Having a "goal" is not enough. We must be specific in identifying our long term and short term career goals. The key word here is SPECIFIC.
"I would like to write movies" is not a valid career goal because it's not specific enough. What kind of movies and what are the steps we need to take to get there?
For example, five years from now I'd like to be an extremely well paid feature film writer. So am I going to achieve that goal by writing character driven indie dramas? Because if I write and sell two of those (hell, even one), that's what type of writer the industry will see me as, and those are the types of offers I'll be fielding. Luckily, my sensibilities lean toward high-concept, big budget ideas, which are exactly the kind of ideas studios pay well for. So taking into account my goals and my sensibilities, I should be writing high-concept, big budget specs, and that's exactly what I'm doing. If the story idea I have doesn't serve that 5 year goal, I write it down, takes notes when ideas strike me, and file it for later. But I don't lose sight of the goal and the genre expectations I need to meet.
Hopefully, after 3 or 4 big budget successes, I'll have the resources (read money and connections) and experience to fulfill my long term goal of writing and directing my own modestly budgeted films through my own production company housed underneath the hollowed out volcano of my private island/kung fu training compound. A much easier goal to attain once everyone in Hollywood knows my name, I have demonstrated I can generate profit for them and proven with decisive force that my giant space based laser will in fact work.
So my short term career goal is to become one of the go-to writers for high-concept, summer blockbuster level ideas. THAT is specific. I now have a much clearer idea as to what I need to accomplish in order to achieve that goal. Have you given enough thought to your specific goals, as well as formulated a plan to achieve them?
How Do I Love Thee, Basterds? Let me count the ways...
1. Writing: every scene is vintage Tarantino in that they all include drama, comedy, tension, set-ups, pay-offs and climaxes, wonderful and insightful transitions and yes, sudden violence. EVERY SCENE contains the aforementioned. Hopefully, one day I will be able to say that about my own writing. In any case, it's a great goal to aspire to.
2. Cinematography: Tarantino always impresses with his ability to call the shots - his camera holds the frame when it needs to, boldly and with supreme confidence. This is exemplified beautifully in the opening scene, which, by the way, is just masterful fucking storytelling through and through on the part of the entire cast and crew. His composition within the frame is on par with any great painter. In lighting, again, I am reminded of the great paintings of the masters. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the opening shots in the French countryside weren't inspired by a Cezanne or Monet landscape. The camera is always placed exactly where it needs to be - if you're paying attention you can see precisely WHY he's chosen the angles and camera moves he has. Also, his camera moves only when necessary, and is always balletic when it does so. There are no extraneous moves.
3. Dialogue: Dare I say no living filmmaker can write dialogue as funny, smart, tense and full of subtext as QT? I dare.
4. Casting: The entire casting is inspired - not what or who you'd normally pick to fill those rolls, yet no one else could fill them. Every single actor is pitch perfect in their parts (let's not even START on the ghastly brilliance of Christoph Waltz's performance). Tarantino didn't sit in some dreary L.A. casting office to fill his needs, he actually went to France to find the French actors, Germany to find the Germans, etc. This is a director who will do whatever it takes to get his exact vision on screen.
5. Score: never dull, never over the top (except when it needs to be), always perfect. Memorable, yet not overpowering.
6. Directing: Tarantino treats all these elements with the studied grace of a symphony conductor, every instrument coaxed to play their parts to perfection and only when necessary. There are moments of drama, melodrama, comedy, ridiculousness, hope, inspiration, romance, mayhem and outright terror (again, often all occurring within the same scene), what more would you ask of a film?
Is Inglorious Basterds perfect? No. But damn near and certainly worth a watch. In a multiplex, on demand, interwebs of a world, it's worthy of viewing if only by virtue of being unique AND well done, a combination that hasn't exactly been clicking in entertainment of late. Yes, Tarantino "borrows" from everything he's every seen - who among us don't, to some degree? But QT does exactly what an artist should do when they "borrow": he takes it, puts his unique spin on it and spits it back out at us. In short, he makes it his own.
If you aspire to make, act in, shoot, light or write films for a living, I'd say Tarantino is required viewing, listening AND reading.
