, “orpie” (his slang for dialogue that looks good on the page, but will likely sound awkward coming out of an actor’s mouth). Show runner and head writer Tassie Cameron thinks a particular scene could use a “save the cat” moment (in other words, a script device to endear a particular character to viewers). Another writer, Semi Chellas, pipes up that a proposed plot twist is “mutant subtext” (a term she coined to mean something in an episode that seems random).
At the far end of the table, Ellen Vanstone, a long-time journalist and the co-creator of the ABC/Global show Rookie Blue, which debuts on Thursday, listens to the weird lingo with a huge grin on her face. “What I love about scriptwriting,” says the National Magazine Award-winner, “is the jargon and linguistic shortcuts used to get an idea across quickly.”
And it’s precisely the staccato exchange of ideas in this room that persuaded her to join the rush of television and print reporters and editors to TV and film scriptwriting to pay the bills and challenge themselves in a different creative genre.

Long as they get the show & the time right, right kids?  Rookie Blue, Thursday 9pm, ABC/CTV.  Global

Stress Reading

I'M IN A bit of a pickle right now.  Lot of stress, lot of open questions, lot of stuff to do & think about & move & collect & everything.  And of course there's our old friend Mr. Insomnia.  But with that and all I want to call attention to two wonderful books I've been reading in fits & starts when I can. (Both on my Ipad, but I hear you oldies can buy them in hard copy too.)

The first is Kathryn Borel's memoir of an ill-fated wine tour with her difficult father, Corked.

Borel's prose style is easy & conversational, and what starts out feeling like one long overshare winds up being tremendously affecting and wise thoughts on dealing with aging parents, death, and coming to terms with personal responsibility -- the debts we owe others, the hurts we inflict on family, strangers, lovers, and ourselves.  Borel's funny, too.  Wish I got to know her better when I was doing all those Q bits.

And as an added bonus, you get to learn a bit about wine.  How fine.

While the vuvuzelas are still droning, it's nice to read into the context & beauty of The Beautiful Game. I remember so well being in South Africa in 2004 when the Cup was awarded.  On the ground in Cape Town less than two days, jetlagged as hell, and suddenly the whole city went BANANAS with joy.  It was quite something to see.  Then there were the many games of the Euro 2004 tournament that various Scots, English & Africans educated me about during that summer in bars down on the V&A Waterfront.  Come match time you couldn't find a soul on the stroll, even with the pleasant winter sun shining down.  (The kind of sun that still had the South African girls wearing scarves.  Ah. Memories.)

So with that kind of recall, it's a pleasure to read John Doyle's new tome about the meaning of soccer -- The World is a Ball.  Other books about the game I've found dry, too much process. But Doyle's gift is capturing the moment, and putting you among the joyous, raucous, jubilant people.  We all need stories that uplift, these days -- and Doyle's painting of scene after international scene shows the world for the glorious mosaic it can be.  That little ball comes with a whole lot of hope that doesn't necessarily translate into kicks and feints & yellow cards.  But then again, maybe it doesn't have to.

Anyway, that's what I'm reading in ten minute increments here and there when I'm not a twitter and a-worry.  Pick 'em up.

Guest Blog: Rob Wades Into The Shit

I'M STILL UP to my neck in professional & organzational, well, shit -- but further to the below, it looks like the day late & dollar short Canadian media finally caught up to Lindsay Blackett story.  (And Tv, Eh's Diane Wild has a must read eyewitness account that better contextualizes what the guy said.  I still think he misspoke, but there you go.)

Much of my pique, and yeah, it's pique, and sure, maybe it's a bit precious is the frustration that comes from this guy seeming to voice an opinion that is demonstrably false. Yet it IS a millstone that we deal with each and every day.  Last night I was out with my friend Mark, who created Flashpoint with his wife.  There's no arguing that that's the most successful Canadian show going right now. Yet somewhere in Canada, somebody's calling it Shit.  Mark told me a story about being at the airport heading out to Calgary for the Gemini Awards, and people recognizing Enrico Colatoni & Hugh Dillon and it being cool, until the Trailer Park Boys showed up in character and the departure... lounge...went... bananas.  I've seen that myself.  It's great to see. A Canadian show that undoubtedly connects with Canadians, just like Corner Gas did, and there are all sorts of people who'll line up to say it's shit.  We can't have an honest conversation when we have to wade through basic, ill-informed, self-hating douchebaggery like that.  But whatever.

