No Meaner Place

March 3, 2010

“The only unnatural sex act is that which you cannot perform.” – Alfred Kinsey

Filed under: Conversations With, Pilots, Pilots Spec Scripts, Writers, York — Tags: , , — Neely Swanson @ 9:51 am

Love Machine by Bird York

What: “Burnout Brenda” finds her calling and gets paid for it too.

Who: Brenda Haynes, still smokin’ at 36, lives with her parents in a basement apartment and works the bar at the family bowling alley.  Working class tough, Brenda realizes her life is aimless, but it’s hard to let go of a partying attitude.  Mom is still praying over her and Dad is a bit fuzzy; brother Richard, the married super star of the family, a DA with a solid conviction record and higher office ambitions, is still the condescending asshole he always was, except now he’s a hypocritical condescending asshole. Further accentuating Brenda’s pain are the divorce papers her ex keeps sending over (and she keeps burning) so he can marry his 22 yr. old girl friend, Crystal.

On Saturdays, Brenda temps at a Vet’s office acting much like an animal “whisperer.”  Less than patient with irritating humans, she has a remarkable ability to calm terrified and wounded animals, and it is while doing this for a dog in incredible pain that her abilities are noticed by Mark, the dog’s owner.  Mark remarks that Brenda might make an excellent therapist’s assistant and recommends that she contact Dr. Jason Lerner for a job.  Skeptical of her chances, especially given her spotty resume, Brenda, nevertheless, makes an appointment to see Dr. Lerner.

Dr. Lerner: I assume that Mark filled you in how we work here. Although under my direction, the therapeutic technique requires that you work one on one with the patients. Our approach is not for everyone, this is a very specialized field. I expect my support staff to be patient, compassionate, open, non-judgmental. Confidentiality is a must. Some of my patients are dealing with years of physical and emotional blocks that would be our job to try to help them transcend. It’s a tedious process that can also be extremely rewarding.

Over Happy Hour drinks at the neighborhood bar, Brenda gives Lila (her best friend) the good news.

Brenda does a little dance of excitement as she pulls out the training pamphlet Dr. Lerner gave her. She hands it to Lila.

Brenda: And all I have to do is take this training course. Five days, a breeze. And he’s gonna pay me ten bucks an hour while I’m taking the class.

Lila: Jackpot. Does he need any other assistants?…(reading) What’s SPT? Surrogate Partner Training. That’s weird, you’re not going to give your eggs or nothing, right?

Brenda: ‘Course not. It’s going to be therapeutic. You know, like I do with the animals, I guess. Comforting people who are upset or –

Lila looks up from the page, a serious look on her face.

Lila: -can’t get wood. Bren, this is a sex surrogate training program. You know, teaching people how to do it, have sex.

Brenda: Are you crazy, don’t be ridiculous.

Lila: (reading) “It is the surrogate’s responsibility to ensure protection against conception. Surrogates shall be responsible for adequate precautionary measures against the transmission of communicable diseases and infections.” (then) No wonder it pays a hundred krill an hour. The doc wants you to be his night nurse.

Brenda: Fuck, fuck, fuck. How did I not know this?

Lila: Is the doctor guy sleazy?

Brenda: Only hetero guy I’ve met who didn’t do the “I’m-not-looking-at-your-rack-I’m-really-listening” stare.

Lila: Wow, a professional, a real sex therapist. Says they’re the ones who refer patients out to the surrogates.

Brenda: No wonder he was talking about the job having a “social stigma”. (thinking) He must’ve thought that that guy Mark filled me in on the details.

Lila: A job fucking emotionally unstable people for money, some detail.

Brenda: (sunk) Jeez, I feel stupid. There goes fifty grand.

Brenda and Lila have a drink to the mishap as the bar fills with an array of men they grew up with. Lila comments about Brenda having dated half of them. Brenda looks around the room relating moments (we see in Flashbacks) from each of the relationships. Greg had a mommy complex, Bruno, a severe premature ejaculation problem, Iggy, unrealized homosexual tendencies. Brenda sighs at the memories as she describes the rest of the bar.

Brenda (cont.): Jerry with the “bad doggie” routine, Frank who could only do it with cartoons playing on the TV, and of course my ex with the Dutch fucking obsession.

Lila: Dutch fucking?

Brenda pantomimes intercourse between the cleavage.

Lila: (gets it) Oh. (then) You’re like a one stop for the sexually challenged.

Brenda lets out a caustic laugh but then quiets. She looks around the room again, a realization starting to take hold.

Brenda: Jesus, Lil. I’ve already been doing this sex therapy thing. For years now. And all I’ve got to show for it is this bottom-of-the-barrel Happy Hour Margarita.

And so Brenda sets out on a new career path, one for which she is eminently well qualified from the standpoint of empathy, listening skills, and (oh, yes) that other thing. Road blocks appear in the form of her arrogant, judgmental brother, he of the higher political ambitions, who threatens to use the long arm of the law to shut down the therapist; but having finally found something she is good at, Brenda also finds the evidence to stop her brother.

No Meaner Place: What starts out as a street-smart rollicking comedy segues nicely and naturally into a thoughtful (still funny) character dramedy touching on a subject that is both serious and misunderstood.  This is so edgy, so funny, so thought-provoking and so different from anything out there.  Now I’m as aware as, by now, you are that “so different from anything out there” seems to be the “kiss of death” rather than the “Eureka” moment, but still… Bird has written such a compellingly funny and serious pilot that it is inconceivable that Showtime didn’t snap this up, especially given the misfire (I’m assuming they realize that it is a misfire) of “The Secret Diary of a  Call Girl.”

Slutty blue collar girls are terrific fodder for the sitcom world, but rarely is an extra human dimension afforded them as Bird has done for her Brenda.  And, this is a real area of therapy, one that was prompted by the Kinsey Report and pioneered by Masters and Johnson in St. Louis.  From the series construction standpoint, Bird’s script is practically perfect as the 100 stories don’t just depend on Brenda and her patients because she has set up family conflict as well with the hypocritical overachieving brother, the ex-husband, and Brenda’s own personal dysfunction related to a personal sexual abuse history with a relative (hinted at in the pilot).  I don’t really care about polygamous husbands, Madison Avenue in the 60s (or even the 60s), sexually addicted college professors, or foul mouthed disgraced baseball players turned high school coaches – but I do care about this woman and her burgeoning career.

Life Lessons for Writers:  F*ck ‘em if they can’t take a joke, or maybe, in this case, just f*ck ‘em.

Conversation with the Writer:

Neely: I’m going to lead off in the usual way…HOW ON EARTH DID YOU COME UP WITH THIS SCENARIO?

Bird: An exec asked me to try to write something about an area that he felt no one had cracked, a show about a SEX THERAPIST. I was concerned that the whole therapy thing was played out on television but upon researching the topic found out that at no point, even during the most intensive of couple’s therapy, does sex actually happen in a sex therapist’s office; just people talking about sex. I didn’t find that very dramatic, but in the middle of my research I learned about sex surrogates and how they are the hands-on healers of the sex therapy world. In the same way a physical therapist aids an M.D. (the doctor diagnoses the physical problem and the physical therapist helps bring the patient’s body back to health), a sex surrogate assists a PhD sex psychologist by helping the patient work through their sexual issues. While I found that world fascinating, I was still cautious about the whole sex-as-titillation aspect as a premise since I’d never been a fan of sex for sex’s sake in story telling. Having been an actress and somewhat of a feminist for years, I’ve always really taken issue with how women are portrayed in film and television.

Now, a few years ago I had written a spec half hour comedy about a blousy, big breasted blue collar girl named Brenda who was a bit of a ne’er-do-well; sort of a blue collar American version of AB FAB – completely Un PC.  She was in her thirties, partied A LOT and lived in her parents’ basement apartment as many adults still do in the Midwest.  My research confirmed that the world of sex surrogacy is a bit of the Wild West. There is a certification program that most surrogates take but the field is wide open as to who can become a surrogate. The idea of someone like Brenda, someone so plain spoken with a street smart, visceral education about sex, partnering with a Harvard educated PhD and helping heal people who are sexually wounded–well my head just exploded and I had to write this script and did it on spec. It had become a different show than the one I was initially asked to develop by the exec.

Neely: I went to college in St. Louis and always made it a point to attend the annual Masters and Johnson sex lecture.  I remember Dr. Masters talking about arousal in men and women and his comment (I’m probably misremembering) that readiness in men was an erection and readiness in women was usually only during ovulation but could be overcome by two martinis. How aware of their work were you when you wrote this?

Bird: I researched sex surrogacy tirelessly before writing “Love Machine.” Masters and Johnson pioneered the field and it gained some ground in the 70’s but then faded away. It’s still mainly found in Northern California and in upstate New York where the women surrogates are more in the “earth mother” age group. It’s truly a fascinating and very misunderstood area of therapy. I think some of our deepest feelings about intimacy, self worth and control become apparent in how we express ourselves sexually. I educated myself as much as I could so I would come to the subject from a grounded, informed place. The most moving article I read was written by a thirty five year old polio victim.  He had such a severe spine deformity that it prohibited him from even being able to sit up.   Still a virgin, he had never been touched by another human being other than in a medical capacity or a familial hug. He went to see a sex surrogate to try to learn how to experience himself as a sensual being. He wrote that on his way home from the session he felt essentially transformed – he had finally become an “adult”. Never having had a sexual experience is what he felt separated him from all other adults, not his extreme deformity. The tenderness and patience his surrogate treated him with, his discovery of himself – well, the story broke me into pieces. I thought if I can keep the in-your-face humor Brenda naturally exudes and couple it with stories of this emotional magnitude, I will have a series I would be in heaven to write. The bull’s-eye I aim for in my writing is comedy that unexpectedly unzips your heart. This premise was the mother lode.

Neely: Brenda is one of the most developed characters I’ve read in a long time.  It’s so easy to stereotype and ridicule blue collar women – always the sluts with a heart of gold (not that Brenda isn’t that also), or characters of quiet desperation.  Brenda is unapologetic about her life choices but cognizant that most of them have been poor.  Do you know any Brendas?

Bird: I do. I grew up for a time in a working class neighborhood in Chicago. What I love about a lot of people from working class backgrounds are their survival traits, this amazing resourcefulness that has nothing to do with hand wringing about their lack of funds or wishful thinking about wanting more. They just get on with it and hammer out the best life they can for themselves.  That’s why Brenda has a propensity for buying furniture she can’t afford and then taking it back within the 90 day return policy so she can keep redecorating her apartment on the limited funds she has. She gets her Pottery Barn lifestyle without the resources or education normally required (there is actually a 90-day return policy at a lot of mid level retailers). Kim, one of my friends growing up, was my inspiration for Brenda – D cup, loud mouth, big partier. She’d wear 6 inch heels whether she was walking in five feet of snow or trotting through sand at the beach.

Another aspect of this show that excites me is her world. Exploring the chemistry of melting pot neighborhoods – the extended families that are formed between immigrants from places as varied as Puerto Rico, Poland, Armenia, Central America. I don’t watch everything but from what I’ve seen there is a plethora of upper class characters in one hour dramas. When two thirds of the “franchise-model” are doctors and lawyers, well, that’s a lot of six-figure, well educated lives we’re peering into. No one is worried about survival basics like rent and car insurance, while that’s a real concern for the majority of Americans. I don’t want to bore people with showcasing their daily worries; I just want to allow their lives to be represented, hopefully in an entertaining and moving way.

Neely: I love how I expected this story to go one way and then it veers in a completely different direction.  The sexual dysfunction vignettes are handled with delicacy and compassion, giving Brenda added dimension.  Is this going to be an “Educating Rita” where Brenda eventually outgrows her friends?

Bird: Thank you for your kind words about that. I wanted to make sure there was a humorous yet very human aspect to her first sex therapy sessions. I don’t see Brenda growing out of her working class background per se and certainly not thinking she’s superior to her old crowd. The tension between her work world and home life will be a constant in the show – the pull between Dr Lerner’s cerebral sensibility and her blue collar gut instincts.

Neely: “Educating Rita” isn’t about Rita becoming better than everyone around her; it’s about growing when others don’t.

Bird: I haven’t seen that film, but I will.

Neely: Let’s talk about the implied sexual abuse, presumably by her uncle.  How were you going to try to integrate that while still trying to keep a lighter tone? Obviously Brenda’s sexual inadequacies (she’s never had an orgasm) are part of this.  You also strongly hint that it involves her Uncle Frank and also possibly barfly Ronnie, he of the really bad toupee.

Bird: The man that molested Brenda will be a mystery that runs through the first season. Her molestation, as is often the case in early childhood trauma, will initially start to bleed through in her dream state. This has happened to a few of my friends.  One out of three girls and one out of five boys will be sexually abused before the age of eighteen in this country; ninety percent of them by someone they know and only thirty five percent of child molestation is reported. This is epidemic and needs to be talked about, understood and dramatized. Doing it in the context of a dramedy might make it more palatable. Again, this is certainly a C story in this series but I’d like to bring to light the kind of unconscious behaviors that result from early sexual abuse, even just one instance of it. Many of my friends have had this happen to them, both men and women. One friend became a prostitute for a while; several resorted to sleeping around A LOT as teenagers and young women, another became a sex addict and some have experienced milder pathologies but unhealthy behaviors all the same. The idea of your body being connected to your soul and worth is altered until you devote some time to putting the pieces back together; initially, the personality kind of splinters off in order to survive the ordeal.

As with my friends, people who are innately funny deal with even their darker issues with humor, perhaps edgy humor, but if that’s their default it will be there. So I don’t worry about Brenda becoming too heavy and morbid as she goes through her awakening. She’s a fighter, she’s gonna fight her way through whatever she has to to get to the other side.

Neely: I especially like how you shut down, at least temporarily, the brother’s attempt to prosecute or at least harass Dr. Lerner and effectively get Brenda fired so the problem goes away.  I assume this was not going to be the last of the brother’s attempts.

Bird: No, of course not. There will be some really deep issues and tensions that will surface between Brenda and her older brother which is often the case when children share a secret about abuse, even if it is only at an unconscious level. There is always the guilt about not being able to protect your sibling, a reaction that can vary greatly in the long run. There’s a dynamic that has to be played out, not to mention the basic oil and water nature of their personalities. It’s not going to be all darkness and gloom though. These two share a lot in common that will be realized as well.

Neely: So who did this get taken to and what was the reaction?

Bird: It went to Showtime and one exec completely fell in love with it but her boss didn’t take to the premise but really responded to the writing. One other network was concerned with the sexual aspect of the premise. In my view, the show is less about sex and all about an exploration of our psycho-sexual selves. The actual sex in the show is about five percent of the pilot script and body parts are purposefully written to be out of frame and do not need to be seen to be effective story-wise. (This isn’t a show about a girl banging her way through life; she’s trying to help people.)

What I find curious is that there are quite a few cable shows where the male lead sleeps with as many as a handful of women in every episode; often using them, lying to them, leaving them with nothing. This is a show where a strong female character has sex with men and actually helps them understand themselves, leaves them better than she found them. I’m not sure why that premise is being perceived as taboo?

Neely: Any substantive notes?

Bird: No.

Neely: Was there anything that was going to make this more palatable without stripping this of its originality and sharpness?

Bird: There is barely any actual sex seen in the show and she’s not cutting people into pieces or anything so….I wouldn’t know where to start to “mild” this up.  To take away the sex surrogate premise, well, that kind of kills the originality of the piece to me. Sex surrogacy is the only way an uneducated, streety girl like Brenda would have a chance to work in a bona fide healing profession alongside a PhD. As I said, sex surrogacy is one of the last gray areas left, really.

Neely: I would love to believe that there is still life here – especially since this could easily fit the brands of AMC, Showtime, HBO, and FX. There’s even a new premium channel called EPIX that does not yet seem branded but is looking for something that will put them on the map.  Since this is the kind of thing Chris Albrecht would have jumped at when he was at HBO, surely he would give this a serious look.

Bird: It’s just gone out to some of the places you mentioned and we’re waiting to hear back. It’s attracting attention to me as a writer which is also a nice thing. I have a deep affinity for the spit and soul of this character, her world and the beautiful brokenness of her clients. Instead of writing a much safer franchise spec, I went with something off track but straight from the heart; a show I think will appeal to women and men. Brenda is a “take no shit” kind of woman who also has a lot of male sensibilities, and face it, she’s stacked…like that doesn’t pull in an audience. Plus there’s the added sex education aspect as we’ll go into some areas of sexuality that are quite fascinating, funny as well as just plain strange.

Neely: I remember long ago when I saw my mother had a copy of The Joy of Sex on her nightstand and I gave her a hard time. Her response? “Are you so good you couldn’t use a few hints?”

Not a great segue, but what about you?  You’re an established actor in film and television and an Oscar-nominated singer/songwriter. How did you get started?

Bird: I started out by studying music, acting and writing. I was in a comedy group here in LA in my teens and started writing for them as well as trained tirelessly with some brilliant Actors Studio teachers. I was lucky that my acting career started to take off in my late teens soon after I arrived in LA. Since then I’ve had a steady career working in series, mini series and films, sometimes starring, sometimes supporting, but always mindful of the general message of the projects I’m involved in. I’ve also done a lot of recurring work including “The West Wing” over all seven seasons which was an absolute joy. I’ve done a lot of character roles though I don’t look like what some would consider a character actress. The acting has really informed my writing as I’m about the minutia of a character’s life, their routine, their moments alone. And I’m a stickler about actor-proofing dialogue though I’ve been known to dump whole speeches in exchange for one moment of behavior. How, to me, the acting training really influences the writing.

Neely: Let’s talk more about the song writing.  How did that come about? Do you always perform your own work or have you written for others?

Bird: I write songs for myself or when asked by a director, for their film or television show, though strangely Cher covered a ballad of mine a ways back (my music is very un-Cher-like). I’ve been writing songs since I was 15; studied music for a few years then was signed to a publishing deal with Warner Chappell. My writing songs for film and television happened after I met Paul Haggis. I acted (under my birth name Kathleen York) on his series “Family Law” but he had heard me (Bird York) on KCRW. I gave him some more music to listen to and he really responded to what I do in that medium and asked me to write all of the songs for his last season on that show. Since then I co-wrote, produced and performed the theme song for his film “Crash,” (where the Oscar nom came from) as well as other films, most recently “Seven Pounds” and the soon to be released film “Dumbstruck.” Other television shows include “House,” “CSI,” “Nip Tuck,”, “Everwood” and last week, “American Idol.” One of my favorite things is writing lyrics and composing music (songs) to picture, or to script which is how I’ve worked with Haggis. I write the song understanding the concerns of the screenwriter, actor, film-maker. I wouldn’t want someone stomping all over my story or acting performance with lyrics and showboaty music production. It’s about transparency. Or as I put it once, the writer, filmmaker, actors and crew made the baby and if I’m the theme song that plays under the big emotional montage at the end (which is often where my songs are placed) my job is to just gently assist the baby being delivered. To invisibly push the lump in the audience’s throat through to their tear ducts. Music is such an immediate art form. I love it.

Neely: With your writing, are you looking to leave acting behind, or writing to expand your choice of roles?

Bird: No, I’m not looking to quit acting. That said, people have assumed that I write to expand my own choices but that’s not how my story muse works. I don’t write to get something, I write to give something. If it makes sense for me to act in one of my projects, it literally is an afterthought. I write purely; the characters speak to me and I write down what they say. Obviously if I get my own show picked up, that will be where all my attention will go, towards writing and producing the best show I have in me. Once it’s up and has found its “feet”, of course I’d love to play some really rich, amazing character role as long as other aspects of the show wouldn’t suffer.

My whole life is about passion. I follow my heart, hence the name of my production company, “Guided by Voices, Inc.” I love writing, love making music and love acting, however I’m a quality over quantity type gal. I’d rather write a spec script I love than star in a project I don’t find has much merit.  My whole life has been about following what my makes my heart fly… it hasn’t led me wrong yet.

I’ve been lucky to have been allowed to shadow direct while I was acting on “The West Wing” as well as a few other shows. I’ve worked as an actor on over a hundred films and television shows and worked in post production making music for films and TV. I completed the WGA’s Show Runners Training Program last year, which, by the way, is amazing! The ultimate joy would be to combine everything I’ve done thus far, on my own show. “Love Machine” would be such a wonderful way to utilize my abilities and prior experience. If it turns out the buyers aren’t quite accepting of a premise like Love Machine, I’ve got other stories up my sleeve.

Neely: Was there a role for you in “Love Machine”?

Bird: As I said, my main focus initially would be writing and producing the show. Perhaps down the road, I’d like to write a recurring character who is the Obe Wan Kenobe of sex surrogates; someone that Brenda goes to for advice. I can see her already – mystical yet down to earth, dispensing wisdom about sexuality, men, life.

Neely: Who would you see as Brenda?

Bird: Brenda needs to have a kind of effortless. working class sexuality. The kind of woman who could walk into the cafeteria of General Motors and every guy there wants to bang her. Tall and skinny ain’t gonna cut it. I’d start there and then find an incredibly talented actress. Actors casting actors is always an interesting process. One thing for sure, NO prima donnas. I act, and I’m good at it; actor and ass doesn’t have to be inclusive. I don’t understand why so many television producers hire and tolerate bad behavior when there are so many really gifted actors out there who are emotionally balanced people. I think producers need to ask a few more questions, really check an actor out before hiring them for a lead. If you’re applying as a stock person for a major chain store they do a personality eval. Why not at least get a feel for a person beyond their acting skills if you’re going to be creatively married to them for (hopefully) years?

Neely: What’s up next?

Bird: I’m just completing a pilot for FTVS, my next CD is very close to completion, and I’m about to start writing a rather large concept feature. Life is good.

Neely: I’m really excited to follow your career.  Please let me know if you find more traction with this pilot – I think it’s an absolute killer.

