"Free" Rewrites--What Is To Be Done?
Our union has its share of evergreen problems…you know, the ones that never seem to go away. The pernicious practice of “free rewrites” is certainly one of them.
Here’s the way it works. The WGA requires that its members be paid for the work they do (duh). However, there’s a longstanding practice in the industry called “the producer’s draft”. You are commenced to write a draft, you turn in the draft, and the producer says, “Great. I have some notes. Do another draft, and then we’ll turn that in as the first draft to the studio.”
This is wrong. First off, it’s against WGA working rules. Secondly, every time a writer agrees to work for free, they are essentially undercutting every other writer in the union. Our minimums are in place as much to protect us from each other as they are from the Companies.
So why do writers acquiesce? Typically, it’s because they’re scared they will get fired or be labelled “difficult”. Unfortunately, the more you acquiesce, the more you are exploited. That’s the nature of the beast. There are cases where writers have literally done seven “free” drafts before getting paid…and when they do get paid, it’s for one draft.
By the way, I put “free” in quotes because nothing’s free. “Free” drafts actually cost us all money. They deprive the union of dues, they deprive the Health & Pension Fund of contributions, and they hurt every other writer who is now expected to conform to this practice.
The problem is…what the hell do we do about this?
The Guild arbitrated against the Companies, and they failed. Why? Well, it turns out that the Companies have very cleverly put distance between themselves and the producers they contract with. Technically speaking, there is one “delivery agent” for every script, and it’s often someone completely unrealistic (e.g. the chairperson of the studio). As such, the producers aren’t officially the employers of the writer, and so their requests can’t be seen as official or binding in any way. The Companies’ answer to the Guild’s demand that they do something about their producers was rather telling.
Basically, they said, “How about you tell your writers to simply refuse to do the free work, per your own freaking rules.”
Okay, fair point.
So, one might simply say, “Hey, let’s enforce our rules! If we catch you doing free work, we’ll fine you!”
Well, for starters, we don’t have any way of sussing out who’s doing the free work. Writers are notoriously fearful of complaining to the Guild because they think it will negatively impact their career. And then there’s other big humongo problem.
We have writers in our union who get paid millions for a screenplay. Those writers aren’t particularly interested in holding the Companies’ feet to the fire on every small revision or tweak. There’s a gentlemen’s agreement (pardon the sexism) that when you get paid millions of dollars, you may choose to work in a flexible manner.
Those writers are fiercely opposed to the Guild interfering in their lucrative work, particularly when it is lucrative for the union as well.
While some disagree, I’ve always thought of this problem as one primarily caused by and impacting the same subset of writers: screenwriters making low six-figures per script. They’re the ones who feel they have the most to lose if they refuse to do the free work (because they can’t walk into another studio the next day and get a million-dollar assignment), and they’re the ones who are being exploited by the free rewrite practice (because, well, they’re not making crazy money…although I know lots of people would argue that anything in six figures is crazy money).
Jacob Weinstein, our intrepid Man In London, once compared the problem to an interesting bit of Game Theory known as “the tragedy of the commons”. If you don’t feel like slogging through it, I’ll offer Jacob’s elegant summary:
People are more likely to do the wrong thing if they think everybody else is doing the wrong thing.
Once a writer becomes convinced that everyone else is doing free rewrites, he begins to feel like a self-crucifying schmuck for not doing them. Likewise, if a writer became convinced that very few writers were doing free rewrites, he’d begin to feel like a doormat (and schmuck) for agreeing to them.
Jacob’s idea is to publicize a long and impressive list of writers who simply do not do free work. However, it’s hard to say where “gentlemen’s tweaks” end and “free work” begins.
Does anyone out there have any suggestions?
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Craig,
With all due respect to Mr. Weinstein, it is more of a prisoner’s dilemma than a tragedy of the commons.
In a tragedy of the commons there is a resource that anyone can access (the commons) and no-one has the ability to prevent access.
In the classic prisoner’s dilemma, two men are arrested for a crime and put into seperate holding cells. If neither confess they go free, if one confesses and the other stays silent, the confessee goes free, the other goes to jail for a long time, if both confess, they both go to jail, but for a shorter period.
In the writer’s dilemma, if all writers refuse to do free rewrites (ignoring gentlemen’s agreements for now) then everyone gets paid what they deserve for their work, if some writers refuse to do free rewrites, and other writers do free rewrites, producers are going to work with the latter and not the former, if all writers do free rewrites, producers are happy, no writer is unemployed, but all writers are doing unpaid work.
Prisoners’ dilemmas occur because of a lack of information—if you don’t know what the other guy is doing, you have to do what is optimal (confess, free rewrite) given that lack of information.
You can get out of them by:
Setting up legal defaults -A new MBA that protects writers from such producers (through fines or etc.) -Legislation (e.g. the Fair Labor Standards Act) that does the same thing.
Or by increasing the information available (as Mr. Weinstein has suggested) -List of writers who won’t do “free rewrites” -List of producers who demand “free rewrites” -Information on exactly how much a “free” rewrite costs a rewriter.
Or by increasing the punishment for the non-optimal choice (legal deterrents) -Fines for writers who do free rewrites -Suspension from WGA for a time. [Note I’m not suggesting any of these options, just stating that these are some of the ways to beat the prisoner’s dilemma]
Ultimately the solution for any individual writer may be to find a better agent. That agent can negotiate with the producer on the writer’s behalf based on the agent’s experience, and shared intra-agency knowledge, of the custom and practice of re-writes(a decided information advantage over an individual writer and perhaps indivdiual producer). This might mean more than one free rewrite for the writer, but much less than seven.
Cheers, T
I love you, Craig, but your consistent and ridiculously obvious prejudice against anyone who makes less than seven figures for an assignment is really beginning to grate.
Part of the reason I wanted to be a professional writer, and one of the reasons I continue to stick around despite rampant job insecurity is that I want to work the way I want to work. I want to decide what jobs I’ll do. I want to decide when I’ll do them, and I want to decide how I’ll do them. You don’t have anything close to that sort of freedom if you have a 9-5 office job, but writers, even those of us who can live happily on money you find laughable, enjoy enormous autonomy.
