'Wrapped Up' got selected for its first festival (24/05/19)

Never say never. Things can come back in surprising ways and really perk you up on not-so-great days.

The short film I wrote last year got into its first festival, all the way over in Ukraine. The Kiev International Film Festival, to be exact. Well hooray hooray hooray!

Now, if you need a refresher, Wrapped Up is a dark little comedy about a young woman accidentally kills her boyfriend, who was trying to put the moves on her brother. Unfortunately, this happened on the day that their old man was coming to pick them up for a party, so... WHOOPS! What will they do now?

I talk about it more here, but sufficied to say, it was quite a project. Its original screening went down well, so to have it do well again is a great feeling. I have to once again, fully hand it to my director Andy: he brought it home, everyone in the theatre was laughing back then, and is still doing so now.

Watch the short here.

If you'd like to learn more about the Kiev International Film Festival and what's playing, click the link: http://kievfestival.info/en/about

Joe Carnahan and the Importance of Screenwriter's Etiquette

Consider this a sister piece to both my blog on the response to Sarah Phelps' ABC Murders from Christie fans, as well as my recent writing on things I wish amateurs would stop doing. There'll be a lot of crossover in what is said here, though the target in the former will be different.

Smokin' Aces and The Grey writer-director Joe Carnahan (who's probably just as well known for blockbusters he ALMOST made, such as Mission Impossible III, Uncharted and Bad Boys 3) has a new movie out: a low-budget superhero picture titled El Chicano, centering on an LA detective out to avenge his brother and donning the titular mantle. A big part of the production's press revolved around how hard Carnahan and the film's director pushed for an all-Latino cast, recognizing a vital demographic.

All seems well so far, but then reviews came in and weren't too flattering. One moderately positive review by Carlos Aguilar, that questioned some of the representational choices in the film, got real heat from Carnahan, who went on an anti-critic tirade.

Backlash ensued, and Carnahan deleted his twitter. Not long after, other screenwriters chipped in with takes on Carnahan's behaviour:

Stuff like this always frustrates me: it's stupid, pointless and it's a bad example for other creatives. Making a film, or any piece of media, is a long, grueling and often frustrating process that can, and will, trip you up many times. I get Carnahan's passion for his work (just watch any of his interviews) and why one would feel so defensive of it. That just comes with being a creative: if you didn't have passion, why did you create?

That said, a thick skin is a basic survival tool in any type of collaborative business and with it, the ability to stop, breathe and think. What has Carnahan proved or gained by blasting Aguilar? If it's about the writing quality, why not cite and explain the issues you had with the review's construction? Why not create a constructive dialogue with a critic so that both you and they learn from it, instead of shouting it down?

The truth of internet fire-fights is pretty much no one, regardless of position, comes out looking good. The rapid-pace nature of social media is catnip to impulsive decisions and the lack of face-to-face contact emboldens the worst behaviours. It's a dangerous cocktail that can tempt even usually smart people into poor argumentation and worse decorum.

And now that we've taken 'stupid' and 'pointless' to task, let's now dive into 'bad example': this is a terrible way to handle critique. As I mentioned in my Amateur Screenwriters piece, people are not out to get you when they say something you wrote needs work. They are not denying your 'genius', and they are not forcing you to conform to whatever dogma they may subscribe to. Nothing gives you the right to be abusive or sharp with people who have given you their time to engage with your art and, in some way, give you feedback.

Does that mean you blindly agree with everything they say and have no right to defend your work? Of course not, but being open-minded, as well as showing restraint, are vital tools if you want to make it as a screenwriter. If you get fiery right away or misconstrue critique of the work as personal attacks, you won't survive long. If you can't take feedback or notes, much less one like Aguilar's review where it's balanced with positives, how can you expect to work with other people and improve both yours and their work? Conduct and etiquette are important and often overlooked parts of an artist's toolbox.

So, what's a way of dealing with negative feedback that allows for said better etiquette? Well, a teacher of mine had a great saying, 'look for the note behind the note'. If you feel like a criticism of something you made doesn't make sense, rather than start attacking, put some distance between you and the critique and think: why would they say this? Is there a choice I made that made them take away that impression instead of the one I wanted? Was it the way a character spoke, or how a scene played out? Did a certain descriptor carry a double meaning I may not have considered?

The fact is, in the social media age, the internet remembers. Be better than trolls or fanboys or general malcontents, and not give into the first thing that pops into your head when someone says something about your work. And don't broadcast it for the whole world to see if you're not interested in being productive or mature.