Just saw Avatar & generally loved it, even though I thought it was a bit uneven. Okay, dangerously uneven. On the technical side, it was brilliant. The 3D & other special effects were so meticulous they drew me in to the world of the film in a way I've never experienced before. Everything felt real, every detail of the planet as well as the Na'vi themselves - they felt as solid and realistic as any human that's ever graced the screen (except Klaus Kinski, THAT guy was REAL : ). And the planet Pandora itself is as gorgeous as anything ever committed to film.
Jim Cameron has always been a gifted technician and writer, and though I liked the story, I did feel the execution was definitely NOT up to his usual standards. There were characters that are Cameron staples - the tough warrior chick, the closed-minded General, the corporate lapdog, the brash but brilliant scientist, etc. - but whereas in previous Cameron films those characters had depth, dimension and solid motivations, I felt the characters inhabiting Avatar were mere caricatures of those in his previous films.
Steven Lang and Giovanni Ribisi gave great performances with what they were given, but what they were given were the same villains we've seen hundreds of times. Unfortunately, they were one-note and very predictable in their actions and reactions. They were so run of the mill I kept waiting for them both to don black hats and start twirling mustaches. Sigourney Weaver attacked her role with her usual gusto, which was great, but again I felt her character was singing a single, predictable note. Michelle Rodriguez almost isn't worth a mention, since she played the same character type she always plays, which is basically her tough saucy self. Zoe Saldina did a terrific job, and I suspect the reason I loved her performance and character so much was she was a Na'vi from beginning to end (unlike the Jake Sully character, who did dual duty as human and Na'vi). She was a "good guy" through and through, totally innocent, which means not much dimension, but I bought it, mainly because that's how her Na'vi upbringing would have influenced her. Sam Worthington was good as Jake Sully, and I felt he had a strong enough character arc to carry the picture.
So the actors were fair to great, but again, I had big problems with the general shallow and uninspired characterizations on paper. Surface characterizations such as these serve to make a film predictable, which means no surprises for the audience. Terrible, from a writing standpoint.
Another example of sub-par writing - one which really bothers me, for some reason - was a scene between Weaver & Ribisi about why the humans are on Pandora in the first place. There is simply no reason for the scene besides delivering exposition. The clunky, stumbly, awkward, b-movie dialogue coupled with the shallow characters made this scene close to laughable. There are a few expository scenes like this, but this particular one stuck out as especially irritating.
Would it have been so difficult for Cameron to simply have a scene showing an "unobtainium" or whatever-they-call-it shipment being delivered and Sully asking "what the hell is that"? It would have given a valid reason for the exposition, and would have caused more real (instead of manufactured) tension in the scene since Sully is so clueless he doesn't even know what the hell all this is about.
Nitpicks aside, I still highly recommend everyone see Avatar, if anything for the experience of truly feeling as you've been transported to another world. On a technical level, the film was flawless. However, I can't wait for Cameron to write some more and recapture his talent for writing unique - instead of trite - characters.
It is my pre-pro opinion that the reason Hulk films fail is because their scopes have been ridiculously large. Think Transformers. The reason the live action Hulk TV show worked is because we cared about the characters, and we cared about them because they were rooted in reality. If the only thing that can stop an 18 foot tall Hulk are genetically engineered Hulk-dogs, soundwave cannons or another Hulk (which was all Abomination was), we can't relate to the danger - or lack of. But if the Green Guy was a tad smaller, say, eight, nine feet? And now he can get hurt by something we can comprehend - like bullets or an ax, even a nuclear blast - we now fear for his safety.
If I was writing it, a new Hulk film would be downsized and dark. This is an epic struggle between two opposing parts of the same man, warring sides of a fractured Id, it's Jeckle and Hyde, Frankenstein and his monster. The reality of Banner's situation is dramatic and personal. Use it, for Hulk's sake... and ours.
This is about jumping the gun again. In preparing to market my first screenplay, I came across some very helpful advice in the books "Breakfast With Sharks" by Michael Lent, and "The Screenwriter's Bible" by David Trottier (I highly recommend these books to every aspiring screenwriter). These guys have very practical, step by step advice to follow before I or you tell ANYONE about your script.
Because once you start talking, other people start asking questions, and you'd better be ready to answer in a way that exudes confidence and originality. In other words, you'd better know what you're talking about! The only way to do that is to be prepared. As every business person must know how to promote themselves, so any aspiring screenwriter has to have MARKET themselves.
What am I trying to say? Who am I trying to reach? What will that individual respond to? What's the ultimate distillation - the logline - of my story? Does it roll off my tongue when I say it out loud, or does it trip me up? I have to sound excited about my story, not confused by it. Who SPECIFICALLY am I going to send my screenplay to? Why?
