First off, thanks to Kevin Drum for saying this was one of the three funniest blogs he reads on a regular basis. If only I'd written one damn funny thing recently for all the minions who flooded here. I'll toss up a link to Crazification Factor to amuse them, and now dive back into the film geekery.
We're still casting, which entails an awful lot parsing out the reality-shift between what agents say ("She read the script and loved it") and reality ("She intends on maybe reading the script, or at least her parts of it, as soon as you declare your intent to provide many, many filthy American monies.")
This hierarchy of casting -- offer only, offer dependent on a meeting, meeting, audition. etc. -- is one of the many oddly codifed status systems in Hollywood, somehow both rigorous and undefinable. It is dedicated to maintaining egos and power balance for all parties involved.
Actors start at the bottom: auditioning for the casting director, who then passes you up the line to an audition with the producers. A small mark of your status as an actor is that you will agree to read, but for the producers. Then, a finer shade is a only meeting with the director/producer, but then, hey, you're a nice guy, you'll read just to see how it goes, wink wink. When you're bigger you'll go for a meeting only when there's an offer on the table, with one or both parties then given the option to bail depending on how the meeting went.
Finally there's "offer only". You're guaranteed the part at price X, you make the call once you've read the script. If you say "yes", we live with you, for better or worse, never having seen you read the words. That ... can be stressful.
This system can then be modulated in order to tune the social dynamic. I once had an actor come in whom I certainly didn't need to read for the part, but in order to show his enthusiasm for the project he brought in prepared text to audition with. He moved himself subtly down the ladder in order to change the dynamic with me as the director. Agents will try to get you to agree to a meeting instead of an audition so they can crow to their client about how they've advanced within the caste system thanks to the agent's canny skills.
Casting also means that I spent a bit of time breaking out sides from the script. When actors audition, they rarely get the whole script (this is changing, with the advent of PDF's and online script services.) Also, when we cast a wide net on a character, we'll see 20-30 actors a day. Got to keep those reads short to be reasonable.
So we pull out five odd pages of dialogue and scenes for each character, which the actor reads when he comes in to audition. This material is tricky -- we usually don't want it to be just one scene, we want to get a sense of how the actor can lay into the different shades a character will present in the show. I'll often take few minutes to rewrite some of the material, so each character gets a titch more material in each representative set of sides.
These pre-production days are when we hire the various humans who actually make television, as opposed to those of us who just make shit up for actors to pretend.
Our Production Designer is already off in Chicago, looking for locations. Thank God for the web, in these situations. She's set up a secure web page where she posts photos of all the locations she's found. We can then review the shoot possibilities while still handling the LA-based responsibilities before the actual shoot. Our Director of Photography has arrived and is reviewing the storyboards, consulting with Dean about directing choices, and is assembling what's known as the camera package. This is the camera/lighting equipment rented from the big camera companies on a production-by-production basis. That way you don't have pricey cameras sitting around depreciating, you didn't waste money on cameras you don't need for a specific gig, and you can always get the newest shiniest tech. For those few who read this blog and aren't aware, a DP is the person who's the camera expert, whose knowledge of lighting, lens and film stock (or digital limitations), not to mention shot composition, define the look of a movie or TV show. Many Directors are fairly knowledgeable in this respect, but keeping up on the tech is brutal, not to mention the fact that a Director has a thousand other responsibilities per minute on a shoot.
Essentially, as a Director I can say how I want to move the camera -- "Start low, then crane up to reveal the car." I can describe how I want that to look, the tone, etc. "That chromed-out Private Ryan feel." Whatever absolutely insane shit I want to see on my monitor. But it's the DP who figures out how to move the camera, what camera lens and what lighting will actually match the vision I've described. They'll often frame the shot, too, based on their decades of experience. To be blunt, it is one of the purest amalgamations of technical expertise and artistic vision in the industry.