People check these things now, and your online activity paints a picture of you before they ever meet you. Whether you're amateur or pro, knowing how to take the hits matters as much as dishing them out, especially if you still want to be in the fight. No amount of credits or fiscal success entitle you to belittling or bullying others, nor take said success for granted. No one is bulletproof, and manners go a long way.

5 Things I wished Amateur Screenwriters would JUST. STOP. DOING.

No sugarcoating here: You're the problem. You make the rest of us look bad. It's because of you, yes YOU, that companies won't take unsolicited submissions for fear of insane lawsuits, why agents rely so heavily on referrals and why 'breaking in' is so dominated by contests of dubious merit.

The arrogance, the entitlement, the utter lack of self-awareness leaves me gobsmacked sometimes. On forums, Facebook groups, even, if you're so unlucky, at Q&As and events. I am tired of hearing the same empty pleas, vague generalities and just poor manners in general. People want to help, people want to be nice and yes, believe it or not, there are people who want to listen and work with new writers, but time and again, are discouraged.

So, here's my humble supplication, my gentle plea, for you to stop doing these things, or avoid them in the first place, and make life a little easier for both the industry and you yourself. You are already going to have enough fights on your hands, at least take these ones off:

STOP USING Q&As/PANELS TO PITCH YOUR MOVIE

Screenings and panels, unless specificed, are not an excuse for you to hog the mic and waste the time of guests and attendees by doing some nervous, blathery pitch for your script. Being daring and being dumb aren't interchangeable, and no one is giving you 'mad respect' by pitching your dream movie to Jonathan Nolan or J.J. Abrams.

As discussed in a previous blog, these people are out of your reach. They're too big and busy to take on untested talent. Not to mention, like unsolicited submissions, they want to avoid lawsuits if they, entirely independent of you, come up with a similar idea. Instead, focus on making your own stuff or pitching to smaller producers.

STOP THROWING TANTRUMS OVER ADVICE

People are not out to get you when they say something you wrote needs work. They are not denying your 'genius', and they are not forcing you to conform to whatever dogma Save The Cat spews. Nothing gives you the right to be abusive or sharp with people who have given you their time to give you some feedback.

This is doubly so if you're using paid reading services: you paid for it, don't complain when they give you what you asked them for. Does that mean you blindly agree with everything they say and have no right to defend your work? Of course not: as the maxim goes, take what works, ditch what doesn't. If they are saying a character doesn't make sense because their actions don't fit, consider if this is a deliberate choice you communicated badly (it stays) or if that's not what you wanted and you meant to write something else (it changes).

STOP SAYING 'I DID THIS AND THIS' AND NOT BACKING IT UP

What is so bloody hard about providing links when you say 'I won such and such award' or 'I made such and such film, so please work with me'. Why do I constantly see, especially in Facebook film groups, people saying some variant of 'Hi everybody, I'm an award winning screenwriter looking for a agent/producer/collaborator in London/Dublin/Glasgow/other city. Do you have anyone in mind you can recommend please?' AND THEN NEVER SAYING WHAT THEY WON?!

You want people to help? Give them a reason by using the highly exulted, all powerful, divine magic of copy and paste and hyperlinks. You clearly want to impress us: do it. And, for the love of Cthulu, JUST TELL PEOPLE WHAT YOU WANT! Why are you being vague? If you want to make a horror or a comedy, JUST SAY SO! That's how you find the right crew.

Oh, and proof read. Please.

STOP TAKING THE INTERNET LOTTERY

If you just wait for things to come to you and do nothing inbetween online submission windows, or just blindly rely on email alone, you'll not get far. At all.  You're just another collection of words in an email, no different from the others. Whoopety-doo.

You're better off trying to find a way to go to a film festival or taking a five minute coffee with someone at a company and chat with these people in person, than gambling on if and when there are internet submissions. That personal dimension, seeing or hearing that passion in person, is more important than usually given credit for, and it made a huge difference to my own output and getting gigs. It's okay to be scared or nervous: it's not okay to be passive.

STOP SH*TTALKING THE INDUSTRY AND STILL EXPECTING TO GET WORK

Kids shows, soaps and low to micro budget content is likely where you'll be starting out, and you want to make a good impression. I would be VERY wary of publically mocking the creative teams on places like Twitter and acting like such hot sh*t, saying you could do better. Especially when you're struggling to get that first or even second credit.

No, this does not mean you have to like everything or not express your dislike of something, but find a more constrtuctive way to do it. Yes, the openness of a platform like Twitter makes criticism or differing views impossible to avoid, and so long as terms of Use are not violated, they are fine to do so.