February 24, 2010

“Roger Ailes, the head of the Fox News Channel, is denying reports that he sent President Bush a letter giving him advice on the war. In his own defense Ailes said I’m not in a position to give anyone advice, I hired Geraldo.” —Conan O’Brien

Filed under: Bernstein, Conversations With, Pilots, Pilots Spec Scripts, Writers — Tags: , — Neely Swanson @ 10:14 am

What’s Your Story? by Jack Bernstein

What: NBC has decided to do a low-budget equivalent of “On the Road” but their reporter is no Charles Kuralt.

Who: Extraordinarily self-impressed and ambitious, Steve Goodman worked his way out of his dirt-water anchor existence in Scottsdale by being in the wrong place at the right time during the 1995 Mexico City earthquake where he hires a cameraman to film him crawling out of rubble; and then again and again until he gets it right, complete with tear tracks on his dust encrusted face.

Steve: Lot of dust down here. (then) My dad died when I was seventeen.  He was a fireman. There was five alarm fire downtown and a woman told him her kids were still in the building so he went back in, even though the building was about to collapse. But there was nobody in there. She was mentally ill and who knows why she told him that.

Tears start streaming down his face, leaving tracks through the dust. There’s no attempt to cover them this time. Even his cameraman has a hard time keeping it together.

Steve: (cont.) At his funeral, the pastor said that you don’t get to choose how you’re going to die, you only get to choose how you’re going to live. He said, “Choose a life that’s filled with integrity, compassion and courage. Because in the end, what matters isn’t your success, but your significance.” My dad chose that life. I’m not sure I did, but I hope you’ll think I tried my best.

Steve panics as an aftershock rumbles.

Steve and his cameraman emerge from the rubble of the building quite easily. He angrily approaches two Mexican men and a young boy about seven who is covered in dust.

Steve: Look, José, I paid your kid five bucks to crawl in there and find me a safe spot that would—

Mexican Man: (interrupting) I’m Felix, he’s José.

Steve: You’re all José, okay?! (then) Do you have the video camera?

Mexican Man: Sí.

Steve: In English, José. This is American TV.

Mexican Man: Yes.

Steve: Okay. I’m going back in there. I’m going to dig myself out by hand. Make sure you get it on tape. I don’t want to have to do this twice.

As they head back towards the mountainous pile of debris…

Steve’s Cameraman: Hey, Steve, I’m really sorry about your dad.

Steve: What? Oh, that happened to a buddy of mine. My old man died in a bar fight with a dwarf. (claps his hands together) Alright José! Let’s make some magic!

From that point on, Steve’s career was strictly on an upward arc, from the covers of Time, Vanity Fair, and billboards that proclaimed: “Steve Goodman. The Most Trusted Name in News.”  Until an errant mike left on after the end of a broadcast caught Steve proclaiming that

“…people in Arkansas consider fifth grade to be their senior year…they think “Deliverance” was a documentary.”

Not known as a one-trial learner, Steve’s seemingly sincere, tear-stained on-air apology to the great state of Arkansas is undermined when, again off camera,

“…Jesus! I’m apologizing to people who pronounce the word “cat” with three syllables.”

By the time Steve is summoned to the office of the news division president, Wayne Julius, his newest comments, captured by a disgruntled stagehand, had already gotten 2 million hits on YouTube.  Despite his numbers, his Emmy and his status as one of People Magazine’s 50 Most Fascinating People, Steve is summarily canned and blackballed.

Unable to find work anywhere, Steve gets wind of a new Sunday morning show that Wayne will be launching and convinces Wayne to give him one more chance. This ends up being one of those “be careful what you wish for” situations because Steve will now be living on a bus, going to jerk water towns, taking orders from a producer who was once his very sexually harassed intern, and anchoring a show where they “pick a name at random out of a digital phone book of the United States” presumably because everyone has a story to tell.  First up, Eleanor Johnston, 90s, resident of the Walhalla, South Carolina Nursing Home.  Grandmother of the racist governor, Eleanor has quite a story to tell about how she kept her family afloat during the depression. The governor is not amused but Steve has climbed one step out of the ravine, with many more to go.  Next stop:  Fayetteville, Arkansas.

No Meaner Place: To paraphrase Mark Twain, reports on the death of the half hour comedy have been greatly exaggerated; well, at least as far as what’s out there in script form.  Bernstein’s premise and set up are exceptionally strong with an opening that grabs, surprises and amuses the audience.  The staged “rescue” is straight out of Geraldo and the portrait of Steve as an anchor is everyone’s vision of the local news pretty boy.  But giving the story a surprising level of depth is that Steve, though totally egocentric, oblivious and disloyal, is no Ted Baxter; he actually knows what he’s doing, he’s just too vain and arrogant to do anything but coast and believe his own press.  There is originality in the premise as this is both a “fish out of water” story, as well as one of redemption, with a heavy dose of cynicism.

Bernstein’s strongest suit may be his crisp, laugh-out-loud dialogue.  Upon meeting Booey Maguire, the new show’s bus driver/cook/handyman:

Steve: Hey, how’s it going?

Booey: I’m thirty five years old, I’ve got two masters degrees and I drive a bus.  How do you think it’s going?

Steve: Nothing wrong with driving a bus.

Booey: Really?  Wow. I feel so much better now.  Like my life has purpose.  Thank you.  I can’t wait to tell my family.

Most of us are Booeys, wingmen for the Steves of the world.

Life Lessons for Writers:  Lead with a joke; end with a joke.

“According to the New York Daily News, Geraldo said he is now carrying a gun, and he will personally shoot Osama bin Laden if he finds him. If Osama also has a gun, this could work out okay.” —Jay Leno

Conversation with the Writer:

Neely: Jack, as you know, I was a huge fan of this pilot when I read it at David E. Kelley Productions and your manager Ross was trying to get us to produce it.  Unfortunately that didn’t work out.  So did you take it to anyone else that year?

Jack: No.  I wrote the script during the strike and when the strike was over, David was the first to see it.  Then I ended up on “Monk” and was contracted to USA.  I could do features, but not TV as long as I was working on “Monk.”  I wouldn’t have been able to anyway because “Monk” took 100% of my time. Even if I had been able to set it up elsewhere, I was on set 65-70 hours a week.  I just couldn’t have done anything else.

Neely: That’s pretty all encompassing!

Jack: So the script just kind of hung around.

Neely: What about this year?

Jack: I had a two week window of opportunity between the end of “Monk” and landing on “Royal Pains.”  I didn’t know it was going to work out that way.  In those two weeks it went out to the four networks.

Neely: Any bites?

Jack: They all passed.

Neely: This is so NBC or even FBC.  How did they react?

Jack: I have no idea what they said about it, if anything.  “No” is “no” and the reasons why don’t change that, they just annoy you. It’s just one of those things. It was sort of a “bad news, good news” situation:  It didn’t get produced…and…It didn’t get produced; meaning it is still theoretically still alive.  There’s the old saying, “Dying is easy.  Comedy is hard.” I can walk into a room of 10 people and point a gun at them and  all 10 will have the same reaction. I can walk into a room with the same 10 people and tell what I think is the funniest joke in the world and 5 will laugh uproariously,  2 will chuckle, 2  won’t think it’s funny and I’ll have to explain it to 1 person – usually my mother.  That’s comedy.

Neely: The hope is that an unproduced great pilot script could be revisited.  That is always the case in features, but seemingly never the case in TV.

Jack: I once wrote a spec feature that was passed on at Gold Circle and then a few weeks later the producer got it to the head of Gold Circle who read it and loved it and we set it up there.  I did two rewrites for the director and then it went into turnaround.  I have it back and I’m ready to take it out again.

Neely: Well let’s talk a bit about inspiration.  Was there any particular incident that occurred that inspired “What’s Your Story”? Was it something that you’d been mulling over for a while?  What triggered this story?

Jack: It was a collision of a couple of ideas.  This was a character I really wanted to do – someone whose incredibly successful career is based completely on a lie. He’s taken advantage of it, but then his true self comes out and he has to start all over again.  The basis for the show within the show that the character is doing has its roots in “On the Road with Charles Kuralt, “Everybody Has a Story” by CBS correspondent Steve Hartman, who took his idea from a journalist in Iowa who wrote a column called “Everyone’s Got a Story.”   I took it from all three of them.

I watched Charles Kuralt when I was a kid and I remember the shock I felt after he died and it came out that he’d had a mistress “on the road” all those years.  That disconnect was a definite influence.  But my guy is definitely not Charles Kuralt by any stretch of the imagination.

Neely: Let’s talk a bit about you and your amazing background and I’m actually not talking about “Ace Ventura Pet Detective”, which we’ll discuss later.  What I’m talking about is the fact that you are a very well established 1 hour writer who has written a slam bang ½ hr. comedy.  Didn’t anyone tell you that it’s only ½ hour writers who can transition the other direction?

Jack: I originally came out here to write ½ hour.  My dream job would have been “Cheers.” I was writing spec ½ hours, spec “Cheers,” and spec features. One of the spec features brought me to the attention of Peter Roth who was running Stephen Cannell’s company at the time. I got my first job in TV at Cannell who was doing “light” 1 hours. The first show I did was “Sonny Spoon” starring Mario Van Peebles; Randy Wallace was running the show and he’s now one of my closest friends. We both wrote features that came out within a year of each other.  He did “Braveheart” and I did “Ace Ventura, Pet Detective.” You can see we have similar writing styles. A few years later, a producer I knew told me about a meeting he had with Cannell’s head of development.  The producer was being pitched a bunch of writers and he responded that they were all “TV writers” and then the head of development used Randy and me to negate his argument.

Neely: I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised by your foray into comedy.  You have credits in every genre – Sci/Fi with “The Dresden Files;” procedural with “NCIS”; and dramedy with “Monk.” Of course that’s just the tip of the iceberg. You’re on “Royal Pains” right now with a couple of my favorite writers – Jessica Ball who worked as a producer’s assistant and then the assistant to Scott Kaufer, the showrunning writer on “Boston Legal” the first year; and Jon Sherman (see the earlier article on Nomeanerplace about “The Compleate Pratt.”) who was a half hour guy who went into 1 hour.  How is the comedy infusing the drama on that show?

Jack: I’m actually surrounded by Jessica and Jon.  Jessica has the office on my left and Jon has the office on my right.  When I watched “Royal Pains” before I was on the show, I thought they had a great balance between the comedy and the drama, which is the hallmark of a USA show.  My goal is to not screw that up.

Neely: Any past TV experiences really stand out (for good or ill)? Can you elaborate?

Jack: I did a pilot with Steven Weber.  I love working with Steven because he is so talented.  It was called “The Expert.” It didn’t get picked up and is the single greatest disappointment of my professional career to not get that on the air.  And of course working with Tony Shaloub and the entire cast and crew of “Monk” was as good as it gets.  I guess another goal I have is to work with all the actors of “Wings.” So if you know how to get a hold of Tim Daly…

Neely: Why didn’t “The Expert” get picked up?

Jack: I think we chose the wrong network. We went to CBS and we probably should have gone to Fox, who also wanted to do it.  CBS had only one slot that year for a one hour show, it was on  Friday night and it went to a Glen Gordon Caron show that lasted one season.  It wasn’t their type of show.  Originally I had pitched it to Nina Tassler, one of the great TV execs, when she was at Warners and we sold it to CBS. I turned in the script to her and then didn’t hear back from her for a week. I was suicidal, thinking she hated it, my career was over, I’ll never work again, all those things that go through your mind. Then she called to say it was perfect and she didn’t have any notes.  She sent it to CBS and they passed.  I got the script back, then a year and a half later I had Steven Weber and Nina was at CBS and she said “Let’s do it.”  I don’t know what goes on in a network room when they’re moving their cards around on the schedule; but what are you going to do?

Neely: Clearly the elephant in the room, and at this point it’s a teenage elephant, is “Ace Ventura, Pet Detective.”  You mentioned it was originally a spec script.

Jack: It got lots of attention and most people loved it.  The place it had the most traction was at Paramount.  I actually got a hold of their coverage – I couldn’t have written a better or more glowing coverage myself.  At the top of the page it said “Fast, Fresh, Funny”; and then at the bottom it said…”Consider.”  Consider?? What’s a Recommend?  A lot of things have to fall into place to get a film off the ground.

David Nicksay at Paramount was a huge fan but he couldn’t get them to buy it.  About 6 months to a year later he left Paramount to become President of production at Morgan Creek.  “Ace” was either the first or second project he bought for Morgan Creek.

Neely: Wow! What a money maker that was for them!

Jack: Not according to their books.

Neely: I’m convinced that these guys keep 2 sets of books like the mob.  One for the shareholders and another for the creatives.

Jack: There are probably more than 2 sets. They put the Mafia to shame the way they do their accounting.

Neely: What was your original conception of “Ace”?

Jack: “Ace” was a combination of me wanting to do a comedic “Sherlock Holmes” and watching “stupid pet tricks” on Letterman.  My brother asked me what I was doing and I said a movie about a pet detective and he started laughing.  I asked him if he was laughing at me or with me and he said “a little of both.”  It was just something no one had ever explored and I happened to stumble into it.

Neely: What kind of currency did that give you?

Jack: Well, I sold a couple of features but none that got produced.  I’m not all that interested in writing other people’s ideas and I’m not interested in doing rewrites.

Neely: But isn’t that TV?

Jack: Not to me. TV to me…it’s part of it.  I draw different lines.  With features it’s one off.

Neely: I remember David Kelley talking about why he preferred TV and it was because with a feature it was over and done, but with TV he could continue to explore the characters.  You can do so much more with character in TV; you can continue to explore.

Jack: I feel the same way as David; he just says it more eloquently.

Neely: In looking at the credits on Studio System, I noticed that Jim Carrey, the star, and Tom Shadyac, the director, inserted themselves into the writing credits.  How did they change your original idea?

Jack: I originally wrote it as a straight drama.

Neely: Really???

Jack: No!  The great idea Tom brought to the table was changing the bad guy and his back story, making his motive personal. It was a great lesson. It’s better to have the bad guy have a personal motivation than a monetary one, which is what my original bad guy had.

Neely: How did the final credits read?

Jack: Story by Jack Bernstein; Screenplay by Jack Bernstein and Tom Shadyac & Jim Carrey.

Neely: Can you share any experiences, pratfalls, heartaches, joy from that film?

Jack: It was good and bad.  I spent time on the set and Tom Shadyac, in addition to being a great director is a wonderful person.  Jim Carrey was absolutely brilliant.  I’ve never been on a set and seen someone do what he could do.  He arrives on set and finds a piece of business to do that would enhance the scene.  It was astonishing to watch.

On the other hand, Morgan Creek is the worst company in town.  My bridges were all burned over there because I had the audacity to ask to be paid for the work I was doing (rewrite after rewrite). They were shocked because I was supposed to be grateful they were making my movie and why would I be entitled to be paid.  The minute I filed for arbitration my relationship with them was over. I won the arbitration, by the way.

Sometime around 1999, I was coming out with a new spec at a time when you could still ‘come out’ with a spec and go to lots of places, etc. Anyway, Morgan Creek caught wind of it and their Senior VP of Production who was a friend and with whom I still am friends, asked me to lunch.  And we had a good time and all, then as we were leaving, in the parking lot, he said, somewhat embarrassingly, ‘I gotta ask, I know you’ve got a new spec coming out.  Is there any chance we can take a look at it?’ And my response was, ‘Larry, if my children were starving, and you were the only company in town willing to read it or buy it, I still wouldn’t send it to Morgan Creek.’   The post script to that story is that the script (“Mike Margarita Must Die”) got multiple offers on day one. I sold it to United Artists and I was attached to direct (not that I have a burning desire to direct but I did have a burning desire to shave 2-3 years off the development cycle); I did one rewrite for them which they loved; we went out to actors; then UA. was collapsed into MGM.  The head of UA lost her job, and the script went into turnaround.

Neely: So what’s next?  Is there still life in the pilot?  If it’s only timing, maybe there’s another time?

Jack: Right now I’m noodling a new spec pilot.  I’m backing into the bad guy – using the lesson of making it personal instead of about money.  When I drive to work I think about it. I have the bones to it, but I’m still moving some pieces around.  And of course, there’s Royal Pains, which so far has been a fantastic experience and I’m looking forward to starting production in April.

Neely: I love your writing and I hope to see more. I’ll be sure to catch the next season of “Royal Pains.”  And please send me your favorite unproduced feature.

I’ve posted a new article on pilot writers.  Please take a look.

http://www.blssresearch.com/research-wrap?detail/C7/where_have_all_the_women_writers_gone_long_time_passing

February 17, 2010

“One of the women who claims she slept with Tiger Woods says they never talked about golf while having sex. However, contractually Tiger was obligated to talk about Nike, Gatorade and American Express.” – Conan O’Brien

Filed under: Conversations With, Evans, Pilots, Pilots Spec Scripts, Writers — Tags: , , , , — Neely Swanson @ 10:18 am

“Game” by Thompson Evans

What: Perini Sports Management Company is the largest sports agency in the world representing the most famous and most important sports figures of the last quarter century, but what really sets it apart is one player – Jay Marly, the company fixer.

Who: Jay Marly lives in the shadows reporting only to Alan Perini.  When a represented athlete gets into trouble, Jay is there. Chad Willis, all pro NFL Quarterback, recent recipient of the Walter Payton Award as the league’s most charitable player, is a spokesperson for Christian Outreach, spreading the liturgy and love of Christ throughout Latin America, and his wife’s new charity “Blaze a glorious Path,” an “organization dedicated to helping girls and young women make good choices through the guidelines outlined for them in scripture.” Chad has other ways of helping young women with their choices, but it involves drugs, alcohol and sex and not the scripture.  Jay, who sees most and anticipates all, finds Chad in a room at the Waldorf Astoria waking up on the king size bed, white powder bleeding from his nostrils and two porn stars comatose on the floor, one choking on her own vomit and the other without a pulse.  Springing into action, Jay clears the airway of the one, injects the other with adrenaline and instructs Chad to clear out immediately while he removes all signs of his presence.

The public perception of Perini’s athletes must be maintained and Jay is there, behind the scenes, for damage control and crisis management.  He maintains contacts with the great, near great and the humble by doing favors, providing product, or dispensing information because a favor given is a favor owed.  So important is that give and take that when an up and coming online tabloid, ZZM.com, is given the scoop about the homosexual preferences of Devin May, star NY Nicks player, they quash it when Jay offers them up an even tastier tidbit.  Jay, procurer for Devin’s “weakness,” having gone to Madame Ling’s Chinatown brothel for the services of “Wizard,” a young white junkie, had paid handsomely for his silence; now he knows that there will be more heard from Wizard unless he gets there first.  And the tidbit?

Chad, short of memory and limited in the grateful department, has been meeting with a rival agency, Silver Wentz, hoping for a bigger push in the endorsement arena.  Warned by Jay that there will be consequences if he jumps ship, Chad is convinced that he’s invincible and signs with the other agency, having been assured by them that Perini would never dare do anything because it would kill relations with their other clients.  Silver Wentz was wrong and Chad was arrogant because Jay immediately took the steps he warned Chad about.  He feeds ZZM.com the video tapes of Chad’s Waldorf encounter, and is behind the lawsuits filed against Chad by “Tigra Backdoor” and “Connie Cummer,” the professional names of the two porn stars, for reckless endangerment, furnishing narcotics and dozens of other claims.  In short order, Chad is dropped by the new agency, loses all previous endorsements, and is well on his way to losing his wife Hilary and half of all his possessions.

INT. CHAD’S MANSION, MASTER BEDROOM – NIGHT

In the huge bedroom, Hilary, Chad’s wife is balling her eyes out and throwing any heavy object she can find at Chad’s head as he stands across the room, athletically dodging each projectile and looking very guilty.

Hilary: Porn stars?! Cocaine?!

Chad: Baby, it’s all lies!

Hilary: When it’s the same story, over and over, your whole life?! You’re never going to change!

Chad: You’ve changed me! Christ has changed me!

The mention of Christ causes Hilary’s face to boil up with fury. She looks around the room for something particularly lethal to throw at Chad’s head, finally settling on A HEISMAN TROPHY on the bureau, holding it high in the air.

Chad: Oh, no, baby. Not the Heisman.

Hilary: Is this what really matters to you, Chad?!

Chad: No, of course not. You matter to me. And the kids. Our family. Nothing else. (beat) But, don’t get me wrong, the Heisman’s a big deal.

Hilary throws the Heisman as hard as she can. Chad ducks and the trophy sails through the window behind him in a crash of broken glass. It lands in the back yard with the sound of a dog squealing painfully.

Chad rushes to the window and looks down with deep concern on his face.

Chad: Jesus, baby, you killed Crackers.

Hilary: Get out!!!

No Meaner Place: As I’ve said before, there’s just nothing like a really juicy soap and this one is truly sudsy.  The world of sports is rarely entered outside the realm of telecast games and competitions; but given the sheer numbers of viewers, there doesn’t seem to be a lack of interest.  And what about sports scandals? In so many ways they are so much more interesting and shocking than those of actors and celebutantes if only because the general public seems to hold them to a higher standard.  Now why that is, I have no idea, especially since so many are a rather uneducated lot, despite the meaningless years in college, who often come from impoverished backgrounds and spend their new found riches like trailer trash hitting the lottery.  Were we not shocked by Tiger’s fall from the pedestal and Kobe’s trial in Denver?  How about Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley and their gambling addictions? These men were clearly in need of a fixer like Jay.

Certainly I’m not surprised that this wasn’t picked up by ESPN, especially after their aborted foray into scripted drama with “Playmakers,” the football themed series that threatened their relationship with the NFL.  The show was no great loss creatively, but the reasons for its cancellation show just how powerful the sports entities are.  Still, with a slight tone down (and the graphic homosexual act between Devin and Wizard was the only truly censorable scene) this could have been a good 10:00 show on network.  But then again, there is always the long arm of the NFL and the NBA to contend with.  I wonder?

