OC Screenwriters Association

A scene is a basic unit of scriptwriting; put enough scenes together and you have a sequence. A few sequences and you have an Act - enough Acts and voila! - a script. 

There’s almost a one-to-one ratio of pages to scenes. Checking a few scripts I finished recently I find about 100-110 scenes per script. That’s pretty close. All those scenes need to function at a pretty high level so your script doesn’t get bogged down.

There are many possible scene functions - foreshadowing, information, action, comedic, etc. but all scenes should serve one of four masters for them to work properly:

The principles of scene conflict:
    1) Surprise or Shock
    2) Curiosity 
    3) Tension
    4) Suspense

We would like to have a creative tension in everything we write - this would be an ideal, something to which we should aspire. There are those scenes that you think won’t be shoved into that constraint but it is *essential* never to write a scene just to give information. That’s not film.

So how to elevate our scenes? Apply one (or more) of the four principles to them:

Let’s take the easiest of the four terms to define: surprise or shock. Director Alfred Hitchcock defined surprise as a bomb the audience isn’t aware of under a table suddenly exploding and suspense as knowing about the bomb and waiting for it to explode - good enough for now.

In “The Untouchables” Brian DePalma working from a David Mamet script opens on a little girl going into a bar to get her father some beer. While we’re amused and distracted at the idea of this since something like that wouldn’t happen today, DePalma is quietly at work setting the behind-the-scenes scene.

A man sitting at the bar notices the little girl but says or does nothing beyond exiting the bar. We’re probably still not suspicious of this since it’s such an innocuous moment and mood.

Then the bar suddenly explodes. Welcome to Prohibition Era Chicago. Hold tight - we know it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

That’s surprise - more like shock probably but it wonderfully sets the tone for the film and the Wild West nature of Chicago at that time. If you don’t think something is going to happen in a scene and it happens, then you are surprised or shocked. The ending of the fine little gangster film “Layer Cake” has an interesting surprise in store for us at the end. Check that out too.

Curiosity is easy too. What’s perhaps not easy is applying at least this simple principle to every scene but this is a fundamental - no excuses. If someone is sitting around talking and nothing else is at work in that scene then it’s going to be as flat as yesterday’s beer. Your audience must be curious at the very least about the information and if possible, that information should be setting up a future moment that’s going to work the other three principles into it.

You’re following Clive Owen’s character as he heads for his morning train in the film “Derailed.” Being the whip-smart movie watcher you are, you know this is the setup for something but then again, lots of lazy directors have had entire sequences of people riding a train for no good reason so it may not be anything either.

But it is.

On the train, Owen meets Jennifer Aniston. Since we don’t know either character and there is no emotional charge to this moment, it’s a curiosity moment - how will Aniston and Owen interact? The scene is absolutely necessary but it doesn’t create shock, tension or suspense. It does however pay homage to our little list and create curiosity.

In the incredible film “Girl With The Dragon Tattoo” (the original one) there’s a scene where an old, rather staid gentleman is given some information while walking with another man in a business environment. They end up in a conference room with a woman who we find out is a central player. At this point, we don’t know this. We don’t know why the man is there, who the woman is, why she’s dressed in leather in this corporate environment or a dozen other things. It’s an incredible scene and you could no more turn the movie off at this point than you could an amazing car chase or fight scene - and yet, no one is shot, maimed, slapped or anything else - it’s just people talking. However, the principle of curiosity is applied like a thick layer of Nutella and you eat until you’re full.

Same applies to the opening of the movie in which an obviously rich, old man receives a framed presentation of pressed flowers. He sees the picture, breaks down in tears. Curiosity. We want to know why. Why would something so innocent have such an impact on this man?

Easy enough. Now we get to the knotty two - tension and suspense.

Most of us use the words tension and suspense interchangeably. A dictionary defines them differently as so should we as writers, especially for the sake of our scenes.

Let’s both generalize and specify immediately and say tension has lesser stakes than suspense. Tension is more likely to be a precursor of a suspense scene that either immediately follows or soon after.

An example of both is easy to find in the very well-written “Rescue Me” series.

Okay, so Tommy Gavin, an unrepentant drunk and womanizing firefighter, goes to his on-again, off-again mistress Sheila’s apartment to tell her that they’re finished. Tommy and his wife are reconciling and Janet, the wife, has laid down the law - no more Sheila. Tension is already simmering because we know the history of these two and their wild ways, emotionally and sexually. 

The scene is wonderful. Tommy and Sheila snipe at each other all through, trading insults and hard truth. We sit through it not only because it is well-written but also that given their history of sexual explosiveness we can pretty much figure out where this one is going. Sure enough, after Sheila challenges Tommy’s kissing ability comparing him unfavorably to her current boyfriend, Tommy’s cousin Mickey, they end up on the couch with Sheila’s dress off and Tommy between her legs. So much for his vow to his wife to stay away from Sheila. This is classic Tommy Gavin.

With Tommy and Sheila about to take this current passion to a whole ‘nother level, in walks Mickey, Tommy’s cousin and Sheila’s current BF.

Now there’s gonna be trouble. But not yet - Mickey turns and walks out and both Tommy and Sheila are crazed but for different reasons. End episode.

So, this then is tension, a precursor to the harder-edge and higher-staked suspense. Sometimes you get the convivial partners, tension and suspense, together in one scene or scene sequence. Sometimes they are separated by many minutes or pages. And sometimes you just get tension and no suspense - or even suspense and very little tension preceding it. An example of this would be a killer stalking someone to kill them - say the generic Victim #2, a throwaway character who needs killing. Gotta have some victim fodder. Anyway, those types of scenes can be suspenseful without being tension-preceded.

