What next for UK Film & TV? - A Response to Ewan Morrison and John McVay

Crystal balls are not much help right now, as everything is in flux and could go any which way. June looks like a make-or-break month: thus far, VE Day and other bank holidays haven't lead to an explosion in cases, but will that hold true as kids go back to school and shops reopen?

On the Film & TV side, it's also very touch and go: Soaps are developing strategies to shoot and keep elderly actors off as much as possible, with Emmerdale resuming operations last month, Coronation Street next week and Eastenders aiming to do so by June's end. What's more, Warner Bros., Disney and Netflix are working with the Tory government to restart in the next month or so, with safety measures, on major productions like The Little Mermaid and Matt Reeves' The Batman. Ideas being put forward include skeleton crews for filming; actors doing self-makeup; floor markings; minimizing stunts; prioritizing outdoor shooting and favouring local crews.

But that's now - what about new productions? What kind of shows could be made? Well, the BBC ran a piece, interviewing several high-profile industry folk on that question. Among them were screenwriter Ewan Morrison (The Outlaw King) and PACT boss John McVay, who voiced thoughts and concerns. The main ones being settings for shows, as well as scale and logistics.

Both raise valid and important points: the bigger the project, the more headaches it will be to keep everyone safe. The reduction in spectacle, too, could lead to some more creative filmmaking and storytelling that isn't reliant on eye-candy to woo audiences - indeed, such a cost cut from budgets could lead to some leveling of opportunities for lower-tier writers to staff on more prestigious shows, now that you don't have to fret so much over money. Morrison's remark about seeing more shows in both smaller yet more fantastical locales like space or underwater could lead to a resurgence in domestic genre programming, which is great for nerds like me who want more homegrown sci-fi and fantasy (and even work on them...).

From my end, I think the idea that we could be entering an era of more conservatively budgeted shows that could, as a by-product, take more risks (in slight difference to Morrison's view) is a huge-plus for new talent, an issue that both Film and TV have, admittedly, not done a great job of engaging with. Apprenticeships and prizes are all well and good, but newcomers need solid, professional credits to get anywhere. That said, this is still a short-term solution: like it or not, you can only reskin a confined show so many times before people will want to see dragons and armies again. A healthy industry, regardless of circumstance, is one that produces a variety of content - too much in either high or low is bad for creatively, careers and culture. Expensive shows limit who can work on them, but cheap ones will only be able to take on so many people. In addition, depending on the show, certain people may get left out altogether: make-up artists, special effects artists, set designers, costumers, stunt people etc.

Like it or not, McVay must know that eventually, big shows will have to start up again. You're dealing with months, if not years, of contracts, deals and other paperwork behind these big-timers, and far too many types of professionals who need the work. You obviously don't want sets to become outbreak points, but this, like so much else in the Covid pandemic, is the result of various societal problems crashing into each other. I think this present anxiety is based on an idea of Covid remaining exactly as it is right now, which no version of the science, optimistic or pessimistic, supports. As discussed before, our understanding of Covid has rapidly changed, and relatively fast. Even if we don't get a vaccine by year's end, we will likely have measures, and probably treatments, in place to file off the worst parts (ala HIV).

As for Morrison's 'resurgence of big-budget animation' prediction, I'm going to have to err on no from a drama POV (though Morrison doesn't specify what age-group he's indicating: does he mean a four-quadrant British Pixar, or a return to the more experimental days of Watership Down and The Plague Dogs?) Anyone involved in animation fandom has seen this crop up many times over the years - the odds of the BBC or ITV making what amounts to British Anime (animation meant for a prime-time audience that isn't strictly comedy, to pick up the current need for drama shows) is pretty much a non-starter. Amazon and Netflix might (and have) in small doses, but by the time you could get a dramatic show animated, the live-action industry will likely have found workarounds on how to shoot, thus rendering it moot in most cases.