However, assuming the work doesn't already undergo lots of scrutiny through development, and then notes from directors, producers even actors is naive at best and ignorant at worst. Everybody makes mistakes, but it's never all cut and dry. You @ someone involved is not exactly much of a solution.

There's a considerable difference between simply writing up your opinion, positive or negative, and sharing among peers, and then shoving your critique in the face of a creator who, perhaps one day, could be your boss. By doing this, you are presuming your view is more worthy of specific attention when there's no qualifiers for it: your own subjective opinion is no more inferior or superior to someone else who shared it via normal channels, nor your tangential connection to the business. You getting into a stupid fight with a Pro is not 'critical thinking' or 'challenging the system': it's a moronic shouting match.

Are there more gear-grinding pet peeves I have? Possibly, but let's stop for today before I get too mean or holier-than-thou. I only say this because I'm tired of newcomers, regardless of age or background, making the easiest mistakes in the world to avoid and, if for nothing else, I can at least save you a few.

Dear Students of Screenwriting: Here's the reality

You're about to start or finish off your degree. You will or have learnt about three acts, inciting incidents, reversal of reversals and subverting expectations. With that piece of paper in hand (or in the mail) you feel ready to conquer the industry with a knock-out game changer. Or maybe, you're outside the system and learning as you go, from books and Youtube videos.

Let me tell you, you haven't even been around the first step to the first hurdle.

I think the reality and demands of any writing career is often undersold and underdiscussed to aspiring newbies. Too much is made of the glitz and glamour, the prestige of an award winning film or best selling book. Often, this false-image presents a too-romanticized, too-innocent version of what the reality is like for writers (mainly focusing, in this instance, on screenwriters, but there's a lot here that's cross-transferable).

The BIG truth is this: everything is SLOW. Everything takes time and everything is about your initiative and proactivity. This is not a career for those who are lazy or just expect, for whatever moronic reason, things to come to them. Worse, things to come RIGHT AWAY. Like, everything get's going in one week and people will sign you overnight to some big honking deal at the BBC or Netflix.

No. No no no no. No. Not how it happens. (WARNING, the word MAY will be used many times in the following paragraphs.)

First, you must BUILD RELATIONSHIPS. If you treat people like stepping stones, show no respect or regard, well, why should they care about you or your scripts? Networking is treated as this grand, impossible, delicate thing, but it's really not. It's basically like any other sort of socializing: just be cool and open. Yes, YOU have to go and meet people. Yes, YOU have to actually talk to people before they can read your script and may, MAY, give you a gig.

Asking to have a five minute meeting with someone in development about career advice, as a graduating/graduate student, or even as a fan of their output, is much less daunting then it sounds. You'd be surprised how generous people can be with their time, as well as how useful being a student is: you're still in school, so you can't sell them anything. You're just a wide-eyed kid with big dreams. They can relate, and if they like you, they may even offer you a read of your script. If they like it, they may give you a referral (an endorsement) which makes a certain 'hunt' that much easier (more on that later).

Research who they are beforehand, so that when you introduce yourself, you can point to something they've made and can say you admire. Nobody can resist a compliment, and thus, that may snowball into a chat, a conversation and, possibly, an exchange of numbers and/or emails. Of course, all this is if they respond: you may have to chase up a few times before they reply. Like I said, slow.

It's also important to be reasonable with your expectations: forget Call the Midwife or Doctor Who or Bodyguard. They are way, WAY out of your league, no matter how good your writing is. Shows like those use writers familiar with the system and who have proven themselves to be able to meet deadlines and turn solid material around in small amounts of time. Guiding a newbie is just not viable. However, that's not the only place to go with your work.

Loads of small theatres and festivals offer opportunities and competitions for material, some may even doing full plays. BBC Writersroom and London Playwrights' Blog are great sources for who has an open slot. That's a credit. Radio and narrative-driven podcasts: The audience is smaller than film or TV, but the advantadge is lower costs, allowing more risks to be taken. Yes, you can just pitch straight to a producer on radio, and may get your work on BBC Radio 4, without any 'unsolicited' guff. That's a credit. Or make a cheap little webseries (superior to shorts, in my view, for writers, and less dicey than a microbudget feature). Credit, credit, credit.

Or on actual TV, preschool's a good place to start grafting: efficient, cheap, fun content and writers who can produce that are always in demand. There'll still be waiting and following up and rejections, but there's far less at stake here for them and you. It's a fraction of what you'd get for a drama, but it's a credit builder with established companies. Remember, you're the newbie, the baby: you can't afford to be snobbish. Kids shows are not beneath you or inferior. They are as dramatically valid and challenging as any 'adult' project.

