John August

QandA

Reading reviews

Go, QandA

I was wondering,
do you read reviews of films you’ve worked on? When you’re in a bookstore,
do you go to the film section and check out how many stars Maltin or Ebert
have given the films?

–Brenton

Thanks to the Internet, not only can I read what Maltin and Ebert say about
my movies, I can find out what the Pioneer Press and the Times of London thought.
And yes, I read them obsessively when the movie comes out, to the point where
I’ll be at my computer from midnight until 2:30 a.m. reading the Friday morning
reviews online, before the papers are even printed.

In addition to the "Reviews" links on IMDB, I love Rotten Tomatoes
because it gathers the reviews from thirty or forty different sources. I also
read the "User Comments" section on IMDB,
and sometimes the various be-your-own critic sites.

Honestly, my fondness for reading reviews is more a function of pride than
vanity. I don’t get excited reading my own name, but rather seeing what someone
thought of my baby. And of course, my attachment varies based on my involvement.
For GO and CHARLIE’S ANGELS, I was a veritable soccer mom. TITAN A.E., on the
other hand, was like a friend from summer camp you were never sure you’d see
again.

What a “pitch”

Pitches, QandA

Would sending a baseball with a phrase written on it
like "how about
hearing my pitch" be a creative addition to an inquiry letter? Or would
I stand out more as a novice?

–RLB

After an informal poll, 100% of my development friends picked "novice." Sorry.

Only once in my life did I perform a stunt during a pitch. I was trying to
get the assignment to write "How to Eat Fried Worms," so I brought
in a container of worms and dumped them right out onto a plate. Considering
the whole movie hinged on how disgusting it would be to eat worms, the visual
reinforced the idea.

But truthfully, my pitch was pretty good, and I probably would have gotten
the job without doing anything weird. On the whole, you’re much better off
refining (and shortening) your pitch than figuring out the right prop to go
with it.

Film vs. TV writers

QandA, Television

Is there a big difference between being a film writer and a TV writer? Do
you pretty much only do one or the other?

–Alex

Increasingly, many writers work in both film and TV, either simultaneously
or at different phases in their careers. Good writing is good writing, so the
likelihood is that if someone is a good film writer, she’ll be a good TV writer,
and vice-versa. But there are some important differences between the two mediums.

Writing for series television means following a prescribed format, whether
it’s a sitcom or a one-hour drama. There are true act breaks to allow for commercials,
a limited number of recurring characters and sets, and an overall mandate about
what kinds of stories can happen. Television writing is generally collaborative,
with a group of writers contributing to that week’s script, under the supervision
of a producer called the "showrunner." The pace of television writing
is much, much faster than film writing, because there’s a continuous need to
keep up with production. In many ways, being a TV writer is like having a real
job, because you’re working office hours — although they’re often quite long
office hours.

Writing for film has far fewer limits on structure, storyline, characters and tone. It’s also a much more solitary endeavor, because aside from occasional
producer note, you’re off doing the work by yourself on your own timetable.
Some writers thrive in that freedom, while others become paralyzed by indecision.
Usually, a film writer is paid per draft, rather than per week as a TV writer
is, so dawdling can be costly.

There are other important differences between film and TV work. In television,
you see your work on screen every week. In film, you’re lucky if you see it
on screen once a year.

On film, you get to use your characters for two hours. On TV, you get to use
them for a hundred hours or more over the lifetime of the show.

In film, the writer has very little say in the final execution of the work.
In television, the writer supercedes the director.

Now, true confession time. After the success of GO, I created and ran a one-hour
drama on the WB network. While the circumstances and personalities surrounding
that show were uniquely unpleasant, even in the best of situations, I could
never, ever see myself running a television series again. While any project,
film or TV, is going to involve some compromises, television is nothing but
compromises: not enough time, not enough money, not enough energy to fight
the same battle for the 43rd time. And if you’re writing a show about cops,
then by default you’re not getting to write that space epic you’ve always dreamed
about. So you’re compromising your own aspirations as well.

I have friends who truly enjoy their work in television, and manage to pull
off a film career as well, so it can be done. But in answer to your question,
Alex, some people are better off doing one or the other.

Script length

Formatting, QandA

Your advice of 110 to 120 pages for script length agrees with what others
say, but upon sampling a large number of films I find their lengths usually
fall between 85 and 115 minutes, including five minutes of credits. At a minute
per page, something doesn’t click. Do producers expect 15 extra pages because
they feel scripts usually have fat that needs trimming? Or perhaps producers
know that during script development, writers find it less distressing to eliminate
scenes and hope no one notices, rather than turn them into something far removed
from the original vision. Just a thought.

–Ryall

It’s true that a lot of movies clock in at 100 minutes or less, and that the
one-minute-per-page rule of thumb really depends on whose thumbs are doing
the measuring. Moviemaking is more art than science, so it never holds up to
much mathematical scrutiny. Whatever the reason for the discrepancy, I assure you
it doesn’t come from producers trying to spare writers’ feelings.

One variable that really effects running time is pacing. GO was about 102
minutes long. The script was 126 pages, and almost nothing was dropped. The
movie never dawdled, however, which is how it got the story told so quickly.

Even movies that end up at 85 minutes probably began as screenplays in the
110 to 120 page range. In the course of production, or post-production, scenes often get cut. Either they are never filmed, or they end up on the cutting
room floor, just waiting for the DVD version.

Since scenes are going to get cut, why not just start out with a shorter script?
It’s not a bad question. In television, where programs have to be delivered
to the network at a precise running time (at ABC, it is 42 minutes, 20 seconds
for a "one-hour" drama), it is obviously preferable to avoid shooting
scenes that couldn’t possibly fit into the allotted time.

In terms of features, however, anything shorter than 100 pages "feels" too
short. It’s literally just not enough pages in your hand. And if you go much
beyond 120 pages, people get nervous. Even if it’s great, it feels long.