Or, shorter version, as it was explained to me on my first gig: "The DP is the guy who leans over and whispers to the Director, '... yoooou don't want to do that.' "
I spent a chunk of yesterday meeting with the 1st AD (Assistant Director). The 1st AD is the brain/spine interface on a set. First, the AD breaks down the script into boards. This is a list of all the scenes in the movie with the associated sets. He then orders them into the most efficient shooting schedule. "We have five scenes in the Hotel Bar. Let us shoot them all in a row, on the same day. This would bring us much pleasure." Then he arranges the shooting schedule based on these boards, coordinates all actor schedules, tech arrangements, staff requirements ... everything. Everything. When the Director is looking at the shot through the monitor, the 1st AD is making sure everything and everyone is in place (and quiet) for this shot. He's also anticipating the lighting change for the next shot, tracking down which talent and equipment will be necessary for that, figuring out how best to take advantage of the spare minutes while the camera isn't rolling, mentally changing the next day's schedule based on whether you're making your shots for this day, coming up with Plans B through Q just in case one of a thousand things goes wrong ... good 1st AD's are notoriously unflappable savants. They run the set.
Today we reviewed the video inserts. Every time -- every single stinking insignificant time -- you see something on a video screen on a TV show, that screen is built by a graphic designer, who then has to animate it to create the illusion of actual functioning software, cameras, whatever. Each shot then has to coordinate visually with its function in the script. For a heist show, it's a bit tricky. For Global Frequency, of course, it nearly frikkin' killed us.
The above folk are just a few of the dozens of people -- all of them far smarter than I -- necessary for delivering a television pilot unto network humans. Setting aside the image you have in your head of actors and directors, or maybe all the lawyers and agents wrestling with legal contracts measured by the pound, the shoot itself is surprisingly ... heavy-machinery oriented. For the uninitiated. you've got actors and directors working on making their little moments under heavy lights being watched by heavy cameras running on yards of metal tracking among false walls that are often rebuilt multiple times in a day. We need trucks, construction crews, and technical experts for most of the equipment. There's a lot of hammering, spot-welding and jigsawing going on while we "make art."
The example I always use: filming is like building a house in a week while crazy people run around inside the construction site.
All this, again, for both the best show you've ever seen, and the crappiest, dinkiest little show you've ever seen.
By the way, this is why I always chuckle when I read pundits slamming Hollywood types as "unserious" or "lightweights." Every TV episode and movie is a 14 hour-a-day contracting job spot-welded to a start-up advertising agency, trying to accomplish the Big Project under brutal deadlines, worth tens of millions of dollars in competition with other ten to a hundred million dollar competing projects. It is ruthlessly capitalistic without any of the clarifying efficiencies of a pure marketplace. Most academic think tank writers and guys whose Mommy got them every job they've ever had (cough Goldberg cough) wouldn't last thirty goddam seconds in "La La Land."
When we next meet, we'll discuss why the hell we're shooting the pilot in Chicago. Ask any questions in the Comments, I'll get to them when I can.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
KARNAK TRIUMPHANT!!
From the New York Times:
No, no, do not fear my powers. I will use them only for good.
Six months, kids.General Petraeus, whose long-awaited testimony before Congress will begin Monday, has informed President Bush that troop cuts may begin in mid-December, with the withdrawal of one of the 20 American combat brigades in Iraq, about 4,000 troops. By August, the American force in Iraq would be down to 15 combat brigades, the force level before Mr. Bush’s troop reinforcement plan.
The precise timing of such reductions, which would leave about 130,000 troops in Iraq, could vary, depending on conditions in the country. But the general has also said that it is too soon to present recommendations on reducing American forces below that level because the situation in Iraq is in flux. He has suggested that he wait until March (bold mine) to outline proposals on that question.
No, no, do not fear my powers. I will use them only for good.
The Amazing Karnak ...