Life Lessons for Writers:  Nothing is out of bounds, unless it’s off limits.

Conversation with the Writer:

Neely: I have to say I just loved the pure evilness of this.  It was so steeped in Old Hollywood and how they used to buy off the police and then swoop in whenever there was a mess to clean up.  The William Desmond Taylor murder in the 1920s was a perfect example of this.

Tom: I felt like the idea of a “fixer” was so right for today.  In the olden days you only had a few forces you had to control or pay off; but today it’s just infinite.  Think of the number of media outlets and the countless on or off the record sources out there.  Also law enforcement is much more sophisticated.  In today’s world a “fixer” would have to be an octopus.

Neely: Was this always meant to be set in the environment of major sports?

Tom: I toyed with it being in Hollywood but that’s just too obvious.  Professional sports are a better metaphor for what the series is about.

Neely: What is it about?

Tom: Branding.  The branding of professional athletes as a metaphor for the branding we all do of ourselves.  The distance between who we want to be and who we truly are.  For the main character, Jay, that distance is constantly evolving and mutating depending on his circumstances and the childhood demons he’s trying to reconcile.  In the end, I think the show is trying to say that our basic morality depends on how much distance we can close between our brand and ourselves but just like a professional athlete trying to live up to a two dimensional ad agency created character to endorse sneakers or sports drinks or sports watches, the endeavor is doomed to fail.

Neely: Without trying to sound too naïve, do you think this actually goes on?

Tom: Of course.  Don’t you?

Neely: The money that is involved is staggering.  Besides the athlete, who stands to lose the most?

Tom: The athlete’s agency, for one, but especially the corporate sponsor.  Ultimately, how much will Nike, by standing by Tiger Woods, lose?  It’s a good template.

Neely: Who was this taken out to and what was the reaction?

Tom: It went out fairly wide, mostly to cable and the producers who sell to FX and AMC – those kinds of places.

Neely: Any constructive notes?

Tom: Well, the reaction was that it was too dark; too subversive; that the sports world is too rarified.  I didn’t get any specific notes; the criticisms were general and to address them I would have had to change the whole thing.

Neely: The concern I voiced earlier was that the professional sports organizations have a way of acting in concert and although this is a delectable morsel for the TV viewing audience, the big organizations have every reason to want to quash this.  It is unfortunate but true that a great many viewers believe that what they are seeing on television is true or based on fact.  For both good and ill, people will view this as a “roman à clef.”

Tom: I was trying to write an authentic, compelling drama; in doing so you run the risk of drawing the audience in too close.  It’s possible they (the buyers) were running scared. Given the amount of money the networks have invested in professional sports, it wouldn’t surprise me.

Neely: So how can you save the concept and go forward?

Tom: I could always go back to the Hollywood scene but that would make it run into a whole new slate of problems.

Neely: Yes, but in Hollywood there’s this tendency to enjoy the pain of others.  Besides, no one ever sees themselves in the equation – the clueless belief that it’s always about someone else.

Tom: Yeah.  It might be more suited to “Entourage” in tone.  I hadn’t really thought about it.  It’s a conversation I need to have with Jack.

Neely: Let’s talk a bit about you.  I see you have had several features in development, but so far no produced credits.  How did you get started?

Tom: I went to Gettysburg College, a small college in Pennsylvania, where I majored in Political Science with an eye toward going to law school.  But I always wanted to write and when I had a near-death experience after college, I realized life was too short not to do what you love. After I got out I just started writing, and I wrote and wrote and wrote and then sent all my scripts out to everyone I knew in Hollywood – which consisted of about 3 people.  Eventually that got me a manager.  I was able to option a few things for very low money…and then I got my first sale to Escape Artists which allowed me to be a full time writer and quit my day job, so to speak (I was managing a telemarketing office).  My first sale was a feature script called “Wedlocked” in 2001.  Meg Ryan and Richard Gere were attached for a long time; but when after 5 years Meg dropped out, wanting to take her career in a different direction, the whole thing imploded, but it did get me an agent.

Neely: Which of your films is the closest to getting out of development hell?

Tom: “Hit List,” the script I wrote in 1995, and was the script that got me a manager, was just finished as a low budget.  We’re still looking for a distributor.  Minh Collins, a friend, scraped up the money to film it, and he directed it.  The rough cut is due in a couple of weeks.

Neely: What’s it about?

Tom: It’s a dark romantic comedy about a woman who goes through life making a list of all the people she’d like to see dead, from the guy who took her virginity to the guy who took her parking spot and everyone in between.  She ends up falling in love with a guy who unbeknownst to her, is a hit man.  He finds her list and makes it come true.

Neely: Was this based on any personal experiences?

Tom: In the mid 90’s I joined a cheap dating service because I was too broke to pay for any of the reputable ones.  This led to some incredibly scary and incredibly entertaining dates with women who tried to recruit me into drug trafficking rings, steal my identity and use me to make their federal prison inmate husbands jealous.  I’m really lucky to have lived through it.

Neely: You know, besides a movie, there’s a series there – one about the people who run a cheap online dating service and the situations that occur.  But anyway, moving back to you. I know you don’t live in these here parts – where are you based?

Tom: Oregon.  I lived in LA for over 15 years, but when my wife and I had kids, we wanted to give them a more rural upbringing and we couldn’t do that in LA.  I commute to LA one week a month.  I still own a house here and could relocate at any time if need be.  I do a lot of driving.  I’m still a working writer and I’m still living off the things I previously sold and optioned.  The reason I’m trying to break into television is because I’m hoping to branch out.

Neely: I notice a recurring theme in several of your screenplays – that of someone trying to overcome his or her past and make amends.  Is this theme personal and if it is, can you share some of the reasons?

Tom: The quest for redemption is as fundamental to our nature as human beings as the quest for love and far less attainable. It’s an instinctive drive that really lends itself to drama because it’s so perpetual and universal.  I’ve done things in my life that make me wonder if I’m worthy of redemption and wondering this inevitably becomes an investigation into my own soul which inevitably becomes an investigation into the nature of the universe.  There’s really no right or wrong conclusion to these investigations which is what makes them so beguiling.  And so much fun to watch.  I hope.

Neely: Let’s talk a bit about development hell.  What is missing from the equation of your films? Is it financing, although I notice that there are some fairly prominent financial backers on most of them, or distribution, or all of the above?

Tom: It’s a number of factors. Luck is certainly one, and I’ve had quite a bit of bad luck.  But the principle reason, if I had to pick one, is that I tend to write stories that are difficult to market and more and more financiers are only investing in stories that lend themselves to dynamic marketing campaigns.

Neely: I have the students in my class analyze the structure of Fox Searchlight because I want them to notice that the largest and probably most important department is Marketing and Publicity.  They, like most other studios, won’t greenlight unless they can visualize the poster.

Tom: I need to write something that lends itself to marketing.

Neely: That’s not to say you can’t be part of the process.  Looking back on your films, come up with your own poster.  If you can’t, who’s going to go see it?

Tom: True.

Neely: Any advice for the young writer/filmmaker?

Tom: If you feel it in your bones, never give up.

Neely: What’s in the hopper?

Tom: I have a bunch of things – several features.  My only TV is “Game.” I’m giving serious thought to taking the concept into an unexpected arena.

Neely: You might also look at selling it to British television. They aren’t so afraid of ruffling feathers as we are. I definitely look forward to reading more of your material in the future.  Thanks for spending the time with me. I have attached the link to the trailer for “Hit List.”  It’s hilarious and I think everyone will enjoy it.  Please keep me posted on the opening.

http://www.azmovies.net/hit-list.html

February 10, 2010

“Hey there Little Red Riding Hood, you sure are looking good. You’re everything a big bad wolf could want.” Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs

Little Red by John Kirk & Erik Gardner

What: Little Red Davies and her parents, Jennifer and Michael, are on their way to Grandma’s house when they are attacked by “wolves.”

Who: Driving in their Land Rover to Grandma’s house, Michael is much annoyed when all four of his tires blow out when they hit the camouflaged chain of road spikes at the entrance to Granny’s protected compound in the woods.

Michael: You said you told the old lady we were coming.

Jennifer: She promised to clear the path.

Michael: Look at this!  Shredded!

Little Red: Can’t we just walk the rest of the way?  The cottage isn’t far.

Jennifer: You stay right here on the path.

Little Red pouts, mumbles…

Little Red: I don’t like it in the woods. I want to see Granny.

Michael: I’m calling the tow service.

Jennifer: You know she won’t let outsiders on the property.

Michael: Yeah? Screw Granny.

But Little Red takes off on her own and it is then that death and destruction rain down in the form of a wolf; not just any wolf, but –

“The biggest in God’s creation, standing on its hind legs like a human, dripping saliva from eight-inch canines. Its eyes are like silver mirrors, dappling reflected sunlight over Red’s face.”

Acting on protective animal instinct, Michael and Jennifer run to Red’s aid.  Red is able to escape, at least temporarily, but both Michael and Jennifer are mauled and shredded by the Wolf.  Slashed by the Wolf, Red’s wounds miraculously heal instantaneously and her screams alert Granny, who

Steps out of the woods; tough broad, intolerant of shit, rigged out head-to-toe in camo. She racks an AK-74U assault rifle and blasts rounds into…The Wolf…Force of the bullets ripping into its chest lifts the Wolf off its feet and slams it down on its back…She approaches Camera, looking down at the dead wolf, O.S.

Granny: (to the Wolf) Born or bitten?

Now an orphan, Red is brought up by Granny who teaches her about the conspiracy and survival, as well as how to handle an M4A1 short barrel automatic and other helpful artillery. For ten years Granny prepared Little Red by challenging her in war games, but nothing prepared Granny for the day that Little Red informed her that she was leaving the compound to attend college.

Granny: I’ve never submitted your home-schooling records to the state. (beat) How can any college accept a girl who doesn’t exist?

Little Red: I hacked into the state university mainframe, created my own records.

Granny: You make your Granny so proud.

Red, following Granny’s advice, makes every effort to be inconspicuous, or at least as inconspicuous as a super hottie can be.  She barhops with her girl friends, she has a boy friend, and she attends classes; but when she donates blood at the blood drive the results trigger a panic that travels far and wide and leads to an SOS from Granny in the form of  four young survivalist conspiracy freaks, Axel, Izzy, Clarence and Squire, sent to bring Red to safety. Knowing that Red is still unconvinced, Axel plays a DVD presentation by Justin Marrs, the conspiracy theorist.

Justin Marrs: All of the organizations that rule the people of this planet, that keep us living like cattle…are werewolves.

Red shakes her head, dismissive.

Red: Another conspiracy crank.

Justin Marrs: Think, people. If you were an advanced species, relatively small in number, and you had the ability to take human form…would you sweep the streets… or run the world?

Arriving at the bunker meeting site, an abandoned Wal-Mart, Granny is nowhere to be found. The missing Granny only seems to confirm Red’s doubts about the guerilla group.  If only she knew that at that very moment two werewolves, Maya and Rausch, sent by international headquarters, are blasting Granny’s compound to bits.  Entering the cottage in human form they immediately set about mauling Granny.

Worried that Granny has not arrived at the compound, the group takes off for the cottage in their Hummer.  Arriving at the cottage, Red finds something with silver eyes lying in Granny’s bed.  It was Red that they wanted, Red, the only human in existence to have been slashed by a werewolf and not “turned.”  A full scale attack on Red and her posse ensues, with Red as the victor. But her most important task is to find and rescue Granny. Too late…Granny has transformed and Red must make the final sacrifice – emptying her Ruger into Granny’s chest, because the only way to kill a werewolf is shoot it through the heart or sever its head.  Bringing to mind Granny’s words:

Granny: Always empty your clip, Red. (beat) One thing the world will never run short of is bullets.

Axel and the boys lead Red back to the bunker.  No longer in any doubt about the threat facing the world, Red will lead their revolution against the forces of darkness.

No Meaner Place: In some ways reminiscent of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and “True Blood”, but only as far as the creatures that inhabited both shows, “Little Red” is a tongue-in-cheek girl-as-action-hero slam bang filmic comic book.  Everything is black and white and red all over, if you’ll excuse the pun, and larger than anything life has to offer.  All the adults in responsible positions are evil – ministers, deans, professors – and the good guys are in a definite minority.  What’s not to like about a story where the secret password of the conspiracy theorists is “Dick Cheney is a werewolf”?  Red, like Buffy, is an empowered young woman with the ability to lead.  How could you not love a hummer-driving Granny who wears camo, booby traps her compound and carries an assault rifle with a bandolier full of ammo?  Pity she dies in the opener.  Of course there are the mystic mysteries, none of which were mentioned in the synopsis; one of which promises to be an Indiana Jones-type search for the holy grail through an Anasazi Navajo ruin. Pacing, character, thrills, chills, conspiracies, world domination, and werewolves, this series has it all.

“Little Red” would have been enormously expensive to make with the special masks and make-up needed for the werewolves and the location shooting and car stunts.  What is surprising, though, is that despite the expense no one nibbled on this one.  “True Blood” takes a somewhat intellectual approach to other worldly monsters in its racial prejudice take; “Supernatural” is fun in its alien-of- the-week approach; and “Buffy,” now gone, had that high school subtext viewpoint.  I’m shocked given the multi-network edict last season to find interesting takes on fairy tales that someone didn’t latch on to this ultra modern retelling of Little Red Riding Hood with its wolf, granny, and potential hunter-hero in the guise of State Trooper Burns. Rescuing mankind from world domination by an axis of evil would seem to be natural television story telling.  The lack of interest in this one leaves me dumbfounded.  I thoroughly loved this script and I absolutely hate Sci-Fi, proving once again that great writing is great writing.

Life Lessons for Writers:  Don’t go off the beaten path unless you’re armed with a great script and an AK 74U.

Conversation with the Writers:

Neely: Well the first question that jumps to mind is WHERE THE HELL DID THIS COME FROM?  Were you sitting around and discussing “Fractured Fairy Tales?”

John: At the time, Erik had this brilliant idea that coincided with a manager telling him that fairy tales were going to be hot.  The picture he had in his head was of Little Red Riding Hood with two silver six-shooters in her hands killing werewolves.  It was the perfect one sheet.  At the same time I had an idea for putting together a series based on conspiracies; also the 2012 Mayan Prophecy was getting hot (the Mayan calendar predicts that the world will end on the winter solstice in 2012).  What if you had a cabal of werewolves running the world – that would be the conspiracy element.

Erik: I was a big “Buffy” fan but I felt it was a bit hokey.  I had done a horror film for Lionsgate entitled “The Mangler Reborn” and thought: what if we did a horror TV show with a strong heroine, and instead of vampires, how about werewolves?  It wasn’t consciously thought to be a twisted fairy tale.  I mentioned my idea to John and we went from there.

Neely: It wasn’t a well kept secret last season that all the development departments were looking for updated (and presumably skewed or skewered) fairy tales.  Until this week, my assumption was that the only successful pitch was by Jason Katims, although I don’t see any sign of it having been approved to script.  Then on Monday (2/1/10) SyFy announces a MOW project on fairy tales that will include one entitled “Little Red” about a descendant of Little Red Riding Hood who fights werewolves.  That’s uncomfortably close, especially since I assume this script was pitched to them.

John: SyFy did get “Little Red” and we know many people at SyFy read the script.  Since their success with “Tin Man” and the general call for projects based on fairy tales, it’s a fair bet that they’ve read a dozen scripts and taken dozens of pitches based on Little Red Riding Hood.  You hear stories that development execs cherry pick, but I can’t say for sure that’s the case here. I’m curious to see if the SyFy film has an underground conspiracy element.   RHI had their own Red Riding Hood project.  They read ours, but only after theirs had already gone out.

Erik: Ideas are a dime a dozen, I guess.  It’s a let down but onward and upward.  So you come up with ten other things.  I’m curious if the SyFy show is the RHI picture that they were calling “Red.”  John and I have a deep rooted love for horror.  Are these other people rooted in the genre or did they just come up with a good idea?  Do they understand that horror is much like comedy from the standpoint of “set-up” and “pay-off.” You set up the scare and then there’s the pay off.  For instance, the set-up is a girl is walking down a dark hall and hears something; and then someone grabs her from behind – that’s an easy pay-off.  When you work with a partner it allows you to check one another so you don’t always go down the easy path.  I get really passionate about this stuff.

Neely: Regardless, their budget is very low and the concept is much more limited.  Let’s talk about Granny – what a fabulous character. I hated that you killed her! What was your inspiration?

John: Don’t worry; she’s not dead.  Remember, the only remains in the tiger trap at the end belong to the original werewolf from the teaser.  Both Granny and Squire are missing.  As an interesting aside, we named Squire and Clarence after two musicians in the Stone Roses; Axel and Izzy were named after band members from the original Guns ‘n Roses. I love Granny.  She took on her own life.  The advice she gives Little Red about always making sure to empty your clip because the one thing this world will never run out of is bullets is a brilliant philosophy. I remember looking up from the monitor and wishing I could live my life that way.

Erik: My Grandma, God rest her soul, was a tough cookie who everyone thought was so cute.  They just didn’t know. You didn’t dare cross her or she’d kick your ass.  So Granny was inspired by my Grandma. Kathy Bates would be so cool in that role.

Neely: I love the fact that the women are so strong.  It was certainly one of the great appeals of Buffy.  Sci Fi, and again I’ll emphasize that I neither read nor watch it, seems to be a bastion of male/female equality.  Why do you think that is?

John: Believe it or not, I’m not a big Sci/Fi reader either.  I just think that strong female protagonists draw a wider audience – I guess that’s the easy answer.  It’s about empathy.  A woman in danger is easier to empathize with.  The image of a woman who stands up for herself and gets herself out of danger is very powerful.

Erik: I don’t know.  Maybe they feel they can take more chances in Sci/Fi. But I do know,  a lot of women love girl power and Men love to see hot, ass-kicking women.  It’s win/win.  I’ve written this one horror pic where the main character is a guy but in talking it over with my girlfriend, I think I’ll change the character to a woman. It broadens the appeal.  Sometimes though, character gender just comes out of the story process.

Neely: A couple of questions here about the script.  If I followed it correctly, Catherine, the evil leader, might actually be Little Red’s mother transmogrified.  Does that mean she was born rather than bitten?

John: We want people to believe that, but Catherine is actually Little Red’s other grandmother.  Little Red was part of Catherine’s secret project – Red was born a hybrid. Season two would have revealed the many unsuccessful attempts at creating hybrids.  It’s like in “Alien Resurrection” where Ripley reappears and sees all the previously failed attempts to bring her back.

Erik: John has given it all away!

Neely: As any writer knows, you write your heart and your passion and your story and worry about production details after.  Clearly you wrote your passion, so let’s talk about production which, no doubt, freaked out any unimaginative development executive who read this.  This is an unbelievably expensive project.  How do you think this could get done on a network or cable budget?  Of course in an ideal world HBO would have picked this up and budget questions would have been (somewhat) moot; but even Showtime watches every penny.

John: This may have been partly our mistake. No one ever mentioned that the budget was too high. It was too easy for them to say “no” and move on to the next thing.  Did we get nibbles? Yes, but no one ever talked about us rewriting to lower the budget.  In reality, “Little Red” just got us the opportunity to pitch our other potential projects.  Our mistake was probably not addressing the expense.  We wanted the execs to get the full impact of our vision. Lots of people were impressed with the writing and our “world building” – where we set out the whole world inhabited by these creatures.  I was really proud of that. I’ve worked on shows where it was clear the showrunner did not know where the show was going – the season arc, the series arc, character development – and that was the direct reason for those shows failing. Erik and I agreed from the start that we would not make that mistake with “Little Red”. We knew we’d get that question during meetings: “So what happens in episode 10?” Not only could we tell them the story for episode 10, we could tell the stories for every episode through the first season.

Erik: Could it have been done on budget? Yes! I understand how these guys think, but I know how to do this on a present day “X-Files” type budget.  You’d crew locally; have some great EFX guys make the werewolf suits; blood is cheap; the vision is there.  CGI is what costs, as well as the time to render it.  I’d shoot on the RED (a camera in HD format) and shoot it practical.  The technology has advanced so far.  When shooting with the RED camera what you see is what you get.  You don’t have to wait and worry for the film to come back.  It’s just an easier medium to work in and can sometimes be ultimately cheaper.  Yeah, most people said “it’s big.”  The show might have sold if we could have pitched how we’d have filmed it.  But I have to say, the most constructive note we got was when we were told that you have to be able to take out the horror and still have a story there.  You need to think about what is there besides the horror; where’s the story? I think about that a lot now.

Neely: Have you given any thought to repurposing the material?  This could make a fabulous Young Adult book series – it’s a bit too graphic to be the successor to Harry Potter, but it certainly has the makings of a Twilight-style series.  And of course then you would get to double dip because this sure fire book series would lead to a features deal.  Or how about a feature in which the fate of the world is resolved in the end, but only to the degree that a franchise series of films is born?

John: Well, so far our agent, Jack Dytman, has been most interested in the television possibilities, but I think there are feature franchise possibilities too.  I do write fiction and have published some stories in magazines.  You’re right about the serial novel idea.  But Red’s future is up in the air because our writing team partnership no longer exists. Jack’s a decorated veteran in the TV business, and he’s been telling us for a while that he’s taken Red about as far as he can.  As far as I know, he’s never suggested that we try to turn the script into a feature spec.  Then again, I’ve never asked him if we should.

Erik: I’ve thought about doing it as a low budget horror film, so yes.  We also talked about making it a comic book or even a video game, but those talks haven’t really gone anywhere.

Neely: There are royalty arrangements that could be worked out with the two of you, even if only one of you is actively writing the books.