So, next ep we get the suspense as Tommy goes home to dinner. “Anyone call?” he pseudo-innocently asks his wife, Janet, dreading that Mickey would have called and busted him for being on top of Sheila. “Nope.” “No one, really?” “No, now sit down to dinner.” Tommy does so happily thinking that Mickey didn’t do what he had feared.

Janet calls the other daughter to dinner and when the younger daughter comes into the kitchen, guess who she’s got in tow - yep, cousin Mickey who just “happened” to come by to visit. And Janet has invited him to stay for dinner knowing how much he likes pasta.

This then is suspense as surely as those men have guns under the table aimed at the other. Mickey tortures Tommy, ratcheting up the suspense until it’s almost unbearable. He continually mentions Sheila in seemingly innocuous ways, causing Tommy to choke - or fake it - so he doesn’t have to respond. Tommy does such a good job at faking that he actually begins to choke - now it’s getting physical, which is also another way to tell tension from suspense - suspense ends most times in a physical expression.

Janet yells at Mickey to help Tommy as he’s choking and in the process of giving Tommy the Heimlich maneuver, Mickey is also mercilessly punching Tommy in the kidneys - unseen by Janet and the girls, of course.

And then the trigger to the moment is pulled and the fit really hits the shan - Sheila comes over, sees Mickey beating Tommy and rushes in confessing to Mickey (and Janet) that he saw wasn’t what he thought it was.

A puzzled Janet says that Mickey was just helping Tommy unstick food - what the hell did she mean? Sheila realizing her mistake wilts.

Game on. Now the stakes are even bigger because a new player has been introduced - Tommy’s wife who has been through this many times with him.

Tommy and Sheila are interrogated mercilessly - and this section does go on too long because it reduces the wonderful suspense they’ve built up. But yeah, Mickey finally pops Tommy in the mouth and like the climax to a sexual union, the payoff to the suspense buildup is spent.

  Below, following, is an example of suspense with no preceding tension - but, and this is key, there is implied tension because the characters have been defined properly. And perhaps I shouldn’t say “no tension” because there’s a small build-up to the climax of the suspense - what I really mean is this scene can sit by itself without any earlier setup.

In “Kill Me Again” a neo-noir film about betrayal by John Dahl, Michael Madsen playing the psychopathic, Vince Miller (does Madsen ever play anything but a psychopath?) is trying to find out where his money has gone. It’s in the hands of Val Kilmer and Joanne Whalley-Kilmer who have pretended to be murdered and run away.

The scene, in the middle of the film, opens with Madsen having tied up Kilmer’s friend - the excellent character actor Jon Gries - in a chair. We know that Madsen isn’t a nice guy; we anticipate violence and so it goes. After burning Gries with a cigarette numerous times to force him to reveal the couple’s whereabouts, Madsen summarily cuts his throat. Suspense is delivered on in brutal fashion. There is internal tension to the scene but really no preceding tension.

So, can you see the difference? It’s really degrees mostly. Tension can be a precursor to suspense but suspense is rarely, if at all a precursor to tension. We know Madsen is nutso-cuckoo so the scene with him cutting Greis’ throat doesn’t necessarily create more tension except that we do now know that perhaps Madsen will be that much closer to finding the cheating couple.

And when he does find the couple shacked up in a hotel, there is a tremendous amount of tension, but really, no suspense. Watch the movie to see the scene but honestly you never feel that overwhelming sense of suspense that you did in the scene where Madsen had Gries in a chair. This is an unfortunate function of our medium - you’re pretty sure that no one who is central to the story is going to get killed so suspense in scenes like that is reduced to simple tension.

How about one more example - one that combines all four principles:

The insanely good "The Long, Good Friday" features British mob boss/powder keg Bob Hoskins on the eve of a big deal with an American Mafia counterpart facing disaster; all his pubs are blowing up and he has no idea why.  Having had enough, he orders his thugs to bring in the usual suspects so he can question them.  After gathering, when the next scene opens, said thugs are in a meat locker, hanging upside down.

Shock - who expected these guys to be questioned while hanging upside-down on meat hooks?  It's a moment you will never forget.

Curiosity - what will he do and what will be revealed when he questions them.  We're just as confused as he is although we do have a hint or two that the mob boss doesn't.

Tension - that's pretty obvious.  Hoskins starts off mild-mannered and reasonable but it is amazingly painful and tension-filled to continue to watch these men hanging from hooks while they are being questioned.

Suspense - the longer the scene goes on, the more certain you are of a climax of horrendous proportions.  I won't spoil the scene for you but it's worth the wait - but perhaps not in the way you imagine.

Brilliant, brilliant filmmaking.  You are in nail-biting, skin-picking agony for the entire scene.  This scene - the entire movie - uses all the principles to great effect.

To recap:

   1) All your scenes, to be effective must use of at least one of these four techniques to make them snap. Simply delivering information in a scene will never do. You’ll lose your audience. It’s lazy writing.

   2) All four techniques are also very dependent on timing. It is essential, in fact. Delivering the surprise or shock too late or two soon kills it. Not building suspense up enough really just gives you surprise or shock.

   3) Tension and suspense are dependent on some backstory or understanding of the situation or characters to be effective. Surprise and curiosity don’t really need either.

   4) Tension is not as serious or extreme as suspense. Suspense is going to get someone physically involved, perhaps hurt or killed - tension may hurt some feelings or result in a good bonking but it’s rarely never more than that.

The next time you’re watching a particularly effective film or TV sequence, try to identify one of these four elements. The more you see it, the more you’ll use it.

Good luck.  

Robert Rollins is a man on the move. Just ask him - he’s more than (enthusiastically) willing to tell about the dozens of projects he’s either done, has in production, or is in pre-production with.

A prolific writer and producer Robert takes his craft very seriously. He doesn’t just sit around and dream about being a filmmaker, he wakes up every day and thinks to himself - “How can I get ‘The Magic Hourglass’ and ‘Lanterns for the Dead’ done?” “Who can I talk to who will fund my productions?” “What can I do next that will get my company, Robert Rollins Pictures noticed?"