And even when you get that first play or episode done... WELCOME BACK TO GRAFTING! Oh, there's no magical floodgate where everything will just come to you and you'll never have to network again. People won't come to you. You've still got to find more gigs by your lonesome. And you will get more rejections. Huzzah!

Now, to round this off, what's a word often associated with writers that has not shown up yet? AGENTS.  Here's the honest truth:

You don't need an agent to walk up to a producer or development person and pitch your idea.

You don't need an agent to get you work.

A good logline and better manners will do that fine. Your first priority as a writer, aside from learning and pushing your craft, is build yourself a portfolio, not agent hunt. Show you can do the work, show people want to work with you and show that you have the determination and proactivity to be worth entering a business arrangement with. Credits, specs, stuff in development, awards, all of this stuff counts for a lot and can help you stand out in the pile, bolstered further by the referal from an industry producer.

I suppose the takeaway here is that it's hard. Really hard. Really, really hard. And slow. And tedious. And often times annoying. But I also know I'd rather do this than a soul-draining office job (and I have), and I know this is what I find joy and passion in. Pablo, Cull, my past short films and all the stuff yet to come or still cooking: I've fought battles, felt crushing worry and despair, but I held on. It will happen to you, and it's not easy and it's scary. But if you believe in your material, in yourself, if you keep fighting and taking risks, you will get there.

======================================================================
If you're curious for me to expand on the above, I did an entire series about helping students which you can find here.

Read how-to-books or screenplays? Hey Genius, DO BOTH!

Blake Snyder is a hack who destroyed movies! No, Save The Cat is unparralleled storytelling genius. No you're stupid! No you're STUPID! FUDGE YOU! NO, FLECK YOU, BAR STEWARD! - the polite TV-broadcast version of what goes on in many screenwriting threads on forums.

In the eternal quest of the new screenwriter in tackling their first script, one of the first questions that arises is: what should I read? Screenplays or screenplay manuals? Should I just jump in and read PDFs like no tomorrow, or, should I study paradigms, beat sheets and arcs? Well, I've got an ingenious solution to your problem, and one which has never, ever, EVER, been broached before in the whole history of anything: do both.

I'll never understand the screenwriting community's bizarre fixation on one or the other. It's not like you're in one of Jigsaw's traps and forced to make a choice between losing your hand or your head. You, as student of the form and a consumer, have full freedom to choose what to go for. It's not binary black-and-white and to say it is is, at best, just standard elitism and worst, destructive to an artist's growth.

Brass tacks here: most new spec screenwriters (who are not muli-taskers, like writer-directors) are, by and large, not students of English Lit or have a strong literary background, period. Many are simply enthusiasts of various movie and TV franchises or persons in said mediums, and would like to write for them some day. Cue dropping to their first port of call: the internet. They do some rudimentary searching, maybe learn about Save The Cat or 'three act structure' and then after that, find a multitude of people grousing about STC and saying the only way to is to read screenplays and nothing else.

Let's start with books: blind adherence to formula is, of course, not a good thing, nor being married to a set of arbitrary rules. Absorbing all McKee or Hauge or Field has to offer may lead to a very proficient, polished screenplay, but it can also lead to an overly mechanical one without a sense of voice or imagination. While writing is hard, structure and pace can be learned fairly quickly: creating snappy, to-the-point scenes, as encouraged by these books, is very doable in a small amount of time. With a copy of Final Draft to boot, it's easy to create what LOOKS like a quality screenplay.

But looks can be deceiving: the common element with a lot of books is they can't teach you to have a voice, a unique style and POV that only you can tell. Nor can they provide you with distinct and different subject matter, so sadly, a lot of 'technically' proficient screenplays fall back on the same stories about cops with demons, star-crossed lovebirds and disenfranchised youth. X happens by page Y, at point B this twist happens and the hero gets C. All well and good, but kind of bland.

Here's the thing, to take the alternate view: if you can't explain or understand why something works in a story, reading screenplays alone is a total waste of time because you're not really learning. The books aren't perfect, but at least they can give you a framework and a means to explain what or why something is or isn't working. Without a basic grasp of dramaturgical terms or theory (in particular, oft-misunderstood terms such as 'characterisation', 'pacing' and 'subplots') you won't be able to really grasp and hone that vague ethereal spark that is your story idea.

