February 2006

Monthly Archive

The Invisible Men

Craig Mazin 26 Feb 2006 | : The Craft & Trade

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See the writer?
Something happened to a colleague of mine that epitomizes what I call the “The Invisible Writer” snub. She and her husband are one of the credited writers of Disney’s upcoming remake of The Shaggy Dog. A day or so ago, they read the following quote in The Hollywood Reporter from the director of the film, referring to himself, the producer and the star, Tim Allen.

In our case, we felt we wanted to carry on the tradition of the father sort of having to bear the weight of the burden of turning into a dog. And it just gave Tim a great opportunity to play all that sort of fantastic physical comedy that comes into play when the dog mannerisms are overtaking the human — such as sticking your face into a cereal bowl instead of using your spoon to eat cereal and all these dog instincts. When you go to kiss your wife goodbye you can’t help but lick her face rather than kiss her. Things like that. Tim was just incredibly embracing of the whole physical part of the role and had a lot of fun with it.

Hmmm. Where are the writers? Oh. Here they are…in another quote from the director.

We definitely beat our heads against the wall with a few writers.

Here’s the interesting part. My writer friends attest that they had a great relationship with this director. So why would he talk like this? They resent the generic reference to “writers” that had to be overcome, and they certainly weren’t happy to read a quote that ascribed the authorship of creative decisions and specific jokes to practically everyone but them!

I remember watching a press junket for one of my movies. When asked about the script, the director didn’t even mention my name. In fact, all she did was talk about her favorite lines that weren’t scripted!

“How was the process from script to film?”

“It was great. We found a ton of stuff while we were shooting. Just ad libbing, coming up with jokes on the set. My favorite line in the movie wasn’t even in the script!”

Uh huh. Why you little….

So why does this happen (and boy, does it happen all the time)? Are directors that egotistical? Are they purposefully ignoring writers because of enmity? Are they intentionally characterizing writers as obstacles because they really believe they are (and are they)? Are they overemphasizing the authorial contributions of actors because it’s a good business move?

All possible, but I have a different theory.

I think directors de-emphasize the writer and overemphasize all non-writer contributions to the movie because they are flat out frightened that their actual contributions are insignificant in the face of what we, the writers, have contributed.

Yes, directors often believe in the auteur theory. But doesn’t that theory strike some of you as overcompensating? Isn’t it the academic equivalent of a 50 year-old man with erectile dysfunction tooling around town in a Lamborghini, his arm around a stripper?

The truth is that directing is very hard. And acting? Also hard. Still, when you direct a film from someone else’s script, you’re itching to prove to the world that you didn’t just follow someone else’s paint-by-numbers instructional manual for making the film.

This holds especially true for comedies, where so much of the apparent value of the film is in the dialogue or the concepts. It turns out that directing comedy is perhaps the hardest of all directing skills, because it requires an enormous talent for timing and tone.

The thing is, people don’t know they’re laughing at timing and tone. They think they’re just laughing at the idea of, say, a man getting his chest hair waxed off. They are, but they’re also laughing at the performance of the actor, the realistic tone of the scene, the timing of the cut between set ups, punches and reactions, the presence or lack of score, the framing, the…

…well, all the directing stuff.

Directors and actors know that’s all going on, but they also know that the writer who dreamed the bit up in the first place is the real hero. It’s only human to want to then crow about the very things that you think the audience will appreciate you for as a director. Besides, if you don’t, then what the hell did you do, right?

Okay, so that’s my theory about why directors pull this crap.

Now here’s my plea to them.

Stop it. Please, please, please just stop it. It’s a much stronger move to acknowledge the positive relationship you had with your writers. It’s a much more confident projection to credit them for their wonderful ideas. It makes you look smart for working with them, it makes the movie sound more literate and crafted, and, quite frankly, it’s the moral thing to do.

The whole world automatically credits the director more than the writer. Don’t be greedy. When the little voice in your head prods you to talk about that great line you came up with on the set because you don’t want people to see you as somehow diminished by the achievements of the writer, ignore it. Praise the writers instead. Be humble. If the development was difficult, don’t blame the writers. Thank them for prevailing against tough circumstances or cracking a tricky problem.

You’re the director. You control what the audience will see and hear.

Let them see and hear us.

We’ve earned it. And no matter what you might fear, your star won’t lose a single watt of shine.