The key? “Flexibility and keeping yourself open to all possibilities,” he says as we’re having coffee at Kean Coffee in Newport Beach.

“Like when I was doing ‘Pumpkin Hollow’,” he says, “a film no one but I believed in. I didn’t have any idea where I was going to get a set designer who could make my film look good.” “Set designer?,” he laughs as he remembers, “I couldn’t even afford to rent a pumpkin stand for the film so I had to build one out of old wood in the backyard myself.

Then the problem of what to fill it with came up and all I could think of was how much it was going to cost to put pumpkins inside it. But because I had bronchitis, we had to push the shoot to after Halloween and I managed to get all the pumpkins I needed because no one really wants pumpkins after Halloween. I ended up with three hundred pumpkins in my condo - that was a bit surreal.”

Robert has an infectious manner. It’s hard not to be enthusiastic along with him when he’s detailing his many adventures as an independent filmmaker. His love for what he does is evident - it informs his face and brightens his eyes, triggering that engaging smile of his. He is always intense but never overwhelming.

“My love for movies started when I was a kid. I’d let myself be absorbed into those worlds and disappear. It was magical. I know now that it’s a lot of hard work, but in many ways, it’s still magical and will always be.”

Who were your role models, your influences, I ask. “Rudi Fehr (video) was not only my mentor, but was my dear friend.

I met Rudi in my freshman year at California Institute of the Arts - I was taking editing. Rudi and I became friends instantly even though he was many years older than me. He saw something in me that he had in himself - a unabashed love for movies and a willingness to work hard to get to my goals. He gave me more than I could ever give back to him. He’s passed on. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss him.”

For once, Robert’s million-watt smile fades as he remembers his friend and mentor. “Rudi listened. Always. It’s something that he taught me to do - listen more, talk less,” Robert says with more than a twinge of sadness. “I can never forget how much he meant to me. Never.”

Rudi Fehr was an immigrant to this country who joined Warner Brothers in 1936 as an editor. In 1952 he became a producer and was elected to the board of governors of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences. He also did many of Warner’s foreign language adaptations. In 1980 he joined Coppola’s Zoetrope Productions and in 1984 he cut “Prizzi’s Honor” for John Houston - a film that garnered him an Oscar nomination.

I asked Robert to give me 3-4 quick tips for aspiring filmmakers:

1. Ask for it - whatever “it” is. You can’t be afraid to ask for what you want in this business because no one is just going to come up and say “here, take this.”
2. People believe in something when they see it. A script, a short, storyboards - when you make it real for yourself, you make it real for investors. Do the initial work and the selling part will go much easier.
3. Stay flexible - nothing, and I mean nothing, goes according to plan. The only thing you can count on is that it won’t be as you imagined or planned it to be.
4. Adapt, don’t collapse. If you’re defeated by a crises, you can’t succeed. Be like a pinball and bounce. But don’t go down any holes.  Keep moving and bouncing
5. Goes without saying - love what you’re doing. Of course, right? Your passion impassions others. Just like going to a baseball game and having the people around you jump up and cheer and you do too, people will catch your enthusiasm and stand with you. Maybe even cheer a little.

  
What are you working on now, I asked him as we clear away the pastry crumbs from the table.

“‘The Magic Hourglass’ and ‘Lanterns for the Dead’ are my latest projects. I am currently in the pre-production phase of the short film ‘The Magic Hourglass’ and we will be shooting in November.

The story of ‘Hourglass’ is a sort of prequel that follows the characters from ‘Lanterns of the Dead.’ Once completed the short will not only be shown in film festivals and posted to the Internet, but will be included as part of the business plan and investor packet we have put together to raise financing for ‘Lanterns for the Dead.’ And I cannot wait to stand on the set, to feel the magic that film brings, and say the word ‘action’ again.” 

Robert is on the board of directors for the Orange County Screenwriters Association. He is also involved in theater and working on a play script and heading off soon to be lecturing at a film class at Fullerton College.

Since no one succeeds without the help and support of friends, Robert asked if he could acknowledge the following people who have helped and continue to help in his goal to rule the film world:

Robert and Deanna Rollins
Rudi Fehr (in memory)
Edward Fik
Phil Martin
Joseph Guimond
Craig Russom
Jeremy Borum
Steven Oda
Ken Hobbs
Barbara Horvath
Don Dalis
Christopher Dominguez
Mark Reid
Chris and Kathleen Eric

Here are links to Robert’s projects and videos:

Robert Rollins Pictures

Facebook

IMDb

Vimeo

YouTube 

Since this is the beginning of football season, I’m going to use former Rams/Cardinals quarterback Kurt Warner to illustrate a point about our business. There are many differences, true, between football and film but there are also a lot of similarities.

I think we all have a little voice in our head that says one of two things loudly and the other thing softly. If you’re doing well or have an inordinate amount of arrogance or confidence then the loud voice is saying “I’m a star.” The small voice in the back of your mind is saying “I suck” because there’s always this sneaking suspicion that you’re not as good as you think or others say you are. However, if you’re failing or lacking in confidence at the moment then reverse those - the loud voice is saying “I suck” and the small voice is saying “I’m really a star.”

I myself alternate constantly between those loud and soft voices. Many times, I’ve said to myself - I am a star - my work is fantastic, I’m at the top of my game and nothing I’m doing is wrong. Then, a cold reality hits me in the form of someone rejecting my work and that loud voice becomes “you suck” but the small voice still believes I’m a star - it’s just been drowned out by circumstances.

  Kurt Warner must have had this same situation many times.  His story.