The answer to these basic questions (and many others) must be known before I start talking to anyone. It's a waste of time, money and opportunity to send my romantic period drama to Silver Films. Do YOU have a marketing plan that considers all these issues? A coherent and interesting logline you can say simply; a "phone script" to guide you during calls when you may be flustered for whatever reason; a story synopsis; not one, but several query letters coming from different angles; lists of possible representation, producers, prodcos and talent to query; lists of resources to use in tracking down said information (IMDBpro, Done Deal Pro, screenwriting contests, etc.); lists of other applicable resources like screenwriting communities, fellowships etc. that will help build you network & get your work seen?
If you're serious about a career, all these factors must be considered and are just as important as your writing -- who cares what you're writing if no one will ever see it? All those resources serve that sole purpose: getting your work seen. All of these subjects are covered to varying degrees in the aforementioned books. It is our job as aspiring writers know the marketplace and our place in it. Whether you check out the books or not, pay attention to how prepared you are to sell your story to others, because in most cases we're only going to get ONE shot to impress someone.
Yes, a writer should never talk about their ideas - they should talk about their screenplays, stuff they've actually written. But every week I see films which could have been good, and instead were butchered like Chinese chicken. My wife's head is going to explode if I tell her one more time about the shit movie I saw which would have been so much better and more profitable if they just would have done it my way, or so and so's doing this and this film and it's going to suck unless they do this or that, and since Warner Brothers, Lucas, Spielberg, DC and Marvel all seem to have misplaced my CV, since no one will hire me to write one of these big budget busts - yet - well, goddamnit I'm gonna write about 'em on my blog. That's right, we gettin' crazy up in hey-ah.
So allow me to introduce a new column to the Dangerous Screenwriter Blog, smartly titled "WWDSD?" or, What Would the Dangerous Screenwriter Do? These sporadic posts will each be about what I would do with certain projects that are in the works, or have already crashed and burned. I know, I know, it's just what you've always wanted. You're welcome.
Might as well get the biggest albatross off my neck first: Super fucking Man...
Since no one since Richard Donner will ever bother to make a great Superman film and rebooting the franchise again just seems stupid, I might as well spew my Super-wad of an idea for a Supes trilogy that would grow from Superman Returns AND take care of that pesky kid problem, all right here on my own blog. And if this ever gets to the eyes of anyone connected with Warners, DC or the Siegel estate, please feel free to steal my ideas. The world will love you for it and as long as you hire me for something else I won't be mad, I promise.
PART I: SUPERMAN VS SOMETHING THAT REALLY TESTS HIS FUCKING ABILITIES AND GIVES HIM A CHANCE TO FLY AROUND ALOT AND BEAT STUFF UP (Working Title) A typical day in Metropolis, marked by Super Clark trying to deal with his Super kid being raised by Lois and her swell husband. Sticky relationship stuff. Until a small armada of alien spaceships arrive on Earth.
First Contact, biggest story of the millennia, from a struggling newspaper's point of view. The world is by turns shocked, afraid, curious and ecstatic. We try to communicate but the aliens have no interest -- they go all Roland Emmerich on us, bombing the shit out of our planet, destroying cultural monuments, upending ecosystems, not using turn signals while changing lanes, just generally being a nuisance.
Clark puts his "regular" life on hold and goes into Superman mode, but these aliens are tough bastards with many tricks up many sleeves, giving ol' Supes a real challenge.
Superman eventually beats the aliens down, destroying almost the entire armada. Almost. The last ship takes off and Superman thinks he's won. But the ship ends up at Lois's home, abducts the kid and take off. Lois and the hubby tell him what happened and Superman takes off into space to find their missing son. THE END
PART II: SUPERMAN AND THE WHOLE GANG TOGETHER AGAIN, PLUS ONE. Two years after the alien assault the world is still rebuilding and Superman is again our savior, but he, Lois and her husband have spent their time in search of their son. Superman has enlisted the help of a world renowned female astronomer. A hot one.