What I really wanted to do was promote this comment from my friend Rob Sheridan.  I think it says what I haven't seen anybody else saying about this thing -- including me.  So take it away, Rob.

 Feels like we're being a little hypocritical jumping on this guy but I'll get to that in a second. The annoying part of what he said, for me, is this whole business of asking "Why aren't broadcasters picking up more Canadian content? Because Canadian content isn't what it should be."

Assuming he's referring to Canadian broadcasters, we all know what's wrong with that argument and why it's ridiculously simplistic. The financial incentives aren't there and they make more money on U.S. programming and they're not investing enough in talent or production because they view Canadian programming as a mandate of their license and little more etc. etc. So laying all the blame on the creatives is obviously a stupid thing to say and he should know that.

But what everyone seems so up in arms about is the "shit" comment. C'mon. This guy's not saying anything I haven't heard nearly every single writer and actor I know say at some point in private, either over drinks, or around the writer's table, or between takes, or at a WGC party. Seriously. It's a national fucking pastime. We all do it.

This show is shit, that movie was shit. Who decided to make that shit? How did that shit get funded? I can't believe that guy keeps getting shows/movies. He's shit. Hey, how's that show you're working on? It's okay, but I'm worried it might be shit. How's that show you created? I don't know yet. I'm hoping I can make it good, but a million things could go wrong, and it could be shit.

Shit is like gravity. Shit is the baseline. We're always trying to do slightly better than shit. Because no matter what country you're in or if you're writing movies or plays or novels or TV shows or albums, it's really, really hard to make something that isn't shit. It requires a lot of time and effort and talent and money and sometimes a couple of those things are in short supply for reasons this dude has clearly chosen to ignore, but that doesn't mean he's wrong.

There's lots of shit out there. Canadian shit. U.S. shit. UK shit (see Stephen Fry's comments at BAFTA). I'm always amazed if I do anything and can look at it when it's all done and go "hey, you know, some of that wasn't shit." There isn't a day goes by when I don't worry that I'm not shit at what I do. I'm sure there are lots of folks who think I'm entirely justified in that.

Is this healthy? Maybe not. Probably it's a better thing to build each other up instead of tearing each other down, and usually after our second cup of coffee or a couple of drinks, when we're feeling more generous we do just that. But would we really be worse off we weren't all at least a little harder on our own shit?

Anyway the guy didn't even say that everything was shit. He said "so much shit." True, when asked for specifics he could only say Heartland which is indeed a little self-serving given that, oh, look, it shoots in his province.

We all know we've made some great television and movies in this country. There are plenty of unbelievably talented, hard-working people working at the top of their game. I won't trot out the titles. The same dozen or so movies and shows tend to come up in these arguments and I agree with them. They're not shit. Not at all.

But we have made a lot of shit, too. As I said off the top, a lot of the reasons for that are beyond our control as creatives, and I totally get why it's infuriating that one of the guys at the top of the funding system doesn't seem to get that. The U.S. have made an awful lot of shit, too. The hit and miss ratio may even be more or less the same, but they get away with it because volume is a lot higher and there's rarely public money involved.

We need more investment of money, not less. But throwing money at it alone isn’t enough. We need to train talent and retain talent and give enough care and incentive so that every gifted writer and actor and director and producer and crew member in this country knows they are surrounded by people who are also the best at what they do, and were given the resources to do it.