Yes, you are almost certainly correct when you say that the alleged “free rewrites problem” (I say alleged because it’s not a problem for me despite the fact that, scandalously, I make well under seven figures per script) is more likely to affect those who make less money because they are more immediately dependent on the goodwill and goodly coffers of the employers.
But you could not be more wrong when you say that the “problem” is primarily caused by these same writers. EVERY SINGLE WRITER who does free drafts is part of the problem.
If writers at the top of the food chain are willingly doing work above and beyond the letter of their contracts, that is definitely going to negatively impact those below. If a $1M writer happily does free work, why wouldn’t a producer use that to goad a $750k writer who might otherwise be reluctant? Or a $500k writer? And so on. Your argument, posted elsewhere, that a producer would never say to a low-quote writer, “Hey, A-lister X does free work, who are you to say no?” because the writer would respond, “Pay me A-lister X’s quote and I will” is less than convincing because were the low-quote writer to respond that way, the producer could smoothly shoot back with, “How do you think think A-lister X got to be where he is? It sure wasn’t by saying no,” or, “If I’d had a million dollars to spend on a writer, do you think I’d have ever hired you?” The point is that if the WGA has plans to formally address this problem, ALL MEMBERS are going to have to be held accountable to exactly the same standard, or other problems will arise, not the least of which is that lower income members will feel put-upon and oppressed by both the Companies and their own Guild if the WGA starts to make income-based distinctions when it comes to who must and who may follow certain rules.
Just as our millionaire members would be expected to walk a picket line to save our health plan if necessary, even though most of them wouldn’t even miss the money it would cost to cover their own health care, these same members need to be ready and willing to make a stand so that all members can potentially benefit and the union as a whole can be stronger moving forward.
That said, and for the record (yet again), I am in that class of writers you are so willing to write off as weak and problematic, yet I am fiercely opposed to ANY WGA intervention on this “problem” because any writer worth his salt should know when and how to defend himself and his work from exploitation. I don’t see how self-respect and self-reliance can ever be mandated or regulated.
Jacob has it exactly right (and Trev, PD or ToC is the same Game Theory Matrix… doesn’t really matter what you call it). The insight is a governing body must punish its noncomplying members.
And this is typically when all hell breaks loose.
Candidly, Jacob’s solution is far tamer than most I have observed. For example, in real estate, a broker who cheats on the establish comission structure will be denied access to the central listing service, esentially putting them out of business. Thus, it would not be unprecidented for the WGA to assert that - as a governing body - it would expell any members who violated the ‘no free rewrite’ policy.
But it doesn’t take a Game Theorist to figure out how that would go over.
Essentially, if this is an economically significant issue for the Guild, it must take upon itself an enforcement role. The risk is some of the expelled (or reactionary) members would create a competing faction, that claimed to be more permissive of individual members’ “right” to negotiate their contractual agreements. But in all candor, only fools would rally under this flag (as it offers no effective collective negotiating position).
In short, the only effective response is to enforce a punishment strategy for cheaters; and all things considered, public humiliation is one of the tamest approaches an organizing body may employ.
Lee
This is why cartels rarely last - it’s in each person’s interest to be the only person who cheats, so everyone (or almost everyone) cheats.
If there were a solution to the “problem”, I think it would have been found long ago. I put problem in quotation marks, because it isn’t really a problem: it’s a solution. The producers in one industry (ironically, the “producers” are us writers) are attempting to extract monopoly rents (that is, a price above what the free market would bear) from consumers (“consumers” here being the studios that need scripts). Cheating drives down the price of scripts, which leads to a more optimal number of movies being made.
The Wikipedia, as always, has more.
M.
Denise:
I have no such bias.
A point that Ron Bass made today is that once you get a certain amount over scale, “free rewrites” becomes a meaningless phrase. What’s happening instead is that the writer you describe who earns a million bucks is essentially taking lots of money up front for a number of drafts he’ll deliver per his choice, but never such an amount of “free work” that reduces the fee per draft to below scale.
The same is not true, of course, for scale or near-scale writers who then agree to do free drafts.
The fact is that this is an economic problem, and writers who work for less than scale are undercutting other writers. Happily, you do not. My argument, as it were, isn’t against writers like you. In fact, writers like you are actually the heroes in this situation, because you stand up for yourselves and the entire concept of minimums when you say “no”.
C.
If those deals are literally structured to include an undetermined number of drafts, then we’re fine.
If, however, those deals are of the standard draft-and-set variety, then we’re not fine.
When I say no, it’s not because I don’t feel I’ve been paid enough to say yes. It’s because saying yes would violate the terms of the agreement I signed. Maybe I’m the only person in the WGA who actually reads her contracts?
Look, I would be very happy indeed if the WGA could work toward an overhaul of the way feature deals are structured so that writers were paid by the week or month vs. by the draft. Maybe with nice bonuses if, say, a draft you write hooks a director or a star (I’d have more money and more obvious bragging rights on a project or two if the world worked that way, certainly). I have said before (as have others) that this problem probably has as much or more to do with the fact that the rigid structure of feature deals is all but incompatible with the development process than anything else.
But that’s what we have to work with at present, and given that, I just don’t see how you can argue that a guy who signed a million-dollar contract that calls for one draft and one rewrite can write 10 drafts without being considered a troublemaker while a guy who signs a $150k contract that calls for one draft and one rewrite is a troublemaker if he writes three drafts. Both of them have violated the terms of their contracts, and both of them are therefore in violation of the MBA. And neither of them is doing the rest of the WGA membership any favors.
If the WGA can’t or won’t acknowledge that, we’re all in trouble far beyond any issues concerning free rewrites.
Denise:
It’s all-too-easy to restructure a contract to address your complaint. In fact, it’s so easy, it’s pretty much pointless.
Say we’ve got the guy making $1,000,000. He likes to do some free drafts. The Guild gets pissed.
Okay, easy. His new contract is structured as a ten draft deal, with each draft for $100,000, all drafts after the second draft being required only by mutual consent, and all ten drafts on a pay-or-play basis.
The upshot? He gets a guaranteed $1,000,000, he only has to write two drafts, but he can write up to ten drafts…all legally per the MBA.
Since the contract equivalent is so easy to arrange, it seems a bit picayune to stand on a technicality of contract language…and if we did, contracts would be reworked to conform.