No, I Had Nothing To Do With Date Movie…

Craig Mazin 19 Feb 2006 | : Miscellany

…and the writers of Date Movie had nothing to do with Scary Movie 3 or Scary Movie 4.

People were askin’, is all.

Talking With Actors

Craig Mazin 17 Feb 2006 | : The Craft & Trade

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One of the big differences between successful film directors and successful film writers is that directors have experience and skill talking with actors, and screenwriters typically do not.

That’s a huge problem. While nothing can ever take the place of experience, there are a few things to keep in mind when you find yourself talking to an actor performing a role from your script.

Let’s establish why it’s important that screenwriters and actors feel comfortable speaking with each other. The director is always responsible for the actor’s performance, and the director is typically the only individual giving the actors performance notes during the actual shooting. However, in the time leading up to production, it’s good for writers and actors to be able to discuss the character with each other in a dramaturgical way. When we talk about the character’s backstory with the actor, or their intentions in a specific scene as written, it’s a good thing. It’s best to make sure that the director is comfortable with you speaking with the actors. Some directors hate it and want their actors to remain untouched by any other human’s hands, so to speak.

If you learn how to talk to actors, odds are that you will be trusted to always do so.

Okay, on with the advice.

First, you have to understand that actors and writers are very very very very very different sorts of people. Our creativity is entirely internal. Theirs is largely external. We think. They portray. We imagine. They become. Our craft is focused through the written word. Theirs is focused through their bodies, their faces, their eyes.

So when you talk to an actor, you don’t have to approach them like a dog you don’t know, but it does help to put yourself in their shoes. You may love your words, but they have to say them, and while your name will always be associated with the movie, their face will exist saying that line over and over and over until the sun explodes.

Therefore, if they have an issue with the dialogue, don’t get defensive. This isn’t a play–actors generally know that other actors have performed the lines in a play, so they’re “safe”. In a film, this moment is the only moment there will be. This performance is the only one that they can ever deliver. The actors will chisel the words in stone. Work with them to find ways to get your intentions across as effectively as possible through your actors. After all, if they hate the line, they’re either going to tank it, ad lib it, or ask the director to rewrite it.

If the actor is at all famous, put that out of your mind. They are stared at like an oddity all day long, and they are painfully aware that there’s an instant unnaturalness between them and any non-famous person. Don’t allow yourself to show that unnaturalness. Don’t talk about how big of a fan you are, blah blah blah. Talk about your movie. Talk about this role. Be professional in every regard.

When you’re dealing with multiple actors, be aware that actors are just as flawed as we are. Maybe we get a little precious with our words, or tend to write things that are better as concepts than as actual scenes. And maybe some actors tend to view the story solely in the context of their character.

Never fall into the trap of defending the writing on the basis of its literary quality. They don’t care. They’re not meat puppets. The production hasn’t rented their face to mouth-flap up and down for the words in the script. A good performance will never be believed by the audience if it’s not believed by the actor giving it. Defend the writing in the context of their character and their performance.

At times, you will be negotiating between multiple actors in the cast. Don’t play favorites, and don’t borrow from Peter to pay Paul. Stick to what’s best for the story. If you get into a disagreement with an actor about a particular scene, then simply defer to the director. Easiest strategy in the world.

When you’re talking with actors, be aware of your own mood. Jerry Lewis wrote a now out-of-print book about directing, and in it he made an interesting point. Actors often assume that your mood is a reflection of how you’re feeling about them. No, that doesn’t mean they’re self-absorbed narcissists. It’s just a symptom of their craft, which is very much a “I behave, you respond to my behavior” effort. If you’re cranky about something, leave it outside the door before you walk into the actor’s trailer.

Keep in mind that when actors sometimes seem grumpy with writers, it may be because they’re actually intimidated by us and what we represent. We’ve given them a person to be and a world to live in, and sometimes they feel insecure or defensive when talking with us about the pages. Let them know that you’re not going to bite. If you project that you care more about the movie than your script document, they’ll loosen up around you.

Finally, try and pick quiet times and quiet places to talk about the screenplay with the actor. Trailers are great for that, be it hair/makeup or their own. The dance of give-and-get is delicate, and a lot of actors don’t want to be watched publicly as they ask for help about their character. Besides, it’s hard to have any kind of meaningful, open discussion about feelings, emotions, choices and intentions when grips are lugging lights and ladders past your head.