John: I don’t know much about book publishing so I’d have to educate myself about that.  You’re right, though, a book series would build the audience for the future film.

Erik: I used to write kid stuff, so a book series is a great idea.  I know John is a master at prose and has written a bunch of acclaimed stories.

Neely: Let’s talk a bit about you guys.  How did each of you get started?

John: Back in ’96, I moved out to Burbank, renting my own apartment, after an X-Files spec I’d written got me a TV agent.  Within two months of moving, I got my first freelance script, and in less than a year I had my first job as a staff writer on a show called “Roar,” a cult favorite that starred Heath Ledger and Vera Farmiga.  I went on to become a story editor and later picked up freelance scripts thanks to producers I’d worked with on previous shows.  In late 2004 my wife was diagnosed with a serious illness.  Over the next two years she endured five surgeries, all of them at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City.  I stayed with her throughout, but thanks to a good friend – another producer I’d worked with – I was able to keep a very cheap sublet in Los Angeles.  That’s how I was able to be out there in 2007 when Erik first talked about creating a show based on Little Red Riding Hood.

A producer named Tom Towler was the one who sent our initial proposal for the “Little Red” series to Jack. Jack liked the proposal but said he would not consider the project without a completed pilot spec.  He didn’t want to read any other specs and my resume didn’t matter.  To his credit, as soon as he read the pilot he signed us.

Erik: I went to film school in Philly; I wanted to be a DP.  I was supposed to go to Maine for this DP workshop where you got to work with all these famous DPs for a month, but the week before I was supposed to go, I was in a fork lift accident and crushed my foot.  I had to be off my feet for 6 months.  In the meantime a buddy said that we should move to LA when I got better; so we did.  The first thing we bought was a fax machine and I started faxing everywhere looking for PA jobs.  I was obsessed with Sam Raimi’s work and one day I got a call from Universal about a PA job for Renaissance Pictures, Sam Raimi’s company, on a TV series called “American Gothic.” I had a meeting with Robert Palm and Shaun Cassidy. I had no idea who these guys were, I was just excited it was Sam Raimi’s company. They interviewed me and liked me because I laughed so much (I’m sure it was because of how nervous I was).  I got to be their writers’ PA.  I was so nervous meeting Sam for the first time and he was so great. There were some terrific writers at the beginning of their careers on this show – Steve Gaghan and his then writing partner Michael Perry, and Mitchell Burgess and Robin Green. Steve De Jarnatt was a producer on that show and he used to come in with his theremin (it’s an electronic instrument that sounds like a singing saw) and want me to be his audience.  These guys fed me all this information – read this, write that, watch this.  It was all great! I took it all in.  And the bonus was there was lots of time to write. Shaun was my mentor, big time.  I was employed by him for 5-6 years. The last show I was on with him I was supposed to write an episode but I got a full time writing job on another show.  Honestly, I wish I would have stayed.

Neely: When did you become a writing team?

John: Erik and I had been friends for about ten years when he first suggested we work together on “Little Red”.  We spent time face-to-face working on the world building. We talked through the outline for the pilot, developed characters and broke stories for season one and beyond. It’s true, on a smaller scale that process goes on in staff story meetings all the time.  As I said, I’d never worked as a partner in a writing team before, and I’ve never sat in a room with someone and written a script.  I don’t think I could.  Our writing partnership wasn’t the usual in that sense, but I believe “Little Red” proved that it worked.

Erik: Two and a half years ago MGM was sold and we were all laid off.  John was out staying with a friend.  I told him my idea, wrote some pages up, and we said we should do this and see what we can do.

Neely: In looking at your credits, it would appear that you both have probably been working at other jobs as well since both of your credits show some significant lapses between writing jobs.

John: You can be quite successful and then have years out of work.  It’s tough and you need to have people around you who are willing to help and support you. I’ve been lucky that way.

Erik: On and off for the last ten years I’ve been working at MGM, first in development and most recently in distribution.

Neely: If you had to choose one medium to work in, what would it be and why.

John: I like both television and film.  I like the immediacy of TV; you write an episode and then a couple of months later you see it.  I have to admit that features can be like pulling teeth to get the script read, let alone getting it made.

Erik: I’m a filmmaker. I love to write and direct film and TV.  That’s my passion.

Neely: What else do you have in the hopper?

John: I’m working on a new pilot spec and I’ll give that to Jack before the start of hiring season.

Erik: John and I developed something for an independent producer who has studio ties.  It has a female heroine and it’s supernatural and I don’t want to say anything that will jinx it.  My name was thrown into the hopper as director for this presentation project and I’ve been working on it for free, so far.  I hope to finish in the next month so it can be sold to cable outlets. I’ve also been writing a feature and a TV pilot for Jack.

Neely: Thanks for your time and keep me posted on “Little Red”.  Really think about other ways to pursue this project.  I know there’s an audience, and probably a very big one, for your take on this story.  You’re writers, so write.

February 3, 2010

“Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged” – Samuel Johnson

The Associate by J. Mills Goodloe

What: Thom O’Daniel has just been accepted as an associate in the powerful DC law firm of Rittenhouse & Clover LLP.  All is not as it would appear.

Who: Fifteen years ago an innocent young man was sent to prison for a murder he didn’t commit.  An outsider at a prep school catering to the rich and powerful, Andy Linus was framed in the death of a female classmate during a raucous party at which he passed out.  By the time his case went to trial his alleged co-conspirator turned state’s evidence; Andy’s fingerprints and DNA were conspicuously at the scene of the crime; additional witnesses mysteriously appeared; his public defender gave up on him; and the judge sped through the trial eliminating most of Andy’s defense. Worse yet, as far as he was concerned, the letters he sent to his childhood sweetheart, Clara, all returned, unopened.  Angry, helpless and without protection Andy falls prey to guards and wardens intent on keeping him within their walls; but he remains determined to escape and clear his name, or at least discover who ruined his life.  Into his life and cell appears Milan Dotheo – a master of disguise and his future mentor.  Learning of Andy’s situation, Milan proposes an escape plan, predicated on Andy’s education.  Milan has kept a diary within his Bible, a diary that recounts his adventures and one that will reshape Andy into a brilliant man of the world.

Thom O’Daniel, Fulbright scholar, graduate of Stanford and Cambridge, with a three year stint in Paris at a law firm is the only associate candidate hired by Rittenhouse & Clover.  Step One of Thom’s plan has been set in motion, as he informs Gia, his young sister, partner and confidante, an expert in surveillance. At the law firm Thom insinuates himself onto the legal defense team of Gibson Logan, U.S. Congressman on trial for assault against a young female intern by pointing out that Logan is being defended by childhood friends, men whose familiarity with him might cause them to miss details. Thom quickly impresses the others with his preparation and knowledge. Working with the others on the team, Rex Filkins and Hutch Rittenhouse, son of the named partner and grandson of the founder, he observes that they begin to line up false witnesses beginning with a bartender who will testify that the girl had drunk 7 glasses of wine that evening.

Thom: Seven glasses of wine?

Hutch: …What?

Thom: I mean, at 110 pounds this girl would be unconscious.  Maybe the bartender should testify she had three, maybe four.  It’ll sound more plausible.

Rex thinks for a beat.

Rex: Re-interview the bartender. Have him testify the girl had four glasses of wine.

Thom and Gia’s carefully planted surveillance devices turn up the interesting detail that the law firm is on the Fed’s radar and that an FBI agent, Harold Jenkins, has been planted; more interesting is that the head of the firm is aware of it. In an “eerie” coincidence, Harold will later be killed in a convenience store robbery.

Relationships at the firm become more complicated when Preston Rittenhouse, name partner, anoints Rex as the next partner instead of his own son. Hutch had virtually guaranteed his beautiful wife that he was assured of this partnership.  Not only will this be devastatingly embarrassing for him but will cast a pall over the black-tie charity event they will be hosting that evening.

Thom is nearly undone when he is caught with a stolen file on Logan revealing Logan as the co-conspirator turned prosecution witness in a murder long ago, the murder for which Andy Linus was convicted.  Finessing the situation, Thom is able to use the file to uncover the nuances of the old case.

Thom: Andy Linus was convicted in a felony criminal case in which Gibson was originally included as a codefendant but later re-categorized a witness. So are you going to finally tell me what this is about?

Hutch: Andy Linus was a kid from school.  He was the son of an administrator, a kid from the wrong side of the tracks who we barely knew and who never fit in. One night, I guess something snapped – jealousy, envy, resentment.  Who knows what was going thru this guy’s head. He killed a fourteen year old girl and left her body under a bridge.

Thom: Did he confess to the crime?

Rex: He didn’t need to confess. His blood and fingerprints were all over the crime scene. He was convicted. He was sentenced. End of story.

Thom: Is there a chance this scumbag Linus might resurface? Because if he does, our defense will be blown to  hell.

Rex: You don’t have to worry about Andy Linus showing up.

Thom: How can you be so sure?

Rex: Because Andy Linus is dead.

Moving ahead with the defense, Rex has located a security tape from the garage on the night the assault allegedly took place and plans on asking for a dismissal based on the tape.  Hutch strenuously objects because it could backfire; they could win just on the elements.  Rex, the new partner, disdainfully dismisses his friend’s concerns, further exacerbating their rift. Thom, however, discovers that Rex had been looking at the tape from a different floor and that the real tape reveals the assault in gory detail.  He surreptitiously substitutes the tapes and assures jail time for the Congressman.  Step Two has been accomplished, but there are still many more steps to go in his pursuit of justice and retribution.  Step Three is set in motion on the night of the charity event when he “re”-introduces himself to the love of his life, Clara, now the wife of Hutch.

No Meaner Place: Legal shows are the fodder of TV land and this one breaks out by combining internal mystery and suspense with the legal workings of a law firm and the courtroom.  The suspense is not whether Andy/Thom will be caught, because therein lies the 100 stories, but how he will achieve his goals and how elegantly he will be able to do it.  This is surely not “convict a partner a week,” as we’d soon run out of stories, but it is a marvelous platform for unveiling and unraveling the corrupt practices of power in an extremely interesting venue – Washington.

An additional hook is in the flashback, a technique that I generally don’t enjoy, that would serve to fill in more of the interesting details of how Andy Linus became Thom O’Daniel – an “Educating Rita” with a sinister side.  There is actually no limit to the back story with its shady mentor, Milan Dotheo.  And think of the locations – prison, Switzerland, Paris, law school, Washington. Revenge, reward, adultery, closeted homosexuality, duplicity, family dysfunction, justice; what more could you ask for?  Network or cable, it fills a lot of gaps.  Once again – what am I missing here?

Life Lessons for Writers:  If it was yours to sell in the first place, sell it again. Someone out there is just waiting for the opportunity to prove that the last regime made the wrong choices.

Conversation with the Writer:

Mills: I hadn’t looked at this script in a really long time when I got word that you wanted to write about it. I think the dialogue could have been better and maybe I could have made it a bit less confusing, but overall I think there’s a great show in there. So thanks for making me revisit it and thanks for expressing such confidence in it.

Neely: How did this project come about?

Mills: I had pitched something to Fox Studios and they liked it; but when they took the pitch out it was passed on in record time by 3 networks.  Fox gave me a blind script as part of their commitment and I wrote “The Associate” for them. It never got off the ground but it will come back to me in April.

Neely: Maybe they were worried about the 100 stories.

Mills: Don’t know.  I only took it to the 4 broadcast networks.  I should have taken it to cable.  I sort of soured on the whole process and went back to the feature world that I understood better.

Neely: The bar for good legal shows (that was a terrible pun, wasn’t it?) is quite high and you jumped over it with this one.  I saw the influence of traditional legal shows as well as films like “The Usual Suspects” and “Inside Man.”  What inspired you to write this one?

Mills: I had done an adaptation of a non-legal John Grisham book – Bleachers – which, coincidentally had a character named Neely.

Neely: Let me guess.  It was a boy and his full name was Cornelius.

Mills: Right! Anyway, I wanted to know more about Grisham’s writing, so I started reading his legal thrillers. I thought The Firm captured lightning in a bottle. Why not do The Firm for television? Around that time I was also considering doing The Count of Monte Cristo as a feature, and that became my primary influence.  Structurally, “The Associate” is more like The Count of Monte Cristo than The Firm.  It’s about someone who’s one person and then he’s wronged and comes back as a different person to take revenge.  I also knew I had to add a procedural element.

Neely: Besides the partners, who else will Thom avenge?  After all, he can’t always undermine the firm’s cases.  I also loved the possibilities of uncovering the circumstances of the FBI agent’s death as well as the juicy details of what was being investigated.

Mills: Actually I had 70 people on a bulletin board that Andy had made while he was in prison – judges, DAs, cops, wardens, and then leading up to the clients of the firm in DC, all of whom were complicit in sending him up or keeping him there.  This law firm has files on everyone, much like the mob controlled law firm in The Firm.  Andy/Thom is a mole.  But there is ambiguity because a lot of the people he thinks were wrong, weren’t.  There are shades of gray.  He’s judge and executioner and sometimes the lines aren’t so clear cut.

The “A” story would be about The Firm; the “B” story would be The Count of Monte Cristo.

Neely: Who was this written for? Did you get any good notes?

Mills: As I mentioned, this was part of a blind script deal.  Their main edict was that it had to be procedural with soapy elements.  I wasn’t comfortable with some of the soapy elements, like the father/son conflict; the closeted homosexual; the home life difficulties. I would like to make it a cable show and pull back on some of the soap.

Neely: How close did this come?  Any thought on trying again with it or putting it into a different medium – mystery/thriller novel or even feature film (where the odds are just a slim if not more so than television)?

Mills: The networks passed on it very quickly.  I didn’t understand the process.  You just sit by the phone and wait to hear if they bought it; unlike in features where you have some interaction with the potential buyers.  I have thought of making it a feature.

Neely: But if you made it a feature you’d have to tell the story linearly and that would take away one of the most interesting elements – the back and forth between Andy’s ongoing learning process and the present day with Thom.  With a novel you could weave back and forth in time and be allowed a more expansive expository style.

Mills: That’s true, but I’d like to think I could sell it as a modern take on The Count of Monte Cristo. As for a novel, that would take at least three years, but, yes, there’s a lot I could do.  One thing that really annoyed me about television was the 6 act structure.  I was always being told that I needed to have a POW element before cutting to commercial.  It seems so arbitrary.

Neely: How did you get started?  I noticed that before this, your whole career had been in features, starting as Richard Donner’s assistant.  Let’s talk a bit about your beginnings in the industry.  What was the first job you got in the industry?

Mills: Working for Richard Donner was my first job.  In college, I went on an overseas program called “Semester at Sea.”  Chris Silbermann, now one of the heads of ICM, was a classmate and his dad, a senior marketing executive at Columbia, got me the interview.  I didn’t know anything about anything and started as Donner’s third assistant, eventually graduating to producing some of his films.  I left in 2000 because I had written and directed an Indie called “A Gentlemen’s Game.”  Richard was very helpful to me and I had learned as much as I could.  It was time for me to be my own man, which he encouraged.

Neely: Working as a director/producer’s assistant is usually more the path for a producer.  What did you do for him and how did that lead you to writing.

Mills: Writing was always my chosen profession.  Working with Richard brought me into contact with some really talented writers like Brian Helgeland, Channing Gibson, Al Gough and Miles Millar.  Brian wrote “Conspiracy Theory” and I was a producer on it.  Channing, Al and Miles wrote “Lethal Weapon 4.”  I learned from them.

Neely: It was quite a long apprenticeship.  How did that first screenplay assignment come about?

Mills: When I left Donner it was to direct a film, and the only way I would be allowed to direct was if I wrote the script.  I found a wonderful novel called A Gentlemen’s Game and that was the start of my writing. It was financed through private equity.  I raised the money and made the movie.  Then I wrote a second script called “August and Everything After” that was supposed to be my second film.  The script was very well received but I still haven’t found the funding.  I just haven’t been able to put the whole thing together.   Annette Benning and Pierce Brosnan were interested in starring.  In any case it helped me get my agents.  It’s also when I realized that I needed a career and was able to get some writing assignments.  The Grisham book, Bleachers, was my first assignment and then I was well on my way making a living as a writer.

Neely: I noticed that you have quite a few scripts in development.  How many are on the cusp of production and what is in development hell.

Mills: “Wonderful Tonight” is pretty active and so is “Playing for Pizza,” another Grisham adaptation.  “Bleachers” is stalled because it was with Revolution Studios and it took quite a while to extricate it.  Phoenix Pictures is now trying to put it together.

Neely: Are you still interested in developing for television?

Mills: Yes.  I’ll just have to approach it differently.  I’ll definitely jump in this year. I think my writing has definitely improved since I wrote that draft – or at least I’d like to think that my writing is taking that arc. I’m glad you prodded me into reading “The Associate” again.  I know just how to do it better this time.

Neely: How do you view the writing process overall?

Mills: I’ve had a good run and I hope it will keep going.  I have real hopes for getting “Wonderful Tonight” off the ground.  Christine Jeffs has come on board to direct and we’ve had some great meetings. She did “Sunshine Cleaning.” I’ve written 14 or 15 drafts of “Wonderful Tonight.” There are some scenes I’ve gone over hundreds of times. I really love this piece.

Neely: So are you still in touch with Chris Silbermann?

Mills: We fell out of touch over the years but we’re going to reconnect soon.  I just got an email from another friend from the “Semester at Sea” who has proposed a reunion.  So it’s going to happen.  I think of Chris’ father so often; he was such a talented and generous man.

Neely: Let me know how it goes. Maybe there’s a script in this reunion.

Tomorrow I will be posting an article on Baseline Studio System entitled “Women Can’t Create and White Men Can’t Jump.” This year’s pilot season has been horrible for women writers.  Please read and let me know what you think.

http://www.blssresearch.com/research-wrap?detail/C7/women_cant_create_and_white_men_cant_jump

neely@nomeanerplace.com

January 27, 2010

“Self-love is the instrument of our preservation.” Voltaire

Eight Pieces for Josette by Kasi Lemmons

What: Saul Ressnicoff, one of the world’s great concert pianists led a conflicted life, one that his neglected but devoted daughter Edie challenges herself to unravel after his sudden death on stage during an encore at Carnegie Hall.

Who: Saul’s final choice of music for his encore at what would turn out to be his very last concert was a birthday present for his daughter and archivist Edie, 30.  Lyrical and sad, Edie is transported by a piece that she is unfamiliar with; she is unable to ask Saul about it for he has a heart attack on stage and dies.  At his funeral Edie spies a mysterious, beautiful black woman who disappears almost as quickly as she is noticed.  Soon after, Edie and her mother Lillian are informed by the family attorneys of a codicil to Saul’s will; a provision that bequeaths a set of music entitled “Eight Pieces for Josette” to a young woman, Sunday Eubanks, in New Orleans. This is a composition heretofore unknown by Edie and both the discovery of the music and the mystery of the bequest upsets Edie’s world enormously; as her father’s archivist, the only role in his life he allowed her, she had been certain that she knew all of his work. Upon further investigation, Edie discovers an unfinished letter among her father’s possessions:

Dear Sunny, we’ve come to a dangerous place.  I must put an end to this self-indulgent, wretched charade before it’s too late.  It’s not fair to you.  It’s not fair to my daughter.  Let me explain…

She also finds a handwritten manuscript entitled “The Josette Variations,” one of which she recognizes as the encore he was playing at the concert; wedged within the manuscript is a telegram and faded photograph. The photo is of a theatrically beautiful woman with dramatically white skin; the telegram reads:

Thursday the thirtieth – the evening bells – I’ll be waiting – Josette.

Edie sets out on a path of discovery and against all advice, she takes off for New Orleans to find out why her father would will something so valuable to the mysterious Sunday (Sunny) Eubanks, a woman she finds singing in a jazz club. Edie is determined both to discover her father’s relationship with Sunny and to prevent her from gaining control of the music manuscript.

Sunny, the mystery woman at the funeral, is no pushover and lets Edie know in no uncertain terms that she will fight.  Edie sends Sunny the manuscript, but also, discovering that her father had paid the rent on Sunny’s jazz club, immediately stops payment.  Still, Sunny will not give up and, upon Edie’s return trip to New Orleans, Edie discovers that, contrary to her previous belief, Sunny was not her father’s mistress; Edie decides she must dig deeper, gradually bonding with Sunny in the search for her connection to Saul and the elusive Josette; a trip that eventually takes them both to Paris.

No Meaner Place: In this feature film script, Lemmons has found a perfect mix of romanticism, character growth, and atmosphere traveling from the stage of Carnegie Hall to a sophisticated flat in Manhattan; from the French Quarter (written pre-Katrina) in New Orleans to Montmartre in Paris with classical music and jazz as a background.  Although it is apparent all too soon what the relationship between the girls is, it is the path of discovery that both travel that widens the sphere of this story and the layers of hardness and hurt that are gradually peeled revealing hidden beauty.  Their biological relationship is less important than the truths both eventually uncover about and within themselves.  The journey is the message and it is a journey well worth taking.

From a studio standpoint, and this was a script “in development” at Searchlight (where it should have found a perfect home if they had ever put it into active development) after being in turnaround from Warner Brothers, this is a small movie, very much an independent in a shrinking independent world.  Though the “independent” movie is becoming increasingly rare and a tough sell at a large or even midsize studio, this story has the possibility of expanding from the art house niche as it is both a self discovery “romance” and buddy road pic.  Lamentably it is a marketer’s world and this will hinge on the poster, but within the several themes, a strong “poster” and message will emerge.  Further, despite the locations, this would not be an expensive film to make, as I’m sure Lemmons has already outlined in her many dealings with both studios.  Her experience as writer/director on “Eve’s Bayou” and “Talk to Me” show that she is highly skilled at economically produced, well developed character films.

Life Lessons for Writers:  There is no expiration date in the features world, just a need for enormous patience and determination.