INSPIRATION
  Kurt, a man from a small town, after a fairly undistinguished high school football career attended the University of Northen Iowa and was made a third string quarterback on his college football team - which means, dead last in the depth chart. When he was finally given a chance to start in his senior year (after three years of riding the bench,) he did so well that he was named Offensive Player of the Year by the Gateway Conference. I’m sure at that point he was saying “I’m a star.”

Warner went undrafted out of college but was given a chance to work out for the Green Bay Packers in 1994. Unfortunately, he was up against another future hall-of-famer Brett Favre and got nowhere in training camp. His quarterback coach at the time, SuperBowl winning coach Steve Mariucci liked Warner and said he had enormous potential but then also told him he wasn’t ready to be an NFL quarterback. Little consolation to a man who has to go back to his family and admit he didn’t make the cut.

When no other team would give him a workout, Warner went back to Iowa and stocked shelves for $5.50/hr. and also found work as an assistant football coach at his former college - just to keep in football. All the while, he never stopped looking for a way to get back into the game he loved more than almost anything else.

PERSPIRATION
He found work as a QB in the Arena League. Not exactly the NFL - not even really close - but it was football, sorta. Warner took advantage of the quicker nature of the AFL to hone his skills, doing so well that he was named to the AFL's First-team All-Arena in both 1996 and 1997; years in which he led the Barnstormers to Arena Bowl appearances (that league’s Superbowl.) His performance there was so impressive that he would be named twelfth on a list of the twenty best Arena Football players of all time.

Wanting to get back into the NFL, Warner requested and got a tryout with the Chicago Bears - they were willing to see him now based on his amazing stats as a QB in the Arena League. But a spider bite caused a serious injury to his elbow and Warner once again was out of the NFL before he had a chance to show what he could do.

  At this point, Warner could have easily given up. That little voice ("I suck") was probably becoming much louder. Self-doubt about his chances as an NFL QB had to be creeping in. It’s particularly daunting when you see people around you doing well and climbing a ladder that you can’t even find let alone put your foot on. We cannot help but measure ourselves against others - but that is wrong-minded.  Kurt Warner only ever measured himself against himself even when those voices said "you suck."

Warner was eventually signed by the St. Louis Rams but not the NFL team - the, at the time, farm league called NFL Europe - a wasteland for players who teams think might work out but in whom they lack enough confidence to actually sign to an NFL position. Instead of cursing his situation, Warner flourished - he lead the league in both touchdowns and passing yards distinguishing himself and forcing the Rams to take notice of him.  Inspiration, perspiration and...

DETERMINATION
Kurt was finally brought into the Rams team as 2nd string QB - pretty good but not the starting QB. Hotshot Trent Green was. But at the final game of the preseason, the highly-touted Green - in whom everyone on the team had placed their hopes - went down with an injury. The Rams and everyone else thought the season for the team was done.

They didn’t account for Warner’s fire and his passion to show everyone they had been wrong about him all these years.

“The Greatest Show on Turf” was the name they eventually gave Warner’s offense which set records for highest completion percentage, most yards in a single game and many other equally impressive records. He is considered to be one of the greats in the pantheon of NFL QBs and is almost certainly a Hall-of-Fame inductee when he becomes eligible (you have to be out of football for three years to become a Hall of Fame candidate and Warner just retired last year.)

Warner’s story continues to be one of the more inspirational ones in any profession. As quarterback, the leader of the team, he eventually took the Rams to a Superbowl marking them as one of the premier teams in the league while he stood behind Center. He did suffer an injury during one season but came back to set even more records in passing and completions.

When the Rams released Warner thinking his best days were behind him, Warner went to the New York Giants who had gone 4-12 the previous year.  Under Warner during the first seven games, the Giants were 5-2.  But Warner, for reasons not clear, was benched in favor of young up-and-comer Eli Manning.  The Giants went 1-6 when Manning was quarterback.  Not exactly inspirational.  To his credit, Warner never disrespected the coach, Manning or the decision to bench him for a much less ready QB.

The Arizona Cardinals, a one-time junkyard of football players, took Warner after the Giants released him early out of his 2-year contract, not as the starter but as a veteran backup.  However, he performed so well, taking every advantage of his opportunities, that he quickly was made a starter under Coach Denny Green and eventually led the Arizona Cardinals, long considered to be a league joke, to a Superbowl that they almost won, only losing a close game by three points against one of the powerhouse teams of the NFL.

Can you see the parallels here? Can you understand that wanting something is the first step to achieving it - but that wanting it is not enough. You have to work hard for it. Warner’s work ethic was unparalleled - he threw and threw and worked until he was perfection itself. But even that’s not enough. You have to stay at it no matter which voice is shouting at you the loudest because not all of us make it on the first try; or the second; or the tenth.

Inspiration - see the dream. Visualize it.

Perspiration - learn your craft. get your “chops” to a point where you can do it blindfolded. How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice goes the old joke.

Determination - do not quit. Do not give up simply because you’ve not gotten to where you think you should be or where someone else is. The trap here that so many fall into is seeing someone else’s progress and measuring yourself against that person. No, no no! My martial arts Sensei says your opponent is not out there somewhere - he is the person staring back at you in the mirror. Osu, Sensei.

The next time you’re ready to give up, remember Kurt Warner, completely out of football and stocking shelves in an Iowa grocery store - and then flash forward to him hoisting the Lombardi Trophy at the Superbowl just a few years later and eventually, taking his place among the greats of his sport in the Pro Football Hall of Fame - the highest achievement any football player can aspire to.  When Warner ascends that stage to unveil his Hall of Fame bust, knowing all the greats that came before him, understanding that he was once considered "not good enough" to succeed - if he isn't overcome with emotion, doesn't break down in tears then he'd have to be made of stone.  

Warner was only able to accomplish what he did because he never gave up and he stayed strong in his skills and his attitude. And when that “I suck” voice got loud and obnoxious, Warner pushed it aside and said “I may not be a star yet, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be one.”