In the end, writers and actors aren’t from different planets, even if it feels like it sometimes. We need each other to make the movie work. Don’t be afraid of them, don’t patronize them, don’t be in awe of them, don’t ignore them. The truth is that for all their insecurities and foibles and obsessions, I love actors. If you want your terrific screenplay to ever be a terrific movie, you should learn to love them too.

The Future Of Testing

Craig Mazin 13 Feb 2006 | : Uncategorized

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I have a busy few weeks ahead of me as we get ready for the upcoming release of Scary Movie 4, but I came across this amazing article this morning, and I thought I’d link to it in a quick post.

I can’t wait for some scientist to explain to me that while my movie gets a good verbal response from the audience, their amygdalas indicate that they find the whole thing pedestrian and a bit episodic.

A History Of Debate, Part II

Craig Mazin 08 Feb 2006 | : The Craft & Trade, WGA Issues

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I was going to wait a bit longer before rolling out part deux, but we’re in danger of having the comments discussion duplicate some of the content of the original exchange, so I’m shrinking the window. I should add for casual readers of this site that the comments section for the first installment of this debate is about the best we’ve ever had, and should be considered as useful to read as these posts themselves.

Okay, on with the final chapter…


MAZIN: Josh, I think you’ve fallen prey to the whole “misunderstand Craig” thing.

Like you, I’ve compiled my list of dealbreakers, and while “a film by” isn’t one of them because I personally think the credit is so moronic as to have no impact whatsoever, there are other things upon which I insist.

It is also my great and pressing desire to see that a number of “best practices” become standard practices for all writers, and I hope to swing a very heavy bat on behalf of us all. I want a writer’s trailer on every set. I want writers at every test screening.

However, I approach this knowing full well that the one thing the WGA nor I can ever possibily legislate is good feelings.

By the by, wanting to advance the creative rights of writers and believing that writers can be a whiny and selfish lot are not mutually exclusive positions. I personally think writers can be whiny and selfish but no more so than directors, so I don’t really factor it into my personal equations.

So let me flip this around to you, because I think this is an important discussion, and because I think you and I actually have the same basic goals in mind.

How do we legislate better treatment? You and I both know that sometimes writers simply do not get along with producers or directors. Unlike a television show, there is only one “episode” in theatrical. When “they” have decided that they don’t need more from us, then what can we meaningfully do to reinsert the writer into the process as a welcome participant?

One of the things that frustrates me is that certain creative gains become distasteful chores for all parties involved when there isn’t a true partnership. The writer insists that he receive his contractually obligated screening. The director doesn’t show up. The producer sends an assistant to take the notes from the writer and toss them the second we’re gone.

All entirely legal and to the letter of the creative rights.

One of the things that I hope to accomplish in the near future is figuring out how to structure creative rights so that the companies can’t violate the spirit of them unless they feel they have cause. In other words, let’s stop pretending that there aren’t problems. There are. If there are, maybe there’s a grievance system where the WGA can help get the writer in a room with someone who actually cares what they think.

Anyway, that’s how I think. Coming up with wish lists is the easy part; figuring out how to make it all stick and be impactful in a real way is the challenge.


OLSON: Craig wrote:

Like you, I’ve compiled my list of dealbreakers, and while “a film by” isn’t one of them because I personally think the credit is so moronic as to have no impact whatsoever, there are other things upon which I insist.

Again, fine for you in your personal dealings. But as an official rep for working writers, it’s a fight you need to take seriously. Look at it this way – you want to use my posts on your web page, but you want to cut out any profanity or insults because you object to them for some reason. On a web page which is read by – what? I have no idea how many people, but far less than see any movie. “A film by” is an insult. It’s profanity. And it’s seen by far more people than read your web page.

And here’s the thing – whereas saying “!%%?” on your web page has no impact whatsoever on anything of import, the use of “A film by” continues to eat away at respect for writers, which, in turn, affects our ability to ply our trade.

I’m sorry you think it’s moronic and meaningless. I’d wager if you ever write something that’s of real lasting importance to you, in which you’ve poured a great deal of personal conviction, care and passion and told a story that is deeply personal to yourself, then had someone else cavalierly claim authorship because this system allows – hell, encourages – them to, my guess is you might not feel the same way. I could be wrong, but my sense is that you get how systemically diminishing the importance of writers affects our ability to do our jobs and to be effectively and fairly compensated for it.

I apologize for not being as up on these things as I should – I didn’t know until I read JL’s post why you were the beneficiary of such largesse on your last movie.

