John August

QandA

Show your work

Awards, Directors, Rant

For math and science exams, we were often required to “show our work” — not merely to prove we weren’t cheating, but to demonstrate we understood the underlying principles involved.

I’ve been thinking about this in relation to screenwriting. When it comes to making a film, the screenwriter’s craft is probably the most direct and transparent. What did you do? You wrote the script, the 120-or-so pages of Courier around which everything else revolves. Your work is front-and-center.

Cinematographers, production designers and editors can’t point to a product which is “theirs.” In the finished film, the light is lovely; the world is stunning; the pacing is tight. All wonderful accomplishments, but inextricably bound to the work of others. That wonderful light would go unnoticed if it didn’t highlight the sets, and the sets would be meaningless if the editor favored close-ups. And the contribution of directors, who marshall all these forces in addition to actors’ performances, is probably the most difficult to judge.

As a concise, pre-existing document, the screenplay is probably the only thing that can be judged independently of the finished film. Put another way, the screenwriter shows his work.

But the irony is, after the film is made, no one asks to see his work.

Indeed, we award “best screenplay” based on a viewing of the finished film. If the movie was good, we figure the screenplay was probably pretty good. We guess. Even though we don’t need to guess, because the screenplays for “award contender” movies are commonly available. But frankly, it would be a lot of work to read all those screenplays, so we don’t make that a requirement, even for the WGA Awards. The more honest award would be titled, “Best Film based on a Screenplay which was Probably Good, and Presumably Didn’t Get Messed Up by the Director or Others.”

Worse, we also presume that a bad movie came from a bad screenplay. At some point, I’ll fund a comprehensive study of film reviews from the past 10 years, tracking exactly how many times the film’s screenwriter’s name is mentioned. My gut tells me that the writer’s name is three-to-four times more likely to be mentioned in a negative review than a positive one. But I’d love to see data.

In the meantime, screenwriting will continue to be the most transparent and opaque part of moviemaking.

Based on an idea by…

Producers, QandA, Treatments, WGA

questionmarkSo, I’m watching “Gosford Park” and I notice that the film is “based upon an idea by Robert Altman and Bob Balaban.”

My question is: How does one get that credit? Do you have to do some actual writing for it or is it some sort of a vanity credit? (I assume it isn’t, because otherwise every producer or executive type would have a whole stack of those on their record.)

— Steffen
Nuremberg, Germany

Craig Mazin is on the screen credits committee, so he can likely answer this more thoroughly. But I can at least give you my take on it.

For feature films, the official WGA credits are “Story by” and “Screenplay by,” which can be combined to make “Written by.” ((There is also a very rare “Adaptation by” credit, which is only given in specific, complicated situations.)) When something is based on preexisting source material, like a book or a play, that original writer gets a “based on a novel/play by Original Writer.” ((Where it gets weird is when a movie is based on an earlier movie’s screenplay, such as a remake of a foreign film. There is ongoing discussion in the Guild about how to best handle this.))

Your instincts are right: Producers often have ideas for movies, but rarely do they get a specific, additional credit for it. However, if they wrote those ideas down, even in prose form, they could very likely get “story” or “source material” credit.

Per the Screen Credits Manual, the requirements for these two credits are as follows:

3) Source Material

Source material is all material, other than story as hereinafter defined, upon which the story and/or screenplay is based.

This means that source material is material assigned to the writer which was previously published or exploited and upon which the writer’s work is to be based (e.g., a novel, a produced play or series of published articles), or any other material written outside of the Guild’s jurisdiction (e.g., literary material purchased from a non-professional writer). Illustrative examples of source material credits are: “From a Play by”, “From a Novel by”, “Based upon a Story by”, “From a series of articles by”, “Based upon a Screenplay by” or other appropriate wording indicating the form in which such source material is acquired. Research material is not considered source material.

4) Story

The term “story” means all writing covered by the provisions of the Minimum Basic Agreement representing a contribution “distinct from screenplay and consisting of basic narrative, idea, theme or outline indicating character development and action.”

It is appropriate to award a “Story by” credit when: 1) the story was written under employment under Guild jurisdiction; 2) the story was purchased by a signatory company from a professional writer, as defined in the Minimum Basic Agreement; or 3) when the screenplay is based upon a sequel story written under the Guild’s jurisdiction. If the story is based upon source material of a story nature, see “screen story” below.

When you see a credit like “based on an idea by,” that’s clearly a “source material” type of credit. In the case of Gosford Park, it may have been the strange way Robert Altman shoots. Apparently, rather than a complete screenplay, they had a framework upon which his actors improvised, with screenwriter Julian Fellowes on set to help shape the scenes.

Regardless of the specific situation, I’m not a fan of the “based on an idea by” credit, and would like to see it stay rare. It over-emphasizes the vague conception of a movie, at the expense of the distinctions provided by characters, narrative, theme and action (that is, story).

For example, “a movie about the Civil War” is an idea. Gone With The Wind is a story. For them to have rough equivalence is absurd.

Tony Gilroy in The New Yorker

Film Industry, Genres, Story and Plot

The New Yorker has a terrific article by D.T. Max about screenwriter Tony Gilroy, whose films range from Dolores Claiborne to The Bourne Identity to Michael Clayton (a personal favorite).

I particularly liked his discussion about the challenge of writing a thriller:

Gilroy believes that the writer and the moviegoing public are engaged in a cognitive arms race. As the audience grows savvier, the screenwriter has to invent new reversals—madder music and stronger wine. […]

“How do you write a reversal that uses the audience’s expectations in a new way? You have to write to their accumulated knowledge.”

Definitely worth a read.

Raiders story conference

Directors, Film Industry

Reader Jonas tipped me off to this great post at Mystery Man looking at the 125-page transcript of the conversation between George Lucas, Steven Spielberg and Lawrence Kasdan as they first sat down to discuss the movie that would ultimately become Raiders of the Lost Ark.

I haven’t read the .pdf transcript — in fact, it’s hosted on one of those sketchy providers that I wouldn’t link to — but MMoF’s long post gives you ample excerpts and a lot of thoughtful commentary.

LUCAS: What I’m saying is that character just would not fit in a college classroom or even as an archeologist. He’s too much of a scruffy character to settle down. A playboy, or however you want to do it. He’s too much of a wise-guy, maybe that’s a better way to say it, to actually be a college professor. He really loves the stuff, but he became too cynical, he’s too much of a wise guy to fit into an academic situation, or even an archeological situation. He’s really too much of an adventurer at heart. He just loves it. So he obviously took this whole bent that was different because it’s just more fun. He just can’t settle down. It’s a nice contrast. It’s like the James Bond thing. Instead of being a martini drinking cultured kind of sophisticate, he’s the sort of intellectual college professor James Bond. He’s a superagent.

I’ve never worked with Lucas, but the snippets with Spielberg feel very accurate based on my interactions with him on JP3, Minority Report and Big Fish. He’s always looking for the little moments that click:

SPIELBERG: …it would be funny if, as they’re talking about this and the olives are between them, you see a hairy little paw is pulling olives off the plate, coming in and out of frame. Finally the paw comes up to grab an olive and begins slipping, like palsy. You use a little mechanical paw. And then you hear a thump.

The screenwriter’s role in marathon meetings like this is to listen and refocus the ideas. You’re trying to capture not just the plot points, but the enthusiasm. Fast forward a few drafts, and there will likely be torturous meetings in which every decision is micro-analyzed. But at this first step, the only goal should be mapping out the territory you want to explore.