Perceive, believe, achieve.   It can be done - whatever the dream - just remember that it may not be easy and it may not be quick.

 Just ask superstar quarterback and former stockboy, Kurt Warner.

 Wow! Upcoming events for the OC Screenwriters Association...more details

LINK LINKLINKLINKLINKlink

Info on some events coming very soon - please check back!

Not all of these are directly film related - some are just fun like the beach party and the zombie walk. There will be more specifics later - this is like a "save the date" reminder. http://www.ocscreenwriters.com/newsletter/newsletter_20100825.htm

One of the things I think screws me up most is expectations. I expect family to react or to be a certain way. In relationships, I’ve had issues with girlfriends who turned out to be different than I thought they’d be - all my fault. It’s not them, it’s me. Me and my stupid expectations.

The film business is no different. We hear stories, we read articles and books - we expect it to be a certain way. And we’re almost always wrong.

You cannot imagine what this business has in store for you. No one can tell you, prepare you for the highs and lows, especially since everyone’s experience is totally different - and even if your experiences are similar, the business changes with the speed of light so similar means nothing.

I’ve had an unusual career. It started when I was hired to write a film on assignment. A lot (most) people break in by selling a spec script. I didn’t. I did have a solid writing sample that led to me being hired but I also had to pitch and juke my way into the job. The film company interviewed fifty writers and I got it - then I had to write it - then I had to rewrite it. Then I had to listen to a director (not the one who ended up directing it) and an actor (who is now thankfully out of the business) tell me the story didn’t and would never work (they were wrong.) I had to fight and scratch and claw my way to my first film - I never thought that would be the way it happened. I figured I’d write a good spec script, someone would buy it, and I’d be skip-dancing on the Yellow Brick Road to Emerald City.

Expecting the film business to embrace you in any way, shape or form is a formula for disaster. Once I finished my first film, it took me almost two years to sell anything else. And then I was paid fully ten times LESS than my first film project - which wasn’t a lot of money to begin with.

Just because your buddy or this dude you know sold something or worked for someone who gave him or her a job - or whatever - won’t mean anything when or if it’s your turn.

You’ll have these expectations - you’ll think: “Well, this is what my teacher told me” or “I’ve heard the stories, I’m ready.” You’re not. It might be worse than you imagine or a thousand times better than you imagine but it will not be whatever you imagine. You need to learn right now not to “expect” anything.  

We all want to succeed; we all want that killer experience or story - like that Shane Black’s mom or roommate took his unfinished script out of the garbage and made him finish it and it became “Lethal Weapon” (maybe true - I can’t remember what Shane’s said about it.) Or that Harvey Keitel “discovered” Quentin Tarantino while he was working in a video store (not really although he did give him quite a leg up) - or whatever it is. My story is simple and sorta boring. But sitting in those writing classes back in the day, or talking to my friends about what we hoped our experiences would be, I could never have predicted it. My anticipations, expectations, were so completely wrong and different than my reality that I honestly don’t know whether I was disappointed or happy about it at the time. Probably mostly confused, truth be known. I do know that I am grateful for the way it went because it made me the writer I am today.

Let me mention this story that appeared today in the sports section of the L.A. Times. Jerry Rice, the San Francisco 49ers Hall of Fame receiver (he’s being inducted today) worked with two Hall of Fame passers: Joe Montana and Steve Young. But there was someone who threw him more passes than either one of those great quarterbacks combined - equipment manager, Ted Walsh.

Times sports columnist Sam Farmer wrote this very good article about Walsh who was left-handed. Having worked with Joe Montana for many years, a right-hander, Rice needed someone to help him transition to a left-handed passer (Steve Young) after Montana went to the Chiefs. The ball spins differently from a left-handed QB and makes it harder for a receiver, most of whom work with right-handers. Enter Walsh - he and Rice worked endlessly simulating the different passing rotation. The article credits Walsh with making Rice the Hall of Famer he is today. Maybe that’s true and maybe not - Rice was and remains one of the most incredible and hard-working receivers to ever play the game. But imagine Walsh’s career. Imagine him thinking ahead to what his football life would be - his expectations. Under no circumstances could he have predicted a time when he’d be considered one of the most important men on a football team filled with some of the best coaches and players ever to play the game. And all he did was show up, work hard, and roll with it.

I’m sure you all know this stuff. The older we grow the more we understand that reality is never what we imagine it to be. Some learn this early on - for some it takes more time. All I’m really saying here is that no one, including you, can predict your career path - and that you shouldn’t try.

Just keep your head down, do the work required of you, and the rest will sort itself out.  Fight the good fight and you'll win because whatever the battle you won't take it for granted, you'll just perform.  

“Luck is when preparation meets opportunity” is my favorite saying. If you’re prepared by writing every day, reading scripts and watching movies, you’ll be in exactly the right place at the right time when that moment comes and it will not ever disappoint you. It will, however, be different that any of your expectations. This I promise.
 

My latest screenplay is finished. It’s been spelling and grammar checked, reviewed by some trusted people, registered with the WGA. It is currently the best it can be. It is unique, has mass appeal, and the potential is obvious. I think so, anyway. The next step is a tough one – I need to get a producer to read it and to do that I need to pitch it to him/her with a high concept logline and synopsis.

Okay, that’s cake. Simple. Just come up with a single one-liner that will capture a producer’s attention with minimal word count and maximum impact. Then have a tight but descriptive synopsis as a follow-up.

First thing I do now is panic. So if you’ve come to me looking for some great words of advice or sage wisdom, you’ve knocked on the wrong door in the wrong neighborhood. My bona fides are that I’ve had three novels and over 70 short stories and non-fiction articles published and I co-wrote a screenplay that was optioned. Yep, I was paid real option money for a screenplay. The option lapsed and the movie was never made but I was in the door. For about one minute. In Hollywood, I’m unknown and unproven and, sometimes more than I like to think, unwelcome.