In transit, so just a brief bit of magnificent prognostication:
"Six months."
riiiiiip
"How long General Petreaus says we need to stay in Iraq to capitalize on the (yeah so every actual verifiable statistic disagrees with us, but we've got super-secret info so classified we can't show you the numbers or the bullshit methodology) 'gains' from the surge, after which some troops may be withdrawn, which only accidentally coincides with the time that we need to reduce troop size anyway in order to avoid total collapse of the American military."
Six months, then re-evaluate. BANK ON IT, baby.
Thank you. Thank you. Another?
"Reel Tuff Kwestchuns."
rriiiippp
"What the General will face when he goes on Fox News for an exclusive one hour special right after his Congressional testimony, thereby proving there's no sort of public spin operation in place."
Is there someone here with a dead loved one whose name began with "J"? I sense he or she died from a disease that begins with a "C"...
Kevin Drum gets all War Nerd, and does a fine bit of prognosticating here. I'm just going to lie down with a cold rag on my goddam head.
"Six months."
riiiiiip
"How long General Petreaus says we need to stay in Iraq to capitalize on the (yeah so every actual verifiable statistic disagrees with us, but we've got super-secret info so classified we can't show you the numbers or the bullshit methodology) 'gains' from the surge, after which some troops may be withdrawn, which only accidentally coincides with the time that we need to reduce troop size anyway in order to avoid total collapse of the American military."
Six months, then re-evaluate. BANK ON IT, baby.
Thank you. Thank you. Another?
"Reel Tuff Kwestchuns."
rriiiippp
"What the General will face when he goes on Fox News for an exclusive one hour special right after his Congressional testimony, thereby proving there's no sort of public spin operation in place."
Is there someone here with a dead loved one whose name began with "J"? I sense he or she died from a disease that begins with a "C"...
Kevin Drum gets all War Nerd, and does a fine bit of prognosticating here. I'm just going to lie down with a cold rag on my goddam head.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Endorsement for Jeff Kleeman
Over at Craig's joint, he's endorsing an off-slate candidate for the WGAw board, one Jeff Kleeman. Jeff had the mad temerity to run against the Writer's United slate, and then got smacked around for it. Smacked around as if he had no right to run. Craig explains some of the (magnificently tedious) internal politics involved in the above referenced post.
In a word, this attitude is bullshit. What Jeff brings to the table is experience on the other side of the business end, as a studio exec and producer. This is a good thing. More arrows in the strategic quiver during what will certainly be one of the most important contract negotiations in the entire career of most screenwriters working now. I've worked with Jeff on a movie, talked an inordinate amount of business with him, and he's one of those guys who's so smart he constantly reminds me that I am pretty much faking any business savvy I picked up in the last 12 years. He is terrifyingly well-informed about the legal/contract side, and experienced in many aspects of the production business. Oh, and he's a pretty spiffy writer. I wanted to be one of the people officially endorsing Jeff, but I'm WGA East, so I was ineligible.
Which leads us to the other article at Craig's -- about possibly merging Writer's Guild East and West. I know I can and should switch, but the point that I have to has always irked me. I wrote television and movies in New York, and now that I write television and movies based out of LA, I need to fork over a couple grand in "processing fees"? This is an anachronism well past its due date, and I hope we'll move toward a merger soon.
All that aside, although I cannot officially endorse Jeff Kleeman as a member of his guild, I can certainly put in my two cents and say that I'd want him riding point on any assault against the suits in which I might be involved.
WGAw brethren and sistren, Vote Jeff Kleeman for the Board.
In a word, this attitude is bullshit. What Jeff brings to the table is experience on the other side of the business end, as a studio exec and producer. This is a good thing. More arrows in the strategic quiver during what will certainly be one of the most important contract negotiations in the entire career of most screenwriters working now. I've worked with Jeff on a movie, talked an inordinate amount of business with him, and he's one of those guys who's so smart he constantly reminds me that I am pretty much faking any business savvy I picked up in the last 12 years. He is terrifyingly well-informed about the legal/contract side, and experienced in many aspects of the production business. Oh, and he's a pretty spiffy writer. I wanted to be one of the people officially endorsing Jeff, but I'm WGA East, so I was ineligible.