The astronomer and Superman start cozying up, making Lois all territorial and jealous. Meanwhile, Lex Luthor has been futzing with alien DNA, injects himself with it and gains alien powers and strength. He is now a physical threat to Superman, and they go mano y mano. Lex is more than a match for Superman and gives him a proper smackdown. Superman crawls back to the astronomer, who tells him she's found the alien planet. His son may or may not be there, but the aliens definitely are. Superman is so happy he and the astronomer share a little kissy kissy. He then takes off and does some soul searching -- he and the astronomer, he and Lois, wanting to go after the aliens that took his son but can't leave earth in the grip of SuperLex.
A contact of Lois's figures out Lex's game and reverse engineers a vaccine. They give it to Superman, and he and Lex battle again. Lex has Superman on the ropes, but Superman injects him with the vaccine and Lex reverts back to fully human. Lex is jailed, but not before telling Superman not only does he know where the aliens are, he knows their whole back story: Lex reveals they came from the same general vicinity of where Krypton used to be. Coincidence? Lex thought not. The aliens were at war with Krypton just before it blew up. Since then they have found and eliminated every stray Kryptonian, Superman and his son now being truly the last of their kind. Lex points out the aliens never would have found earth if Superman didn't revisit the remnants of Krypton (set up in Superman Returns), therefore if it wasn't for Supe and his son, the devastation the aliens wrought upon earth would not have happened. The astronomer tells Superman a dude's gotta do what a dude's gotta do and with Lois and her husband's blessings as well, Superman takes off into space, heading for the alien planet. THE END
PART III: SUPERMAN AND LEX, BFF Superman flies to the alien planet, which turns out to be Bizarro World (look it up, it's part of the comics). Superman has to navigate this backwards, contrarian planet, running into twisted copies of Lois, Jimmy, Perry, everyone the aliens came in contact with back on earth (and other planets), including an Bizarro Lex Luthor, who in turn becomes Superman's greatest ally.
Together Superman and Bizarro Lex either find the boy, or they don't. Either he's intact, or has been turned into some weird Bizarro experiment which Superman will either have to save or destroy, depending on whether we want the kid back on earth with Superman or not. In any case, Bizarro Lex plays a big part in Superman's success.
After his great adventure, Superman returns to earth, his spirit now as strong as his physical form. THE END, AND THE SAGA CONTINUES...
If I set out to write a particular screenplay, the implication is one story, 3 acts. The main action of the story is simply known as the plot - what happens and to whom. I like to think there's another story that runs just underneath the main story, which is my theme - every great story is really about WHY it happened, that's they key to what makes them "work" as well they do. So what happens, to whom and why it happens = plot, theme and character, the basic building blocks of story, and suddenly I find myself writing not one but two stories which must overlay each other perfectly.
But the plot thickens (sorry) because now I have to add the subplots. Why not just write a straight story about one thing and be done with it? Because if I want it to be good - even if I only care if it's good enough to get sold - every well told feature script has subplots, at least 2. Pesky subplots. Sure, I could write a story with no subplots, but I guarantee it won't be a GREAT story or one that will sell or further my career in any appreciable way. Every great film explores one main/core theme from a variety of viewpoints, thereby giving them the qualities of depth, range and scope. Thematically, they've covered every applicable angle of their story. In order to compete at the professional level, I need to do that with my stories.
Subplots do most of the heavy lifting in this exploration of theme. To accomplish this, those 2 subplots have to be as structurally sound as the main plot, so they each must have the applicable 3 acts - beginning, middle, end (though some of these acts don't necessarily need to happen on screen). Further, if they are to be a unified part of the story, all subplots must relate to and inform the main plot's theme. If they don't reflect the theme in some meaningful way, they will seem disjointed, out of place or wholly unnecessary. So if I aspire to write great scripts - again, even if I only aspire to write so/so scripts that simply sell - subplots are necessary. If anyone's keeping count, I now have to write 5 stories, not just one. I don't even want to THINK about re-writes at this point!
So to maximize my story's potential I start with theme in creating my main plot, or vice versa - letting the plot dictate the theme. Whichever comes first is irrelevant, they're now in synch, they inform each other. The next step is to figure out exactly what else I want to say about the theme or, cheesy as it may sound, what else my story "tells" me to say about the theme. Now I have my subplots. Now I separately plot out the 3 acts of each subplot, as well as any necessary plot points. Once that's done I now have my 5 separate stories, all tangents off the same theme, interconnected, informing each other and strengthening the main story as a whole.