Back to the task at hand - I have to come up with a pitch that will get a producer intrigued enough to want to take my screenplay home over the weekend with the three dozen other screenplays he has to review. Once there the screenplay will have to stand on its own but the right pitch will get it added to the stack.

The next thing I do is go to Google. Type in “High Concept Pitches” and 307,000 freaking results pop up that include those three words. I read that the pitch should be one sentence, one to three sentences, 25 words or less, use other movies as reference points, don’t use other movies as reference points, you should instantly be able to see the whole movie, I should buy this man’s self-published book on the art of pitching, I should attend this woman’s seminar on pitching in Hollywood being held in Butte, Montana next week.

Pitches for movies based on books, news articles, biographies, graphic novels, old TV series, computer games, and amusement park rides won’t help. Although inspired by recent news stories and factual research, this is an original work.

What are some good pitches that worked? It doesn’t matter whether I liked the movie or not. The pitch got the screenplay read and a movie was made and that is the important item at the moment.

Let’s take a look at some pitches:

“Snakes on a Plane” – that is a terrific title and a terrific pitch. It tells you exactly what you need to know about this particular screenplay. The title was going to be changed but when actor Samuel L. Jackson found out he said, "We're totally changing that back. That's the only reason I took the job: I read the title."

Some other pitches are:

“JAWS in outer space” – “DIE HARD on a bus” – “DIE HARD on a U.S. naval aircraft” – “in a world where technology exists to enter the human mind through dream invasion, a highly skilled thief plans his toughest job” - “while flying over the Atlantic ocean, a woman’s daughter vanishes and nobody admits she was ever on the airplane” - “a young man living in the projects wins a lottery worth $370 million” – “a classic fairytale collides with modern-day New York City when a fairytale princess is sent into our world by an evil queen” – “the secret life of toys when people are not around”. Some good examples here.

Okay, enough with research. I could spend more time researching than it took to write the screenplay. Time to gather my notes and thoughts.

The screenplay is titled Borderland. It is an action-adventure story. More accurately it’s a shoot-‘em up. It was inspired by recent news stories in Arizona. So the story is topical and I think it’ll be topical for quite a while to come. I did a lot of research for the story but it is not a documentary or an editorial. All right, it may have a couple of opinions expressed but it’s basically a men-with-guns tale where some stuff gets blown-up real good.

Basic plot: In the desert, along the U.S/Mexico border in Arizona, a four-person National Guard fire team goes on patrol with a veteran Border Patrol officer and a news reporter. After arresting two illegal aliens, a young sister and brother, they encounter a group of hardcore drug smugglers. Major gun battle occurs and our heroes capture a drug captain and 200 million dollars in cocaine. But the last of the smuggler gang and the people the drugs were being delivered to come after them.

Do I feature the desert setting in my pitch? One character has a pretty good line I could use: The desert has its own laws and doesn't care whether you're man or beast, good or bad … break them and you die.

Or use an oldie but goody: Ripped from today’s headlines.

Maybe stress the main character: National Guard Sergeant Michael Cooper survived two tours in war-torn Afghanistan to meet his deadliest adversary at home.

Maybe I should condense the basic plot outline down to 25 words or less:

In the desert, along the U.S/Mexico border in Arizona, a National Guard team goes on patrol with a veteran Border Patrol officer and a news reporter and encounters hardcore drug smugglers.

A bit on the passive side. Goes on? Encounter? Is that the best words to use? C’mon, try again. Use active words this time.

How about: National Guard. Border Patrol. Drug smugglers. The Arizona desert will run with blood before the day is done.

Not quite there yet. Put all the ideas together and see how it looks.

Logline: Sergeant Michael Cooper survived two tours in war-torn Afghanistan to meet his deadliest adversary along the U.S./Mexico border.
 
Well, nothing’s in stone but that’s it. That’s my high concept pitch. Now I “just” have to write a professional and short query letter and organize a list of producers who might be interested. More cake. Nothing to it. Which shelf did I leave panic on?
 

Our friends at MCAI sent this over.  

More details available: HERE

Sign up: HERE

The August 18, 2010 Meeting of MCAI is All About Audio.

We’ve booked four top OC experts. They’re masters of field production, live performance, recording, mixing, editing, sweetening, scoring and post production audio.

Got equipment questions? Music? Dialogue? Voice Over? Sound FX?

As always come early for networking over light food and bring plenty of business cards, headshots, resumes, etc.

COST: Non-MCAI Members pay $17 at the door or $12 if prepaid via PayPal at the OC New Media Meetup Group http://www.newmedia.meetup.com/82/ MCAI Members are FREE  

EVENT: MCAI Meeting ALL ABOUT AUDIO”
DATE: Wednesday August 18, 2010 
TIME: 6:30 PM doors open. Program starts at 7:00
LOCATION: OC SOUND STAGE
17518 Von Karman
Irvine CA 92614
 

My office overlooks the street in front of my condo. I enjoy watching people pass while I work - mostly. When the words are tough to come by, nothing amuses me, period. I growl at everything. Tweeting birds hear it from me for being too damned loud; garbage collectors (why do we need seven on every block) must think I’m certifiable since I’m standing in front of my glass doors screeching at them or the gardeners with those insanely irritating leaf blowers.

Being a typical, open Eastside Costa Mesa neighborhood, there are no street walls so the endless parade of humanity is available to me: new mothers walking off baby weight, joggers, people with dogs of all shapes and sizes, and kids heading to and fro on mysterious journeys.   