Which leads us to the other article at Craig's -- about possibly merging Writer's Guild East and West. I know I can and should switch, but the point that I have to has always irked me. I wrote television and movies in New York, and now that I write television and movies based out of LA, I need to fork over a couple grand in "processing fees"? This is an anachronism well past its due date, and I hope we'll move toward a merger soon.
All that aside, although I cannot officially endorse Jeff Kleeman as a member of his guild, I can certainly put in my two cents and say that I'd want him riding point on any assault against the suits in which I might be involved.
WGAw brethren and sistren, Vote Jeff Kleeman for the Board.
Pre-Production Day 6-8 (edited)
Casting. Which is, of course, the one thing I CAN'T post about while we're doing it.
"We love her. She's who we had in mind for the part all along."
"According to John's blog, you were really frustrated you got turned down by three other actresses first."
" ... could you hold on a minute?"
And the bloody Cavemen parody video, which substitutes "Black Men" every time they say "Cave Men", has been yanked, so there goes posting Plan B. I have not seen the recut pilot, but I will say the ambush of the writers at the TCA based on the original pilot was ... um,
EDIT: You know what, I think I crossed a line here, in that the dialogue I quoted was probably cut from the broadcast pilot, The show's apparently been heavily recut, and although I will stick by my opinion that the original version was ... thoughtless, I don't think I should slam anything not broadcast yet. I will leave intact, however, my conversation with Tyrone
John: What's the premise?
Tyrone: It's a new look at racism.
John: I didn't know we were done with old racism yet.
Tyrone: It's the perfect network show. A way to do a television show about the black experience in America without all those pesky black people.
All this to say, by the way, there are some really good actors in this thing, and they are swinging, man, just chopping wood as hard as they can.
"We love her. She's who we had in mind for the part all along."
"According to John's blog, you were really frustrated you got turned down by three other actresses first."
" ... could you hold on a minute?"
And the bloody Cavemen parody video, which substitutes "Black Men" every time they say "Cave Men", has been yanked, so there goes posting Plan B. I have not seen the recut pilot, but I will say the ambush of the writers at the TCA based on the original pilot was ... um,
EDIT: You know what, I think I crossed a line here, in that the dialogue I quoted was probably cut from the broadcast pilot, The show's apparently been heavily recut, and although I will stick by my opinion that the original version was ... thoughtless, I don't think I should slam anything not broadcast yet. I will leave intact, however, my conversation with Tyrone
John: What's the premise?
Tyrone: It's a new look at racism.
John: I didn't know we were done with old racism yet.
Tyrone: It's the perfect network show. A way to do a television show about the black experience in America without all those pesky black people.
All this to say, by the way, there are some really good actors in this thing, and they are swinging, man, just chopping wood as hard as they can.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Slings and Arrows and fantasy heists
Way too wired for sleep on Friday night, I watch Season 3 of Slings & Arrows. The final performance of Lear in the series makes me cry, and you see maybe five minutes of it. Damn. Ultimately I don't find the third series as enjoyable as the first two, but it's still the best show about life performance I've ever seen. The fact William Hutt plays a dying actor doing Lear, so close to his own death ... again -- damn.
To decompress, reading The Lies of Locke Lamora. The reviews on this are strong, and deservedly so. I don't read a lot of fantasy literature -- make that "practically none -- but the tone of this thing is a delight. Think Medici Venice with some magic, a few molten glass towers, and now add a genuinely engaging heist story in the middle of it. That's right, it's really a dead solidly plotted con/crime story that happens to be set in a fantasy novel. No "thous", "forsooths", or fucking elves. Just a lightning-fast story of cutpurses, false priests, spies, rebels, and complicated financial scams set in one of the most fully, grittily realized "other places" I've read in a while. Mieville meets Thomas Crown, with slightly fewer bug-faced aliens and giant rib cages. Definitely recommended.
