The Boomerang Effect

This week I went to a function at the Beverly Hills Hotel called The American Spirit Award that was organized by The Caucus for Producers, Writers and Directors.  The goal was to “honor a Democrat, Republican and Civilian that exhibits the American Spirit in supporting the Entertainment Industry.”  Senator Byron Dorgan, Lionel Chetwynd and LeVar Burton were the award recipients.

It was a small event, only about a hundred or so people.  Of them, the leaders of major industry unions such as the DGA, PGA, WGA, SAG and AFTRA were present.  I was invited because when I was a student The Caucus Foundation granted me a very generous award to finish my thesis film.  Their financial support was invaluable to my film.

But being invited to events such as this is very important as well.  These events allow me to get a different perspective, get me mingling with people I would not otherwise meet and give me insight to the inner workings of my industry.

There are lots of programs out there that support filmmakers.  Seek out the good ones and apply to whatever you can.  I apply to the same programs year after year, making a habit of it so it’s not personal.  I sink my heart into the application, apply, and then forget about it.  If it comes back to me it’s nothing but a wonderful surprise.

This dinner I was at, mingling with the old guard, learning about the new issues and challenges of our industry, was a great experience that I never would have had access to had I not filled out a simple application form available to tons of other students.  Hollywood is a crazy place.  You never know from day to day where you’re going to end up but if you don’t throw yourself in your options will definitely be more limited.

The MPAA and me

This week, during yet more rewrites, one script reader commented on the fact that we might be close to a PG-13 rating and may want to consider toning back some of the language.  It occurred to me that I didn’t really know what the distinction is between a PG-13 or R rating.  So I found out.

Having seen This Film Is Not Yet Rated, a pretty blah but much hyped documentary about the MPAA, I wasn’t exactly eager to get my name on any super secret list they may be compiling over there.  (Don’t you love how in my egotistical little world I think they give a crap about what I’m up to?)

Anyway.  I started online.  I checked out the MPAA website and did the obvious google searches.  But the info I found was at best vague and at worst totally unreliable.  Nothing like those parent groups, eh?  Even the MPAA’s own website seemed cryptic “The Rating Board nevertheless may rate such a motion picture PG-13 if, based on a special vote by a two-thirds majority, the Raters feel that most American parents would believe that a PG-13 rating is appropriate because of the context or manner in which the words are used or because the use of those words in the motion picture is inconspicuous.”  Creeeeepy.

So I got over feeling special and called them.  First thing?  They were super nice.  I was surprised.  They are actually, like, human over there.  I always imagined a few tight-lipped men, women and robots sitting around in tailored suits and corsets pushing buttons that drop filmmakers through floorboards to hidden lions waiting hungrily beneath.  Nope, they were human.  Well, at least the front man I spoke to.  He was even pretty funny too.

So here was my question – How many fv*ks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?  So naughty!  Actually, I wanted to know what the guidelines were for language in terms of what would pass for PG-13 and what crosses the line in to R territory.

The answer I got was this… One fv*k, used non-sexually, can be PG-13.  Two non-sexual fv*ks or a single sexual fv*k gets you an automatic R.  As a side note, and not that I was asking, but apparently any use of c**ksv*ker or m*therfv*ker sends you straight to R.  (I have to say this was the most swearing I’d ever heard in the first two minutes of conversation with a complete stranger and it was cracking me up!)

Here’s something else, dick could get you anything from a G to an X depending on it’s exact usage and bitch is a pretty flexible one as well.

My helpful MPAA dude even mentioned that he doesn’t agree with all of the boundaries but when he once made the case for change he was told to answer the complaints line for a bit.  That sorted him out.

Apparently, one of the biggest call getters of all time was Titanic. Why?  No idea.  Because it was offensively lame?  Nope.  It was the sketch of the woman’s breast that was the culprit!

Now of course this movie would have more callers to begin with because it had more audience than most films.  It also most likely had more audience members who don’t go to movies that often so aren’t exactly in the mix of pop culture.  And finally, it probably had more people going in groups and therefore feeling the pressure to be absolutely, utterly and very vocally offended!  But, even after weeding out all the people who haven’t had sex in the last decade and couldn’t deal with that tickly feeling that the drawing may have induced, this is still pretty interesting because it is a reflection of our values as a culture.  And this is a big country.

So do I agree with them?  No.  For example, I take no offense at seeing the human body doing what’s it naturally built to do, but I do find violence pretty upsetting.  Clearly I’m out of sync with America on that one.

And does this mean I’m going to change my script?  Again, no.  We crossed the R line on about page four.  None of it feels gratuitous and it all works in the script so I hope my new friend at the MPAA is ready to take some calls on my behalf!

Preparing to Shoot (Part 1 of 3?)

Since this week was pretty much all rewrites for me again I thought I’d jump forward to some other stuff – getting ready to shoot!

But I want to preface this with something.  There really is no right answer to any of this stuff and each person has their own way that works for them.  That applies to all of my blogs.  This is just what I do.  And I’m not even going to know if I’m right about half this stuff for another few years when it either pays off or I fall on my ass.  Fun for all!  So.  Disclaimer now aside, here’s what I like to do…

Once I’ve locked the script (which is in and of itself no small feat) I’m now in the place to really start getting my movie made.  What follows is a sort of outline for how I crystallize and prepare to communicate my overall “vision.”  (I use that word as unpretentiously as possible.)