Three young skateboarders and their girl pal - all about thirteen - came by yesterday. They all had that wild, windblown look of kids on a mission to get into trouble or find something they could illicitly claim as their own. Sure enough, one of the intrepid explorers focused like a heat-seeking missile on a packing/moving box that a neighbor had dropped for trash. Being a clothing box, it was long, thinnish and had a metal bar for hanging clothing inside. I inwardly groaned thinking I knew what was coming next.

As predicted, one of the boys quickly decided that the box needed its ass kicked - or so I thought - and set to it. The one with the metal support began beating it and I figured it was only a matter of moments until I had to go out there and do some crowd control in the form of “get the hell out of here, you freaking, little hoodlums.” Not only were they distracting me from the script I wasn’t writing, they were having fun - and I wasn’t.

Then, as I watched, their plan began to take shape and I saw what they were actually trying to accomplish.

Brilliant, I thought, as the form and function of it emerged. When the holes for the arms and face were sufficiently cut out using the crude hammer/hanger bar and they slipped it over the wild-haired towhead’s body the plan was complete - a skateboarding robot.

The boy in the box began to laugh hysterically when he realized he couldn't put his arms down so an adjustment was quickly made by beating the arms holes bigger. The cardboard simulacrum was now almost ready for its street shakedown.

Problem: The tape that had once held the box top closed was no good. The robot’s shape was lost every time said top popped open. My sliding door was cracked slightly so I could hear the discussion and the possible solutions which included heading to someone’s house for tape. But no one wanted to do that so the robot was probably going to be left abandoned and unfinished; the sad end of the glorius street theater they were in engaged in.

Hmmm.

They all spun toward my opening front door and stared at my semi-grizzled face (no shaving that day).  I had a scowl plastered on my face and a 'tude wrapped around my body.  Two of them began backing away as I stepped toward them.

“What are you thinking?” I said, noting the nascent defiance in the leader’s eyes. He was already covering the girl slightly for her protection - this had all the makings of a pissing contest/turf war.  

I took another step, brought my hand forward. Things were gonna get ugly.   “You need good tape”, I said as I held up a roll of silver duct tape.

It took a few seconds for this fact to sink in - this guy, me, was an ally not an enemy. One of them smiled broadly, thrust his arms into the air and said, “YES! Finally! Someone who isn’t grumpy.” (I swear to God)

I had made four instant friends who were thrilled that I was helping to complete their mad dream of the skateboarding robot. “Someone has to take a picture,” I said. “I’m on it,” said their girl pal and then she thanked me for the tape - three times - gushingly - as did the others.  I couldn’t have not smiled at that point if someone had had a gun to my head.

I honestly hadn’t been any happier than those few moments with these kids in quite a long time. The unadulterated (that word seems particularly fitting here) joy and gratitude in their faces transformed my day, my week - perhaps my year.

I taped the top of the robot with the boys surrounding and helping like a pit crew at NASCAR and then went to get my mail a few feet away. When I came back, they had the carboard box situated on the crazy volunteer and the two other boys stood proudly by him on either side while the young girl snapped a photo.

My mind snapped that same photo of the two boys hugging their robot skateboarder buddy while their girl pal acted as a support unit memorializing their triumph for all time. I only hope that the photo somehow survives to their adulthood where they can reminice about those glory days when a box in a driveway became a project that bonded them for an afternoon. Maybe they’ll even say, “Remember that old dude who had the tape and...” And I’ll be memorialized too.

The effect of all this distraction was I was able to sit and write - the temporary block had been broken. 

I often wonder where my ideas come from. The past, I posit foggily. Now I’m a bit more informed. They come from everyday life - hourly, daily, weekly, life. So my takeaway on this - the world has some of the sweetest, unexpected moments you could never imagine. Just be open to them and they will come. And they will pay you in a coin that at some point can be cashed though your subconscious mind and directly into your work - or at the very least, provide a thoroughly pleasant distraction away from it. 

THE SKATEBOARDING ROBOT (a work in progress)

FADE IN:

EXT.  STREET - DAY

THREE YOUNG BOYS and a YOUNG GIRL skatboard down a sidewalk in Southern California.  Suddenly, one of them spots a carboard box and heads for it.

I’ve been going to ComicCon since the early 90's when a film company I was working with sent me down to talk to the creators of a comic book that they wanted to produce into a movie (yes, we were making movies from comic books even back then.)

It was simpler by many degrees in the 90's - not the overcrowded zoo it’s turned out to be in 2010. In some ways it’s awesome to behold these days but it’s become so crowded and impacted that going at times seems like an exercise in futility.  They just need more space (or less greed from packing in every vendor in the Universe.)

This year I went down on Saturday and my traditional Sunday with my friend Kevin. I ran the streets of the Gaslamp District with OCSWA board member Eric Hensman and Itai Levin. Eric was hawking his Zombie Flesh Jerky and Itai agreed to participate, in full zombie dress, in the Zombie Walk that starts at Horton Plaza and ends up at a zombie-friendly bar, Quality Social on F and 6th Street. I just humped equipment back and forth and tried to stem the non-stop sweat from the unseasonable humidity that poured from my body. Thank goodness for an air conditioned bar and plenty of icey libation.  This was all for fun and a good cause so support your local Zombie Walk. (info)

Traffic is a given on the way to S.D. - you get it going down or coming back. On Saturday it took 3+ hours to get there; on Sunday it took 2.5 hours to get back to the O.C. Everyone has  their theories as to the sudden onset of traffic on the 5 on any given day - Del Mar race track opening, summer Mexico day trips, escaped zombies - there was even a swarm of bugs on the 5 freeway that we suspected might have contributed to the stall out of San Diego.  Every year I say I’m going to get a hotel room and/or take a train down to the Con. And, of course, every year it’s the same tedious drive, park and walk to the convention center.

Since it took much longer than we anticipated geting down to San Diego on Saturday I was only able to pick up my badges and do a quick visit to J. Michael Straczynski’s talk before the Zombie Walk.