We need to make more shows, not fewer, even if it means smaller episode orders with slightly lower budgets. A network that only produces one or two homegrown shows a year is naturally going to want to get their hands all over those shows – they have plenty of time and reason to do so. More shows with less at stake might mean that those networks could back off a bit and allow those shows to breathe a little, be what they are, good or bad. The batting average might end up the same but the better shows are going to have a real voice, and probably a real audience (As Steve Smith used to say about his first pitch meeting with CHCH: "Gimme enough money that I can do something, but not enough that you care what it is.")

More shows also mean more opportunity. For young writers to staff, to grow, to be promoted, to learn about how a TV show gets made. Those people will then hopefully go on to create not-shitty shows of their own one day, as opposed to the current system, where more often than not we hand out development deals to untested writers and then assign experienced showrunners to “story edit” their projects, which generally speaking won’t get made anyway. Because if you’re 23 and you’ve never worked on another person’s show, the show you’re creating has a decent likelihood of being… well, shit.

But even my little farm system-utopia idea won’t make a lick of difference if, when those people are experienced enough to become showrunners, we don’t actually let them run the show. We all know that the word showrunner gets bandied around a lot in Canada, but that we rarely fully embrace the model, so that the showrunner is often reduced to the role of “head writer” and does not, in fact, have final say on the script, the costumes, the editing, the anything, and must instead collate input from all manner of non-writing producers. I’m not talking about collaboration, which is healthy and important, I’m talking about the right to say “no” when it counts.

We all bitch about this. Everyone agrees on it. And we know that on those rare occasions where showrunners actually run the show, the show is often good, and when they don’t, the show is often less good. Sometimes a lot less good. Sometimes even… shit. So what are we up in arms about, exactly?

The problem with this guy is that he sees the symptom but he completely misdiagnoses the disease. Which, given his position, is highly regrettable. But I just don’t think we should be babies about this. Yeah, the bad man said a mean thing. Okay. But really, deep down, we all know his biggest mistake was saying it in public, instead of doing it the only proper, decent way we can respect: Behind our backs.

 Oh so THAT'S how you're supposed to do it?  Well aren't I the king of the douchebags.  Shit.

Thanks Rob.  Seacrest out.

Shit My Crazy Alberta MLA Says

I HAVE HAD roughly eleventy-billion emails from people in the last hour and a half or so asking for my reaction to remarks made by Alberta's Minister of Culture yesterday on a panel at the Banff TV Festival.

Remarkably (or not so, if you follow Canadian media) a Google News search of the minister's remarks a few minutes ago turned up nothing.  That's more than 24 hours after the remark was made.

Nary a word on the Google, more than 24 hrs later. 

If something happens in Canada & the Canadian Media doesn't cover it, are they doing their jobs? Or just waiting for Mary Hart to break the story?

Globe & Mail, CP, nada.  Nobody has covered it.

A friend of mine who works at CBC Radio (which will be going with the story at least locally, soon) forwarded me the clip & script for the soundbite that got people talking.  Here it is:

Some startling remarks made by Alberta's culture minister are creating a bit of a stir.
 Lindsay Blackett was part of a panel at the Banff World Television Festival on Monday.
 The panel included Canadians who've become Hollywood stars -- people like Eric McCormack from the series, "Will and Grace."

 The conversation was meant to discuss an actor's journey from small town Canada to the big leagues of Hollywood.

 But it turned to bashing the quality of Canadian television.

 And Blackett was one of the critics.

 (and we apologize for the quality of this clip)

 in: I sit here
 runs: 23 sec
 out: what it shoudl be
 
<<<<I sit here as a government representative for film and television in the province of Alberta and I look at what we produce ... and if we're honest with ourselves .... I look at it and say why do I produce so much shit? Why do I fund so much crap? Why do we do it? Why are broadcasters not picking up more Canadian content? Because Canadian content isn't what it should be.">>>>
 
 Blackett later backtracked a bit by saying Canadians make great programming -- and he pointed to the CBC program, "Heartland," which is made in Alberta.

That's a helluva clip. Yet it didn't make anybody's news. It showed up NOWHERE until today.

Calgary North MLA Lindsay Blackett. Is it just me,
or should we get this guy partying with Michel Arpin, stat?