Conversation with the Writer:

Neely: I fell in love with your storytelling with “Eve’s Bayou” and have to admit that I’m slightly intimidated because there’s already a lot out there on you.  You started as an actress and have some impressive credits.  Do you still take acting jobs or are you now permanently behind the camera?

Kasi: I’m pretty much permanently behind the camera.  I’d take an acting job if a friend offered it or I was directing something and I thought I was perfect for the role.

Neely: Is there anything you would have liked to have done…a role that you’d like to have played?

Kasi: I don’t think about that anymore.  I just don’t think about being in front of the camera.  But I still act – I act out all the roles I write, I just act them out inside myself when I’m writing.  It’s part of my writing process.  Acting was my first love.  Now I get that emotional release when I’m writing characters.  As a director, I’m passionate about actors.

Neely: I was immediately intrigued when I saw that you were born in St. Louis, had roots in Louisiana and then moved to Boston.  We spent 10 years in St. Louis after college (Washington University) and my husband’s best friend Fred grew up in St. Louis and his wife, my best friend, had roots in Louisiana.  African American, they lived through segregation and desegregation in both locations.  As a child in St. Louis you would still have been living at the tail end of that era and moving to Boston wouldn’t have been a lot better because they had all those South Boston busing riots in the 70s.  What do you remember of your childhood in all three places?

Kasi: I feel as if I grew up in a place that would be called St. Louis Tuskegee, Alabama because I spent an extended amount of time with my grandmother in Alabama.  In St. Louis I was surrounded by black society and was really unaware of race in any distinct manner. My mother was a psychologist, she got her Master’s at Washington University, and my father was a biology teacher. That all changed when I moved to Boston with my mother after my parents’ divorce.  I remember the first time racism was mentioned was when my mother, who was going to Harvard for a PhD, tried to get an apartment in Boston and felt that they were using unfair housing practices to keep us out. I was the only black girl in my elementary school and it’s there that I had my first encounter with racism.  I had to fight it everyday. Going from no experience with racism in the cloistered St. Louis society to racism in Boston was shocking.  I ended up loving Boston, though, because my mother was much happier and I went to an incredible high school, Commonwealth, and made lots of life-long friends. I still feel very close to Boston; maybe because I had to fight so hard.

Neely: You discovered acting at the Boston Children’s Theater after moving to Boston.  Did it lead to a professional acting career or did that come later?

Kasi: I discovered a love of performing and became myself there.  My first job came about because of the Boston Children’s Theater when an agency called the theater on behalf of a local TV show.  They were looking for someone to play the first child to integrate a classroom in a daytime courtroom drama called “You’ve Got a Right.”  It was my first experience auditioning and I got the role.

Neely: You started out at NYU/Tisch and transferred to UCLA where you majored in history.  Has that background in history informed your work? Any particular time period of history?

Kasi: I left Tisch for UCLA because I wasn’t yet done with academics.  I was interested in history, which continues to inform my work as a writer.  I studied the French Revolution.  I was fascinated by the bloodiness of it; the storming of the Bastille; the massacres, the aftermath.  It wasn’t tidy.  There were waves of execution; it was horrible and bloody and righteous.  I then went back to New York on a grant to study at the Alvin Ailey School.  It was fabulous; I danced all day.  Ailey had a big impact on me.  I gained a huge appreciation for the aesthetics.  I was moved by the aspect of the beauty and the fleeting nature of it – using the body to make art; it truly shaped my aesthetic view of the world.

I continued acting in commercials and little theater before going back to school in film at the New School for Social Research.  I went there with an interest in directing and cinematography.  I was interested in the image.  I wanted to make documentaries but my first film broke the rules because I used a fictional voice-over.  This was the first time where I saw myself as a filmmaker, and so did others.  The Black Filmmaker Foundation gave me a screening of my first film.  I believe it was part of a series of shorts, and significant members of the film community attended.  Spike Lee was there.  After that, Spike would always ask me, “When are you going to do your your feature?”

All this time I continued acting to support myself and I started to get more important roles in television and the theater.  I got my supporting role in “Silence of the Lambs” when I was attending film school.

Neely: At what point did you start viewing yourself as a writer?

Kasi: I guess after film school.  I was writing the whole time. I wrote plays based on personal experience and I would write scenes for my friends to do in acting class.  A turning point occurred when I auditioned for the Cosby show. Boldly, I asked him to look at the film I had made.  He wasn’t interested but he did say he was looking for writers.  I immediately said “I’m a writer!” He gave me a week to write a scene between a married couple – he doesn’t want a kid; she does and she doesn’t know how to tell him she’s pregnant. Excited, I returned to give him my scene and he had completely forgotten about it, he wasn’t even there and had to be tracked down.  He told me to give it to his associate Matt Robinson who read it and recommended me.  On the basis of that scene I was hired by Cosby to work on a screenplay for him with two other playwrights, P.J. Gibson and Lee Harkens.  It was an incredible educational experience and Bill Cosby became a true mentor to me.

Neely: Were you tempted to act in “Eve’s Bayou?”  Which role would it have been?

Kasi: I wrote “Eve’s Bayou” for myself.  It was actually a combination of short stories that I had written that kind of coalesced into a story that kept telling itself in my head, complete with flashes of lightning.  When I started writing it, I didn’t know whether it was a novel, a play or a screenplay.  When I realized it was a screenplay, I realized I was writing the role of Mozelle for myself, figuring one day when I was old enough and my dresses were getting a little tight I’d be ready and I’d find someone to make the film and I’d play Mozelle.

Neely: How did you get the money for “Eve’s Bayou” and how long did it take – what was the process? Can that same process work for “Josette?”

Kasi: I wrote it and then showed it to Vondie (note: Kasi is married to the actor Vondie Curtis Hall) who was so moved that he insisted that I show it to my acting agent, who in turn gave it to Frank Wuliger who became my writing agent.  Frank thought it was doable so we started looking for a director to attach to it.  Frank also found me work as a writer and I wrote whole scripts in between my various writing jobs.  Then on the morning of my birthday I woke and I realized that I needed to direct it because I had written a delicate piece of material and the best way to protect it was to do it myself.

Once I decided to direct it, Frank hooked me up with Cotty Chubb (of the insurance family).  Cotty encouraged me to direct a short film called “Dr. Hugo” to show what I was trying to do, which he and Frank personally co-financed.  “Dr. Hugo” was festivaled and is on the DVD of “Eve’s Bayou.”  In “Dr. Hugo,” Vondie played a sexy doctor who pays a house call.  While a child waits outside, the doctor seduces the patient, the child’s mother. It functioned sort of like a pilot for “Eve’s Bayou” and was integral in getting me the directing job.  People really responded.  In going for financing we sent around a package that included the short film and the “Eve’s Bayou” script.  Sam Jackson read the script and wanted to be that sexy doctor.  When Sam came on board, he was the ammunition to get Tri Mark to make the film.

Neely: I ask because it seems as if the environment has changed considerably in the case of independent features.  “Eve’s Bayou” successfully crossed over to all audiences and age groups because of its universal family function/dysfunction dynamic. “Eight Pieces for Josette” is almost mainstream compared to the quasi spiritual voodoo that rests at the soul of “Eve’s Bayou,” and yet I suspect that finding the financing and distribution for this beautiful film has been more difficult.

Kasi: It has been really difficult.  It would take the right combination of actresses.  So many have expressed a deep love for the script but I still can’t get it made.  I wanted Halle Berry to do it.  I could also imagine Thandie (Newton) and Nicole Kidman; or Halle and Naomi Watts; Halle and Julianne Moore.  It was a reflection on a different time. I thought it would be interesting to have two women who were paralyzed by not knowing their parents’ history.  Josette is set in the present, but circumstances cause the two leads to reflect on the generation before, the generation of their parents, which at the time I wrote it was the late sixties. A very romantic era in Paris.  As time went by, I realized it would have to be the seventies.  That’s cool too.  I always imagined the actresses in their thirties, so that would work.  But if I don’t get the film made soon, then they’re going to be reflecting back on the eighties. I suppose the eighties in Paris were romantic…but it’s not the same.  So I need to get it made soon.

Neely: I loved your view of Paris.  I so love Paris, its history, its warmth, its people (yes, I did say that), its language, its everything.  I’d kill to work there on location someday.  You know the character of Coco de Crécy in “Eight Pieces for Josette” triggered memories.  There was a star dancer/singer in one of the famous Parisian music halls in the 70s who was called the “new Josephine Baker” and it drove me crazy trying to remember who she was.  I did everything I could think of; finally I emailed a French cousin and she did the research (because she couldn’t remember either) and came up with the name.  It was Lisette Malidor.  She was from Martinique and she was discovered selling programs at the Casino de Paris by the famous French choreographer Roland Petit.  He created the show at the Casino de Paris where his wife Zizi Jeanmaire, a famous ballerina, was headlining and he put Lisette in the chorus.  Within a couple of years she replaced Zizi and was the toast of Paris, eventually headlining also at the Moulin Rouge and the Folies Bergère.  Performing nude bothered her at the beginning but she eventually came to understand this quote from Josephine Baker, “I wasn’t really naked. I simply didn’t have any clothes on.”

Kasi: I had never heard of her until you sent me the information!

Neely: One of the things I like best about your stories is the palpable atmosphere.  In “Eve’s Bayou” one could feel the thickness and humidity.  In “Eight Pieces for Josette” it starts out chilly in the rarified and sterile air of an aesthete Manhattan contrasted with raucous, disheveled and smoky New Orleans, the contrast of black and white, so to speak; and ending with the freer, warmer, environment of Paris where it still seems as if all things are possible and accepted.  How do you do that?!

Kasi: I don’t know.  I’m very familiar with the three places.  It’s intentionally a very romantic view of Paris.  I compare the story to opening a beautiful box of old jewelry. I’ve written about twenty scripts, some more atmospheric than the others, but all share the theme of “crossed boundaries.” I like to write about the grey areas of humanity; no one’s all good or bad – not completely heroic and not completely villainous; good people behaving badly.  I’ve written only one totally villainous character because I couldn’t find any redeeming qualities – Bull Connor.

I recently spent 6 weeks in Paris working on the screenplay for a project called “Strangers in Paris” under the auspices of a program called “Autumn Stories” that was co-sponsored and co-financed by the WGA, SASEM and the Ile de France Film Commission.  They select four established writers with screenplays that take place in Ile de France and put us up in an Abbey outside of Paris and help us research our subjects.  My family was able to join me for the last week of my stay.  Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to work on “Eight Pieces for Josette” under the same circumstances.

Neely: You also directed and did a rewrite of “Talk to Me.”  What kind of changes did you make to the original script, or rather, where in the process did you enter? How much of your rewrite appears on screen and how did the final writing credits read?

Kasi: I came on first as a writer but didn’t receive screen credit.  The script was already well framed and I loved the project.  My entrée into the project was strictly as a writer.

Neely: Your talent for casting is amazing.  “Eve’s Bayou” is a veritable who’s who of African American actors.  In “Talk to Me” you had the incomparable Don Cheadle, but you also cast one of my very favorite under the radar great actors – Chiwetal Ejiofor.  How did that directing assignment come about?

Kasi: After I came on board as a writer and fell in love with the project, I fought for that directing assignment.  I love Chiwetal.  Another actor had been chosen for that part but he fell out because of the deal and then the movie fell apart.  Months later when Don was still on board, Chiwetal was on a short list to play Dewey Hughes.  We got a great call from his agent saying that Chiwetal, who was in New York, was willing to meet us on his way back to London.

Neely: Interesting sense of direction.

Kasi: I know.  So he came in and Don read with him on the spur of the moment.  The chemistry was instantaneous and that was it.  He was our Dewey!

Neely: Did you know that you had three Kelley series regular alums in “Talk to Me” – Don Cheadle (“Picket Fences”), Vondie Curtis Hall (“Chicago Hope”) and Taraji P. Henson (“Boston Legal”)?

Kasi: I’d never thought of it before.  All three are amazing.

Neely: Do you still write plays?

Kasi: Not in a long time, but I have an idea I’d like to pursue. I have lots more ideas than time.

Neely: We already spoke of casting hopes for “Eight Pieces for Josette”, which leads to a related question – do you ever write characters with certain actors in mind?

Kasi: As a final note on the casting of “Josette,” when I get it made it will depend on who will be the right age at the time. It’s age-specific.  Fox Searchlight came close to making it but now it’s mine again.  I will make it.

Neely: When I googled you one of the sites that came up was “Who is Kasi Lemmons dating?”  You’ll be happy to hear that the only picture that popped up was your husband Vondie Curtis Hall.  Both you and Vondie have cast each other in small roles in the films you’ve written and directed.  Who is he going to play in “Eight Pieces for Josette?”

Kasi: I need to correct you on that because I’ve given Vondie significant roles in my previous films. I’m not sure he’s in this one.  Maybe at the beginning he was Buzz.  We’ll see.

Neely: You were out scouting locations last week for your new directing project.  What is it and how far along are you?

Kasi: It was for an HBO film on the Duke Lacrosse case.  I’m directing it.  We’re at the point of making up lists of potential casting choices.  Filming will start in April if everything goes according to plan.

Neely: I can’t wait to see it and hope that I won’t have to wait much longer for “Eight Pieces for Josette”.

January 20, 2010

“It is no use saying, ‘We are doing our best.’ You have got to succeed in doing what is necessary.” – Winston Churchill

King of the Road by Michael Oates Palmer

What: Detroit is undergoing a retrenchment crisis and Baker Motors will go under if drastic measures aren’t taken.

Who: A cancer is growing in the Detroit headquarters of the nearly insolvent Baker Motors, aspirant to big three status.  When alcoholic reviled General Manager Ed Thornhill becomes road kill in an accident because of his abhorrence of seatbelts, the shambles of poor production, bad book keeping, cost overruns, labor unrest and general disharmony becomes undeniable and the Old Man, as the CEO is known,  appoints an outsider, the Ivy League-educated, Robert McNamara look-alike, Dick Pratt, appointed over pretty boy, company-culture drenched Baker Motors lifer Jack Mileski. Jack, the best cheerleader Baker Motors could ever hope for is blindsided by the Old Man’s disloyalty and will stop at nothing to undermine and destroy Pratt.  Pratt, an outsider in every manner of speaking, still clings to his intellectual life in Ann Arbor with his political activist wife and autistic son.  Jack, on the other hand, revels in the trappings of success with his big house, beautiful, bored wife and angry teenage son.  For trappings are what they are – symbols of success – to show off but not necessarily care for.  His celebration with the family at the local country club on the evening before Thornhill’s funeral was, to say the least, premature.  His solace is taken at the home of Cassie, the beautiful young African American Baker Motors cafeteria waitress.  There is a familiarity between them that speaks of a long term secret relationship involving a “love child.”  Ellen, Jack’s wife, bored out of her mind with Jack and her life in suburbia has her own extra-curricular activities with Cliff.  There “solace” is carried out in low rent hourly motel rooms – delicious, illicit sex and nothing but.

Jack’s true love is cars – Baker Motors’ cars and especially his new baby, the Mariah; and it’s all personal because he has already promised the assembly line that they will continue with its production and that production will be nowhere but in Detroit.  Dick Pratt, however, has other ideas and this is where a battle of Shakespearean proportions will play out between them because Dick Pratt is not a car person, he’s a money person and after going over the books, he realizes that the situation is worse than even he imagined. The sloppy bookkeeping reeks of fraud:

Pratt: You are the Vice President in charge of assembly.  How much did it cost to assemble each Renata coupe?

Humphries: How much do you want it to cost?

Pratt: I think you misunderstood.  I’m not talking about our goals for the future. I’m just asking what it’s cost in the past.

Humphries: And I’m saying to you. For the purposes of your accounting. You tell me how much you want it to have cost. And I’ll give you that number.

In order to right the company drastic measures will have to be taken and he may have to move operations out of Detroit, cut production, cut jobs, and certainly cut the Mariah.  Knowing that his pet project is on the line, Jack informs Cliff, his close friend and chief stylist of Baker Motors, that he must find a way to cut design costs on the Mariah. Cliff, believing that the company’s fortunes rest with designing a car similar to the VW Bug, resists until:

Jack: You’ve been sleeping with Ellen for ten months.

Cliff: You’re crazy.

Jack: Don’t do that. Give me a little credit. That I know what’s been going on. You’re wondering, how long has he known? Since it began.  Since you had the idea of it in a drunk daydream. I’ve let it go on as long as I have. Not for her sake. Or mine. But for yours.

Cliff: My sake?

Jack: I need you on top of your game. I know the women, they always help you with that. Remember the six months, years ago, when you got religion? When you didn’t drink? Didn’t screw? You turned in the worst work of your fucking career. (beat, then) You’ll never commit to any of them, buddy. I’d rather my wife be with you, than some guy who might actually try to take her away.

Jack walks over to Cliff.

Jack: The Mariah can save this company, Cliff.

Cliff, annihilated by this conversation, barely manages to speak.

Jack, looking for more angles, discovers that Dick’s departure from Ford was precipitated by mental issues and begins to look for ways to use this capital to his advantage beginning with undermining Dick’s fragile family.  At Jack’s urging, the Old Man forces Dick to move his family from their home and friends in Ann Arbor to the tony, acquisitive suburbs of Detroit; he then torpedoes Dick’s plans to scrap the Mariah and move part of production to Arkansas.  The only concession is that Dick will be allowed to consolidate production in Detroit, closing one plant and throwing hundreds out of work.  Jack has won this battle but the war is far from over as his lieutenants, tiring of his autocratic leadership, slowly start to defect to Dick.

A resonance with today’s difficulties in the automotive industry?  You betcha! Except this is 1966.

No Meaner Place: Is this Pulitzer Prize winning material?  No, of course not.  This is a great big juicy soap opera and what the world needs every so often is a great big juicy soap opera where everyone is sleeping with everyone else and tensions abound and villains wear black hats and the setting is something we all understand.  Although clearly influenced by the “Mad Men” phenomenon, which may have been viewed as an impediment, there should still be room for a period piece that has clear resonance to today’s troubled times in Detroit (or at least what’s left of it).

American Motors, troubled in the 60s, did last into the 70s with a car that saved it from the grim reaper for a few years – the Gremlin, a joke punch line that predated the move to compact cars at GM, Ford and Chrysler.  It would have been fun to follow the making of that car and the eventual dissolution of the company, again predating the troubles of today.

Where would this go?  Who cares?  The characters are fun, the setting is familiar and written in such a way as to limit production costs – hell, Michigan is looking to fund series and features that would come to Detroit and use the abandoned automotive facilities still standing. AH!  To return to an era of conspicuous consumption, haves and have-nots, hypocrisy, financial mayhem, creative accounting, war protests, campus unrest, labor union strife, and a president with a funny name who has a clear domestic agenda and a very flawed foreign policy.

Life Lessons for Writers:  Altogether now – NBC, a company living out its own soap opera.

Conversation with the Writer:

Neely: I’ve actually been aware of your writing since 2003 when I read your spec pilot entitled “Gracie Mansion” when you were a staff writer on “West Wing.”  I vaguely remember that one of the things you brought to the table was a background in politics.  Is that correct?

Michael: Yes.  It’s really a family background thing.  I was steeped in politics at an early age.  My maternal grandfather was president of a Teamsters’ Local in Philly; he was a dyed in the wool Democrat.  My paternal grandfather got involved with left-wing politics in California; I guess you could say he was something of a Socialist.  He went to Berkeley with the guys involved in the Manhattan Project; his degree was in engineering.  His Socialist background kept him off the oil rigs he was trained to work on because he couldn’t get a security clearance so he ended up working at a meat packing plant as a renderer – it was as bad as it sounds.  My mother dropped out of Penn to be a political reporter in the 60s at UPI.  After she left UPI she became the deputy press secretary to Eugene McCarthy during his ’68 Presidential campaign.  She met my dad at Berkeley when he was student body president from ’68-’69.  Later he was the head of another student organization that got him on Nixon’s Enemies List.  Dad went to Yale for law school and Mom went to Yale for Divinity School.  They were there with both Clintons – they were supposedly on the Clintons’ first double date — and I have this great picture of the four of them where you either go “Wow! Look at Bill Clinton’s hair!” or you go “Where on earth did your mom get those boots?”  My parents divorced in 1981, and they shared custody; it was all very civilized and everyone got along.  My mom married my stepdad, Bob Shrum, in 1987.  Bob had a big career in politics, first as a speechwriter for George McGovern and Ted Kennedy and then later as John Kerry’s chief strategist.

I never really wanted to get involved in politics because I’d already seen behind the curtain; I wanted to work in film and TV and went to AFI toward that goal.  But when I first tried to land a TV writing job in 2001, there was talk of a writers’ strike and all the jobs dried up. So I went back east to New York for a job as a speech writer for Mark Green who was running for mayor.  It was a great job for a writer.  I went from writing speeches about reforming trash collection, and then 9/11 happened, and suddenly I was writing a eulogy for the fire chaplain who was killed.  I came back to LA after Mark lost the election to Bloomberg and I landed a staff writing job on “The West Wing.”

Neely: You’ve come a long way as a writer as far as I’m concerned.  You’ve always leaned toward soap opera, first with “Gracie Mansion,” then with “Gonzo,” and now with “King of the Road.”  With each pilot you’ve dug deeper and fleshed out your characters more so that now you’ve reached a point where there is depth in both the situation and the characters.

Michael: Well, you always hope that’s the arc your writing will take.

Neely: I remember that Margaret Nagle was somewhat taken aback when I referred to “The Eastmans” as a soap opera, but quite honestly any character-based series with a serial thru-line is, at the root of it, a soap opera.  Any comments? Agree? Disagree?