Plus, working from home doesn't mean the process'll go any faster in creating regular cartoons and adult animated series - material still has to be vetted, altered and given notes, in addition to all the pre-planning like designing, storyboards and animatics.

In so far as Morrison's worries over Covid being an excuse for producers to double down on adaptations - on the one hand, that's a real risk. In times of trouble, people stick with what's familiar. People who already bemoan our TV being dominated with novel adaptations have every right to feel frustrated, and that IP value is only going to increase as companies need to carefully marshal resources and pick the best project to get a return on.

At the same time, however, I do think we must be careful not to adopt a dismissive attitude (especially not after Morrison advocated a progressive stance with genre content earlier in the piece) - in times where money will be tight and people, including and especially children's, access to the arts is going to be impacted, Film and TV could pick up the slack and introduce classic works to new generations. How many of our favourite books, sometimes the very things that inspired into creative careers, came out of us watching the movie or TV version first? And, frankly, shouldn't creating quality productions matter more than where they came from?

Something which the article doesn't touch on much, but anyone active on Twitter and the like has seen, is the indie debate. There, the question is could this be a new golden age for independent films and content that can be made with few resources and people? Some seem very confident in it, and I see the rationale, but there's a flip side: these projects may be more open and able to social distance, but the lack of money also means less PPE and safety measures can be put in place. how many actors and filmmakers are going to gamble on a project which pays little-to-nothing, just for exposure? (if anything, the golden age could be for audio productions.)

It will be tough - you're effectively rewriting decades worth of habits and practices in a matter of weeks. For newcomers, it's a scary time and it seems like it could all vanish at the drop of a hat. For veterans and even for those of us who have climbed up the first couple of rungs, like myself, it's all on the razor's edge, and only by being wily and careful, can we navigate this.

But, as McVay himself points out, this could be an era of innovation, where cream rises to the top and we find ways to overcome adversity. This could, too, see a meaningful increase in diversity behind and in front of the camera as new opportunities and methods arise. Some doors close, but others could yet open.

Pablo Series 2: The Launch Event and Belfast Adventures

I was fortunate enough to be able to go to the launch for the second series of Pablo (now broadcasting on CBeebies and RTEjr). Our wonderful producer and brains behind Pablo, Grainne McGuiness, flew over the writing team for the launch of Series 2 on Oct 1. What follows is an account of that experience and, possibly, one of the most humbling days of my life.

I flew out on Sunday from Heathrow Terminal 2: long story short, it became complicated and the flight was delayed from around eleven to nearly nine at night. Officially it was due to bad weather, though a different source claims it was kamikaze birds. Still,  I met up with two other members of the amazing team, Paul Isaacs and Sumita Majumdar and chatted over Pepsi and peppermint tea, so not all bad.

Monday is where things really got started: we conveyed for a day-long writer's room to talk shop about the future of the franchise in multiple areas. Sat in a fancy conference room up at the Clayton Hotel, we did a dry-run for Tuesday's panel, before jumping in on pitching stories for the (potential) third series. Pablo was aging, so we had to take that into consideration. Following a sandwich-based lunch, we then brainstormed plot for a stage musical based on the series, doing it in partnership with Selladoor Worldwide/Productions, debuting hopefully next Christmas for a nationwide tour.

The atmosphere was electric, and everyone was on top form. We joked, spitballed and pondered a number of topics - school, sports, the myriad manifestations of autism, Dead Ringers sketches, old Gerry Anderson shows. Alas, I cannot discuss more details of either project at the moment, but sufficed to say, I was really proud of what we came up with.

Then, we had a few hours free in the evening, I pottered around Belfast City centre, did a bit of sightseeing in the rain and bought Kraven's Last Hunt, an iconic Spider-Man story from the 80s, for a cheaper price then I'd find online or here in London. Not that this is a vital part of the trip, but when else am I going to bring that up in conversation?