To decompress, reading The Lies of Locke Lamora. The reviews on this are strong, and deservedly so. I don't read a lot of fantasy literature -- make that "practically none -- but the tone of this thing is a delight. Think Medici Venice with some magic, a few molten glass towers, and now add a genuinely engaging heist story in the middle of it. That's right, it's really a dead solidly plotted con/crime story that happens to be set in a fantasy novel. No "thous", "forsooths", or fucking elves. Just a lightning-fast story of cutpurses, false priests, spies, rebels, and complicated financial scams set in one of the most fully, grittily realized "other places" I've read in a while. Mieville meets Thomas Crown, with slightly fewer bug-faced aliens and giant rib cages. Definitely recommended.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Pre-Production Days 3-5
Day 3: This was a light day, at least for me as my responsibilities are still limited to script, casting, and creative decisions. The morning consisted of meeting with our Casting Director. For those of you who don't know, the Casting Director both submits ideas and lists of actors they feel are appropriate for the part -- to guide you -- and handles the contractual aspect of casting. They also "check avail" on actors who you're already considering for the part.
"I love this actor --"
"Not available. Movie until November."
They must maintain a frighteningly encyclopedic command of this knowledge. Our Casting Director is sent off to check avails on the lead actor choices Dean will present to the network tomorrow.
Now, for some roles, you hold auditions. For many roles you do so. But TNT is in a pretty good place right now, batting a solid .750 on new series both ratings-wise and creatively. That means we can go after some bigger fish, make offers and see how that falls out. It's worth noting that while we're in a good spot, the dirty secret of most network television is that the actors you see in the lead roles in your favorite shows were almost certainly never the actor the writer had in mind when writing the role, and often not the actor the writer and director actually originally wanted for the role. The actor is often a compromise between writer, director, studio and network. As I've said before we're in a nice situation here as the studio is a guy, who's also directing, and our network humans are pretty damn cool.
However, there are usually are multiple stages of auditions. The Casting Director and his minions often screen the first level, looking for some lucky unknown finds and weeding out the mismatches. Then the writer and director get to watch auditions for a couple hours a day for a week or two. The top choices from that go to studio. Often those auditions are held in a really creatively stimulating conference room. The actors the studio fall behind are then brought to network. I've been in rooms where after the network auditions everyone nods and says "WE LOVE HER! We have discovered an unknown new talent! Hallelujah!", and I've been in auditions where we all look at each other and sigh "I guess we have to pick one, eh?"
Why not wait forever for the perfect casting? Well, you can do that for features -- my movie's swung back to March because I have an offer out to an actor who's not available until then. But TV is still driven by what the network needs for its strategy this year, and if your pilot fits, then you need to get it up and running, or odds are it will fall through the cracks next cycle. This is insane, horrible, and wasteful, of course, and many wonderful TV shows die and are never brought back for, frankly, no goddam good reason.
There's also the fact that there are just a shitload of pilots being made every pilot season, and anyone who's halfway decent in an audition -- who's gotten their career to the point where they can get in the room -- is a hot commodity. I have the '08 Fall pilot breakdowns right here ... ah. Roughly 110 pilot scripts in development currently. And this is early times yet. Certainly not all will go to pilot, but plenty will, and then you also have to take into account that during Fall development many actors are working on shows for short arcs. So, even though they're not committed for when your show will actually be on the air, even though the actor you want for second lead is free as a bird for when you'll actually be shooting the series, you cannot get him for the pilot because he's busy being Cylon #7 for the next three Battlestar Galacticas.
As I said -- horrible system. The pilot process is both structurally flawed and utterly fails to produce results statistically better than random show generation. The process deserves to die, and quickly. But Hollywood's a big boat, and she turns slow.
And, to be blunt, the odds of getting all five dream actors you want for the leads/ensemble (assuming the writer, director and producers all miraculously agree on the "dream") to coordinate their schedules is thin indeed.