Michael: Fundamentally, I guess I agree, although writers recoil from the term, because it brings to mind Linda Evans and Joan Collins in a cat fight.  I prefer the phrase “character-oriented drama.”  I always loved the work of Zwick/Herskovitz on “thirtysomething;” and Josh Brand and John Falsey’s shows “Northern Exposure” and “I’ll Fly Away.” “Homicide” was an ensemble show with serialized character arcs, so that was, in its own way, a soap opera, too.  They made me want to write for TV.  “The Sopranos,” “Six Feet Under,” “The Shield,” even, to a certain extent “The Wire” all fit into that rubric.

There’s an art to writing a good “Law and Order.”  Plot is hard and a good mystery plot is hardest. But I was a character writer who kept getting put on procedurals and it wasn’t a good fit.  In character dramas, you’re less interested in the process of the job, and more in how the job affects the characters and how the other characters affect the characters. Luckily things have opened up a bit since 2003 when it seemed like everything was a procedural.

When my producing partner on “King of the Road,” Laverne McKinnon, and I took it out there, eventually selling it to Showtime, we embraced the term soap opera.  We thought of it as a Trojan Horse – emphasize the salacious, sexy soap opera parts of the show to sell it, so that we could also explore themes that might at first glance seem more cerebral or intellectual. FX specializes in male-oriented soaps. The audience loves these shows as long as they are set in interesting surroundings.  You know, legal shows and medical shows don’t work if there’s not a courtroom or an ER.  There has to be a place for them to connect. I’ve always been drawn to ensembles.

Neely: Your rise has been steady since the “West Wing” with a heavy dose of legal – “Blind Justice” and “Shark” with a dose of whimsy in “Cupid.”

Michael: I feel as if there have been setbacks and strong years. But the biggest setbacks have led to even bigger opportunities.  I wrote “Gracie Mansion” as a spec after losing my job on “West Wing” when Aaron Sorkin left the show and the new regime arrived.  The first good thing that happened with that script is that it brought me new representation with Ann Blanchard and Lanny Noveck, then at William Morris.  I’d been unemployed for a year and they sent the script to Steven Bochco who hired me on his new show “Blind Justice.”

I liked working on my next show, “In Justice.” There are writers who do well when they are motivated by the fear of disappointing the angry parent.  I always did better wanting to please the good parent.  Every writer has been in the position of needing help in the beginning and it wasn’t until “In Justice” that someone took that kind of interest in me – Jeff Melvoin (“Picket Fences,” “Northern Exposure,” “Alias”) who was running the room on the show.  Also at about this time, Lanny knew I could use a big brother figure.  He said, “There’s a client of mine I’d like you to meet.” “Is he running a show?” I asked. “Not right now.  His name is Robert Nathan (“Law & Order,” “SVU,” “CI”).” He just thought we’d hit it off. Robert and I had lunch together – a lunch that went on for three hours; I felt I’d known him forever and realized I’d made a friend for life.  Both Robert and Jeff were and are so generous with their time and spirit, and were patient with a young writer’s arrogance and entitlement – it made a huge impact. I like meeting other writers with experience. I’m always going to do better with a grownup than a 32 year old comic book guy.

My next job was on “Shark,” but like most of the other procedurals, this one didn’t play to my strengths. Losing my job on “Shark” opened up the door to development and I sold three pilots in two years.  This led to my being considered for shows that were better fits.  I loved working on “Cupid,” Rob Thomas’s series where I also got to work with Jill Gordon (“The Wonder Years”), Cindy Chupack (“Sex and the City”) and Diane Ruggiero (“Veronica Mars”).  There is a quote by Tolstoy that reminds me of most writers’ rooms – “All happy families resemble one another; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”  This was a happy writers’ room; no one on “Cupid” was Machiavellian; it was pretty douchebag-free.

Neely: You came close on your pilot called “Gonzo.”  Where did you shop this one and what kinds of comments did you get?

Michael: This was a pilot I wrote on spec at the end of “In Justice.”  It was a pilot about war correspondents in Central America in the early 80s that I did as a writing sample, but Ann and Lanny sent it to a couple of executives at two small production companies.  One of the companies had a deal with Touchstone so an executive named Dan Pipski at Live Planet, the Matt Damon/Ben Affleck company, sent it over to what’s now called ABC Studios.  But ABC Studios was developing a war correspondent pilot with Shonda Rhimes so they couldn’t do it.  It then went to Adelstein-Parouse, who sold it to 20th Century Fox’s television studio.  But 20th didn’t feel it could work on network television.  Meanwhile, Scott Pennington, another exec then at Touchstone, saw that AMC was doing the “Mad Men” pilot and out of the blue just sent it to Christina Wayne, then at AMC in New York.  She loved it and wanted to do it.  At that same time, 20th released “Gonzo,” turning their deal for it into a blind script deal, allowing “Gonzo” to go to AMC.  Unfortunately, a year later, there was a change in regime and the new execs didn’t respond to it.  “Gonzo” originally arriving at ABC Studios changed my career.  That Scott Pennington would like it enough to send it somewhere he thought it might fit, to an executive he’d never even met, still blows me away.  As an interesting side note, a few years later I was at ABC Family to meet with an exec who was unavailable so they asked if I might be able to talk to someone in her place.  That someone was Scott Pennington, and I finally got a chance to say thank you.

Neely: Why did this topic – Detroit and the automotive industry – resonate with you.  It must have taken a lot of research.

Michael: Research is the fun part. I was a history major at Brown, and my honors thesis was about Congress going after rock ‘n roll in the 50s. My thesis advisor, Howard Chudacoff, one of the great urban historians, was a great influence.  For me, the best part of development is reading books.  With “King of the Road,” I was totally into baseball until I was 13, then and ever after it was rock ‘n roll — I was never that guy with posters of cars on the wall.  But a few years ago I was watching Errol Morris’ documentary “The Fog of War” about Robert McNamara, who before he was Secretary of Defense was one of the “whiz kids” that saved Ford Motors. Here was a guy who thought he could solve and explain everything with numbers.  That was a character I wanted to delve into.  I wanted to explore an America that used to make things and how when we lost that, we lost something essential. I wanted to explore how men work together and how they fight.  And how the worst wars sometimes don’t have a single drop of blood shed.  This was an “art vs. commerce” story – there were men who were first and foremost about the cars, and there were men who were instead, like McNamara, all about the company.  We’d already seen so many shows and movies about the late 60s, all focusing on the counter culture.  I wanted to go from blue collar to elite, go from Johnson to Nixon. It was a fantastic sandbox to play in.

I spent a year researching King of the Road, in part because I had two other pilots that were both still alive at AMC and ABC.  Once the AMC one, “Gonzo,” died, Laverne McKinnon, who was working as the TV producer for director Mike Newell (”Four Weddings and a Funeral,” “Donnie Brasco,” “Harry Potter 4″)  and I pitched it to FX, HBO, and Showtime.  FX liked it, but passed due to fear of “Mad Men” similarities; HBO passed; and Showtime bought it.

Showtime had a very high-class problem: all of their shows on the air were working for them. This meant they had little in the way of needs — as evidenced by their not ordering to series any of the four pilots they had produced in 2009, including projects with prominent talent involved (a Peter Tolan pilot starring Matthew Perry, another project produced by Jenji Kohan, and a pilot directed by Tim Robbins). Out of thirty or so pilot scripts, they ended up only ordering one to be produced, a half-hour about cancer with Laura Linney attached, which was recently ordered to series.  Gary Levine and Danielle Gelbar at Showtime were very supportive of our project and took a chance on it, but the concern that FX had proved to be the concern that Showtime had — even though we felt there were real differences between this and “Mad Men,” it was still a show about men doing business in the 1960s.

It also probably lacked enough of what has become Showtime’s brand in recent years — a high concept with a jaw-dropping twist.  ”Weeds” is about a soccer mom… who becomes a drug dealer.  ”Dexter” is about a serial killer… who works for the Miami police department.  ”Californication” is about a sex addict… who loves his wife. Laverne and I tried to frame “King of the Road” in a similar way — “it’s a show about war… in the battlefield of American business,” but in the end, it might have been a show better suited for HBO or FX.

Neely: Brands change and shows go off the air, so maybe there’s hope. You’re absolutely right about how interesting the history is and maybe someone will revisit. There was just so much to tap into.  While I was trying to fill in some of the gaps I discovered the blood bath in the Fifties between Hudson, Nash, Packard and Studebaker and that George W. Romney, the former presidential candidate’s father, headed Nash Studebaker before becoming Governor of Michigan – yet another confluence of the two eras.

Michael: Well, in a way it was also a family influence that led me to this story.  When I was a kid, my Grandfather Ray, the Teamster organizer, would drive me around the industrial part of Philly and show me all the boarded up warehouses and point to one of them and say “Dead;” then to another and say “dead; and so on, many many times. I remember going through Trenton, NJ and there was this big sign that said “Trenton Makes. America Takes.” That world doesn’t exist anymore.  First there was the manufacturing in the Rust Belt; then it was moved to the so-called “right-to-work” South; and then everything was moved overseas.  We no longer Make.

Neely: I noticed that you are now working on “Rubicon” for AMC.

Michael: “Rubicon” is the show that beat out “Gonzo” in the production derby.  I’m working with some great writers on that show and am looking forward to seeing how it all turns out.

Neely: I noticed that Henry Bromell, who worked for many years on one of your favorites, “Homicide,” is the showrunner.  Please say hello to him for me.

January 12, 2010

“In those big floppy shoes and baggy pants, Bongo really should have assumed running for safety was a long shot.” – Shayne-Michael.com

Filed under: Conversations With, Feature Films — Tags: , , , — Neely Swanson @ 10:55 am

Bullsh*t by Ben Murray

What: “Gorgeous” Gordon Lippick was the hottest commodity on the bull riding rodeo circuit until he rode “Furious George,” the biggest meanest ugliest bull and crashed out of the money.  Years later Gorgeous is an alcoholic foul-mouthed rodeo clown bent on revenging himself on the long missing Furious.

Who: Once the handsomest, sexiest, most talented bull rider in the world, Gorgeous Gordon Lippick is now no more than a joke; a foul-mouthed, foul smelling, dirt poor falling-down drunk rodeo clown.  His rung on the ladder is so low it’s subterranean. Still haunted by nightmares of his humiliating downfall on Furious George, the bull with only one cloven hoof, when he crashed into a fence and slashed his leg, he dreams of nothing but finding the bull and killing it.  Still all attempts at locating the bull have failed.  Miserable sod that he is, Gordon thinks nothing of screwing everyone in sight in order to get the information he wants.

A kid comes up to him.

Kid: Hey mister! Mister Gorgeous!

Gorgeous: Fuck you want?

Kid: I got you what you asked for.

He hands him a six pack of Genessee.

Gorgeous: Oh. Good work. You find the other thing?

Kid: Yup.

Gorgeous: Up front? You kidding?

The kid shakes his head, “no.” Gorgeous roots around in his pockets, comes out with a Band-aid, some Tums, a dollar and a mint.  He hands it to the kid.

Kid: That’s it?

Gorgeous: Actually I need the Tums.

Kid: A dollar?

Gorgeous: What are you, buying a Lexus?  You’ll get it. What do you got?

Kid: I saw it – a round hoof with no dent in it. My friend Joey showed me.

Gorgeous: Are you completely certain?

The kid nods and Gorgeous laboriously rises, favoring one leg.  He takes a blue pill, swallows it with beer.

Kid: Why is you leg hurt?  Did a bull stab you with its horn?

Gorgeous: No, it shot me with a crossbow, douchebag. Now c’mon, show me.

False trail, this time it was a horse, follows false trail, next time a droopy cow, all the while Gorgeous finds new ways to piss off everyone.

INT. THE RODEO RING –NIGHT

Gorgeous lurches forward wasted.  As he gets to the center, a bull and rider erupt from the chute and charge toward him…The bull…charges for Gorgeous, who runs for his life.  He barely escapes as the bull runs out.  Gorgeous pants, feels something rising in his gut.  He staggers to a barrel and PUKES into it in one great heave.  He stands up, relieved, and then another clown stands – the one in the barrel.

Gorgeous does, however, have one fan – “Tupelo” Tom Cody, a young wannabe cowboy who, despite the abuse, believes that Gorgeous can help him get a spot on the circuit.  Soon he has another one when he passes out in a corral.

He moves to get up and she grabs him by the arm to help.

Bobbie Joe: Easy. Just thought you might want a little help.

Gorgeous: Yeah well I don’t. I don’t need help from…

Bobbie Joe: Bobbie Joe Slayton.

Gorgeous: From you or any other lesbian, Bobbie Joe Slayton.  In fact, I’m tired of people offering me things. Next person offers me something, I’m going to tear out their goddam liver, take a big bite, then wipe my ass with the rest of it, got it?

Bobbie Joe: I just thought you might want these.

Gorgeous: What?

He looks around, realizes he’s in the corral for the children’s pony rides – in just his skivvies.  Around him is a ring of shocked parents and toddlers.

Gorgeous: Oh.

Bobbie Joe wants to break the barrier and become the first female bull rider and she needs Gorgeous’ help to do this.  In return she will help him locate Furious.  Progress is made.

No Meaner Place: “Bullsh*t” was Murray’s thesis script at the USC School of Cinema in the MFA writing program for which he received distinction from his thesis professor, Howard Rodman, a well respected screenwriter most recently nominated for an Independent Spirit Award for “Savage Grace.”  Murray was one of my students in “The Entertainment Industry Seminar” in 2008. Following the end of the semester I was approached by several of the students to read their scripts and give them notes, which I did for everyone…everyone but Ben.  I had no notes to give him.  I loved this story from the first page to the last.  Everytime it looked like this profane adventure was going to go in a conventional direction along came a twist and off it went in a different direction.  Every time it seemed that redemption was around the corner, Murray stayed true to his character’s nature.  Gorgeous is, for all practical purposes, unredeemable but not bad.  Certainly he’s no “hooker with a heart of gold,” but neither is he The Devil, just a devil.  Bad things have happened and been done to him.

Never has profanity been used more creatively and the situations are filled with pratfalls and slapstick although veering toward the violent but to hilarious effect yielding a true cinematic vision.  He has created three dimensional, delightfully down and dirty characters that any actor would relish.  Will Ferrell was born to play this derelict.

Amazingly, there has been very little interest in the screenplay.  It has been optioned by a small production company, for which he is very grateful; but this is a large summer-scale movie and deserves studio backing, as well as interest from a first tier agency.

Life Lessons for Writers:  Sometimes when you’re right you have to wait until they figure it out; and with features it’s all about the waiting.

Conversation with the Writer:

Neely: As previously noted, Ben was one of my students at the USC School of Cinematic Arts, and like all of his classmates was required to write either a feature or a pilot as his Masters Thesis project.  “Bullsh*t” was that thesis, receiving distinction from Howard Rodman.  What everyone needs to know about Ben is that he’s actually quite mild mannered, extremely polite, and quite deferential (or at least that’s how he is to his professors…).  He even warned me about the profanity before I read the script (so obviously he knows the real me as much as I know the real him).  So, Ben… Where the hell did this come from?

Ben: Well, from two different places, I guess.  I covered some rodeo for a tiny newspaper in Colorado.  They wanted a different angle and I decided to write about the bulls and the breeders as a way into the cowboys.  These are very small regional rodeos with cowboys hoping to move up to the bigger leagues.  Three are maybe a dozen competitors with an audience that numbers in the hundreds.  When it came to writing my script, I wanted to stick to something that would stand out in this crappy rodeo circuit.  Originally it was going to be the story of a girl making it in rodeo but then because of my own profane tendencies the story of the clown came in and then took over.  ‘What would be an obsession for the clown to have?’ and it developed into the idea of the clown assassinating a bull.

Neely: Like most of the MFA students you had a career before going back to school.  Please describe your trajectory from college to grad school.

Ben: I majored in journalism at a school no one has heard of called St. Michaels in Vermont because I thought it was one way to satisfy my need to travel.  Immediately after school I boarded a plane and got out in the town of Sitka, Alaska for a job that had already been set up for me.  It was actually more of an internship than a job covering community news – city council, school boards, fishing competitions, and bear stalkings – reports of bears stalking people in the woods.  Sitka was on an island of 10 miles of dead end roads that was over-populated with bears.  After 6 months I flew to Boston to work for monster.com which was quite hip at the time.  It drove me crazy for a year where I wrote articles about jobs and interviews.  But then I read this piece about someone working in Antarctica and I had to go.  I fought hard to get any kind of a job there and I ended up as a janitor at McMurto Station for 6 months. I tried to put some of those experiences in the pilot that you read; but I’ve tabled it for now. Then I came back and floated between Boston and Alaska before getting the job in Colorado.  Eventually I ended up with a job in Europe, primarily England and Germany, where I covered the U.S. military.  It was an amazing job, covering the military overseas which included a stint covering combat in Iraq for 7 weeks.

Neely: What was your impetus for going back to grad school?

Ben: I was stationed in Bavaria.  It was very isolated, very German and very depressing and I decided that maybe I should go back to school.  As I had flirted with film in college, applying to film school was the only thing I really wanted to try so I sent one application only (to USC) with the idea that if it hits, I’ll give it a ride.

Neely: You are at the beginning of your career, the first “breaking in” part, as Phoef Sutton might have described it.  What have you been doing since graduation?  How are you keeping a food on the table?

Ben: My day job is writing articles about social issues for the social-action website of Participant Media.  They were producers on “Good Night and Good Luck,” “Syriana,” and “An Inconvenient Truth.”  It’s not scintillating work but it keeps a roof over my head.

Neely: What kind of meetings did you get out of “Bullsh*t?  Anybody get offended?

Ben: Actually they’ve been few and far between, mainly with managers who liked the script and wanted a general meeting.  I sent it out a lot.  Some responded that “it was a bit strong for their taste,” but no one came out and said they were offended.  I got a couple of follow-up meetings but so far no real nibbles for representation.

Neely: How were you able to get it out there?

Ben: The big hook was the USC script list.  USC sends the list all over town and I got a lot of requests from that as well as requests from my meetings at “First Pitch.”  Howard Rodman was a big supporter and handed it to Stuart Cornfeld at Red Hour Films, and that led to an informal meeting on the set of his latest pilot.

Neely: Well, even though it didn’t go anywhere with him, you never know.  Everything in Hollywood has a long gestation period. I understand it’s been optioned by Andrew Lauren who produced the “Squid and the Whale.”  Any idea where he plans on taking it?

Ben: They do smaller financing but they’d like to step up a bit with a bigger budget.  They’d like to attach some actors before going out for more money.  They want to put together an attractive package before going to the next phase.

Neely: What has the development process been like?  What about the notes?

Ben: The option was predicated on their original notes which were some pretty good character notes.  They wanted to flesh out the villain so he wasn’t just a “black hat” and develop Gorgeous’ side kick a bit more, give them more dimension.  They also wanted more of a rooting interest for Gorgeous; to get the audience on his side quicker, which is tricky because you don’t want to make him really likable.  Since then it’s been variations on those scenes.  They wanted to eliminate the Gorgeous love story (note: this arc was not mentioned in the above synopsis) which, while psychologically difficult for me did end up opening up the room to further develop the other characters.

Neely: What about the development process when you were writing the script for class?

Ben: There was a scene that I absolutely loved that I had to drop.  I still think about it, it was so vivid and I was desperate to make it work.  This cowboy, one of the secondary villains, had a hormone condition that gave him absolutely perfect breasts and I had a sequence where Gorgeous was trying to deal with the cowboy while he was pumping his breasts.  I loved the imagery but sadly it’s for a different film.  It was way too over the top and I didn’t discover that until I did a cold read in class.  It was clear it didn’t fit.

Neely: How much of you is in Gorgeous and would your friends agree?

Ben: The language is me, well at least among my friends where I use the F-bomb quite liberally.  I can’t lay claim to a being a decade-long alcoholic at the bottom, but after a few beers I definitely sound like Gorgeous.  I just chose to apply my most vulgar self to the fiction.

Neely: What else are you working on?  How are you mining that diverse background of yours?

Ben: I’m part of a new program at the USC film school called “First Team.”  They try to pair someone from each discipline – writer, director and producer – to come up with a script, a budget and a marketing plan.  Then the film school sends it out to select agents and production companies.  It was by application open to any alumni and they took 30 from each discipline.  My feature is another R-rated comedy and it’s due in a couple of weeks; so we’ll see.

Neely: As one who is not from around these here parts, how are you adjusting?  Do you get restless to go back into the wilderness?

Ben: Only just so well.  It’s complicated.  LA is a real challenge and I’d rather be out in the nowhere doing something interesting day-to-day.  Covering the military was the highlight for me.  Here I’m writing so much it’s an isolating experience.  I was happier when I was adventuring in someway; it generated better stories.  Like Antarctica: there I worked 10-hour shifts cleaning hallways and then, later, driving buses in 24-hour daylight to airports made out of floating sea ice. Awesome. Do I get restless to go back to the wilderness? I would leave for Antarctica tomorrow if someone offered it. Really. Or Siberia, maybe, or Afghanistan to cover the troops.  L.A. – I just try to good naturedly hate it here.

Neely: I wish you well and hope that someone reading this will be in a position to help you get a good agent and push you in the direction you want to go.

January 6, 2010

“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” – William Faulkner

Filed under: Conversations With, Cosin, Pilots, Pilots not produced, Writers — Tags: , , — Neely Swanson @ 9:57 am

“Chapel Hill” by Elizabeth Cosin

What: Lucy Remington Wright finds herself at age 38 back where she began so promisingly with a daughter to support, no education and on her own for the first time in fifteen years.

