A Tale of Two Producers

I relate this true story, with only the names changed to protect the guilty, to illustrate that the current status of the screenwriter in America is like the state of race relations: we like to think we've entered a new era, and then someone kicks us out of the country club swimming pool.

Back story: In 2005, a pair of independent producers - let's name them Mick and Nick, collectively known as the Power Couple - optioned an old screenplay of mine, a blackly comedic horror-thriller we'll call Funny Slasher.  The idea was to get it made cheap, and given that the Power Couple had no money, I optioned it to them for a dollar, with the understanding that I intended to direct it myself.

A number of rewrites ensued, written on spec.  The idea of me directing went the way of all winged pigs, given the difficulties of getting a left-of-center genre pic set up these days with a newbie at the helm.  The option was renewed, with me now receiving co-producer credit.  As casting and financing possibilities came and went, more rewrites ensued, the ostensible final draft receiving only the highest praise from the Power Couple, with the glowing accolades of their colleagues duly reported to me.

This past February, good news: I received a casting breakdown from Mick and Nick, with talk of setting up a table read for a casting director and some interested actors.  Readers of this blog may remember that I had a personal 9/11 on the 11th of that month, with both parents hospitalized after a car crash.  I informed the Power Couple that I was in family crisis mode and that they should proceed without me.

Some six weeks ago, crisis dealt with, I got back in touch via e-mail, eager to learn how the production was shaping up.  Oddly, it took them three weeks to reply.  Warning Sign #1: In this biz, good news travels fast and bad news sometimes has to be chased down and cornered; a three-week gap most likely meant that Something Was Up.  The reply, a phone message from Mick, contained Warning Sign #2: The Power Couple was eager to get together and talk, because "the script has been getting bad responses."

Perhaps you're familiar with the old cliché that it's a poor workman who blames his tools.  Why, one wonders, after my having done multiple rewrites under the Couple's own supervision, working in seeming accord with them for four years, would we now be hearing that there was a problem with the screenplay?

Thus, when the three of us sat down together last week "to talk about ideas," I opened the discussion with a query.  "I'm curious to hear," I told Mick and Nick, "how we got from casting breakdowns and a table read to 'bad responses to the script.'  I feel like I've missed a beat.  Can you connect those dots?"

What followed was a hefty dose of revisionist history (Warning Sign #3).  Apparently the whole process had been a steep uphill climb for the Power Couple, with the script getting bad responses all the way along.  Some people actively "hated it."  This was news to the writer (who had been wholly dependent on the Power Couple for such reportage), but being a game writer - who critiques scripts for a living - I asked, "So what's the specific obstacle here that we need to address?"

The problem, according to Mick and Nick, was the mix of genres.  Comedy people didn't like the horror, horror people didn't get the humor.  I noted (a little defensive?), that it was precisely this mix that had attracted the Couple to the project, and that comedy/horror was not without precedent, citing a little franchise-starter called Scream.  But okay, okay: Let's hear the notes.

Nick told me that they'd done something they thought would help me.  They'd shown my draft of Funny Slasher to another writer they'd been working with (call him Jack), wanting his feedback.  And Jack had done a set of revisions.  And they very much liked the new direction he'd taken, though they felt he'd gone off the rails in the third act.  So, here was Jack's draft (along with, thoughtfully, a CD-Rom of the Final Draft document for me to work with), and given that they liked what Jack had done but thought perhaps I could do better...

Reader, please forgive me, as I've tried to forgive myself, for my own bad behavior.  Though I try to be Mr. Cool, Calm & Collected in all business endeavors, due to the fact that my head was exploding, I lost it.  I remember drawing a big circle with a slash through it in the air, as I explained (a little emphatically?) that one simply doesn't deal with writers like this, let alone one who was supposedly a partner (on legal paper, a co-producer) who had been writing for them on spec for four years.

Mick got contrite ("I'm a lousy producer," is what he actually said) and Nick got compassionate.  "Billy, I understand," he told me, "because I've been in your position before.  I've been rewritten, and - "

I think we can stop the tape right here, can't we?  I don't have to explain to you, as I did to Nick, that in my job doing project notes for a studio, I'm often the one crying "fire this writer!" and dealing with drafts of major features that are cluster-sucks involving 17 writers, that perhaps their having gone behind my back and given the project to another writer while I was at the hospital awaiting my father's surgery just might give me pause, that being rewritten was not the issue. 

"You did it wrong," is what I told them, and this is what got reiterated in our final conversation a few days later, a conference call in which Nick was at their office and Mick was in his car, about to drive through Monument Valley.  

Since the Power Couple had already decided to renew the last year of their option and I had no out clause (I know, I know) and I had read half of the awful, incoherent, piss-on-it-to-make-it-mine draft by Jack the Hack, I informed them that I was out of there, merely demanding that they insert a "Revisions by..." on subsequent title pages and that they let me know if there was ever a check to cash.