The nice thing about breaking my plot and subplots down like this is that I get a good view of them separately and can now interweave them at will in a way that makes logical, progressive story sense. And once I've started writing the actual screenplay I know I won't get "lost" in a maze of half-baked ideas and dead ends. It makes me very clear in what I'm writing, and it makes my stories multidimensional instead of shallow and one note. Hell, one day I may even write a truly GREAT screenplay - or at least one that sells.
"Contacts" are delicate things, especially when you're first getting started. Typically you don't have many, so you have to take care of the ones you do have (remember, Contacts breed Contacts). Once a Contact is broken, the chain of people they're connected too is broken as well. So if you have a "solid industry Contact" you're planning on hitting up once you've finished your genius screenplay, never, ever, under any circumstance, tap that contact too early. To wit:
A Friend of mine works at a big agency. We're good friends, have known each other a while outside of the industry, etc. After I finished my first readable draft of my current action/comedy spec, I tapped my Friend and asked if they would read it. My Friend was happy to try to help, but since they work at a large agency, said Friend is naturally very busy. So my Friend gave the script to their partner to read, a Writer a few rungs above me.
The Writer did me a true solid: they read my spec and gently explained to me that though there are some strong elements, the script as a whole was far from ready for market. The implication was not only was a major rewrite needed, but I had a lot of work to do as a developing writer. It wasn't just the script - I wasn't ready for market.
That writer did me a very big favor. I took the advice to heart and spent months not only rewriting the script, but boning up on my screenwriting craft. Reading everything I could, screenplays, books about films, books about writing, books about the industry. Rereading screenwriting books I'd already read. I read the trades daily. I search out podcasts, blogs, interviews of successful/up and coming writers, etc., anything that would enhance my knowledge of the craft and push my writing and myself to the next level. By the way, these are things we should all be doing on a daily basis anyway.
After months of study and months of rewriting, I finally had a new draft of my spec I was very proud of. It was good and I knew it. I contacted my Friend for another read. This time my busy agency Friend gave it to an agency Reader. The Reader read my spec, wrote coverage and my Friend was generous enough to send me a copy.
I am happy to say, aside from one or two issues here and there, the coverage was very positive. I told my Friend to give my script a read, since their agency's coverage was so positive. My hope was if my Friend read and not only liked but saw the commercial potential for my spec, they might be inclined to get it to someone who deals in such commercial projects. However, though they have been immensely helpful, said friend has yet to personally read my spec. Why? Because first impressions stick, and in my Friend's head is their first impression of what they've heard about my writing: I'm still at amateur level, and no one is excited to read the work of an amateur.
Me and my work have to get people excited. In order to do that, the work has to be exceptional, better than good. If it isn't I risk alienating a Contact, and at this stage of the game, I can't afford to do that. Can you?
Theme and change are big parts of my own writing. I want to entertain people, but I also want to make them think, see things in a new way, maybe even change their lives, as pompous as that may sound. Lots of writers have this goal, but so many of us make the mistake of coming off as preachy and heavy handed instead of subtle yet forceful. To that end, I'm reading Dr. Linda Seger's book "Advanced Screenwriting" and came across some insightful advice regarding character arc and inspiring your audience. The following advice is a quote from author Thom Hartmann:
"People change not by taking something away from them, but by giving them an additional tool. Since the Self is a collection of all that we are, people resist if [they feel] something is being taken away. For instance, if someone fights at every opportunity, for them giving up fighting means giving up part of themselves. But if the person is told that fighting, in some circumstances, can be a good thing, they might be more receptive to picking up the skills of negotiation."
Dr. Seger goes on to say that audiences identify with a character subjectively and objectively. Subjectively, we live with the characters in the moment, experiencing what they experience, through their eyes while we watch the film. After the film, once we reflect on what we have seen, we are now looking at the film and character's actions/journey through an objective lens, "remembering scenes, reflecting on character actions and seeing their arc as being similar to our personal arcs. They see the choices and the consequences of those choices, thereby giving your audience new tools through which they may affect their own inner transformations".
If you're just being preachy, i.e. not giving the characters and consequently the audience choices to change, you're not giving them the new tools to affect change. "You model new behavior through your characters, and the audience members can, through them, acquire the know how to make change, if they so desire."
The transition from cavemen to modern civilization only came about through ideas and concepts once considered "dangerous" by the status quo. I would like to continue the honorable tradition of confounding the status quo, in hopes of helping to drive our world and our minds toward a better, brighter, future.