-       First impressions.  Before I do any technical breakdown of the script I go through and write down all of my first impressions.  Lots of it will change, but it’s always good to record what I initially imagined, responded to, liked or worried about the material.  This could be anything - scribbles on the side of the script, lists of ideas, sketches of shots, references that came to mind, etc.

-       Script breakdown.  There are any number of ways to do this, but I usually fall back on a mish-mash of two methods I’ve learned.  I take bits and pieces from The Practical Aesthetics of David Mamet I studied at NYU that focuses on finding actionable directions from source material – very handy for working with actors - and Bruce Block’s techniques I learned at USC that breaks down a script from a primarily visual aspect.  (If you want to geek out, here are links to the books on Amazon – A Practical Handbook for the Actor & The Visual Story.  The first one is written for actors and I haven’t read it in years, but what I do remember from it I find really useful as a director.  The second one, I will caution, can get quickly overwhelming.  It’s uber-cerebral.)

I believe everything should originate from the script.  Style, pace, format, tone, all the things that a director brings to a project should be determined by the original material.  I don’t mean a slavish literalness or a refusal to change something that’s not working, but I just don’t get it when I see a body of a director’s work and it all looks the same.  To me, they didn’t do their job.  Each project should be a discovery so that every film has it’s own unique language.  Of course, a director’s personality will always shine through, it’s unavoidable, and certainly the industry places tons of pressure on a person to do what they’ve done before, but I see no point just creating multiple monuments to yourself project after project.  How boring.  This is also why I prefer to work on material that I didn’t write, but that’s a blog for another day.

-       Music.  I like to find music that speaks to me about the film (not the soundtrack exactly because I don’t want to fall in love with anything this early on or my composer will kill me later, but music that helps me focus on the tone, pace, or other element of the film).  This becomes useful when I need to communicate a mood I’m trying to achieve.  Rather than saying to my DP or Production Designer “I’m trying to communicate the feeling of exuberance” it’s much more exciting to play a piece of music.  Besides, do I mean Steve Reich exuberance or Manu Chao exuberance? I make a cd and hand it out to whomever I need to.

-       Tears.  (As in, from a magazine not falling down cheeks.) I’ll find some images that express my interpretation of the script – this can be from a museum, art books, magazines, online, family albums, science journals, anywhere.  It doesn’t need to be “important” or expensive it just has to help communicate what’s in my head.  The images could speak to color, tone, content, lighting, feeling, whatever. I’ll pop it all in a book or binder for reference.  Sometimes I’ll even make individual copies for all of the department heads.

-       Treatment.  Once I’m clear on what I’m doing I’ll write a short one or two page treatment. (I think I picked this up from working in music videos and commercials but I like this process to help focus my thoughts.)

The thing I like about having a process to rely on is that going through the stages actually helps me discover things about the material and find a unique style for each script that I might not come to if I only executed whims and impulses.  Of course, there’s absolutely room for whims and impulses within my system, but the system itself helps to ensure they are all serving the same purpose.

Essentially, all of this work represents variations on one question that I ask myself repeatedly in a million different ways over the course of a production – what is the film I am making?  It’s the only thing the director has to know better than anyone else.

Screenplay Rewrites

Rewrites, rewrites, rewrites.  They make my stomache turn.  In a good, roller-coastery sort of way, but turn just the same.

And here’s why - It’s all about the script.  Everything.  Particularly in little fish land where you don’t have the money to hide a shitty script behind big stars, special effects or huge action sequences that you can cut into a slick trailer and trick people into making all of your money back in the first weekend before they tell their friends how crapilicious it is. 

A good script can make or break you.  And make your struggle of getting your film made that much easier or more difficult.  (Not to mention determine whether or not you get to make a second one.)

For example, if you hand a script to an actor and he loves it you could have an attachment that could in turn secure your finance.  You send a brilliant script around town, you may not get an agent right away but if you know how to use buzz properly (which you better know how to do in this town) you could hardly be in a better spot.  And even in production, if people love the script they’re making they will work that much harder for you.  And the obvious of course – no one ever really wants to have their name on a stinker.

Now if you’re a big production company with a development team you’ve got lots of scripts “in development” and lots of people working towards making them as good as they can be.  Not true when you’re a one or two man band.  The little guy is gambling everything on one or two projects because there are unfortunately only 24 hours in a day and a limit to what one person can do.  So those projects must be right.   Or at least as right as you can possibly make them.

This week I got a new draft from my writer of the script we’re trying to deliver by the end of this week.  It’s not quite there yet but we’re getting close.  Really close.  Excitingly close.  Up-side-down loop-to-loop kind of close.  No way to tell which way it’ll actually go, you never really can tell, but I’m doing whatever I can to push it in the right direction.

This is the reason I am still awake at 11pm ichatting with my writer half way around the world.  When you get on a roll it’s so much fun!  And, as I’m hopefully going to find out in the next few days, can turn out great results.

The thing about rewrites is that they are the cheapest place to make mistakes and changes.  None of which has to be done publicly.

So you know that slightly nauseous feeling you get when you read a script and think, very very quietly to yourself, “F*ck if I make the change I think needs to be made it’s going to take weeks to work out the domino effects.”   Ignore that voice at your peril.  Embrace the rewrite.  It only gets harder to fix things the further along the road you go.  And much more public.