How many execs does it take to change a light bulb?


Does it have to be a light bulb?

I've been posting a lot of comments lately. Without apology this is how I roll during long periods of procrastination.

This is a great post, Scott. I can feel those words in my soul. I do have a question about the Jack Daniels though.

I feel like everyone jokes about drinking and writing but when the rubber hits the road, I also feel like I'm the only one who actually indulges with oft frequency during times of darkness (or perceived darkness). Is everyone just kidding around when they're talking about a small reliance on the bottle? Am I really the only one who finds occasional solace in the dark misty warmth of a good (or cheap) bourbon?

Is everyone just kidding about the drinking or are the jokes a quiet admission in search of companionship. Because if it's the latter, I'm here. I'm always here.

On a whim, I just Googled the words "drunk writer." And these are the top items:

Drunk Writer Talk: A blog.

Top ten drunk American writers

"Drunk writers were better sober" scientist says

There is that longstanding image of the hard-drinking writer, pounding out prose while pounding down booze. Hell, you need go no further than the current Showtime series "Californication" with its protagonist Hank Moody to see that stereotype in full bloom.

The subject deserves fuller treatment and probably an entire post, but two things come to mind: (1) Writers try to access parts of their brain / soul / essence that non-creative types don't. For some, it may be easy. Others, not. We are taught and trained to buzzsaw through life with a logical, linear, task-oriented mindset. That's not conducive toward reaching those creative parts of who we are. So there is a natural drift, I think, in writers to loosen up their consciousness through the form of stimulants. (2) Writers put a piece of their soul in front of other people to judge whenever we hand over pages for assessment. It's not an accountant doing your taxes, a book or screenplay represents an essential part of who you are as a human being. So when you get hit by criticism, it's hard not to not take it personally. There's therapy (which most writers I know do). There's kicking your dog (not recommended). And there's things like alcohol.

My guess is many if not most writers indulge in the occasional drink as either part of their loosening the creative or getting through the rewriting process.

Any others out there care to weigh in on the subject? Or should we just move this discussion to a formal post?

University creative writing workshops create the same problem. Usually, part of a student's grade consists of giving notes on other students' work, thus those notes may be forced, irrelevant, or devoid of true consideration. But a writer does not HAVE to address any of the notes. The principle power structure involves the teacher, who in a strong workshop will be trained to offer notes and will (again, in a strong workshop) read each piece with great attention. Even given notes from a teacher (strong or weak), the student's sole objective is to improve the writing or story. Of course, one's grade may suffer if he or she ignores a teacher's note or a note agreed on by a majority within the workshop. A weak workshop could harm a student's work rather than improve it.
When producers or other talent politicize the revision or development process, as in a weak workshop, the objective changes. The original intent—to create a cohesive entertainment that will reach the greatest possible audience— is mired by sundry interests, fear, and laziness (or just plain distraction). Contriving notes on a script to justify your job could result in some good changes without tampering with the story's primal entertainment. Pitching chopped onions from across the kitchen, hoping to land them in a saucepan heating oil, is one way to start cooking.
David Milch discusses so well how the ego must step aside in writing. When the writer becomes the least powerful voice in the revision process, multiple egos stand over the writing. Worse still, weak egos, motivated not even by vanity or hubris, but fear, can take over. Hollywood sticks to its guns and continues pushing writers down the power structure. The natural argument would be that the process continues to be profitable. Pick your cliché: if it ain't broke, don't fix it. I would posit that, by and large, the industry continues making money because film is among the greatest technological leaps in any "industry" (theater can be staged anywhere and a single performance reproduced infinitely and anywhere). For the industry to stop profiting (at least overall) from its films (and to even stop expanding into new international markets), would take an act of God or a collapse of society. The industry does not make money because of its development process, but in spite of it.

@James: Terrific comment. You get at the heart of one reason why it's known as "development hell."

For the past two years, I find myself sitting in movie theaters stewing over the fact that being there is costing something more precious than money. These movies are eating up time that I will never, ever get back. If you include all that goes into getting to the theater, a film can take up to four hours of life that would be better spent elsewhere, anywhere, including things as mundane as housework or as unpleasant as a dental visit.