Once that happened, we’d be right back where I’m claiming we are now: dealing with scale or near scale writers who are undercutting minimums.
I’ll pick up the argument. What’s the problem with free re-writes?
The argument seems to be encapsulated here:
“First off, it’s against WGA working rules. Secondly, every time a writer agrees to work for free, they are essentially undercutting every other writer in the union.”
Other than the fact that it’s against the WGA rules, is doing free re-writes wrong in and of itself, and why is doing them against the rules in the first place?
I can actually come up with three arguments why the re-write rule should be left up to individual contractors.
1. Take two writers, A and B. A agrees to a contract where he provides the first draft for 100k, and does rewrites for 25k a pop. B agrees to a contract where he gets 300k for the first draft and agrees to do at least two free rewrites, and will continue to do free rewrites until the producers annoy him too much. Why is B considered to be “essentially undercutting every other writer in the union”?
We don’t worry that those who sell screenpalys for 150k are undercutting the 450k a script writers, but for some reason how one chooses to approach the collaboration process becomes a big sticking point.
I suppose one might argue that free rewrites aren’t wrong in the above case, but are wrong when they’re done by writers who are only earning the guild minimum for a job. However, that implies that the guild should focus its attention on punishing those members of the guild who are already the worst off; which strikes me as disturbingly similar to eating one’s young.
2. Rewrites are fuzzy. When taking a director’s notes we would go through the drafts rather fast. There’d be a draft where we cut a fair bit of stuff then re-wrote one or two scenes, then a few more drafts with similar levels of changes. None of these took more than a couple days to implement and, except during the very early revisions (prior to sending a script out) I’d much rather make a series of small adjustments instead of over-compensating.
Now, was that seven re-writes, two, or one? Is there some guy at a typewriter in a vault in Geneva who provides an international standard for the amount of writing that constitutes a re-write?
Maybe it’s the hours of re-writing that should count�
3. But I’m not punching a clock, I’m writing a movie. When I work with a production company, at the start at least, I want to work with them until the project is finished. I’m neither paid by the hour nor by the word.
I’d much rather be in a situation where I stay on a project until either I tire of it, or someone higher up kicks me out. Even if that means I need to keep doing rewrites to make sure that all these little changes various people involved in the collaboration want don’t end up breaking the story. Or maybe just keep working at it until I get the story right; despite my largish ego and grumbling, even late in the day changes often do make it a better movie.
Craig:
The problem is that the Guild isn’t getting pissed at our million-dollar friend. Or at least you’re not.
And, look, beyond this debate, I honestly don’t care what anybody else does. If somebody making $100k for a draft and a set allows himself to be badgered into writing 10 drafts, hey, whatever you may think, that’s not a problem for me personally. I’m not asking for help here.
But as a member of the WGAw Board of Directors you’re offering it, as per your obligation to those you represent.
But who are you representing with these arguments? In your capacity as a member of the Board you represent the whole union, do you not? And in union terms, all current-active members are equal, regardless of whether they make scale, scale + 10% or gazillions, right?
Yet you continually insist that members are NOT equal, that someone who makes a million dollars is entitled (and you know how it pains me to use that word) to make career choices that someone who makes scale is not, and that Mr. Seven Figures can write as many drafts as he pleases, while Mr. Low-Six has to restrict himself to two, even if he’s personally most creative and most comfortable with a freer method of writing that might include, say, four drafts, because we’re going to do the math on Mr. Low-Six and, oh my God, he’s working for less than scale on a per-draft basis if he does four drafts.
What if Mr. Seven Figures does 15 drafts? He’s now perilously close to scale. Will the WGA police finally come after him then, or is it still cool because, damn, he made a million dollars, and that makes him exempt from the rules lesser mortals must obey?
If what you’re really saying is that the WGA should run the numbers, and if and only if a writer does so many drafts that his per-draft rate dips below WGA minimums should he be called out for it, that might work…assuming that you plan to keep track of every member’s output AND you clearly define what constitutes a draft (will a producer’s pass count, for example?). It’s not a pretty system, and it’s still more than a little biased in favor of the big boys, who will be freer to write and submit more drafts for consideration in credit arbitrations, for example…but at least it would require all members to play by the same rules on some level.
Either we stand together on this one, or we forget about it (and that is fine with me, as you know).
Malvolio,
The problem with your view is that it’s fatalistic and not catagorically true: there are many industry organizations which successfully exhibit collective behavior. And there is no reason why the WGA can and should learn from them.
But what makes this issue so difficult is being illustrated by Craig & Denise’s exchange: the double standard of the ‘haves’ when contrasted against those suggested for the ‘have nots.’
lt
that is: “And there is no reason why the WGA cannot, and should not learn from them.”
Damn double negatives…
Lee, you’re right that the solution of mine that Craig quotes is pretty mild. Craig’s summary of my very long and somewhat geeky argument is fair and accurate, I think, but the nature of a summary is that it leaves some stuff out. Here’s the relevant excerpt:
I agree with you that wiping out free rewrites is going to require something stronger, like sanctions against Guild members who do them.
Craig wrote:
As you say, for an a-list writer, reworking a contract would have no monetary consequences; instead of getting paid $1 million for one draft, he’d get paid $100,000 for each of 10 drafts.
But it’s on the bottom end of the payment scale that we’d see real changes. If I’m getting paid $100,000 for my entire contract, that payment cannot be divvied up into 10 payments without falling below Guild minimums. If a company wants to include 10 drafts in my contract, the very least they can pay me is 10 times the minimum fee for a single draft, which works out to, what, about $270,000?
In other words, I think we’ve just solved the very problem that was bugging you. If the Guild starts getting hardline about requiring its members to avoid free rewrites, it won’t really have any effect on the 7-figure guys (other than requiring them to change the language of their contracts.) It will, however, have an impact on anybody who is making $270,000 or less—which is the very group you think is most affected by the issue.
As a side benefit, if a crackdown on free rewrites causes the “2-to-10-draft” contract to become standard, it amounts to a backdoor rise in minimums, since the de facto minimum will approach 10x(minimum for a single draft).
Oops—just to clarify one thing; the “relevant excerpt” I quote at the beginning is an excerpt from my original argument, which was posted to WriterAction, and which Craig is summarizing in his post.