Oh, as I said, a light day for me, perhaps, but our physical production unit, however, is going absolutely 150 mph trying to nail down a shooting location. They are busy calling people, seeing how many crews are available in different cities, checking locations compared to the script, and comparing financial models. I keep one eye on this stuff from a distance but, frankly, all I'm going to do is slow them down. The key to being an executive producer is knowing when to stay the hell out of the way. Literally everyone on a TV or film crew is usually more experienced than you are as a writer. After all, most of your scripts never get shot. They shoot episodes/movies every week.
Afternoon was reviewing the first script notes, making script adjustments for physical production constraints ("Can we do these two scenes in one location to save a bit of time and money?"), waiting for casting feedback and developing alternate ideas if avails crap out on us.
Day 4: Final script notes with the director, and refining (and redefining) the casting lists based on Casting Director feedback on avails, and some late-moment inspiration. I meet he Production Designer, whose job it is to design the entire "look" of the show, from physical construction of the sets through the fine points of color scheme, tech level, general visual vibe... A pilot is supposed to be representative of what you'll see every week, so whatever the Production Designer comes up with, you'll probably be living with that visual tone for the entire run of the series.
Also some more discussion on where to shoot the damn thing. In four weeks. I'm going to lie down now.
Day 5: For the morning, Chris and I work at his office and finish up all the notes. That draft, which will become our locked Final White Draft, is emailed off to the studio. The scenes will be numbered so the script can be prepped for breakdown -- that is, so you know exactly what will be shot where and in what order. All revisions after this will be on a page-by-page basis, and the new pages will be on different-colored paper. That is, if we change three lines on page 45, an entirely new page 45 will be issued with the changed lines asterisked on the right hand margin. Furthermore, this revision is printed on a different-colored paper stock so you can just rip out the old page 45, insert the new one, and be assured that you have the latest revision. This is why, on a set, you will hear "Did you get the blue pages?"
Afternoon was a final conference call between writers, studio and network, now that the network's seen our ideas, to further discuss casting choices for all five lead roles. We then nail down a rough strategy for Week Two, and discuss some of the camera tech we may use.
"I love this actor --"
"Not available. Movie until November."
They must maintain a frighteningly encyclopedic command of this knowledge. Our Casting Director is sent off to check avails on the lead actor choices Dean will present to the network tomorrow.
Now, for some roles, you hold auditions. For many roles you do so. But TNT is in a pretty good place right now, batting a solid .750 on new series both ratings-wise and creatively. That means we can go after some bigger fish, make offers and see how that falls out. It's worth noting that while we're in a good spot, the dirty secret of most network television is that the actors you see in the lead roles in your favorite shows were almost certainly never the actor the writer had in mind when writing the role, and often not the actor the writer and director actually originally wanted for the role. The actor is often a compromise between writer, director, studio and network. As I've said before we're in a nice situation here as the studio is a guy, who's also directing, and our network humans are pretty damn cool.
However, there are usually are multiple stages of auditions. The Casting Director and his minions often screen the first level, looking for some lucky unknown finds and weeding out the mismatches. Then the writer and director get to watch auditions for a couple hours a day for a week or two. The top choices from that go to studio. Often those auditions are held in a really creatively stimulating conference room. The actors the studio fall behind are then brought to network. I've been in rooms where after the network auditions everyone nods and says "WE LOVE HER! We have discovered an unknown new talent! Hallelujah!", and I've been in auditions where we all look at each other and sigh "I guess we have to pick one, eh?"
Why not wait forever for the perfect casting? Well, you can do that for features -- my movie's swung back to March because I have an offer out to an actor who's not available until then. But TV is still driven by what the network needs for its strategy this year, and if your pilot fits, then you need to get it up and running, or odds are it will fall through the cracks next cycle. This is insane, horrible, and wasteful, of course, and many wonderful TV shows die and are never brought back for, frankly, no goddam good reason.