(Craig’s Note: Josh is referring to a post by another writer who stated that I have a uniquely positive relationship with a studio head, and this needs to be taken into consideration when evaluating my opinions.)

Good for you. That must be lovely. But I cannot imagine you are so blinkered you believe that your experience is in any way reflective of most screenwriters’ experiences.

You also need to understand that you got those perks because you managed to ingratiate yourself on the right person by being easy going and pleasant to work with. None of those things are standard issue in this system… for writers. On the other hand, the world is full of directors who get every single one of those perks and don’t have to be pleasant, easy to get along with, or good friends with the cat who runs the studio.

The film by credit matters, and it’s a tremendously important issue. The film by credit matters because the more a lie is repeated, the more people believe it. You and I recently had a discussion about your feelings for the President. It ended when you finally acknowledged that he hadn’t actually achieved anything that you could point to unequivocally and say, “Yes. That is good.” What he HAS done is talk a good game. I’ve been amazed over the last five years how this creepy, frightened looking little man has been able to simply come on TV and describe himself as steely eyed, tough and determined, and people buy into it, even though it’s crystal clear to anyone watching that he is none of those things. The film by credit is the same thing. It is a lie that’s repeated so often, many people believe it. And guess what? SOME OF THOSE PEOPLE PAY US.

It matters. It matters a hell of a lot.

The fact that Bob Weinstein treats you like a pasha has exactly zero bearing on any of this, and you need to know that the implication of your posts on the matter is that rather than complaining or pressing for change, we should all do our best to ingratiate ourselves on Bob Weinstein.

You take every opportunity you can to complain about writers, to put them down and to characterize them as whiners and complainers and babies. That’s fine if you’re just one more of us schmucks, but as our representative at the bargaining table? It ain’t right, man. You need to step outside your personal experiences and look around a bit.


MAZIN: JL, while lovely and well-meaning and a friend and colleague of mine, is wrong. My relationship with Bob is highly unusual, but it is largely a post facto product of how I worked and what I did on Scary Movie 3. Just about every bit of nice treatment I received on that movie was received prior to my pashahood.

You’ve got me wrong on the “film by” credit. I hate the “film by” credit. I think it is immoral and evil. When I directed, I was offered the credit, and I turned it down. I will direct again, and I will never take the credit.

However, it is a petty evil. More to the point, I don’t think anyone in the audience gives a damn. They’re more concerned about whether the theater has Junior Mints. Therefore, when I approach projects, I put that credit much lower on my hierarchy of stuff to worry about, because there are many other things that affect me personally and in more impactful ways.

I work with David Zucker. He doesn’t take the credit. I work with Todd Phillips. He does. That factor is pretty damn minor compared to a hundred other factors that make me want to work with them both again.

I will remind you that I did not make that admission about the President, and I reiterated that I didn’t make it, and until Uday and Qusay are brought back to life and Saddam Hussein is returned to power, I will never make it.

The fact is, Josh, that I do and have expended serious energy pushing for change. Actually doing it, Josh, turns out to be more difficult than writing about doing it. I invite you to join the actual non-virtual fight, which involves sitting in a room with CEO’s and DGA officials and anyone else we have a beef with and actually getting what you want.

Unfortunately, you have to strip away all of the armor you’ve collected and earned over the years, including the shiny new Oscar thingy, because when you’re collectively bargaining, you are a scale writer.

I’ll say again that I do NOT characterize “writers” as whiners and babies, although some writers factually are whiners and babies. Some are flat out insane. So what? I work and worry about the ones who aren’t.

Now, even after all of that, MG is actually hoping to hell that I continue to be his representative.

(Craig’s Note: I’m referring here to another poster who expressed concern when I mentioned I would not be running for a second term on the Board of Directors of the WGAw.)

Maybe MG knows a little more about what I actually do for writers than you do, Josh. Maybe MG knows that fourteen tons of your rhetoric have done less for him than the Stockholm Syndrome pasha bootlick has.

Maybe MG knows that you have no idea what I’m really like as a person, nor do you know how I go about the business of spending time and energy advocating for ALL members with our union and the companies.

Or maybe not. Maybe fourteen tons of your rhetoric just about equals what I do. I don’t care.

Either way, I don’t plan on running again. Due to recent developments in our union, there are certain things I can only do if I’m not on the Board…and I want to do them if they become necessary.