Too often, it seems the people who screed the supremacy of 'read alone' are people who were already aware of the conventions, or working in the industry and thus, could learn direct on the ground. For example, John August (Big Fish and co-host of ScriptNotes) began his career as a script reader so of course he didn't need Syd Field: he was already learning in possibly the best school possible. Nor did Ed Solomon (Bill & Ted): he was already working as a comic and got on staff for Laverne & Shelley while at college. He got the ultimate introduction to the craft by actually writing commissioned work. Others majored in English at a university level (Frank Cotrell-Boyce, The Railway Man) so again, didn't need the guides. But for many, either because of financial or health reasons, this is non-viable.

And, in an interesting dovetail, many of these guys got in decades ago, a criticism that's also been levied at guides for being out of date in their industry advice. Yet, the circumstances under which some of these people rose under is fundamentally different now, why should their word be any more sacrosanct?

Obviously, I'm being a bit hyperbolic, but I hope it serves a point: no one knows anything, so learn from everyone, take what you can and ditch what doesn't help. In the long run, no one cares how you write just as long as you write well. Do that, and things will fall into place.

Review: Writing the Short Film

Short films are, for many a young and new filmmaker, their first step into the business. Make a few, make a good one, you can generate a little buzz about yourself. Give people an idea of what your tastes and strengths are. However, their brief length can pose a challenge for writers, trained or not. So what could help here?

Back in 2004, screenwriting lecturers Cooper and Dancyger decided to add their perspective to the world of screenwriting manuals and bibles, but rather than doing the umpteenth book on features or coming up with another cute name for a three-act reskin, instead tackled the subject of short films. While still framed with Aristotlean principles and act structure, Cooper and Dancyger keep their focus small and tight by analysing and diseecting how the short form tell stories, how to convey information within limited time and what the differences are between feature and short, beyond length.

One of the very few screenwriting tomes exclusively about shorts, and certainly one of the more well known, Cooper and Dancyger deliver a solid enough guide to how all the fundamentals of film narrative (dialogue, characterisation, pacing, want vs need, subtext) can be applied and prepared for the short form, but it is unmistakably the work of academics. As such, the more bold and colourful among ye may be turned off by it. 

Whereas other writing manuals favour a more humourous, conversational style of writing, designed to ease the aspiring writer in and create a sort of bond between guru and pupil, the duo write with a clinical precision and analytical frame of mind. It very much reads like a classroom piece, making the book feel and read more like a collection of university essays than, necessarily, one writer speaking to another in a relatable fashion.

This by no means is a big negative, and Cooper and Dancyger do their best to supply the reader with tools, detailed maps and means to prepare a short screenplay. They frame most of it around a two act principle (though also concede to one act) using some adaptative exercises, tackling the classic Greek myth of Icarus, as well as scenes from shorts they or their students have been involved with, to illustrate their points. It works decently and it never had me confused. Indeed, some of the best parts come from these segments, where they go through revisions and show you how something changed.

Still, it all feels sterile and written without enthusiasm, which can leave it a little dry and ponderous at times. It's more instructive than it is motivational or inspirational, which does align it more with the stereotype of screenwriting books. Do not confuse this with implying the book is sloppy or boring; merely written by observers and analysts of the craft, teaching classes and engaged in an academic discussion of film, versus the more impassioned approach of a guru or working screenwriter of larger projects wanting to share tricks and fun anecdotes. 

On its own merits, Short Film is capably written, well structured and clearly geared at new film students. Indeed, it reads like classroom material: thorough, lengthy but always at an intellectual distance, more a teaching tool than a standalone piece that makes for a good read in its own right.

More Pablo and Bang2Write - Ringing in 2019

So, belated Happy New Year to everyone. Hope 2018 was good to you, and here's hoping 2019 has more in store. It was quite a whirlwind year for me, with many highs and lows, but I managed to get my first few baby steps into the business, so hooray! 

So, a few announcements. First, I can now confirm I've written a second Pablo episode for the next series. In total, that brings my episode contributions to 2, and very proud I am of them. It's been an entertaining and highly educational experience. Andrew Brenner and Paper Owl Films were really cool to work with and knew exactly what they wanted. If and when there's a Series 3, I'll be all too happy to jump back in!

Next, I have contributed to jack-of-all-trades writing website Bang2Write with their little miniseries, What 22 Industry Pros Don't and Do Want. The articles are what they sound like: readers, producers and development folk in both film and TV as well as in books give their two pence on what they do or don't like when they see a new piece of work come in.


 

 
First up, here are the DONT'S.
And now, the DOS.

I'm also in very early stages of a new ten minute play, to be potentially produced by the Oast's Sandra Barfield (who helped bring Cull to life last year) but as said, it's still early days. Beyond that, working as always on new specs and honing my craft.