Jacob, the problem with everything Craig has posted so far, at least given how I’ve been interpreting him, is that…well, let Craig speak for himself:
So, translating: “The deatails of a million-dollar writer’s contract have no bearing whatsoever on this issue, and if you dare to suggest we are breaking the rules, we’ll just rewrite the rules as we please”…and, by extension, “You guys at the low end of the pay scale: You’re on your own. Good luck.”
I agree with you, Jacob, that if every WGA writer were required to play ball on this issue, top writers who now ignore the strict terms of their draft-and-set deals and do more than two drafts would be forced to rewrite their contracts to accommodate their multidraft style…but do you honestly think somebody whose quote is now $1M for a draft-and-set would EVER agree to a contract that said his rate was now $100k per draft, even if payment were guaranteed for at least 10 drafts? No way. NO WAY. Even though that may be what they’re actually working for, that looks like a huge pay cut. The fact that these writers have done it to themselves—and that their casual attitude toward their contracts means that writers getting paid much less are likely to be squeezed for more drafts than their contracts are for as well—hardly matters. And why should it? They’re millionaires, right?
But let’s go to fantasyland for just a moment and say that this did start to happen—$1M contracts were now pay-or-play 10-draft deals rather than two-draft deals. That would absolutely trickle down, and either writers at the bottom of the totem pole would eventually start getting deals for more money simply because they would now be guaranteed payment for more drafts, or they would still be getting one- or two-draft deals…but they’d only be asked to do one or two drafts. And that’s what I thought the ultimate goal was here—simply to make sure that writers are not being coerced into doing more work than they’re getting compensated for, whatever level they’re being compensated at.
But Craig has made it clear that in his view, the higest paid writers aren’t even in the same universe, and if they do 10 drafts for their million-dollar paydays, that’s their right, and since they’re still getting more than scale for each draft, that’s all that matters. So to hell with any suggestion that, far from saying no to “free” work, they simply restructure their contracts to more accurately reflect the amount of work they do.
And that’s a shame, because if the WGA really did draw a hard line on this issue, I think writers who now get a million for a contracted draft-and-set that in reality ends up being more than two drafts would soon be getting, say, $1.5M, because if even nobody writers start to get $300k for the new-and-improved multidraft deal, won’t that bump work its way up to the top?
We’ll never know. As long as our WGAw representatives refuse to consider all contract violations equal, nothing positive is likely to happen for any of us, never mind all of us.
Denise:
I am not suggesting two standards. I’m suggesting one standard.
Here it is.
No writer should do a volume of work for a sum total of money that equates to less-than-scale for the parts.
Now, granted, that’s pie-in-the-sky. Enforcement is still an issue. Tracking it is still an issue. I do think, however, you need to get past this notion of bias or discrimination. There is none. It’s a simple mathematical reality. The concept of undercutting states that performing work for less than minimum hurts all writers. The only writers who can truly undercut minimums in any meaningful way are writers who are going to earn minimum or near-minimum for the totality of their work.
Actually, the only bit of codified discrimination in the MBA that I know of cuts against writers who earn overscale. I believe you’re allowed to use a pseudonym on a movie if you’ve earned $200,000 or less for your work. Anything over, and no pseudonym is possible.
Jacob, the problem with being hardline with our own members isn’t really that lawyers and members will be forced to become experts and finessing the union (which I don’t think would be a productive thing, btw). The problem with the “punish the members” theory is that it has a real cost, and that cost isn’t just immediately. We can absolutely start spending money to enforce the rules, track the projects, investigate writers and what they’re doing, and then fine them publicly and severely when they don’t comply.
What will result, however, is an atmosphere of fear and resentment towards the union, because the crime here isn’t a rare and shameful one like murder, but a common and disputed one, like smoking a joint. After three years of alienating our membership, how will this impact our ability to call a strike vote? Organize new members into our union? Get good people to run for office and the Board?
Before we can enforce the law on this, we have to first get over the part that a lot of our writers don’t want this law enforced.
Denise wrote:
That’s not a problem. You can set a “quote” amount that’s different from the payment structure, or even what you’re paid.
Basically, you set up a contract that gets you paid your quote. If it’s $1,000,000 for a draft and a set, so be it.
Then you do a side letter, which amends the contract, and does so specifically on a “no quote basis”.
I’ve done this before, and although it’s typically used to get you amounts that are higher than your quote without penalizing the company by making the higher number your new official quote, it can and has also used to agree to do jobs for less than your quote without penalizing you.
I get what you’re saying. I’ve been getting it all along.
What you are not getting is that for writers working their first jobs, or writers like me who haven’t yet been produced (and work in about the least commercial non-porn genre known to man…but that’s definitely another story), this is NOT simply about math.
If writers in the top earning tiers are ignoring the terms of their contracts and doing drafts that have not been contracted for, executives are going to see no reason not to expect the same level of work and dedication from writers in the bottom tiers. That’s it. That’s the reality.
If the WGA sanctions this by constructing and implementing a scheme whereby only writers at the bottom tiers are going to be held accountable for doing drafts they have not been contracted for, it will make those writers think twice before caving to requests for free work, but it will do absolutely nothing to discourage executives from asking for it. And so long as that pressure remains, writers are going to cave to it. Maybe fewer than before…but maybe not. Either way, writers who are already suffering psychologically and financially from this sort of pressure are going to end up just as victimized and twice as isolated, because they’ll feel that their Guild has singled them out for punishment rather than extended a helping hand.
Honestly, if you can’t get your head around that, there’s simply nothing more to say.
Ah.
Okay, I think I’ve found a major difference here.
I don’t think there is any effective system that will ever make executives and producers stop asking for free rewrites across the board. Since I don’t think they will ever stop asking, I’ve ceased looking for ways to carpet bomb the demand side of this economic problem, and I’ve concentrated largely on the supply side of the problem to help me find a way to limit my attack on the demand side.
In short, it may be possible to get executives and producers to agree to not ask scale and near scale writers for free work. It is not, IMO, possible to get them to agree to not ask all writers for free work.
So…should we ask them this or not?