OLSON: Craig wrote:

However, it is a petty evil. More to the point, I don’t think anyone in the audience gives two flying fucks.

Um…. You realize that that’s a complete and total non-sequitur, right? It’s like saying segregation was a non-issue because people living in the Ukraine didn’t give two flying fucks about seperate water fountains in Mississippi. This has nothing to do with the audience. This has to do with how directors and writers are perceived by the people who write the checks and dole out the cookies. Not eveything is about the audience, Craig. I’m the last guy in the world to argue that they should give a damn about any of this.

The fact is, Josh, that I do and have expended serious energy pushing for change. Actually doing it, Josh, turns out to be more difficult than writing about doing it.

I’m quite certain.

I invite you to join the actual non-virtual fight, which involves sitting in a room with CEO’s and DGA officials and anyone else we have a beef with and actually getting what you want.

And some day I may do that. Right now, though, you’ll forgive me if I see communicating my concerns with my Guild reps as joining the fight.

I’ll say again that I do NOT characterize “writers” as whiners and babies, although some writers factually are whiners and babies. Some are flat out insane. So what? I work and worry about the ones who aren’t.

Craig, let me step back a bit, because I can come across pretty contentious, and I am a Huey Newton type when it comes to writers rights. I do not mean this as a cavalier smack or an angry response, and you’ve done a good job so far of not taking my comments as insults. I’ve read your posts for quite some time, and most of the time, when you’re discussing writers and their concerns, you’re dismissing them in a fairly insulting manner.

You routinely focus on the negative aspects of some writers, and use those to justify various and sundry mis-treatment of all writers. I cannot recall the last time I saw you be as dismissive of directors, studio execs or producers as you are of writers. You very much seem to have an axe to grind, whether you’re complaining about how pretentious we are, or how whiny we are, or how ignorant we are of reality. I never see you talk that way about anyone else. All of that – wherever it comes from (And your post about why writers don’t hang out with other writers was extremely telling, and extremely inaccurate in my fairly vast experience) HAS to factor into your attitude about the people you represent, and THAT is what worries me. If the guy sitting at the table who’s supposed to carry my water harbors an innate hostility towards me and my concerns, that’s troubling. And anyone who reads your posts couldn’t possibly come to any other conclusion.

I’m sorry you don’t like hanging out with other writers. I’m sorry you think proper attribution of credit is irrelevant. I’m sorry you think anyone why shoots higher than just pleasing the largest audience possible is pretentious. And if none of those actually applies to you, rather than telling me how untrue those characterizations are, why not ask why it is that so many people read that so clearly in what you write here?

Watch Straw Dogs some time if you haven’t lately (or ever.) Peckinpah was trying to say things about the nature of relationships, and of men, but what really comes through the clearest and the loudest is his tremendously screwed up view of women. Not intentional, not conscious, but it’s there, clear and bright as day.


MAZIN: Josh wrote:

[The "film by credit"] has nothing to do with the audience. This has to do with how directors and writers are perceived by the people who write the checks and dole out the cookies.

Uh huh. Okay. Well, I’ll take your point, and pose a question. How will legislating against the “film by” credit change the way we are perceived by the people who write the checks and dole out the cookies? (Hint: history has proven that the companies already agree with us that the credit is stupid, so there’s no influence or standing to actually gain. It’s also proven that they don’t want the DGA to go on strike over this stupid credit, which is what happened the last time the companies agreed with the WGA and tried to kill it.)

That aside, I can safely say that you and I have the same interest in mind. We want the cookie dolers to look at writers more respectfully and considerately than they currently do.

Right now, though, you’ll forgive me if I see communicating my concerns with my Guild reps as joining the fight.

Okay, fair enough. I deserve that.

I’ve read your posts for quite some time, and most of the time, when you’re discussing writers and their concerns, you’re dismissing them in a fairly insulting manner.
You routinely focus on the negative aspects of some writers, and use those to justify various and sundry mis-treatment of all writers. I cannot recall the last time I saw you be as dismissive of directors, studio execs or producers as you are of writers. You very much seem to have an axe to grind, whether you’re complaining about how pretentious we are, or how whiny we are, or how ignorant we are of reality. I never see you talk that way about anyone else.

Right. Well, I dispute your initial statement, because most of the time when I’m discussing writers and their concerns, I’m doing it in a very boring and legalistic way, because that’s often the only kind of language that actually facilitates change with the companies.