Who: Lucy Wright received a triple blow when she discovered that her husband, George, a newly appointed partner in Lucy’s father’s Manhattan law firm, had been cheating on her, that her father knew about it and that the SEC was closing in on George for investment fraud.  Soon to be divorced, Lucy, all of whose assets and property have been frozen by the SEC, packs up her rebellious 13 year old daughter Zoe and decides to move back to the one place where she had felt support, comfort and promise – “Chapel Hill”, NC.  She had left college to marry George and now feels an irresistible pull to start again where she left off.  Zoe, a child of Upper East Side privilege is very none too happy about this decision and begins plotting her return before they have even left the state. Already arguing about radio music on the drive out of the city – Lucy likes James Taylor, Zoe likes Eminem and there is no twain there:

Zoe: You kidnap me to Hicksville and I don’t even have my iPod anymore.  What’s the government want with it anyway?

Lucy: Probably for homeland security.  Spook the terrorists.

Zoe: It’s not funny.  I really love my iPod.  I need it.  Especially where we’re going.

Lucy: You know they have running water in “Chapel Hill”.  And electricity, too.

Zoe: If it was so great, why didn’t you stay?

Lucy: I dropped out of college to marry your father.  I guess right now that’s not looking like the smartest thing I ever did, huh?

Living arrangements in “Chapel Hill” are abysmal and Lucy’s work prospects are even worse until Garland Rucker, a friend from her past, offers her a receptionist job at his chaotic legal aid office.  Lucy immediately digs in and reaching out when she encounters the desperate mother of a Muslim student who has been expelled from the University because of a cheating scandal.  As the mother explains, her daughter, a star student and champion soccer player, couldn’t possibly done what the school alleges, but the daughter refuses to defend herself; Garland has closed the case because of the girl’s lack of cooperation.  A preliminary, off the books investigation leads Lucy to believe in the girl’s innocence and a possible conspiracy on the part of another student and a powerful faculty member.

Zoe has seemingly adjusted well at school, having attracted the attention of the popular girls.  Her comfort is short lived, however, when she participates in a hurtful scheme concocted by her new “friends.”  Zoe, alienated by her surroundings and feeling abandoned decides that she will return back to New York and live with her father.  Lucy, hurt by Zoe’s decision, supports it nonetheless, making sure that Zoe knows that she will always be there for her.

Zoe exits the First Avenue bus terminal.  She sees a man holding up a sign with her name on it.

Zoe: where’s my Dad?

Driver: He had to leave town for a few days.  Everything you need is at the apartment.

Zoe: When will he be back?

Driver: He didn’t say.

She soon returns to her mother, determined to make the best of what she still considers a pitiful situation.

No Meaner Place: Cosin has written a warm, interesting character piece that, in the best tradition of both comedy and drama, is essentially about a fish-out-of-water adjusting to a new, smaller aquarium.  The character of Lucy, though wounded, is a strong, resilient role model who decides that in order to move on with life she needs to start back at the point where she made her first missteps, as she realized almost immediately that leaving school and marrying George were colossal mistakes and that making the best of bad situations isn’t the same as moving in a positive direction.  Zoe is a marvelous depiction of a teenager with all the contradictions of personality that exist –petulant/enthusiastic, hateful/loving, rude/considerate.  As in all well-constructed pilots, we know who these characters are and eagerly await their growth and learning curves as they face new circumstances.

CBS commissioned this script in the 2005/2006 pilot season for possible launch in the 2006/2007 broadcast season but did not produce it to pilot.  I would still like to believe that it is unusual for something of this quality not to get a green light.  Researching that pilot season on Studio System I found that of the 121 scripts that CBS bought, 28 were produced – 12 dramas (among which was “Orpheus” by Nick Meyer), and 16 comedies. The shows that premiered in the 2006/2007 broadcast season were “Smith,” “Rules of Engagement,” “3 Lbs” (reshot from the previous pilot season), “The Class,” “Jericho,” and “Shark” – 4 dramas and 2 comedies, only one of which, “Rules of Engagement, may still be on the schedule.  Elizabeth was in excellent company as Ed Bernero, Denise Di Novi, Tim Kring, Barry Sonnenfeld,  Barry Schindel and Shane Black all wrote scripts that went unproduced.

The good news in this bad news situation is that since this very well written script was not produced, it will within a short time return to Cosin’s control; and as she writes of a universal situation, it does not have an expiration date.  More interesting, though, would be to try to interest the CW or a cable network such as Lifetime to take this to series.

Life Lessons for Writers:  If they don’t make it you’ll get it back. But better yet, if they don’t make it the first time, find a reason for them to make it the next time.

Conversation with the Writer:

Neely: Elizabeth, in the interest of full disclosure, everyone should know that we’ve been friends for a long time.  That being said, sending me your script was risky because I have always told you how I felt one way or the other – sometimes good, sometimes not.

Elizabeth: I’ve always respected your opinion and knew you’d be honest about it. I’m just glad you liked it.

Neely: You now live up in the Sonoma region.  What prompted the move?  Don’t you find it more difficult to maintain a footing as a working writer when you’re away from the scene? I’m sure that part of the incentive for living far from the maddening crowd (the actual expression is “Madding” but since that refers to sheep and you’re closer to sheep up there than you would be down here, I changed it) is the love of gastronomy you share with Ignacio, your partner.  I can envision the two of you giving Alice Waters a real run for her money.  What did you serve at your most recent dinner party?

Elizabeth: The main thing that prompted the move was worry about the real estate market and a possible writers strike. Both of us are freelancers and our income isn’t consistent so the prospect of facing a mortgage in uncertain times was daunting. We took a chance and put our Santa Monica house on the market and got a great offer. After that, it was deciding on where to go from there. We picked a small town in Sonoma where we’d vacationed a few times and think we’ve found our forever home.

While we adjusted to small town life very quickly, work-wise it’s been a lot of trial-and-error.  Early on, I probably didn’t get down to Los Angeles enough and then we had the strike and the only trips I made to L.A. were to walk the picket line. But I think it’s possible I needed the time away from the “big city’ to regroup and also to re-examine my creative life, to ask the tough questions of what I wanted to write and more important to finish projects that for one reason or another were gathering dust.

I started getting down to LA a lot last year and have a regular crash pad there which has made it easier to be consistent about going. I’m there for a week or two every few weeks and it’s worked out great. At first, I kept the move quiet but I’ve found it’s helped more than hurt. First, I’ve got way less stress in my life and second, people love the idea that I had the “guts” to make such a big move and to live in an idyllic place.  They have no idea how easy it is though – and it’s not like I’m that far from L.A. – six hours by car or an hour by plane.

Plus the one great thing about living away from L.A. is being away from the L.A. scene. It’s not only the various distractions, it’s the expectations that can really crush a writer’s spirit. Down in L.A. you’re always hearing about who did what when and everybody’s in the business and the pressure can get to you, no matter who you are.  Up here, the pace is slow and steady, people don’t care what you do for a living and there’s a great creative vibe that comes from people who work the land, or in kitchens or as artists. I’m sure that sounds like a cliché, but when I was living in L.A. I didn’t see how much I was caught up in stuff that doesn’t matter. I mean I take myself way less seriously up here. My friends and family count this as a good thing.

This year I rented a small office in town which has been a real godsend. It’s on the second floor of an old winery building – a small room with no windows to the outside, no phone. It’s a great environment for writing – I find there are days when I totally lose track of time.

When I’m not writing, I have this amazing landscape all around me. It’s like living in France or Italy – all these rolling hillsides and vistas that go on forever and the two-lanes that snake around past old farmhouses, giant oaks and of course acres of vineyards. That’s just what I see on a routine drive into town . It’s been more than three years now and I haven’t tired of it. I mean I love L.A. and I can see living there again, but it’s pretty amazing how much a little quiet, a lot of beauty and almost total lack of traffic does to lower your stress level and improve your general disposition. And even better, it makes you pay attention a lot more to the things around you. As a writer, that’s invaluable and I think maybe something I forgot to do when I was in the middle of the rat race.

Of course, the proximity to the land is part of the great adventure – exciting too because we’re practically at ground zero for this country’s burgeoning new fresh food movement. As you know we’ve been big fans of great food and there’s nothing like living practically on top of it. We buy almost everything at the source from meat to cheese to fruits and vegetables – it’s a rare meal where I don’t know exactly where my food came from or who grew and/or farmed it. Ignacio has flourished here too and has collected lots of fans among the locals, farmers and chefs included. Our last dinner party was Christmas Eve. We had broccoli and leek soup with foraged chanterelles, fresh pasta with hand-picked local crab and local rack of lamb marinated in garlic, olive oil and as Ignacio says “all the herbs the lamb eats”.

Neely: You’ve written a series of three mystery novels with a terrific protagonist – Zen Moses, a zaftig detective who is a lung cancer survivor – much like yourself.  I always thought it would be the perfect vehicle for Camryn Manheim.  I was disappointed that it never made it to series – again it was CBS that passed, but what about that third book?  (This has been an ongoing conversation between us for some time).

Elizabeth: I still think Zen would make a great TV series but we sold it at the wrong time. Former Paramount exec Stacey Adams  (now with CBS) and Kelly Edwards (who I think is also with CBS now) were the big fans of the project but I think CBS really wanted another procedural – and why not? They had so much success with the CSI franchise and shows like Without a Trace and Cold Case. Zen is really a character drama masquerading as a detective show – closer to, say Rockford Files than CSI and while I was willing to explore the potential of it as a procedural, I think everybody involved knew my heart wasn’t in it.

Neely: I look forward to reading a new version, one that stays closer to your vision.  It’s been my experience that passion projects that are “adapted” to a studio’s proposed need rather than the “need” of the work or the artist never turn out as intended by either party.  One can always insert a procedural element – which by any other phrase is just a mystery to be solved – in a work of detective fiction (for, after all, what is detective fiction but a mystery to be solved?).  I still believe that the audience is hungry for character.

Elizabeth: At the time, CBS wanted Zen to be a cop, partly because they were worried about where the cases would come from.  I understand a lot of this came from the trouble the networks have had in developing detective shows with female leads. Their ideas and choices were interesting and I tried to make them work but I think ultimately we just had different visions for the show. I’m not wed to Zen as written in the books – I realize I will have to make changes to adapt it to TV, but there’s one or two elements I just didn’t want to move off of and that was where we got stuck. I’m grateful that CBS believed in the project in the first place – maybe we’ll revisit together one day.  I’ve been working on a new version of the pilot, my update of and homage to the detective genre. I’ll let you know if I pull it off.

Neely: You have one of the most interesting backgrounds that I’ve encountered.  As I recall you were a sports writer.  How did that start and is it still ongoing?

Elizabeth: Sports writing was a job I sort of fell into but grew to love. I definitely learned more about writing well from sports writing than any other job I’ve had. The single most defining moment of my life (so far) was getting lung Cancer in my 20s. When I got sick I was writing for a metro newspaper covering business but when I came back, I was kind of casting about for a new direction.  The initial prognosis wasn’t good and there was a period there where I was forced to consider my own mortality. Nobody wants to have those thoughts ever but especially no one in their mid-20s and to say it rocked my world would be an obvious understatement. Those uncertain weeks really made me reconsider my place in the world, my future, my life and what I would do with myself if I didn’t have a lot of time left. One of the people who helped me through was the sports editor of my paper and he’s the one who convinced me to try writing sports – after all, I’ve always been a big fan. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done but I really learned about myself as a writer and was great training for my leap to fiction.

Neely: What an inspiring story, especially that you were nurtured at a time you needed it the most.  I’ve always followed sports writing because I’ve always considered it the best writing in the paper.  Historically some of our greatest American writers wrote for the Sports Pages – Ring Lardner (Chicago Tribune), Damon Runyon (New York American), both famous for their short stories; Jim Murray (Los Angeles Times) and Red Smith (New York Times) both of whom elevated sports writing to the art of the essayist; and Roger Angell (New Yorker) whose annual wrap-up of the baseball season is reason enough to subscribe to the magazine.  I have particularly liked the books on baseball and baseball figures written by David Halberstam and George Will.

As a journalist and professional writer, what do you think has been the impact of the internet on the business, in general, and on writers, in particular?

Elizabeth: Probably this is sacrilegious to say but I think the Internet has killed journalism. There’s just way too much emphasis on getting the story first and way too little on getting it right. Bloggers don’t have to follow any of the rules of reporting or sourcing and too many rumors and incorrect stories fly around the Net too fast to make proper corrections or for wronged parties to respond. It’s a mess.

For fiction writers, the Net has been great though. Especially for authors – bookstores, publishers and authors connect easily through sites like Twitter and Facebook and fan, retail and publisher sites. No genre author can or should embark on a publicity tour without getting a presence on the Internet.

Neely: Living in Sonoma, you must miss the sports action.  Who do you root for up there? You can’t still be a Clippers fan, can you?

Elizabeth: I’d be lost without my DirecTV.  I get to follow my favorite teams – the Mets, NY Giants and Knicks from the comfort of my living room.  We make occasional trips to see games in Oakland and San Francisco.

Neely: Let’s talk a bit about “Chapel Hill”.  Why Chapel Hill? What’s the connection?

Elizabeth: No connection at all. Except that when I first started as a sportswriter in Washington, DC, I covered the ACC conference in football and basketball and I used to drive down to the Raleigh-Durham area at least a couple of times a year. That sign in the pilot where the distance is replaced by a basketball score is real — I remember seeing it once on one of my trips.

“’Chapel Hill 15, Wake Forest 40’ Someone has scrawled out he mileage and replaced ‘15’ with ‘85’, so it reads like a lopsided basketball score.”

When I was thinking of a town, I wanted to use a place that had a liberal arts college and a varied population ethnic and class-wise — a spot that could be part small town, but burgeoning new city.

Neely: Was this an idea pitched to you or did you come up with the premise?

Elizabeth: It all started because I wanted to write something outside the procedural world where I’d been pigeon-holed – I mean I just came off a run of working for shows like Law & Order: Criminal Intent,  24 and Dragnet and while it was awesome and certainly paid the bills, I wanted to write something different, show my character chops. The original idea was pitched to me by Charles Segars who produces as well as runs development at Scripps Networks (Fine Living and such). He liked my work and I loved his sense of characters and situations (and loved working him) so we set out to try to come up with a pilot together. He had a grain of an idea, kind of a like a female version of the hero in The Paper Chase. I loved the concept but I knew I needed to make it personal to me to really get my head around it. Charles was really generous in allowing me to take the story where I felt it should go and I ended up writing a spec pilot we both were proud of. It’s not that much different from the CBS version,  a little more set-up and slightly more comedy.

We tried to sell it over two cycles but got no takers – probably because the original had almost no procedural elements at all.  As I talked about earlier, I had sold my detective novels to Paramount but we couldn’t agree on a tone or approach. I was trying to save my deal with them when I brought up “Chapel Hill” over lunch with execs at Paramount and CBS – all women. I actually pitched it on the fly with no preparation but it worked because I’d been living with it for so long, I knew the characters cold and I believed in them and I had a definite clear idea about what the show was about.

Lucky for me they loved the concept so we set about re-conceiving it for them. It’s often in vogue for writers to whine about development execs and notes from the suits, but developing “Chapel Hill” was a great experience all around. Kelly Edwards and Jonathan Axelrod were the producers and they never stopped believing in me and the trio of Julie McNamara, Leigh Redman and Stacey Adams at Paramount plus Laverne McKinnon at CBS were all very supportive of the project and gave awesome notes. In fact, a note Julie gave me was critical to making the end of the show work.

Martha Williamson came on to help guide and focus the story and she was a wonderful mentor throughout the process. She took the time to understand my vision and never once tried to impose hers on it. I remember going off to write feeling very confident I’d deliver a solid script.

If I learned anything developing this script it was the importance of getting your whole team to believe in your show and in you. The crucial part is selling both – you and your show. Or more precisely, that you are the person they need and can trust to deliver this show. Every successful show has a steady leader at the creative helm, someone who will not compromise on the singular vision of the series, someone to make sure all the varied moving parts adds up to one big idea. The clearer your vision, the easier it is to get everybody on the same page. “Chapel Hill” was a true collaborative process and throughout it, I never felt like the network or the studio didn’t believe in my vision for the show or tried to impose their own over it.

Neely: I know it had to be heartbreaking because it was one of your best scripts and telling 100 stories would have been easy.  Seems to be just another case of the right script at the wrong time.

Elizabeth: It was terribly heartbreaking I admit. Though when Nina Tassler called me personally to say CBS was passing, I also thought it was going to open some other doors into development. So I was feeling hopeful for my future anyway. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to find another pilot to work on together. I’m not sure who said it originally but I love the expression that Hollywood is a place where you can be encouraged to death.

Who knows why some shows get pick-ups and others don’t – mainly I imagine “Chapel Hill” wasn’t procedural enough (that’s a lot of what got added in the development process).  Still, I’m hopeful that shows like it will make it onto the air more now that we’ve seen successful character dramas. My favorite at the moment and the one I think that has a real kinship to “Chapel Hill” is “Friday Night Lights.”  It’s so brilliant, especially in the inter-relationships of its characters.

I love the way it investigates the deep inner world of small-town life and the people who live there, relying on emotional truths rather than familiar clichés. These are the places I would have wanted to explore in “Chapel Hill.” It was one of the rare scripts I’ve written where I can really say I know the characters, they’re based on real people I know. I mine a lot of true-life stuff for my Zen novels but those are fantasies. I mean I totally enjoy writing them but I felt “Chapel Hill” was going to give me a chance to create a rich landscape about a place and the characters that live there and the way their choices and mistakes weigh on themselves, their hopes and dreams and also about rising to the occasion when your life veers off course in ways you never expect. In a funny way, writing “Chapel Hill” made me a better novelist too.  My new novel is in some ways a connection to what I was trying to do with Lucy and Zoe – different characters and places but the emotions are very much of the same family tree. I’m not denigrating my Zen novels by any means – I’m really, really proud of Zen as a character but I grew up faster than she did I think and while I have every intention of returning to her adventures, I really needed to go to this other place in my writer’s heart first.  Who knows if I’ll make it work but then it’s supposed to be about the journey anyway, right?

Part of this has been theme and like almost all writers, I find I keep returning to the same themes over and over again. I don’t do it consciously, it sort of evolves on its own. “Chapel Hill” turned out to be about one of those themes, in this case it was the idea of starting over,  changing your life – making a big leap of faith into your future away from something comfortable and into some great unknown.  Of all the things I write about, this is among the most personal for me. I’ve uprooted my life more than once – moving out to L.A. from the East Coast was one of those times. First, the move was in part precipitated by surviving Cancer and wanting to make a big change in my life. I had a job waiting but I only knew one person in L.A. and didn’t even have a place to stay lined up past a week or two. The drive itself was an adventure – I had an idea of where I wanted to go but basically I just followed major roads and figured the route out as I went. To me it was a great new beginning, something I felt I had to do no matter what  — kind of like the kid in “Into the Wild.”  I considered for maybe 3 minutes that it might suck being far away from friends, family, living in a big, new city, etc. but I never once considered what the cost would be to those people. Here I am on my great adventure and my parents are sort of grieving over me moving 3,000 miles away – this mere months after almost losing me to Cancer. They never once told me not to go and have been great anchors for me along the way, but since I moved out to LA we see much less of each other. I think by now they know I made the right choice but there will always be a tiny bit of guilt that I wasn’t physically closer to them, no matter that we talk on the phone every other day.

What’s a writer to do with that kind of shit but to write about it and that’s where I started with Lucy. Sure, her motives are ultimately noble but what’s the affect on Zoe who has as many reasons to want to stay in New York as Lucy has to leave? It’s not a reach for her to feel she is being dragged along on someone else’s adventure.  In imagining the future of the series, I thought a lot about their relationship and especially how it’s Zoe who has made the biggest sacrifice. I was looking forward to exploring how this affected both Lucy and Zoe and what it would mean for their relationship. That’s why Lucy has that moment in the pilot where she lets Zoe go – it’s as much symbolic as it is literal. She has to do this, even though it goes against everything she feels is right and it’s at that moment when Lucy really understands the big responsibility she’s taken on – that it’s not just her journey alone. I love that scene when she meets Zoe at the bus station. Those are the moments writers live for.  I was really looking forward to seeing this relationship grow and change over the course of the series  – I know it would have been fun to write. As you can tell, I loved Zoe. She’s a perfect character because she’s an age where kids want can’t wait to grow up  but are still holding on to their last gasp of her childhood. Of course, like Lucy she has no idea she’s crossing a line. We hardly ever notice stuff like that until we’ve lived through it.

Neely: What about a different avenue?  Since CBS Studios is behind it, have they considered selling it elsewhere, or rolling it to next season?

Elizabeth: I think at this point, it’s back in my hands. I’d love to pitch it elsewhere – I have some ideas to update Lucy’s character vis-à-vis the recent financial crisis faced by the country. But I could easily see this on TNT – something to pair with the fabulous “Men of a Certain Age,” for example. And I’ve never given up hope that CBS will take another look at it – it’s really perfect for them and isn’t it true that “women of a certain age” (I won’t use THAT word) are in vogue these days? I’m so proud of that script.  I entered it into the WGA Writer Access Contest and won in the Diversity (women) division.

Neely: Congratulations.  But in some ways it is ironic…I never considered women, as a group, to be a minority.

Elizabeth: I know.  But if you look at the writing staffs of current programs you will find very few women. You’d be surprised how many shows don’t have any women on the writing staff.

Neely: What’s up next for you?  Have you been in town to pitch?

Elizabeth: I’ve got a new novel I’ve been working on. It’s not a Zen novel. The character is an LA cop on leave for a psychological problem and he ends up investigating a crime that forces him to confront his family’s past. I’m very excited about it and hope to have a publisher in early 2010. Then there’s the as-yet unpublished third Zen novel Zen Justice which may also see the light of day in the New Year.

I’ve done a lot of pitching the last couple of years – I’ve been out with two major projects in particular. One was a cop drama with a writing partner where we came this close to selling but I think in the end it was just too risky for most places.  I’ve got a new project with two young producers that I’ve excited about – a sort of character cop drama that takes place in another small southern town – which I’m just finishing a script for.