I don’t see a world in which executives willingly exempt the lowest paid writers—and, therefore, in their minds, the least talented and most expendable writers—from requests for uncontracted, uncompensated work. As long as some writers—among them, the highest paid, most talented (perceptually, anyway) and least expendable writers—are doing it freely (and with the tacit approval of the WGA), all writers are going to be seen as fair game. If anything, I think if the WGA tried and, God forbid, succeeded in this, the result would be that fewer new writers would be given breaks and writers working at the tier above the “no-ask zone” would become the new whipping boys.
So my answer is no, we should not ask for this. We should not do anything. You already know, of course, that that has been my position all along anyway, and that I think individual writers should be free to make their own choices, good and bad. The Guild can and should let its members know that there are some writers who do say no to free work—that won’t change the culture, but it might provide encouragement to some writers who feel totally powerless simply because they have no idea that “no” is indeed a viable option.
I have to say, however, that one thing I’ve gotten out of this debate is a feeling that I’ve been a total asshole for not just doing tons of free work, because clearly everybody does do it, and I have almost certainly earned myself a reputation as a writer who doesn’t understand or play by the rules, a rep that probably isn’t doing me any favors when assignments come up. I get the rules now.
And they pretty much suck.
But, hey, welcome to Hollywood, right?
PS: That said, fuck the rules, I’m not going to compromise myself just because other writers can’t or won’t stand up for themselves or their work.
One of the problems with this discussion, I think, is we’re ignoring two things: interpersonal relationships between writer and producer, and the new one-step bullshit that’s being put in place.
I mean, we keep talking about theory, completely ignoring the fact of how the damn movies get made. My current gig has three producers attached under the studio. Each has a valid reason for input. Do I deny them notes before this thing kicks up to studio? Do I piss off the guy who went to the wall for me to get me on the project against a studio exec who didn’t dig me? Do I let the attached talent’s rep know that the attached talent’s input is no longer respected? Many producers interact meaningfully with executives repeatedly, while I’ll stumble across the same exec maybe twice in my career, and I’m 17-odd movies in. If the producer lets me know that the gatekeeper exec’s got a bug up his ass about something I’ve done, do I say “no free rewrites” and results be damned? What about the “director tweak”? Because we all know that when it comes down to writer or director, who’s going to get bounced. (And by the way, how the hell did THAT happen? What, does their Guild have superpowers? No, apprently, just balls …) These are the same problems faced by BOTH the showcase seven figure writers and the working guy. I’ve climbed pretty high up the food chain in five years, and I haven’t noticed any appreciable difference in how I was treated at $40,000 an assignement and up here in the sixes.
And now, one-step deals are going into place all over the city. How much of a dick do I want to be when I can be lifted off a project that I — since I’m not yet a hack — care about deeply? I’ve had producers run me out on my steps because I was a pain in the ass so they could hire a cheaper guy who wouldn’t argue with bad notes. Now they can run you out after ONE.
To me, you can’t solve the problem with simple contractual fix. As long as we’re seen as creatively unequal partners, work-for-hire in character, not only in contract, then we’ll be treated as such. And IMHO, the only thing that’s going to solve that perceptual problem is a big, hard-ass, long strike. Nothing less.
Denise:
The only reason I think the executives might ease up on the near-scale writers is because, quite frankly, it wouldn’t cost them much.
John:
The DGA doesn’t have superpowers. The reason directors aren’t replaced more often during development is because they haven’t yet demonstrated their ability or inability to do their primary job. The reason they’re not replaced more often during production is because shutting production down even for a week costs hundreds of thousands of dollars.
It’s tempting to blame the Guild for problems caused by the circumstances of what we do, but the fact that replacing a writer isn’t expensive will never go away. We could strike for a hundred years…still won’t change that fact.
What will change, however, is the expense of replacing a director. I suspect that will come down the pike sooner or later.
It wouldn’t cost them much now to pay them, and they don’t. They’re not going to ease up unless the Guild gives them some incentive to do so, so you might want to start thinking about whom or what you’ll be willing to throw to the wolves here.
And aren’t you tipping your hand as to why overscale writers—especially those in the middle tier—may in fact be the most vulnerable to “do it or else” pressure…because if they say no, the studio could easily say, “Okay, thanks anyway” and hire a less expensive writer for the next draft? My guess is there are some big guns who fall prey to that fear as well.
At least when I say no, if the studio calls my bluff, they either have to kill the project or shell out MORE money to keep it alive, assuming they want a writer who can keep the project moving forward, and, frankly, given the sort of stuff I do, if a studio wants to keep a project moving forward they’re going to have to hire a writer with credits and a much larger quote to do that. That’s part of the reason I’m not afraid to say no—I know they know they’re already getting a good deal on me, and I know my work is solid. If I’m being asked to work for free, I know it’s probably because they’ve already decided to trade up and all I’d be doing is providing my replacement with an even easier high-six or seven-figure gig. So I just say no, and if the phone doesn’t ring again, I throw my energy into a spec…or play online poker. Much more satisfying than behaving as if I’m easily replaceable when I know full fucking well that I’m not.
In other businesses and in other unions, one way that this is addressed successfully is through training.
A union-sponsored two-day role-playing seminar on negotiations, how to say “no,” how to stay senior, etc. while also creating an informal camaraderie among participants who might then support each other afterwards.
The underlying problem (or one of them) is that writers don’t understand the value of their work and most likely haven’t been taught the tools on how to sell and/or protect it.
my .02
What about all of the aspiring screenwriters who aren’t WGA members? Most would drop dead at the thought of a first sale. That doesn’t give us a very good bargaining position.
What are we supposed to do? We don’t want to kill a sale or piss off the producers or production company.
Just wondered if anyone had any suggestions for the lowly and unsold who are just trying to learn and improve their writing and story telling abilities and knowledge of the business.
Thanks.
Mongoose,
Whether an unpaid, first-time writer should do a producer’s notes before the script goes out to buyers is a whole ‘nother ball of wax, I believe. My impulse is to tell you that you should do whatever it takes to make that first sell… as long as — and this is important — as long as you trust that producer’s taste and think the direction is right for your script.
Everyone Else,
I just don’t see the issue of free rewrites black and white enough to ever legislate against it. For instance, we are working on a Uni project right now with a high-profile producer (whom we respect and like.) Of course, we’re going to get his feedback before we turn the script into the studio… even if it will take another month to implement OUR changes (I say “our” because the notes process is a back and forth session between the producer, my partner and me.) I would definitely be resentful toward the union if this became an offense for which we could be fined.