Furthermore, I do not believe I have ever justified mistreatment of writers as a group. Some individual writers reap what they sew. That’s just a fact. After all, we’re humans. Some of us are no good.

You do make an excellent point, though, when you note that I reserve the bulk of my criticism for writers, and not for the “others”.

Here’s why.

I’m talking amongst colleagues, and I’m urging us, a group with which I identify and to which I belong, to CHANGE.

I can’t urge producers and directors to change. They are Others. They’re on the opposite side of the table (most of the time). I’ll approach those guys with a smile on my face and a knife in my hand and get as much as I can possibly get for me, for you, for all of us.

But how do I approach me and you and all of us? How do I talk to la famiglia? Honesty and forthrightness. We will never get stronger if we don’t stop talking about our weakness. Crying won’t help ya, prayin’ won’t do ya no good.

Chalk it up to tough love. What’s the point of urging producers to be fairer or more considerate or more respectful? Please. Like they care about those things? They’re not in that business. Producers must be negotiated with. They must be convinced, wheedled, cajoled, and ultimately, they must be overcome.

Writers? I just want us to grow up. I think we can do better. I’d rather be the jerk who holds up a mirror than the demagogue patting people on the back. I think frank and self-critical examination is healthy and valuable, just as I think humoring and agreeing and rah-rahing and pity parties and soft saline-absorbent shoulders are unproductive and generate complacency and self-denial.

If the guy sitting at the table who’s supposed to carry my water harbors an innate hostility towards me and my concerns, that’s troubling. And anyone who reads your posts couldn’t possibly come to any other conclusion.

I don’t harbor an innate hostility to you and your concerns. I disagree with some of your positions, but overall, I’d say we’re actually on the same page.

This “only possible conclusion” line is so you, Josh. Yes. That’s right. No other conclusion but yours is even possible.

I’m sorry you don’t like hanging out with other writers.

My article clearly said the opposite. In fact, I specifically talked about the kind of writers I like having relationships with. It’s just that I tend to not do it in person as much as via telephone and email. I’m basically an introvert. Sorry.

I’m sorry you think proper attribution of credit is irrelevant.

Anyone who even has passing knowledge of me and what I care about knows how ignorant that comment is. Go read my articles on credits. Or consider that I’m currently co-chairing the Screen Credits Review Committee. I’m obsessed with the proper attribution of credits.

The difference between us is that I’m more obsessed with the ones I know I have a prayer of improving. Even if you put aside all other issues, the demographics of our own membership make fighting the possessory credit a waste of time. We would have to strike to get it. There are a lot more TV writers than screenwriters. They’re not striking over this. Anyone who tells you that the WGA will ever be successful in forcing out the “film by” credit is blowing smoke up your ass.

I’m sorry you think anyone why shoots higher than just pleasing the largest audience possible is pretentious.

I don’t think that, I’ve never said or written that, and I have said and written to the contrary.

And if none of those actually applies to you, rather than telling me how untrue those characterizations are, why not ask why it is that so many people read that so clearly in what you write here?

Too late on not telling you how untrue they are. Besides, I enjoy defending my own honor. Still, you pose another good question. Here are some possible reasons “people” (whomever they may be) misinterpret what I write in such a gross manner.

  1. I’m a bad writer.
  2. People are sloppy readers.
  3. I’m hitting a nerve, and I’m getting a defensive response.

It’s probably a combination of all three. I turn this exchange back to you for the final salvo.


OLSON: Craig wrote:

How will legislating against the “film by” credit change the way we are perceived by the people who write the checks and dole out the cookies? (Hint: history has proven that the companies already agree with us that the credit is stupid, so there’s no influence or standing to actually gain. It’s also proven that they don’t want the DGA to go on strike over this stupid credit, which is what happened the last time the companies agreed with the WGA and tried to kill it.)

First of all, I’ve already discussed this, and second of all, history has proven no such thing. And as I touched on in the last post, the “film by” credit has already been legislated against us. If it helps your conservative soul live with it more, don’t think of it as creating new legislation… think of it as eradicating old legislation. Happy now?

I can’t urge producers and directors to change.

Um….. That’s sort of your job.

How do I talk to la famiglia? Honesty and forthrightness.

If you want to stick with the mafia analogy, you don’t do that in front of strangers.

Chalk it up to tough love.