I also have a couple of spec pilots. One is a crazy cable drama in the vein of “Out of Sight” called “Small Crimes,” and the other is about a female cop who is haunted by her dead ex-partner called “Magic Hour”.

And finally, I’ve decided that 2010 is the year I will direct my first feature film. I’ve got a script I’m working on that I’m going to shoot on a shoe-string budget up here in wine country with an almost all local cast. It’s a story that I’ve wanted to tell for a long time and I can’t think of a better place to tell it than my little bucolic town.

Neely: All of that sounds fantastic and I can’t wait to see what happens.  Also, I still think there’s a home waiting for “Chapel Hill”.  I’m so happy to hear that you are pushing harder than ever.  As Phoef Sutton remarked in an earlier “conversation with”,

When I started, I knew it would be hard to break in; I didn’t realize that I’d have to continue to break in.

Please keep me posted and finish Zen Justice because I want more Zen Moses (and because I don’t think you’re done with her yet)!

As a parting note, I loved your “advice for young writers.” The following is an edited (for length) version:

It doesn’t matter what anybody says or how much work there is or who gets gigs on the Who You Know circuit or who the best unemployed writer or unpublished script is. It doesn’t matter. None of it does. What matters, what always will matter now and forever, is the work.

And not just any work but your work. What matters is if you are one of those people who are hard-wired to write then write you must do, no matter if it pays the bills or not. No matter what anyone tells you. No matter the prospects of getting paid or published or even printed on glossy white 3-hole punch paper. No matter what, period.

Because if you are one of those poor suckers, you already know the gospel by heart. You ain’t in it for the money. Only a fool becomes a writer to get rich. You’re in it because you’re in it and there’s no way out of it. You’re here because you have no choice, because there are forces at work well beyond your control that compel you to turn that glob of gray between your ears into words and sentences, paragraphs and chapters, dialogue, scenes, acts, to put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard or blood to stone. Because you have no fucking choice.

If it’s in you, you know. And if you know, then you don’t need anybody to tell you that you’ve just turned on to an endless two-lane between the voices in your head and those voices on paper making any kind of sense, the latter so far out on the horizon, you can’t be sure if it’s home or a thousand-foot death drop off a cliff.

I’ll tell you what you say to that young kid just starting out or to the reflection in your mirror on those days when you’re certain you’ve either written your last good word or the last word of yours anybody will ever read. You remind that kid (and you) that nothing will ever matter more than the work, that on this crazy, winding, frightening, amazing, wondrous, magical and sometimes fucked up ride that for sure has been chosen for us and not vice versa, the only thing you’ll ever have any control over is your craft. And nobody can take that away from you. Not if you don’t let them.

Check out Elizabeth’s blog on photography –  www.shyonelung.blogspot.com

Neely Swanson

neely@nomeanerplace.com

December 14, 2009

“If you want to make a little money, write a book. If you want to make a lot of money, create a religion.” – L. Ron Hubbard

Filed under: Conversations With, Meyer, Pilots, Produced, Writers — Tags: , , , — Neely Swanson @ 5:09 pm

“I’ve been dead before”  – Spock  (”Star Trek VI”)

Orpheus by Nicholas Meyer

What: A college student, on a road trip to find himself, instead finds himself robbed of all possessions after an acid-laced rock concert and stranded in a small town in the middle of nowhere until he meets a mysterious girl who takes an intense interest in him.

Who: Guy Lawrence wakes up after a rock concert to find the field empty and all his possessions missing.  Making his way to a neighboring town, Guy meets the beautiful Sue Ellen, waitress at the local café, who kindly feeds and beds him.  He is entranced and decides to stay with Sue Ellen, abandoning the summer internship that had set up for him in Los Angeles prior to his return to Yale for his sophomore year.  Receiving word of his change in schedule worries his parents in New York.  Sue Ellen and Guy move to Seattle, where she begins to reveal her devotion to the “Temple of Grand Design” led by “Brother.”  Much of what Brother proselytizes makes a great deal of sense to Guy.

“There is no Grand Design – except the one you make of your own life.”

“There are no rules.  They’re just observations.  You either buy into them or you don’t.  It’s a free country – more or less.”

Although admonished to stay away from Galateans (the uninitiated), Sue Ellen is smitten and explains more of Grand Design to Guy.  Brother is known simply as Brother and Father, the leader, is known simply as Father; Grand Design is modeled on the idea of family.

Guy: This all sounds like…some kind of cult…

Sue Ellen: It’s a philosophy.  Anyway, what’s the difference between a cult and a religion…? I’ll tell you: numbers.  If twelve people believe something, they’re a cult; but if a hundred million believe the same thing, they’re a religion.

Guy: It just sounds so programmed…

Sue Ellen: We’re all programmed – from birth.  The trick is to write you own program.

Guy looks at her; she’s spoken the truth.

Or at least what the truth looks like to a 19 year old.  Recalled to NY on a ruse by his parents, Guy begins his year at Yale, but quits abruptly when he realizes that no one around him understands his new awareness.  His friend Barry who, in Guy’s view, had abandoned him during the summer picks up Guy’s copy of The Grand Design and begins to read.

Barry: “Nothing is important unless you SAY it’s important.”  What’s that supposed to mean?

Guy: You ever really watch TV?  It’s like a big mirror of the whole country.  We’re not citizens, we’re just consumers.  Our only culture is POP culture.  It’s all me-me-me-

Guy no longer sees himself in this Ivy League world and heads back to find Sue Ellen and join her at Grand Design.  As he attempts to make his way through the levels of GD consciousness, Sue Ellen’s rival, Karen, also has her eye on Guy; Brother turns on the charm and makes Guy a special project, advancing him quickly through several ranks.  Guy is being drawn further and further into the labyrinth. Guy’s brother Greg arrives to try to get him to return but their confrontation only serves to solidify Guy’s resolve even as he begins to have doubts.

No Meaner Place: “Orpheus” builds slowly, building character and background subtly and effectively.  In its way it is much like the celebrated but long forgotten short story by James Clavell entitled “The Children’s Story” in which a young teacher sent by the new Soviet captors has replaced the old classroom teacher and slowly but methodically, in the course of a very short morning, wins the hearts of her students and disables all their previously held, but not entirely understood, beliefs.  Vulnerability exists in all of us and within the right context our core beliefs can be shaken and sometimes dismantled.  This is the setting and premise of “Orpheus,” a thinly disguised Scientology society, but one that could be at the heart of any orthodoxy.

Guy is the perfect foil as he is intelligent, well-raised, thoughtful and at a stage in life where he questions everything. Meyer has set the stage for a “Manchurian Candidate” style brainwashing as Guy initially finds himself hungry, disoriented, abandoned, alone and in a strange place where he is seemingly offered unconditional love and comfort by a beautiful stranger.

There are so many possibilities here that the stories can go off in multiple directions. The philosophical basis of religion as personified by a society claiming to be anything but a religion and the hypocrisy of the leaders of this society that mirrors so many of the scandals of present day religious organizations will be microscopically examined.  Vulnerability, belief structure, rebellion, hypocrisy, roads taken and not taken – so many complex issues and so much to discover.

Alas, none of us will be able to discover any of these paths because this pilot was never picked up to series.  The filmed version, whether because of casting choices, directing choices, or network notes, was bland.  There was no edge, there was no sinister feeling, there was no tension; hence, there were no stakes and therefore very little story left.  Certainly the topic was always risky and the network should never have been in doubt about what the premise and long range plans were.  Something, however, happened along the way to make them lose faith in the intelligence of the project and the challenge to the audience – an audience that is almost always up for a challenge and hardly ever given one.  Meyer is such a gifted writer with such a diverse literary background that it is a major loss to have been denied his voice and vision.

Life Lessons for Writers:  As in polite society, stay away from religion and politics unless, of course, you’re writing a comedy, in which case stay away from religion and politics.  “Let them eat static” – Khan  (”Star Trek II”)

Conversation with Nick Meyer:

Neely: I’ve been a big fan of your work since seeing “The Seven-Per-Cent Solution,” the most interesting take on Sherlock Holmes yet produced; and I don’t expect the new version to overtake it, no matter what the hook.  You were the sole credited writer on your adaptation, with a director at the height of his career, Herbert Ross, and a cast that included Nicol Williamson, Robert Duvall, Laurence Olivier, Vanessa Redgrave and Alan Arkin as Freud.  I think there’s a good argument to be made that Nicol Williamson and Robert Duvall were the best pairing since Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce. Did your involvement end with handing over the script or were you able to participate in the project once it started production?  Anyway you look at it, it was pretty heady stuff for someone so young.

Nick: It was like I was dreaming the whole time.  When Herbert Ross asked “what do you think of Olivier as Moriarity?” I had to sit and look normal. Olivier was my hero.  This is the only business where you get to shake hands with your dreams.  Six months later at Pinewood it all came to be.  I grew up idolizing him and seeing everything he had ever done.  In 1971, when I first came out to LA to try and write for a living, I saw the film he made of Chekov’s “Three Sisters”  and I wrote to him and told him how I much his work had meant to me over the years and to thank him for it. I offered to send him a copy of my forthcoming book (The Seven-Per-Cent Solution), quoting from The Taming of the Shrew, “too little payment for so great a debt.” I actually got a letter from him in return. I had the letter framed and still have it.  When I met him on set I reminded him of the letter but he didn’t remember.  I’ve found that it’s often more important to tell a person you admire them than for them to hear it.

I was invited to go to Pinewood and Vienna with the film.  I knew I wanted to direct and thought I’d learn by watching the production take shape.  Herb Ross was very courteous and gracious.  Because the dialogue of the script was so stylized and of the period Ross wanted me there for tweaks.  I watched everything and became a better screenwriter after I became a director.  I saw that “The Seven-Per-Cent Solution” movie had too many words and that, (to paraphrase Hilary Clinton, “knowing what I now know…”) I was in the editing room with Ross begging him to cut dialogue, which he wouldn’t do.  Can you imagine the writer begging the director to trim his script??

This was a very different situation than when I was working on “The Human Stain.”  I was completely shut out of the production.  Robert Benton, the director, didn’t want me there as he later explained, because he didn’t want to fight with me since he was making a different movie than the one I envisioned.

Neely: Following in the footsteps of other writers who wanted more control over their scripts, you were able to parlay your success into a writing/directing gig on the Sci Fi/Fantasy classic “Time After Time,” following it up by writing and directing what most people, myself included, consider to be the best Star Trek movie ever – “Star Trek II, The Wrath of Khan.”  It’s another classic example of everything starts with a good script.  Can you give us some memorable details from that experience?  Actually, how did you get that assignment?

Nick: I’m really not a Sci/Fi fantasy guy but I have always been a fan of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells.  Movies are eye candy that Sci Fi promotes and you have to remember that candy isn’t good for you so you need to provide some nourishment.  I got assigned to direct Star Trek II after I met with Harve Bennett.  Five different scripts had been turned in for a second Star Trek feature and none of them did the trick.  After reading all five, I felt that there were some good elements in each and offered to try to cobble something together taking the best, most workable parts from each.  Harve  and his partner Bob Sallin were very enthusiastic but worried that unless we had a script within 12 days, ILM (George Lucas’ special FX house contracted to manufacture shots for the film) couldn’t guarantee delivery of said shots in time to for the film’s June opening.  I was so naïve that I didn’t realize that movies that had yet to be produced might already have opening dates slotted.  Somehow I got it done and we got started.

Working on that script I was inspired by the C.S. Forester Captain Hornblower novels, which chronicled the picaresque adventures of British navy captain during the Napoleonic Wars.   This would be Hornblower in outer space.  It was decided that Spock would be killed but when Paramount realized that there might actually be more life in this series, they made us change the ending in order to allow for Spock’s return.  When it came time for “Star Trek III” I didn’t do it because I don’t know how to do resurrections.  Harve came to me for help on “Star Trek IV” and they were my friends so I agreed.  Again there were script problems and it was four weeks before prep was to start.  It was going to have a “Time After Time” feel to it so Harve wrote the space parts and I wrote the earth parts.  I was unavailable for “Star Trek V” but was willing to do VI, which remains my favorite.  Because I had had a bad experience on my previous film, “Company Business,” I wanted to go where I liked everyone and get the bad taste out of my mouth.  Besides, I was told VI was going to be the last they would ever produce with the original cast.

The Aero in Santa Monica recently showed “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan” and I was asked to speak.  The theater was packed and you feel like you’re with kids who like to hear the same story told over and over. I joshed with them: – “I told you on the DVD! I told you on the Special Edition!  I’ve told you on the Blu-Ray!” Like a prisoner under hot lights, the temptation to invent stories is enormous at that point.  Because eye witnesses are the least reliable witnesses, (according to cops and lawyers), I’m always afraid I’m going to wander off into something like “Rashomon,” where the same event is embroidered from several differing points of view. After all those repetitions, the temptation to vary the facts as I recall them and start imagining things instead of remembering them is very great.

Neely: I’m especially intrigued by a Merchant Ivory picture that you directed entitled “The Deceivers,” one of Pierce Brosnan’s first post “Remington Steele” starring roles. I have to confess that I’d never heard of it and even more intriguing is that I was under the impression that the Merchant Ivory group kept everything in house – directing, writing and producing.  How did that come about and what happened to that film?

Nick: Most of the time they kept everything in house but “The Deceivers” was intended to help them branch out from the drawing room films they were famous for.  The book was by John Masters, considered the poet laureate of the Indian Army.  Masters took historical events and incidents and turned them into a series of novels about Anglo-India, among them Bhowani Junction (also filmed) and The Nightrunners of Bengal.  My agent got me the job and it was going to be India and a cavalry charge – how could I say no?  It’s about a man who goes searching for the worst thing in the world and discovers he’s actually carrying it in his back pack.  Pierce Brosnan gives a great self-effacing performance.  He was fabulous.  He played an Englishman trying to infiltrate the Thug (Deceiver) Cult.  The film came and went.  I don’t know why.  Sometimes it’s the lack of money, like in the case of “Elegy,” and sometimes they just fail.  It’s too easy to blame marketing every time your film tanks.

Neely: And of course those were some of your earliest films. You also have the distinction of writing and producing one of the last films starring the Governator, “Collateral Damage.”

Nick: This is an interesting story.  My closest friend and editor, Ronald Roose, came up with the idea and wrote a script called “Prey” about a computer scientist who goes to the airport to pick up his wife and daughter, only to discover that their plane had been bombed by terrorists.  When he realizes our government is going to do nothing, he turns himself from a mild computer geek (think Tom Hanks), into this lethal character and makes his way to Libya to avenge them.  When we pitched it we said, “Remember, this isn’t Arnold Schwarzenegger.”  Five years later…it was.

Neely: I find it especially interesting that your career started by adapting your own novel and then writing several original screenplays.  But throughout your career you have written some marvelous adaptations – “Sommersby” (from the French film “The Return of Martin Guerre”), and most recently “The Human Stain” and “Elegy” both based on Philip Roth novels.  I’m intrigued that you seem to have become the go-to guy for Philip Roth adaptations.  As a matter of fact, the evening before this interview (by phone while I was in New York), my husband and I were eating in a tiny Italian restaurant near our hotel and who should walk in but Philip Roth! I went to his booth (so uncool but irresistible since he was alone) and told him I was a fan and that I was interviewing you, the screenplay adapter of two of his more recent books, the next day.  He was very polite and we shook hands and he didn’t flee the restaurant, so I guess it might come under the category of the fan needing to say it more than the artist needing to hear it.  So how did these adaptations come up?

Nick: My former agent Gary Lucchesi is now at Lakeshore Entertainment and he thought of me when Tom Rosenberg, who owns Lakeshore, decided to do The Human Stain.  They loved the original script which bears little resemblance to the finished product by the way.  Tom also wanted to do The Dying Animal, which stayed much closer to the script.  Using my “Saturday date night” gauge I was pretty sure we weren’t going to draw a lot of couples to a movie called The Dying Animal and suggested we change the title to “Elegy.”

Neely: I just read Roth’s Indignation and it’s right up your alley.  It explores some of the same themes you explored in “Orpheus.”  It’s an absolute natural for you.  Is there a different skill set involved in adaptation?  Do you have a preference?

Nick:  It’s very rare that I get an original idea that I really like, although occasionally I do get one that’s a doozy.  I’ve discovered that I’m a born recycler, not just of paper and garbage.  I like working material like it’s a Rubik’s cube – reworking, rethinking, redoing.  It’s what you owe to a great novel, story or play.  It’s also interesting what you can do with a bad one where you owe much less.  Handel was once accused of stealing someone’s tune and his answer was, “It’s true; he did not know what to do with it; I showed him.” Adapting material is a vastly different mental and aesthetic procedure.  You need to end up with “cinema.”  You want the viewer to understand it without having already read the book.  Think of the first “Harry Potter” movie versus “The Manchurian Candidate.”  The first Potter film doesn’t really make sense if you haven’t read the book but Manchurian Candidate thrills those who have never read the Condon novel on which it is based.  It is the desideratum. I felt this way the first time I saw David Lean’s “Oliver Twist.”  I loved it and it made me want to read the book.

Neely: You have quite a few interesting projects in development.  Are they all in development hell or do some have a chance of being greenlit?  Which of those projects is closest to your heart and what is it about?

Nick: “The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt” – Taylor Hackford has indicated an interest in directing it; also “Crook Factory” which was written for Johnny Depp; and a film about George Washington.  Unfortunately they’re about people and they’re dramas and the studios no longer do people and they don’t do dramas.  The business changed in 1974 with “The Godfather” and “Jaws.”  All of a sudden you could make huge profits from films and corporations began taking over the studios looking for those profits.  As the late Senator Everett Dirksen said, “A million here, a million there, and all of a sudden you’re talking real money”!

Neely: You have worked sporadically in television over the years, having done some MOWs and mini-series, including the iconic “The Day After.” But within the last few years you have written several scripts for series television, two of which were written for Scott Free, Ridley and Tony Scott’s company.  How did that collaboration come about?

Nick: I met David Zucker from Scott Free.  He’s absolutely brilliant at developing for television and we started working together.

Neely: I also noticed that of your four prospective series, three were about lawyers and the fourth, “Orpheus” has lawyers in the background, notably the family from whom Guy is trying to distance himself.  So what is it with all the lawyers?

Nick: Basically all one hour television is about cops, lawyers or doctors.  I couldn’t even begin to write about medicine but I thought I might be able to fake lawyering.

Neely: Which brings us to the topic at hand – “Orpheus.”  I fell in love with all the possibilities of what it could be, all the while recognizing how risky that would be.  Since this was under the “Scott Free” banner, how did they feel about the story and series possibilities?

Nick: Well, they got it.  We did a Bible of the story arcs and they commissioned me to write a second episode.  “Orpheus” was supposed to get stranger and more angular; instead it ended up very flat when filmed.  This was a cautionary tale of being careful of the directors you choose.  Being a good director isn’t the same as being congruent with the material.  I have enormous regard for the talent of Bruce Beresford, but like Benton, he didn’t get what I’d written (or intended).

Neely: Since Scott Free’s deal was with CBS, you were locked to that network.  Was there ever any consideration for taking it to cable?  Today it would seem to fit into what Showtime is trying to do.  What kind of notes did you get from CBS?

Nick: David (Zucker) still believes in it and is trying to sell it overseas or trying to find someone who’s interested enough to have it redone.  He’s never lost interest and still champions it.  I have to say that CBS was very supportive at the writing stage.  They saw it as a weird romantic story and they also wanted to do a story about a cult.  You mentioned Scientology in your analysis but this wasn’t intended to be any specific group or ideology.  I had read a book by Anthony Storr entitled Feet of Clay about gurus and guru worshippers and I was intrigued by the idea that when gurus end up leaving, it’s usually with a vengeance – think Freud and Jung or Jesus and Judas.

Neely: Do you think things would have turned out differently if you had directed it yourself?

Nick: I wanted to direct it but…would it have been more credible or successful?  Who knows?  I had stopped directing following the death of my wife in 1993.  I had small children to raise and could no longer direct because of being responsible for them.  When I was ready to go back, I’d been away too long.

Neely: As I said earlier, when I was reading the script again I was reminded of the recent Philip Roth novel entitled Indignation.  It’s about the choices made by a young man, the same age as Guy, (the central figure in “Orpheus”), and the consequences of those choices.  In some ways it’s also about the rigidity and righteousness of youth – something you hope your own kids will survive, as this rigidity, righteousness and the consequences are a rite of passage for all of us.  Guy has placed himself in a quagmire, vacillating between the hardness of a true believer and the doubts of a rational man.  What do you think happens to true believers who begin to doubt the organization that has “love bombed” them?  Do you know where Guy was ultimately headed?

Nick: Well, at the end of the pilot, Guy is being chased through the jungle by men with guns!

Neely: Are you definitively through with this project or could you reimagine it in either feature film or novel format?  It would make a hell of a read.

Nick: No, but I will now.

Neely: So what’s up next?

Nick: Six months from now?  Right now I’m working with some writers on a series based on “Time After Time;” and I’m thinking about The 7% Solution as a series; and there are other movie projects.

Neely: Any more novels?

Nick: Novel writing doesn’t pay the bills.  I wrote The Seven-Per-Cent Solution during the writers’ strike of 1972 and The View From the Bridge: Memories of Star Trek and a Life in Hollywood” during the WGA strike in January of 2009.

Neely: I just finished reading The View From the Bridge: Memories of Star Trek and a Life in Hollywood and highly recommend it to anyone interested in the film making process, “Star Trek” and your own voyage.  You’ve had a great career with more to come.  Any other thoughts?

Nick: Perseverance counts for a lot.  When people ask me for tips about penetrating this business I always tell them: Be prepared to put in a decade.  I am also reminded of a great Napoleon quote.  A general was once recommended to Napoleon who replied “I know he’s good, but is he lucky?”  I’ve also been lucky.

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