Similarly, we are producing a project with some less-experienced writers from an original pitch they sold with us attached. It is their story; they nailed the pitch; we were excited to work with them as producers and mentors. They turned in the first draft to us last week and we gave them a couple of weeks worth of notes which we think will take the script a little further before it goes into the studio. Certainly, they could have said, “up yours, producers, we’re not doing any free work.” We would have said, “No problem, we’ll turn it in to the studio…” but I suspect that the script would not have gotten the enthusiastic reception that it will with just these minor tweaks. I feel like we helped them in the same way we would a friend who wanted us to give feedback before turning something into a studio. The only difference is that we are producers on this, so now are we considered to be heinous, free-rewrite producers? I hope not! But if it’s black and white, I could see where we would be, and that blows.
I guess where I’m going is this: I’m not sure that being a strict “I’m-never-getting-feedback-from-a-producer-before-I-turn-in-a-script” kind of writer is in my best interest. We’ve found that the difference in turning in a first-draft that gets the studio excited versus one that they say needs “more development” makes a drastic difference in whether the project will get green-lit, or whether we’ll still be the writers of record if it ever does. And it’s not because they think we’re “difficult,” it’s because we turned in work that was less than it could have been.
Unfortunately, Derek, they always think we’re difficult and they always think we turned in work that was less than it could have been. And the dirty secret with free work is: it doesn’t stop with producers.
I handed in a rewrite of an original script recently. I told the producer I liked the draft and wanted it to go directly to the studio. He agreed to do that (surprise!). So what happens? The VP on the project (also a friend of mine) reads the script but does not give it to her boss (who gave me the notes in the first place). She wants me to come in and talk about “a few tiny things that’ll take me an hour to fix”.
Now her boss KNOWS the script has come in to the studio and he hasn’t been given it. So he KNOWS they want me to do more work. Am I being protected here? Or is his perception already that the script was “less than it could’ve been”.
The culture of free rewrites says to the world: “Writers don’t know what’s good for them, their work can always be improved, and we should ride herd over them all we can.” they always say: “You only get one change to make a first impression with the studio”. Well that’s bullshit. You don’t get that chance at all.
As to the end of my story:
It took three hours to talk about the one hour worth of changes and at the end of it I said: “You understand this work will take me a week”. She said “Of course. But you wouldn’t have come in if I’d have told you that up front”.
I told her her behavior was appalling and I marched out of her office and went home and did the work like the shmuck hypocrite I am.
Same problem up here in Canada, particularly in Quebec. Every producer is going to try to get free work; that’s practically their job, and it’s certainly their nature.
Another issue is that some writers like to get early feedback, others want to perfect their work before handing it in. It’s hard to decide what constitutes a “draft.”
I like the idea of considering a draft a certain amount of work. If I can do something in a day or two, it’s probably not a draft, it’s a polish. Above a week, it’s probably a draft.
Craig,
So, you actually deleted a comment i made on the free-rewrites issue which meant “Never the same in creative control BY contracts.”
Want me out of here? I’ll go (last post, last try, last visit… THIS ONE.), and i’ll simply leave everyone to their biased opinions. But, when freedom of expression returns to this world maybe the wind of silence and indifference (earned) will alter the next wave of censorship abuses.
If all producers could simply offer rewrites by doubling minimum WGA standards to the second or later drafts, then each contracts would be fair to any.
There’s a limit to exploitation and indirect theft by rewriters.
Alex,
What Quebec filming industry? Show me.
Karen,
Miss you, miss them.
Yeah, right… nothing interesting to share - here, too.
Sylvain:
Here’s the problem.
No one knows what “never the same in creative control BY contracts” means.
We don’t know what it means because it defies intelligible syntax.
However, much of the rest of your post was decipherable, so here’s how I going to work this.
If your post contains more than 50% decipherable material, I’ll keep it. If it doesn’t, I’m deleting it. I apologize for the censorship, although I prefer to call it “editorial discretion”. :)
I’m honestly sorry, but it’s getting a bit out of hand.
Derek, well said and right on the money.
Like you and some others here, I am also ready and willing to implement producers’ notes when I believe they will improve the script. I have always done one two- or three-day “producer’s pass” on drafts, and I would even do a series of them if a project would clearly benefit from such a process. I draw the line when I believe that the notes will damage the script or it seems like the producers are just picking away in the dark, unsure what they want and unable to focus.
The point is that, as the writer, I take responsibility for the quality of the script. If I know it’s as good as it can be given the input available, I refuse to do more work and accept whatever consequences result from that decision. But if I get some great input and I believe the draft will be better for it, I need to be able to do that work—and I also accept whatever consequences result from that decision, which I realize could include the possibility that I will still be replaced.
The Guild doesn’t know my project and understand my relationship with the producers like I do, and I don’t want or need it making judgment calls for me. And I certainly don’t want it making judgment calls for me because it believes that, based solely on my income level, I’m incapable of making them for myself.
Josh,
To me there is a huge difference between turning in work to a producer and turning in work to a studio… unless in the rare case that we really admire a particular studio exec’s story sense and WE ask for his/her opinion ahead of time… once a script goes into the studio… then we are billing at the same time.
But of course, I’m a hypocrite as well… because the scenario you described above also happened to my partner and me — a VP wouldn’t give it to the studio head until we made a few (week’s worth) of tweaks. We did the work, but told our agents we won’t work at that studio again. They called last week about a very cool project. We said, “What time is the meeting?”
One more argument in favor of doing free re-writes especially when you’re just starting out:
Good editorial feedback is expensive. By working with a couple producers you get hands-on, in-depth advice from people who are often quite experienced.
It would cost thousands of dollars to pay for that kind of feedback. Moreover, even the high end consultants often lack the experience of low-end producers, and they certainly lack the producer’s intense desire to get the script as good as possible. All this translates to a kind of on-the-job training that you just can’t get anywhere else. Frankly, it’s not unlike an internship for beginning writers.
Along the same lines, a beginning writer should take pretty much any work he’s offered, right? I mention this because I’ve very recently been hired to write a couple of direct-to-video movies, and my feeling is that, at this stage, getting credits is the most important thing I can do. Frankly, I don’t even know if I can consider myself a screenwriter yet, but it’s nice getting paid to write.