Which I’ve always perceived as the first resort of the black-hearted. Sorry.

I’d rather be the jerk who holds up a mirror than the demagogue patting people on the back.

Again, I have no issue with that. None. As long as you’re just one of us, even if I disagree with your points, I respect your right to feel differently. But when you’re our rep, no. It doesn’t wash. As our rep, it’s not your job to tell us what’s wrong with us. It’s your job to fight for us, and not weaken our position with the folks across the table.


And so ends the debate. I look forward to keeping this ball rolling for a while with Josh and the rest of you in the comments section.

A History Of Debate, Part I

Craig Mazin 07 Feb 2006 | : The Craft & Trade, WGA Issues

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In a previous post, I wrote about how I like to foster relationships with writers who are better than I. I suppose I should have qualified that to say I like to fostering good relationships with those writers, but I’ll take contentious over nothing.

Enter Josh Olson, currently nominated for an Oscar for his outstanding work writing A History Of Violence.

Josh and I have tangled before in the political debate forum at WriterAction, a BBS for WGA members only. Recently, though, we had a debate about a very important and personal topic for both of us. The exchange covered a lot of ground, but it largely centered around our differing philosophies of how professional film writers ought to view the relationships between each other and their employers, how union representatives ought to behave, and above all, what attitude is ultimately the most productive one if your self-professed goal is to improve the professional lives of screenwriters.

The whole thing was pretty much kicked off by another individual who stated (and I paraphrase) that everyone in Hollywood pretty much owes their jobs to writers, as we provide the genesis for the process that employs everyone.

I argued that we need everyone else as much as they need us, because without people to produce our screenplays, our screenplays are unsellable. No us, no them. No them, no us.

I now present Part One of the great debate. The posts are edited only for the occasional obscenity (as we do have young readers) and in places where other individuals’ posts were referenced.

Thanks to the administrators of WriterAction for granting their permission to reprint these posts.


MAZIN: (in response to another person’s comment) I agree that our task is either as difficult as or MORE difficult than practically any job done on or for a movie. And I agree that if a writer is scorned, there’s a fair chance it’s because that writer is an a-hole. Saying things like, “You wouldn’t have a job if it weren’t for me” is consistent with that aforementioned scorn-generating quality.


OLSON:

And I agree that if a writer is scorned, there’s a fair chance it’s because that writer is an a-hole.”

No offense, but if you really believe that, you’ve either had a truly blessed experience in this business, or you’ve never actually worked in it.


MAZIN: Clearly, I’ve worked. Perhaps my experience is blessed. I don’t know. I work and play well with others in my sandbox. I’ve been treated poorly a few times, but mostly treated with respect and decency. I have watched writers be assholes and get treated poorly. But there’s no hard and fast rule.


OLSON: I’ll put my rep as a pleasant, decent, nice and easy guy to work with up against anyone here, Craig. Anyone. And while I have watched writers be a-holes and treated poorly, I’ve also worked in a system for almost two decades that by its very design treats writers badly as a matter of course. That you’ve managed to work in the business for almost ten years and not see that speaks to an amazing streak of luck that I’m sure everyone here finds enviable. But you need to know you’re an amazing exception.

Or it could just be that your bar is pretty low. To most of us, the writer is one of the most essential and important people in the process, deserving of just as much respect and recognition as the cast and the director. If you don’t buy into that, I suppose it would be possible to work here and not get the general frustration most writers feel at their treatment.


MAZIN: Yes, it may be that my bar is low, and it may be luck. Or maybe I just do things differently. Maybe people just want to love me because I’m so squeezable. I don’t know.

I’ll reiterate, though, that I have been treated poorly at times. And I get the frustration, because I’ve felt it. I do try and not dwell on the frustration, but simply steer around a-holes who frustrate me.


OLSON: Craig, please don’t take this personally, or as an insult or an attack. It is an observation, and one that is shared by many people who are familiar with your posts here and on your own web page – and I’m talking lots of people, including some of the biggest writers in this business…. when I read your posts on the treatment of writers, the complaints of writers, and issues related to the treatment of writers, the phrase that often comes to mind is “The Stockholm Syndrome.”

Dismiss that with a joke, by all means, but to many of us, this is our bread and butter, and a monumentally serious concern.


MAZIN: I can’t take your comment personally, but I can’t be removed from it via humor…so…I guess I’ll look at it from a purely intellectual point of view.