A big part of the problem is seeing turning points coming and predicting what they will be. More and more, this is starting to smell like development hell at work. Too many cooks, too many middle managers - pick your analogy. The fact is, there are scads of people armed with the same template and some flashy lingo all trying to justify their jobs. Hitchcock spoke about film being a pipe organ for emotion. Push this key and you will illicit this response in the audience. However, when watching a Hitchcock film, I don't feel like I'm being played. Lately, I know exactly what the filmmakers are trying to get me to feel, which completely shatters my suspension of disbelief. Battle L.A. was awful for this. Watching it, the beats were so formulaic, you knew when it was time for heartfelt speech, you knew who was going to die before they did, you knew when a small "humanizing" moment was called for and why that was supposed to make you bond with the character. It's like seeing the stitches in a fine piece of clothing or the puppet master hovering over the stage pulling the strings. It starts with the readers and their checklist and goes straight up through the layers of management that are making most of today's Hollywood "hits".

And people are catching on. Attendance is down. Catch phrases ripped from film don't float around the general public the way they used to. And when people unaffiliated with film find out I'm a screenwriter, the bold ones will ask why movies are so bad these days. The movie industry will sink itself the way the music industry did if it doesn't wise up and stop making decisions by template, but let artists be artists again. Sure - it's show business. We all get that, but, in the tug-of-war between art and business, business - with it's dependence on rules and metrics and focus groups, best practices and ROI - is kicking art's ass, which will only come back and chew through business's bottom line. I'd be happy to have a real auteur change my work, but these middle managers are not auteurs. They're middle managers.

Oh - and it's not the fact that I've been studying screenwriting for three years that lets me see exactly how the puppet master is pulling the strings. Whenever I watch an older movie (five years ago or more works as a good baseline) I can't see what's coming in the same way. Ghostbusters was on TV this week and I watched it for the first time since I was a kid. It was a pleasant surprise when the Ghostbusters ended up thrown in jail, with the containment unit open and spilling ghosts all over NYC. The "don't cross the streams" bit was an obvious plant (though I'm not sure I'd have seen this without knowing so much about screenwriting) but the crisis point felt like an organic crisis, one that made sense when it happened but what not predictable. Good stuff Ramis and Ackroyd. Good stuff. And I'd bet this movie was heck of a lot less "developed" than today's major releases.

Ultimately, I hope some major study comes out pointing to movies being more profitable with less people involved at the development phase. Don't know how this study would actually work, but I think the money people would back off if this kind of white paper came across their desks or iPhones. And the fact that the latest news says studios are doing less development because it's so costly and are seeking "ready to go" scripts may signal a return to a more auteur/artist driven paradigm.

@Annika: The degree of the OP's exaggeration aside, there are some smart people in the development process in Hollywood. Likewise there are some ineffectual writers. So it's a two-way street. But in a parallel universe where the original writer's vision of their original screenplay is allowed to reach the screen pretty much unimpeded, those box office numbers are 48.7% higher than the B.O. numbers in this universe.

You're just going to have to trust me on those numbers.

Most script notes aren't as bad as you'd think. Generally, they are coming from a valid place even if the note is "This sucks. Change it."

Execs also tend to scattershot notes. You can usually get away with not addressing all of them. They also tend to forget what their previous notes were.

Also, fixing one thing will usually fix several problems.

There are dumb notes. Notes that don't make any sense. Let these slip by.

I think this is the biggest thing writers forget -- It is your project. Blindly addressing every note is probably the worst thing you can do. Figure out what the notes really mean -- and see if you can fix the problems.

An off the cuff story: Dmitry Lipkin turned in a draft of The Riches that had rain in it. This was his first show. Iain the producer is a nice guy and gave him a lot of leeway on things. But he had to tell Dmitry that rain was too expensive.

Dmitry agreed. Went upstairs. Came down later with a new draft. Iain flipped through it -- Dmitry had made all the rain scenes into scenes set in the SNOW.

Iain had a mini panic attack. He didn't know whether or not Dmitry realized that snow was expensive as hell! And didn't want to start off the production on the wrong note.

Turns out Dmitry was just having a laugh. He did it as a joke. Iain was very much relieved. And it created a bonding moment for the staff.

You're gonna get notes. Most of the time they are just practical things and concerns. Remember, this job is supposed to be fun.

In case example of horribly impeded version is of use, just came across this unsettling tale about the live action Akira remake: http://www.cracked.com/blog/the-actual-live-action-akira-script-worse-than-you-think/

Just a thank you note. I'm writing my first spec, and your blog is invaluable for squashing some of my unsubstantiated fears while also seeding fresh kernels of terror.

Suckitude, and Lunches, and Script Notes - Oh my!

The great news is that by the time I finish, I'll have a realistic idea of what to expect when I go pitching my horseshoes.

Thanks again Scott for this fantastic site!

@Zoe: Congratulations on finishing that first spec. You appear to have a good sense of humor, always helpful when dealing with the ups-and-downs of writing. I wish you all the best. In fact, here's a tidy little blast of creative juju to help get you to FADE OUT. Swoosh!!!