Michael:
There’s no one answer to this question. All I can offer you is how I answered it—and continue to answer it—for myself.
Whenever I receive an offer, I make a decision by running through a list of priorities, in this order:
1. My top priority when I consider an offer is whether I actually want the job. Is it a project I’m passionate about? Is it something I will be proud of even if it never gets made? Do I like the producers, and do they seem like people who will be good collaborators and advocates? If the answer to most (ideally, all) of those questions is “yes,” I move on to my next priority:
2. Money. Is this offer worth my while financially? That’s more complicated than simply looking at the amount of money being offered. If it’s a studio job, it’s definitely about raising my quote, and if the offer isn’t higher than my last studio job, I say no—and I’m prepared for the very real possibility that that will be the end of it.
However, not all of my jobs and offers have been from studios. Two of the jobs I’ve done have been passion projects for the director/producers that hired me. Both of them had literally spent YEARS trying to find writers for their projects. Part of the problem for them was finding someone who could handle the material (I specialize in character-driven period pieces); part of the problem was that since neither of them had studio money behind them, they didn’t have a lot of money to offer and so obvious choices like John Logan weren’t options. In fact, neither was even able to meet my very modest quote. Yet, I did the jobs anyway because I absolutely loved the material, and the opportunity to work with the directors from the get-go was too good to pass up (few things are more satisfying to me than developing a script with a director). In addition, while I knew going in that both projects might never get made (regardless of who’s attached, character-driven period pieces are extremely difficult to get produced), both directors were extremely well regarded and both had done many projects that I loved. I would have worked with either man for free, quite honestly, because I figured at the very least, I’d get some amazing education (I did), at the end of the day I would have scripts I was proud of (I did), and if either project got made I would almost certainly vault right onto the A-list (alas, still pending). Finally, regardless of whether the projects get produced, having those guys’ names on my resume can’t hurt, and that leads me to the other factor I consider:
3. Career Status. Will doing this job look like a good move 10 years from now? If the answer to the questions in (1) is mostly positive and my financial considerations are taken care of, then I ask myself whether this job is something I will be proud to have on my resume. I’m not saying for a second that I would only accept a “serious” job (vs., say, a screwball comedy…not that I get offered those, but let’s pretend :))—but if I really like the project but don’t love it and the money is okay but not great, then I try to look at the project in a long-term context. If it seems to me that the script could be a good writing sample even if it never gets made (or I get replaced before it does), I’ll probably do it. If there’s a producer involved that I think could be an asset down the road, I’ll probably do it. If, however, I don’t really see how writing this script could do much for me UNLESS it gets made, I’ll walk away.
It’s no secret from my postings that I don’t make a lot of money. However, I stand by the jobs I’ve taken and the scripts I’ve written—and I have absolutely zero regrets about the offers I’ve declined. Given that I really am not in this to get rich (though I won’t deny for a second that I hope to be financially successful someday—I’m an idealist but not a fool :)), and given that my primary goal is to look back on my writing career and feel proud of the work I did, I’d say so far, so good.
So my advice to you or to any writer is: Decide what your priorities are and act accordingly. This career is just too risky to not be true to yourself.
I think that every writer knows that there are some minor things you can fix. Would anybody — even the most staunch free “no free rewrites once I turn in my draft” peope — say no to a producer if they called you and said, “I love it, but there’s a typo on page 73.”
I don’t think so. I think we’d all fix that damn typo.
And yet isn’t that also doing “free work?”
It is, but I think any reasonable writer would acknlowedge two things about it:
First, it’s work we agree needs to be done, and second, it’s not very much work.
But both of those criterea are subjective.
Sometimes (I know some writers hate to admit this) notes improve a script. And sometimes they’re easy changes to make. And I think, as writers, we do both ourselves and our projects a disservice if we reject notes which help the script.
The typo case is easy, but it illustrates a principle, and it’s hard to draw the line.
“Oh,” you might say, “A typo is a mistake. Of course we can correct a mistake.” But what if the mistake is in our understanding of the producer’s earlier comments? Shouldn’t that also be a correctable mistake? Isn’t it on us to correct the mistake?
It’s very hard to draw a hard and fast line between the two extremes of, “Take your romantic comedy and turn it into a science fiction thriller” (obviously shouldn’t be a free rewrite) and “Correct this typo” (obviously should be done for free.) We may agree on the extremes, but the middle is one very broad gray area.
Lastly, there is the issue of lines of communication. Different people work differently; there are some situations where you’re in almost daily contact with the production executives. Obviously, in those circumstances, when work is constantly being shown back and forth (eg, the way Kubrick often worked with writers) what’s a “draft?”
And if you concede that a draft can be hard to define and can incorporate notes from the producer during the process, well, once again you have yourself a gray area where things can be hard to define. Are comments from the producer only unacceptable if they come late in the process? How do you draw the line between a working collaborative process and a draft + free rewrites?
I think it’s very reasonable that the guild wants to protect writers from being exploited, and to acknowledge that writers working closer to scale are in more danger of being exploited.
But any reasonable discussion of the issue needs to start with an acknowledgement of the gray areas involved, which some of the participants in this conversation seem loathe to do.
Craig, Denise, Lee, Alex, Jacob, Josh (this is starting to feel like an acceptance speech) and everyone else:
Just wanted to holler from this here tree I’ve climbed (all the better to see, when you’re far away) that I appreciate the level of discussion on this site.
This thread, in particular, is most illuminating; the eggshell minefield of free rewrites is a problem, I think, that most prepro writers would love to have, and these comments can only better prepare us for that day.
Or, if nothing else, at least we are warned.
Question for those who have said “no” and care to discuss it:
What happened after that, specifically?
There’s probably not a general answer, but I am curious as to specific experiences…
Did the producer make any attempt to sway you? Charm? Threats? Did your rep receive an irate phone call? Was it a clean break? Did someone leave a sack of poo in your mailbox, plop on top of your last resid check?
Again, thanks to all for providing a smart site to visit.
Well, I’ve been working for most of the day, so I’m thrilled to come back to this fantastic debate.
Boy, you people is smart-like!