I decided to harass him by asking him the most idiotic question I could come up with - “Changeling II,” I asked with a straight face, “when?” Joe, an industry friend, seemed momentarily perplexed and said with outraged conviction, “Never!” I thanked him and left immediately prompting him to get laugh from the assembled with an even more perplexed look and then noting in most stentorious voice that I had stood in line for 30 minutes just to ask that one stupid question.

Joe’s a great sport - he knew I was trying to get a laugh at his expense and, as always, gave back as good as he got. His Q&A’s are always funny and entertaining with him riffing brilliantly off the fanboy/fangirl questions. This year he talked a lot about Wonder Woman which he was hired by DC Comics to reboot.

Unfortunately I missed OCSWA friend Kevin Sorbo who was signing autographs at the Lightspeed booth on the floor on Saturday.

The Zombie Walk was truly great fun - it was my first time and although I didn’t go with the zombies as they shuffled through the Gaslamp (I had too much of Eric’s Zombie Flesh Jerky gear in my care) the spirit at the start point was amazing and it continued until the zombies made it to the bar well into the night. The Quality Social Club was in full compliance with the zombie milieu and made them all feel welcome - kudos to the management and staff for creating a great undead watering hole. Having been to this one, I’m going to make sure I do it again. I want to find those cute zombie girl Starbucks baristas again and try to get them to foam my latte.

Sunday I went early to walk the floor with my buddy Kevin. Although I heard many OCSWA members were there, I ran into no one - except everyone else on the planet who seemed to converge on the convention center floor. At one time, as my friend noted, when you came on a Sunday you had about an hour and a half in relative comfort. Noonish and things would get heated up and crowded. No more. We hit the floor at 10:15 and couldn’t move. I am still astounded at the attendance - this year had to have set records as it has every year for a while. There’s talk about moving the show to Anaheim which is a larger venue; honestly, although I would welcome the space and the closer drive, it probably wouldn’t be the same.

What’s increased the buzz around the Con over the years is all the movie and production companies. Since the major (and minor) companies have committed to announcing, showing and doing other promotional endeavors at the Con attendance has skyrocketed. This, to my mind, has both improved and destroyed the Con. The organizers have relegated the big timers to one end of the convention floor and good luck trying to get to anything. It’s simply wall-to-wall people. I almost lost an eye when a bamboo bo stick alarmingly swung my way on the back of some character from an obscure movie or comic book. Plus, not to put too fine a point on it, but those with, uh...gastrointestinal issues should perhaps invest in those underpants that kill escaping methane. Yuck. Next year, I’m thinking I’m going to dress up like a character with an oxygen mask to avoid the toxic clouds that seem to sit in the aisles waiting to ambush the innocent.

As usual, my friend and I had missions for the Con. I was doing my usual business schmoozing and Kevin was looking for a Captain America glass since he had broken his last one. Plus, both of us being casual collectors, we’re always on the lookout for comics and graphic novels. Okay, so when you say it aloud it seems silly but trust me, having a mission of any kind makes inching your way through those aisles a bit more tolerable.  Well, that and the Princess Leia slave girls.

This year I avoided grabbing all the free swag that I normally get (and then eventually toss.) I did get a big giant bag and a lanyard (love lanyards) from the funny lady creators of “Heroine Addict” but I carefully did not fill it with anything beyond the few comic books/graphic novels I bought (R.I.P., Frank Frazetta - impossible to imagine his pen is stilled forever.)

One of the best things about the Con is the people you meet. At one point, Kevin and I went for some cardboard-textured nachos with jalapeno cheese goo and a pizza that had been flavored with red and green. That’s the only way I could describe it since whatever it was flavored with was not familiar to me - and I’m of 100% Italian heritage.  Calling it pizza was perhaps the biggest stretch of the entire show.

We shared a table with a cute 18-yr-old (slightly geeky) girl from Utah who we had fun talking to. She was at her first Con with her sister and boyfriend and had apparently had enough since they were still on the floor but she was quietly lounging at one of the food courts waiting for their return. She was sweet, funny and enjoyable to spend some time with - especially since we couldn’t actually eat the food we’d overpaid for. Kevin managed to apply a glob of radioactive-yellow, cheese goo right to his white shorts in the crotch area which led to a few hilarious and inappropriate comments - and Utah geek girl was right there with us in her own disarming way. Good luck to her and her impending college years. Maybe we’ll see her again down the road as a grizzled veteran of the Con.

This year was marred by some alarming geek violence as someone apparently hopped up on too much cheese goo and Coke stabbed another convention goer with a pen at the “Resident Evil: Afterlife” panel. Initially it was reported that the stabbing was in an  eye but thankfully it turned out to be just a scratch. I’m now praying that nothing remotely violent ever happens again - it would just kill the joyous geekdom celebration that is Comic Con.

The San Diego Comic Con runs in late July every year for four days (Thursday-Sunday) and sells out these days every year so get your badges early and take a train down - you’ll save money and frustration (parking is between $17.00-$25.00 and is sometimes hard to find.) In 2013 the contract with the convention center runs out and then both Anaheim and Los Angeles have expressed interest in taking the Con away from San Diego. And that could happen since the San Diego Convention Center is (and has been) maxed out.  They need at least 1.5 times more floor space to be comfortable.

With exhibits, talks, seminars, autograph signings, premiers and a hundred other things to do, Comic Con is simply too big to take in even if you go all four days. Olan ahead by using the online tool provided by the Comic Con website.

I had a lot of friends on the floor or in the upstairs rooms and I saw none of them (except JMS.) But you go, you do what you can, see what you can, eat some cheese goo, and the rest you hope you’ll catch next year or the year after. It’s certainly a sometimes frustrating experience but on balance it’s just a lot of damned fun.