Onto Tuesday, the day of the panel and premiere. Dressed up and checked out from the Clayton, we were all taxied down to Queen's University Belfast for the event. The room was set up with a number of tables: the event was organized as a lunch, with a buffet stand nearby. Many of the invited were child actors on the show and their families, in addition to press and television people. Just seeing these kids there, how their lives had been changed by both watching the show and then acting in it... it was one of the most amazing moments of my life. There and then, I felt like, in my own small way, I had helped give these children something that they'd never access otherwise.

As for the panel, the writers would get on stage, have clips from their episodes play, and then discuss the genesis of said episodes. Being me, I opened with some quick jokes before diving into mine: seeing a clip of Oink Cluck Neigh getting a big laugh was just delightfully reaffirming. Afterwards, we adjourned for steak pie and then watched the first episode of Series 2, The New Sofa by Michael White. A funny and sweet romp, it could not have closed the event off better.

What a time. Sure, it was bookended by delayed flights (thankfully shorter on the return), but being in that room with all those families.... what an honour. Here's hoping Series 2 is everything fans love, want and more. Hopefully, it won't be long before I return...

Five things I learnt from writing Pablo - Working in Preschool TV

Almost a year on from delivering my last draft of my second episode, and I still can't believe I got to work on this amazing and progressive little show. Pablo has helped open up a conversation and humanity previously not common in mainstream representation of autism, especially with an audience this young.

Having just had such a wonderfully humbling experience, attending the launch for Series 2 (starts today, Oct 7), I figured I'd go back and talk about what I learnt, as a screenwriter, from working on the show with PaperOwlFilms and Andrew Brenner.

1. Tailor your ideas to the show; don't be generic.
Kids shows, especially pre-school, can often seem like they recycle a lot of plots and concepts: birthdays, making friends, sharing, family troubles, playing games, learning about rules and manners etc. However, the nature and cast of the show will often provide a framework that dictates what will and will not work, so going broad doesn't work.

In the case of Pablo, it was important to tailor the stories to be about autism and how it can affect one's perception and interaction with the world. Generic stories of mischief and messing about were not going to cut it (I foolishly tried early on), and through that, I came up with Headache Volcano and then, through a lot of trial and error, Oink Cluck Neigh.

2. Be concious of other languages and cultures.
Every language is different: not simply in the obvious, but also in terms of colloquialisms, sayings and maxims. Not every phrase or word can be translated, and this becomes even more tricky when dealing in metaphor. The saying 'peachy' may have a clear meaning in English, but does it make sense in Italian or Greek or Swahili or Japanese? And that's just one example.

It's also a matter of practicality: the animation's audio can be dubbed easily, but the live-action requires lip-sync and, of course, animation cannot always be redone for visual symbols anchored to a specific saying and culture. When you are selling to countries whose languages don't have equivalents can create problems for whoever's doing ADR and even the editing (alternate cuts of episodes are hardly uncommon). In an increasingly globalized marketplace, accessibility is key.

3. Even when you get commissioned, you get rejections.
Many newer screenwriters believe that just being commissioned is the end of the struggle: you've been hired, so you're good enough. You just pitch and write, cash and cheque and that's that.

Well, not exactly... 

 Aside from just coming up with appropriate ideas, as discussed above, there's also the process of redrafting and rewriting.

One pagers, treatments and even scripts can get shot down or scrapped at any time, for any reason. Even if an aspect or the core is good, it may simply not be doable on the budget; the time; be too similar to something they're making concurrently or evolves into something that doesn't fit. It happened with Oink Cluck Neigh: that went through several versions and alternative plots that were just unworkable with what we had

4. Don't underestimate kids.
An enduring stereotype about kids TV is that it's made by cynical hacks who believe kids are stupid and need something bositerous and loud to keep them amused while their parents do something they're actually interested in.