There's also the fact that there are just a shitload of pilots being made every pilot season, and anyone who's halfway decent in an audition -- who's gotten their career to the point where they can get in the room -- is a hot commodity. I have the '08 Fall pilot breakdowns right here ... ah. Roughly 110 pilot scripts in development currently. And this is early times yet. Certainly not all will go to pilot, but plenty will, and then you also have to take into account that during Fall development many actors are working on shows for short arcs. So, even though they're not committed for when your show will actually be on the air, even though the actor you want for second lead is free as a bird for when you'll actually be shooting the series, you cannot get him for the pilot because he's busy being Cylon #7 for the next three Battlestar Galacticas.
As I said -- horrible system. The pilot process is both structurally flawed and utterly fails to produce results statistically better than random show generation. The process deserves to die, and quickly. But Hollywood's a big boat, and she turns slow.
And, to be blunt, the odds of getting all five dream actors you want for the leads/ensemble (assuming the writer, director and producers all miraculously agree on the "dream") to coordinate their schedules is thin indeed.
Oh, as I said, a light day for me, perhaps, but our physical production unit, however, is going absolutely 150 mph trying to nail down a shooting location. They are busy calling people, seeing how many crews are available in different cities, checking locations compared to the script, and comparing financial models. I keep one eye on this stuff from a distance but, frankly, all I'm going to do is slow them down. The key to being an executive producer is knowing when to stay the hell out of the way. Literally everyone on a TV or film crew is usually more experienced than you are as a writer. After all, most of your scripts never get shot. They shoot episodes/movies every week.
Afternoon was reviewing the first script notes, making script adjustments for physical production constraints ("Can we do these two scenes in one location to save a bit of time and money?"), waiting for casting feedback and developing alternate ideas if avails crap out on us.
Day 4: Final script notes with the director, and refining (and redefining) the casting lists based on Casting Director feedback on avails, and some late-moment inspiration. I meet he Production Designer, whose job it is to design the entire "look" of the show, from physical construction of the sets through the fine points of color scheme, tech level, general visual vibe... A pilot is supposed to be representative of what you'll see every week, so whatever the Production Designer comes up with, you'll probably be living with that visual tone for the entire run of the series.
Also some more discussion on where to shoot the damn thing. In four weeks. I'm going to lie down now.
Day 5: For the morning, Chris and I work at his office and finish up all the notes. That draft, which will become our locked Final White Draft, is emailed off to the studio. The scenes will be numbered so the script can be prepped for breakdown -- that is, so you know exactly what will be shot where and in what order. All revisions after this will be on a page-by-page basis, and the new pages will be on different-colored paper. That is, if we change three lines on page 45, an entirely new page 45 will be issued with the changed lines asterisked on the right hand margin. Furthermore, this revision is printed on a different-colored paper stock so you can just rip out the old page 45, insert the new one, and be assured that you have the latest revision. This is why, on a set, you will hear "Did you get the blue pages?"
Afternoon was a final conference call between writers, studio and network, now that the network's seen our ideas, to further discuss casting choices for all five lead roles. We then nail down a rough strategy for Week Two, and discuss some of the camera tech we may use.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Movie Recommendations
This week, The Lookout was released on DVD. You are absolutely goddam mad not to rent or purchase this fine piece of entertainment. I will also recommend, for a lighter tone, Severance, the British horror/comedy. It's three times the movie Hostel wanted to be, if Hostel actually wanted to be a real movie, wherein one, say, actually gives a shit about the characters and there are regular flashes of wit. If you're more into the torture porn, good on ya, but Severance is the better movie.
Pre-Production Day 2
The secret, of course, is that the only places you can see the "Hollywood" sign are really shitty areas of LA.
