Early in my "professional" career, I wrote a blog called Make The Changes.
In that blog, I argued that it was essential for you make the changes requested by the studio, the distributor, producers, investors, directors, actors, producers' mistresses, etc., after you sell your script. My advice boiled down to two reasons. 1). If you don't make the changes someone else will. Most likely someone without your passion for the material. Therefore, the longer you remain active on the project, the greater your opportunity to mitigate the damage done by thoughtless or stupid changes. 2). Career longevity. I'll never forget something I read on the webpage of a manager who handled screenwriters. It said "Screenwriters have short careers because once they become successful they refuse to make the changes." So true! No producer or director or actor wants to work with a screenwriter who refuses to make any changes.
So I made the changes -- trying to make them as palatable as possible.
Did my philosophy pay off? Tough question.
Looking back, I can say that I am very happy with all of my short films. I made a few comic shorts with friends where I wasn't compelled to make any changes except for budgetary concerns. Additionally, I was commissioned to write a number of true crime short films for the FBI. Those were high stakes projects that went through long approval processes and a number of changes. I am really happy with them, too. The changes were usually reasonable, since my clients and stakeholders were all working toward an agreed and understood purpose. The notes weren't arbitrary or ego driven. They made sense and advanced the project. I am very proud of those films, and some of them actually won Emmys when they ran on the Pentagon Channel.
My feature films, however, are a very mixed bag.
I have written fourteen produced feature films. Only two of them, my first produced feature film 21 Eyes and my documentary Sacred Ground:The Battle For Mount Auburn Cemetery, are truly reflective of my vision as a screenwriter. The rest are incredibly hit and miss. Of the remaining twelve pictures, I only find genuine enjoyment in about five of them. Others came close. Others I watched once and will never watch again.
Despite their low budgets, most of my films were adequately produced and professionally acted. So what was the problem? The scripts. They were twisted and turned until they became bent and broken -- in my opinion. Characters became inconsistent. Unmotivated actions and relationships arose. Themes were lost. Plot threads were abandoned. I actually found some of my films painful to watch. Ironically, I had helped make some of those destructive changes, out of fear that the scripts would become even worse if I walked away. Maybe I was right. Maybe I was wrong. And maybe I'm being too hard on my films. Even the "worst" pictures have fans. Then again, those fans will never know how much better the films could have been.
So do I stand by my original advice to make the changes? Yes, I do. Once you sell your script, you should make the changes for the reasons I articulated. However, you will avoid less soul-searching as a writer if you avail yourself of the power to say no.
Some screenwriters, particularly aspiring ones, feel frustrated by the power that producers and directors have to say no to them. The power to say no can be very daunting. For a professional feature film to be produced, a long line of people have to say yes. Yet one person can kill it with a no.
To make matters worse, the default answer to every query is no. Before that famous producer or director reads your script, it gets filtered through a reader or assistant. They are instinctively inclined to say no. They dread walking into the office on Monday morning to receive an angry rant from their boss about the time they wasted on that piece of shit script they recommended. Nope. It's easier to pass on what could be next year's blockbuster than risk another soul-crushing lecture. After all, chances are the boss will never remember that the hit was ever offered to their company in the first place.
Yes, as screenwriters we have to wade through a sea of nos to find that yes. However, many of us forget that we have the power to say no too!
Trust me, I know how hard it is to say no to someone who says they want to produce your script, but your yes should never be automatic. In fact, I wish I had the courage of some younger writers I have come across.
An unproduced screenwriter asked me about an offer she received on one of her scripts. She was obviously excited. She wanted a little advice before she said yes. My first question was whether the company had made any other films. Her answer was yes. I asked if she watched any of them. Another yes. I asked what she thought? She said they were bad but she blamed the scripts. I asked her what made her think the scripts were bad? Perhaps they were originally good, but they were very badly executed or rewritten. You can't always judge the script itself by the final film. You can only judge the film by the film. If you don't like a company's films, perhaps you shouldn't trust them with your baby. She thought about it and turned down the offer. That took some courage! Now that same script is being optioned by a production company that has made some wonderful pictures. She exercised her power to say no and she is being rewarded for it.
Another unproduced writer I know had an even more difficult choice. An established production company expressed interest in his script, which had done well in some writing contests. He wasn't necessarily enamored with their previous work, but he found it adequate. To him, the question was more career driven. He wanted to become a professional screenwriter. To quit his day job, he needed another source of health insurance. Therefore, it was essential for him to become a member of the Writers Guild of America. He knew the company had worked with the union previously, but they didn't want to go union with this project. He asked me what I thought. I told him to be straightforward with them. He did. They refused, so he walked away. Wow. More power to him!
I think my career as a screenwriter would have been much happier if I possessed the wisdom of those two young screenwriters.. My most disastrous experiences happened on assignments. I could have just said no. Deep down, I knew some of those mostly ego-driven concepts were doomed from the start. I realized they weren't going to be creatively, intellectually or spiritually satisfying. I took the assignments as creative challenges. Or out of friendship. Or as pay checks. So maybe I deserved what I got.
The screenwriter Rita Mae Brown once said, "You sell a screenplay like you sell a car. If someone drives it off a cliff, that’s it."
She's right. That's their prerogative. That's why I recommend that you make the changes when you sell your screenplay or take an assignment. Perhaps you can help the owners avoid the cliff. Sometimes you will, sometimes you won't.
However, you can avoid the cliff altogether if you exercise your power to say no first.
Don't be so anxious to sign on the dotted line.
Talk with the buyer. Find out what excited them about your script. And, more importantly, ask them what they think has to be improved. If you ask enough questions, you'll find it much easier to say yes -- or no.
Chapel Street - Prologue - My Mother
Chapel Street - Chapter 1 - RestingPlace.com
Chapel Street - Chapter 2 - Elisabetta
Chapel Street - Chapter 3 - The Upload
Chapel Street - Chapter 4 - The Kobayashi Maru
Let's stay in touch:
No comments:
Post a Comment