While bad media does exist, it's important not to assume that as the default and come into work with a negative attitude. Children are the most honest audience: if you're boring, they will let you know. However, they can quickly pick up symbols and meaning, and get deeper implications of relatively simple stories (think of say, Aesop's Fables or various fairy tales)

5. 'Being gentle' is not the same as 'dumbing down'.
Pablo is a gentle, delicate show: it's light and fun and colourful, perfect for the intended young audience. However, as anyone's who's watched it can attest, it is not twee or slight in the least: we've used the show to talk about everything from communication difficulties, social anxieties and illnesses to science, maths and art.

The key is being mindful: we don't go too hard or be really obvious when discussing something potentially distressing like social events or life changes. Using metaphor and proxies, creating universally-comprehensible subtext, enabled us to tackle an impressive amount of topics that children with autism face on a daily basis. This, paired with the above-conciousness for the wider market, challenged me and others to create something anyoen and everyone could get.

Why don't amateur Screenwriters watch movies and TV?

Any forum, any group, any class even semi-related to screenwriting: you've probably heard some variant of 'I want to write movies/TV but I don't watch a lot of movies/TV.'.

I want to write movies/TV but I don't watch a lot of movies/TV.

I want to write movies/TV but I don't watch a lot of movies/TV.
 

I want to write movies/TV but I don't watch a lot of movies/TV.

I could just stop here, as it should be self-evident. Do you want to write a novel, but have never read a whole book? Do you want to be a chef but have never so much as boiled an egg? Do you want to be a hairdresser, but have never even held a pair of scissors or a comb?

So, why is this so common? Screenwriting, like so many roles in the creative industries, is really hard and time-consuming to get in: writing scripts; networking; getting comissions; getting an agent; pitching; getting produced; getting paid; getting produced consistently; getting paid consistently... not exactly for the faint of heart, or ambition.

And yet, we have an industry-within-an-industry devoted to people who want to do just that. Books, courses, seminars, lectures, retreats, smothered in the rich allure of glitz and glamour, the grand prestige of an award winning film or ratings-hit, multi-season show. A romanticized, way-too-innocent version of what the reality is like.

Naturally, I'm not a mind-reader (yet), but having once been such a feckless gobsh*te (some will argue still, in different ways), I think I have some handle on why people want to do something without really understanding it.

1. Assumptions: we're so exposed to visual media in our day-to-day lives that we might be lured into thinking that we just know it instinctively. After all, we all have movies and shows we do or don't like, and can, if pressed, offer an okay-enough explanation of why. From there, it's not hard to make the leap that, therefore, you just know good storytelling and thus, don't need to be actively consuming, much less be aware of, media to be able to make it.

Of course, that leap is wrong: being able to discuss a movie in a casual sense with friends is not the same thing as sitting down and breaking something down into different components and understanding how they all fit together. You may think, say, Walter White is a cool character because he's such a brilliant yet ruthless guy... but how much does that really tell you? How much of that broad descriptor can you really use when crafting your own stories and characters?

Tarantino and Paul Thomas Anderson watched and rewatched movies thousands of times on VHS to study how those films worked and why. Dramas, comedies, total schlock; all serving a specific purpose. How are you going to compete with that with some half-remembered guff from Only Fools & Horses or Lost?

2. Arrogance: There's no shortage of jokers who dismiss everything made today as junk and act like they could write better. This plays on an idiotic assumption that a given work doesn't already undergo lots of scrutiny through development, and then notes from directors, producers; even actors. This is primarily based on horror stories of films and TV shows that were exercises in hubris (Heaven's Gate, Sorcerer, Outcasts, Fant4stic), as well as ones that become internet punching bags (Bayformers, Dragonball Evolution, Batman & Robin, Twilight, 50 Shades, Season 8 of GOT, the list goes on.) Why watch if everything's bad?

There's an old saying that masters of a craft make it 'look easy': even the worst movies and shows still took a titanic amount of effort to pull together. You are not privy to the circumstances which lead to poor creative decisions, and acting like you would magically succeed where people with ten times the experience couldn't is hardly insightful. This arrogance misunderstands the collaborative nature of media, as well as the politics within it that lead to compromises in art.