Things got a little heated again when they asked if they could show me the drafts to come, to get my feedback.  Somewhere toward the end of my there'll-be-a-cold-day-in-hell diatribe, Nick and I suddenly heard a "The number you have reached is currently out of service; if you would like to leave a message - "
recording, and Nick said, "I think we've lost Mick."

Indeed.  Though I feel bad for Nick, who was left holding the bag and had to endure, after his sincere apology, hearing me channel a bad genre movie and snapping, "Well, actions have consequences, dude, so deal with it!" - a line I'd never delivered before and assuredly will never repeat - it's Mick that I keep thinking about.

I picture him behind the wheel of his car, coasting down the long, beautiful straightaway into Monument Valley, that technicolor desert vista of a thousand Westerns, home to cowboys and Indians and gunslinging varmints of every kind and creed.  The sky is blue, the clouds are splendid, the giant buttes are casting their majestic purple shadows in the distance... and there's an angry screenwriter rasping in his ear, going on about how he can't support Mick's version of this movie and how this inept draft isn't going to solve Mick and Nick's problems, and -

I see him cut the phone call off with a jab of his finger as he drives into the late afternoon sun, shaking his head.  "Fucking writers," he says to himself.  "They spoil everything."

Comments

[E.C. Henry]

Sorry you didn't have a more favorible outcome, Billy -- and at a time of personal heartache no less. BUT at least you're in the game.

Chin up, you got an option. Hopefully your next foray into seeing your own hard work on the silver screen will result in a more favorable result. IF I were you I'd lean more heavily on the fact you've written a book on writing romantic comedies. THAT is sure to impress and SHOULD lead to open doors for you to pitch your work.

- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA

[J]

Oh, my GOD.

How do people like that function on a mammal level, let alone get somewhere in Hollywood?

I hope you have emergency Xanex for times like that.

[karen from mentor]

Billy,
I think you handled that admirably under the circumstances.
(there was no blood, right?)

Plus you got a hell of a blog posting out of it.

hugs to you sir,
Karen :0)

[Scarlet Hip]

I have some friends here in Jersey that could take care of this for you for a small fee.

[Judith Duncan]

Hi Billy,
You've taken what was obviously a painful experience and turned it into a wonderful fable of warning with the right amount of humor.The term cluster-suck made me laugh out loud.As an idealistic newbie hoping for the time when I 'Make it',as I scrounge out a living at part-time jobs,I'm going to print this out and stick it in my diary.This will help me keep my feet on the ground when I get that first nibble of interest.

:)Judith

[Bhurn]

Which is worse: signing a $1 option or crossing genres? Because I will walk away from my comedy/noir right now.

[Anna from Sweden]

I want to thank you Billy, from the bottom of my heart, for this honest and painful and wellwritten post. As you might know I'm an established screenwriter in Sweden and I do well, sharing my time between my own stuff and jobs that pay the rent. I love what I do. Still: this job is a nightmare sometimes (especially when shooting is coming up soon and everyone is depending on you and time is short, as for me right now). It means a lot every time I realize that the biz in Hollywood is exactly the same as here - only much bigger, of course. I have developed my own strategies to avoid some of the traps (such as getting notes from 10 people with different opinions, being criticized from everyone...) I've learned to be prepared for just about everything. I'm sure I'm not the only one feeling somehow touched and healed reading about this awful experience that you generously shared with us, although I'm sorry for you. Wish you luck with other projects! Write another novel! And please, continue to write about reality in Hollywood. You are exceptionally good.

[Dave]

Sounds like reality is the real horror story. I imagine these are the same people who wonder why LA is referred to as la la land.

Hope you are able to get it off the ground elsewhere Billy.
cheers
Dave

[Barbara]

"Cluster-suck" is a keeper!

[daveherman]

Wow Billy, what a horror story! Thanks for being brave enough to share it with us. I don’t generally go for writer-as-victim stories, because the distinction between an authentic cry of pain and excuse for not having done the work, is sometimes muddy.

In your case there’s obviously no doubt that you did a huge amount of work in good faith, for no pay, and were subsequently given the Last Tango in Paris treatment.

I’ve had some pretty awful experiences myself (I live and work in Holland) and I recently seriously looked into the possibility of self-producing a script I co-wrote, precisely for this reason. However, when I discovered in detail what producers actually have to do, I realized I’d rather write, despite the drawbacks.

I only hope you still have faith that there are producers out there with integrity. Oh, and when you find one, give me their number, will you?

Take care,

Dave

[mernitman]

EC: More favorable results would be nice...

J: Actually I do, thanks!

Karen: The avoidance of blood - there's looking on the bright side, alright!

Scarlet: What a sweet, warm and fuzzy offer!

Judith: Glad to be of service.

BHurn: In truth, the crossing-genre thing is a tough one (the dollar option is mere foolishness)...

Anna: Thank you so much from the bottom of my battle-scarred heart.
Writing well is the best revenge.

Thanks, Dave: One never knows how it may go...

Barbara: Sadly, the studio seems to feel the same way.

Dave: Still looking...!

[AJA]

Billy, just catching up with this one. Oy. When Julia and I get back to town, we'll sit. We'll eat a bagel. With a smear...