The above pic's the view from the parking lot of Sunset-Gower studios, where Electric Entertainment has its current offices. This is weirdly circular for me as my first writer deal in Hollywood, the reason I moved to LA, was an overall deal at Big Ticket Television. Which was housed at Sunset Gower -- the building right behind me as I take this photo, actually. Seven years later, I've sold the house and returned to Canada, and yet today I parked in the same damn spot as my old assigned space. I don't know whether to marvel at all the changes that happened in only seven years, or be quietly disturbed at the Uzumaki vibe. The neighborhood has not changed a bit, including the very sketchy sushi place in the mini-mall nearby. As recounted by fellow comedy writer Jeremy:
You: what kind of sushi is this?
Waiter: Suuuuu-shi!
You: um, no, what kind of sushi?
Waiter: ... with rice.
I took another photo, from the roof of my old building. I'd forgotten that a.) the view is no better and b.) up on the roof you suffer the full effect of the sun, and the heat stroke hits in about eight seconds flat. Once you're east of saaay, La Cienega, August and September are the months during which God really tries to make His point that this is a desert, and you are not supposed to be living here.
To answer some questions -- this pilot was written by myself and old friend Chris Downey, who started as a screenwriter in the exact same time and place I did, the first season of Cosby. The movie I'm working on directing will probably push to winter because of some actor availabilities. So, for this, I'm writer/exec-producer guy.
Today was budget meeting (blew that one off ...); production director meetings; preliminary casting lists; script notes and some directing notes, nailing down the final draft; discussions on where physical production will actually occur, comparing and contrasting the financial benefits of various cities; a meeting with some software guys on setting up a cutting edge new digital workflow (Dean met, I nodded a lot); showing people the first episode of Jekyll from my Neuros 442 (hey, casting related!); meeting with the storyboard artist and storyboarding out the first heist sequence. I was certainly not central to many of these meetings, but that's a good idea of what goes into early days in pre-production. All about getting the train on the track and building up steam.
Dinner was with the infamous Tyrone, my friend Tom who works on The Colbert Report and a few other friends. We'll see if I can figure out a decent write-up on the conversation where I compared America's obsession with Vietnam to the Jim Belushi movie Mr. Destiny, and Tyrone's subsequent dismay.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Pre-Production Day 1
(above, the luxurious Toronto Airport Maple Leaf Lounge and my traditional pilot shoot gear: carry-on, backpack and laptop)"Pre-Production Day 1" is technically incorrect, as pre-production on the new US television pilot started, officially, Friday. You may be surprised, as I tend to share such events with you. No more surprised than I. Greenlit on Thursday for a tight turnaround, assuming we do all right with casting, hence my momentary silence as I scrambled to adjust. Off to the races, kids.
This moring, equipped with the good Canadian Benadryl (still laden with its crystal meth-friendly ingredients, and so still effective), I've hauled my last-stage flu-ridden carcass onto a flight to Los Angeles. This means not seeing the Lovely Wife for a while, which sucks beyond all belief. It's particularly cruel as our mutual passion, Frisky Dingo, was just about to return to inflame our Sunday eves.
I'll endeavor to share the process with you as completely as possible, taking into account a.) any possible cross-ups with network confidentiality b.) common sense c.) the secret bits where I meet with the Jews and Socialists to insert our secret liberal agenda into our American entertainment products. The ironic bit, of course, is that the premise for the pilot is both a callback to the classic crime/heist shows of the 70's (intentionally) and in its own way as tech-savvy and subversive as Global Frequency. Oh, and craploads of fun. As much fun as we could cram per page.
This is also a very 21st Century project in that the studio is ... a guy. Dean Devlin, occasional business partner and good friend. The only suits are network suits, and the few I've met are pretty damn sharp. Otherwise it's an experiment in solo producing without all the overhead gunk. Dean's pretty aggressive in pursuing new tech -- he'll occasionally buy new video cameras just to test them past the specs the manufacturers use -- and new business models. We'll see what we wind up with using some elements of the New Model of production.
So, Los Angeles today to gather my wits and notes. Sometime later this week, the glory of location scouting. I believe a casting director has already been hired. We'll see if we can get some video up here occasionally as we work. In the meantime, smoke 'em if you got 'em and ask any questions you like. I'll try to answer most without lying.
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