This is one piece of the puzzle that serves to answer Mr. Blackett.   Our concentrated, spoon fed, report every last bit of LiLo but none of what happens in our own cultural backyard media, sucks.  To be honest, though I'd dearly love to get further into it, I'm going to hold my fire for a couple of days.

Because I'm in the middle of something that will perhaps serve as another part of the answer to Mr. Blackett.  Not the answer anybody wants to hear, necessarily,  but an answer that should be pretty familiar to anybody who's been paying attention to Canadian Film and Television for the last thirty five or so years.

My favorite part though is that even when the guy backtracks, the only show he comes up with is the one that films in his riding.  Asshat.

Which reminds me...a tiny little bit of  homework.  Brush up on the meaning of this word here. And some of its wider implications.

And if you want a slightly lighter take on this fucked up bullshit from "MLA Who Doesn't Even Realize He's Part of The Problem", may I guide you to  the always amusing Mike's Bloggity Blog. 

Right now, I'm gonna get me a drink and try to wash the stink off.

FOX North? Oooh! Wow! Puh-leeeze.

YOU CAN TELL that they're scraping the barrel for Canadian news (because you can't report too much on the fact that Toronto is already a fucking detention camp because of this stupid G20 meeting, because nobody outside Toronto cares because it's Toronto) by the fact that the ridiculous "Sun TV" "we're bringing right wing news to Canada!" story is getting so much play.

The whole thing is risible, and it's shocking that no one's calling them on it.  Well, there's Brioux, and the slightly less fulminated Howard Bernstein, but like most media stories in the Great White North, this one's being allowed to waft hither and thither without much of a reality check.

As Howard put it:

So far very few right wing media organizations have succeeded in Canada. The National Post can barely give their newspaper away. Alberta Report faded away. Sun Newspapers (owned by Quebecor) have been losing money and laying off staff for two years. So where is the market? It might be the talk radio crowd. They seem to gravitate to the wild right but every poll of their listeners has shown them to be older, lower income and lower educated. Not the crowd that the advertisers are looking for.
The bottom line for me is that the Canadians I know, even the very conservative ones, tend to be more moderate in their ideas and their expectations. In the land of “sorry” I am not sure that media crazies will be a welcome addition. Quebecor’s track record for picking winners in English Canada is a poor one. I expect we are getting our shorts in a knot prematurely.

The fact is that even in Canada's fractured parliamentary landscape, 4 out of 5 parties that people vote for consistently are left of BOTH the Republican and Democratic Parties in the United States.  Break down the, oh, be nice and call it 40% of the populace that would EVER watch this news channel (very few of whom are already watching FOX News -- the channel does hash tags here) and how many are non-old angry white guys who advertisers don't care about?

Brioux busts the Category 1 thing wide open, and points out the inconvenient truth that an effective news channel requires money, which is something that Quebecor is allergic to spending.  Oh, and let's go there again: they have failed at EVERY SINGLE THING they've tried to put on the air in English Canada.

Mondoville also broke down an interesting point that if this was a viable alternative, there's at least five cable channels on the air right now that would have tried it already.

Kory Tendollarshoes is sure entertaining -- and I'd love to see some livening up of news panels & coverage in this country. And lets hope that the spectre of this never gonna hunt dog might do it.

But wow. The day Canadians open their cable bills and read that they have to pay a dollar a month more for a third national all-news channel -- and this one's like FOX news?  Oh man, I'd hate to be manning the phones that day.

This is a supremely silly story.  It's not even 'truthy.'  You'd have to be a brain-dead idiot with no understanding of either the country you live in, the media landscape or the fundamentals of business to even entertain it as a viable notion.  Can we all just stop with the handwringing and move on?

So You Say You Want a Job?

OKAY, IT'S PROBABLY not for the ahhhhtists among you -- and you do need to be a U.S. citizen, and um, CT isn't the most vibrant place, and Stamford's not the most rockin city, but... sod it.

Tell me this doesn't sound fun?