This is also a mark of a poorly developed palette. HINT, Hollywood is not a synonym for all cinema everywhere, or that cinema begins and ends with blockbusters & Oscar bait. With platforms like Netflix and Amazon constantly breaking down barriers, there is content all over the world you can enjoy. Some of the biggest and most talked about releases in recent years weren't American, nor British: The Wandering Earth, The Handmaiden, Blue is the Warmest Colour, Roma, Your Name, The Raid 1 & 2 etc.

3. Nostalgia: everyone who wants to make movies and TV, at least, watched stuff when they were kids. Everyone has that movie or show that stuck with them for years and years and made them want to be creative in the first place. Whether it's one of the Disney animated classics; an Amblin Entertainment production; one of the early superhero movies or even an anime. That primal energy, that first spark, in this sense, is supposed to carry you forward into a career.

While it's always good to have inspiration, being stuck in the past hurts your chances. You're not making content/art that makes sense now, but just reheating and regurgitating what we already have. You add nothing to the discussion, nor make people want to make your stuff. What's actually different about your, for example, superhero story from other superhero stories? That it's when they go bad? Done that (The Boys, Watchmen, Brightburn). That it's realistic? Done (Kick-Ass, Defendor). That's it's satirical? Done too (Super, Mystery Men, Green Hornet, The Tick).

4. Laziness: I had thought of calling this 'Greed' but then I thought: would I rather be a little harsh and disengenious, or REALLY harsh and disengenious? Refering back to my earlier 'romanticized' comment, there are people who just see the hefty box offices totals, the best sellers lists or just the chatter of 'residuals' and 'merchandising' and well, time to give up the day job and create the next Transformers or Doctor Who or Bodyguard or Call the Midwife or Batman or--

Stop stop stop STOP! Stop. If you are only desiring to learn screenwriting because you want an early retirement': you're a fuc*ing idiot who makes (insert topical figure) look like Einstein. Making a movie or TV pilot because you want to make art solely for selfish commerce, is like punching a rabid dog in the cojones: it might work, but it's dangerous and fraught with risk for comparatively little gain.

But then isn't this awareness of movies and TV you might ask? No: all you're seeing is money: you're not actually engaging with the work. Being aware of the commercial side is important, but again, you're still not watching and thinking about why this works? Why do these movies speak to people? The money say people engage, but why? If you can't answer that, then you're not ready.

5. Fear: This is one of the silliest and most overthought things I've seen on the internet. The old chesnut of, 'I want to be all original and not copy anyone' tact. You worry about plagiarism and being derivative, adding nothing new and just vanishing into the sea of 'formula' and 'cliche'. Thus, you divorce yourself from the present landscape in the hope of some manner of elevation.

This is a stupid, art-school-level idea about the merit of art: everyone is inspired by someone else. Nobody cares where your ideas come from: just how they are executed. That's what stays with people long after the screen is off. How, HOW, can you hope to pull any of that off if you don't engage with said mediums? How can you become part of the conversation and be able to know what is missing or what needs making if you don't watch what is being made? Please, I would love to hear an explanation.

Besides, an active awareness and study of what's being made will better prime you on what to do do and what not to do.  You like zombies? What are things you like and don't about zombie movies? From there, you can make your own with what you like, with a fresh perspective, and perhaps improve the image of the sub-genre with what you've learnt to avoid. And all you had to do was watch.

The famous screenwriting maxim is, 'if you can do anything else, do it'. Screenwriting is a long and hard road, and requires you to give a lot. However, like many hard things, if you put in, you can get out. Work on your craft and, just as importantly, develop your palette and knowledge. If you've got time to muck around on Twitter or Youtube, you've got time for a movie or show. If you've got time to play a video game, you've got time for a movie or show. Invest in your education and don't assume so much.