Some of the biggest writers in the business disagree with me, which I think is to be expected. Some of the biggest writers in the business agree with me, which I think is to be expected.

I am, after all, controversial. That’s not a point of pride…because I’m definitely not taking this personally. It’s just true. I hold some opinions that are controversial.

The implication of the Stockholm Syndrome is:

  1. That a writer’s natural state is that of a victim/hostage
  2. A writer who does not view his employers as hostage takers or abusers only fails to view them this way because their abuse has psychologically damaged them.

I dispute that our natural state is that of a victim or hostage, although it’s clear to me that many writers feel like victims and hostages. I’m not denying those feelings. I’m saying that our feeling-state of victimhood is not consistent with the reality of the actual status power we can wield if we just view ourselves as film-making partners.

Therefore, while I can never prove that I’m not insane or warped or servile or abused, it is my contention that I am not abused.

On my last movie, I was paid well. I was treated well by the director, the producer, and the head of the studio. I was meaningfully consulted on all aspects of pre-production, production and post-production. My name was on the call sheet. I had a trailer on the set. I had a seat at video village. I gave notes on all cuts of the movie. I was present at all test-screenings of the movie. I was meaningfully consulted on all aspects of the marketing of the film.

Prior to the production of that film, I had no hit movies to my name. No Oscar nominations either.

So…am I a victim dreaming that he is a film-making partner, or are you a film-making partner dreaming that you are a victim?

I’ve already acknowledged that victims and crimes DO exist. They happen often, in fact. Nonetheless, I will not spout feel-goodisms in order to buck us all up in a mutually satisfying Oprah moment of communal victimhood worship.

Writers are professional entrepreneurial adults. Professional entrepreneurial adults are responsible for their fates.

Here’s the message that “some of the biggest writers in the business” have given me.

“Your website would be better if you stopped coddling writers and just told them to stop acting like babies all the time.”

I don’t do that, because I don’t think writers are babies all the time, but you’re kidding yourself if you think I’m some special Quisling case.

There’s plenty of people who think like me, and there are plenty who are far harsher in their view.

Believe it or not, fellow bread and butter eater…this is MY monumentally serious concern. Writers will always be externally limited. We don’t have to be internally limited as well.


OLSON:

I’ve already acknowledged that victims and crimes DO exist. They happen often, in fact. Nonetheless, I will not spout feel-goodisms in order to buck us all up in a mutually satisfying Oprah moment of communal victimhood worship.

Writers are professional entrepreneurial adults. Professional entrepreneurial adults are responsible for their fates.

Indeed. I bust my ass to make sure I don’t screwed on deals. Before I was in the Guild, I was almost always paid well above Guild minimum, and made a point of standing firm on issues that many writers don’t, sometimes at the risk of losing a job. My agent is psyching himself up for the fact that on future projects, for instance, I’m making it a deal breaker that if I’m the sole writer, nobody can take a “film by” credit, and I’m considering taking a similar position on audio commentary tracks. I wish I could have taken those positions when I first broke in, but I simply could not. There’s a certain amount of clout that comes from my current position, and I intend to maximize that.

I’ve always been this way – I’ve always done my own work, fought my own fights, and because I’ve been around a decent amount of time, and because I’ve worked all sides of the fence, I’m a little more capable at some of this than some people. And if you and I are two writers just shooting the shit, and you say you don’t care about those things in your deals, I say, Go with God, my son. But if you’re a representative of my union, I say you damn well better care about those things, because suddenly your attitudes about these things affects MY livelihood.

I do those things because I can, but you know what? I shouldn’t have to. Those things ought to be a given in ANY writer’s deal, because I’d much rather spend my time writing and playing goddam video games than ensuring that I don’t get screwed by a system that is designed to treat me like an interchangable cog in the wheel.

Because in the end, Craig, it’s not about whether or not you or I have worked with producers or directors who personally treat us well or badly. It’s about whether or not we work in a system that is designed to degrade our input.

There’s plenty of people who think like me, and there are plenty who are far harsher in their view.

If they’re on the board of directors of my guild, I’d love to know their names, because while they might be representing someone when they’re sitting at the negotiating table, it ain’t writers.


That concludes this first chapter of the debate. I’ll be back in a few days to bring you the next installment. In the meantime, feel free to continue the debate amongst yourselves. Josh has graciously agreed to let me publish this exchange here, so I ask the home-team crowd to be as respectful of him as you would of me.