Some random thoughts:
Henry is right. Figuring out what is free work and what is free “something short of work” is part of the problem.
In a perfect world where what you did had no impact on the writers who came after you, you’d probably want to make the judgments based on your own set of criteria. However, in the case of an entire free draft, you might want to keep in mind something that Ted has said before: if you are asked for a free draft, you’re not being offered a chance to save your job.
You’ve already been fired.
Think about it. If your choice is work for free or you’re out of a job…well…you’re out of a job. :) Free drafts aren’t ways to save your job. They’re ways of grovelling to get your job back!
This, of course, assumes that you haven’t been paid an enormous sum for the initial drafts. At the risk of having Denise come to my house and stab me to death (which is slight, because even though she knows where I live, she doesn’t like driving on the freeways to get here), there is an understanding that when you’re paid far more than you must be paid, the extra money may or may not included extra work. That extra work can be specifically contracted for or implicitly contracted for.
Personally, I don’t do free drafts. I do free tweaks. I do free scenes even. I’m always good for a joke or an idea or something. I like being a creative partner, and since I am paid over scale, I do not believe I’m undercutting any other writer in the union by providing those additional services as I wish.
In the end, though, my essential criterion is this: am I being asked to provide free work because I’ve been paid a boatload and they just want me to put the cherry on the sundae…or am I beling asked to provide free work because my work is now considered valueless until proven otherwise?
If it’s the former, I generally do it. If it’s the latter, I’m so freakin’ outta there.
Craig wrote:
On this, finally, we agree. I ask trusted friends and my reps for notes, which I implement (as I see fit) before handing anything in to producers. It seems silly in the extreme that the producers who created the project and then fought to get me hired for it should not be extended the same courtesy…I wouldn’t even consider a page-one rewrite for free, but notes and tweaks, especially when they make a script better? Absolutely.
This is where we stop agreeing (though, for the record, because I seem to have become the poster child for scale writers, my quote is over scale, just not obscenely so). If we’re talking about tweaks, and we trust that professional writers at all income levels are capable of differentiating between tweaks that will improve a script and tweaks that will damage a script, I don’t see why the amount of money they’ve been paid should factor into their decision whether to implement them.
Because we’re both replaceable, Craig. If you said “no” at some point during the development on Scary Movie 4, would the producers (let’s forget for the moment that you’re one of them) just let the project die, or would they hire a new writer to pick up where you left off?
I’m not suggesting that the knowledge that you could be replaced intimidates you into doing “free” work, certainly—we have similar critera for deciding whether to do “free” work, as discussed below, and fear doesn’t factor into it for either of us—but the bottom line is that no matter how much you make, if you’re doing work for “free,” you’re taking income away from a writer, whether yourself or a fellow WGA member. And that lost income also means lost WGA dues, possibly lost pension & health contributions, etc. So while your “yes” might not mean you’re doing work for less than scale, it’s having a negative effect on the WGA (and maybe another member) financially as well as psychologically in terms of perpetuating the idea that writers at all levels can reasonably be expected to do work over and above the strict terms of their contracts.
Exactly the same for me, except instead of wondering whether they’re asking me to implement a few notes (again, we’re talking two or three days’ worth of tweaks, NOT anything extensive, never mind a full rewrite) because I’ve been paid a boatload, I ask whether it’s because they believe the work I’ve done is very strong but not quite perfect, and they just want me to put the cherry on the sundae…
With that emendation out of the way, our responses are identical:
As for this:
I’m not given to violence or overt vengeance; Fate has done a pretty good job of taking care of those who cross me. :)
But, God, Mazin, honestly, if you continue to suggest that a subset of writers (in this case, highly paid ones) should be entitled to decide when and whether they will play by the rules, you shouldn’t be in a position to propose or enforce policies for the WGA membership at large.
I understand “gentlemen’s agreements,” and I don’t necessarily object to them. But you and I are both members of a Guild—and in Guild terms, we’re equals. So either we both obey the rules, or we’re both free to judge when we’ll bend them. I don’t care which it is (though I would absolutely prefer the latter), but it’s one or the other. If the proposed “solution” to this problem will only apply to certain members, it’s certain to fail in the long run. The only way full-scale, long-term changes will happen is if everyone in the Guild stands together.
So the first question probably isn’t, “How do we change things?” it’s “Do we really want to change anything—and if we do, how hard are we all willing to work to change it?”
Denise:
So, in all seriousness, if I changed my contracts as I described earlier in this discussion, you wouldn’t have a problem if I then demanded that all writers, including myself, stop doing free rewrites?
My life wouldn’t change, but yours might. Would that still mean I’m discriminating?
C.
I’m not sure how my life would change, given that I currently don’t have any problem with free rewrites and I’ve been specifically advocating that the WGA just stay out of it altogether…
But if the WGA insists on changing something in an attempt to fix this “problem” then, yes, I would be satisfied if all writers were asked to toe the same line and say “no” to free rewrites. If you can maintain your status quo simply by reconfiguring your contracts, more power to you—but at least then the message being sent to the studios is that nobody is going to be doing work without a contract and without being compensated. And don’t you think that they’re going to pay more attention to that message when it comes from guys like you and Ted & Terry rather than when it comes from me? Because I’ve been sending that message for a few years now, and apparently nothing has changed culturally. :)
If it turns out that you end up getting compensated for work you don’t get asked to do, that’s certainly not a problem for me and I doubt it would be a problem for you…so what’s the downside?
Just a note to say that I agree with Denise—if the Guild makes {INSERT CHANGE IN HOW REWRITES ARE HANDLED}, and the only consequence for you is that the wording in your contract changes… Yes, that is still a change. To you, doing one draft for 300K and a second draft for free is the same as doing two drafts for 150K each. To me (and apparently to Denise, and I suspect to many other writers), there is a huge difference.
Look at it this way. Suppose Producer A tells you, “Craig, if ‘MAZIN: THE MOTION PICTURE’ goes to production, I will give you a million dollar bonus.” And suppose Producer B tells you, “Craig, if ‘Oh, Craig! The Musical!’ goes into production, I’ll give you a penny.”
Both movies go into production. Both producers give you a penny. The end financial result for you is the same in both cases. The only difference is that one producer said different words to you at the start of the process. But I’m guessing you’ll still be a lot more pissed off at Producer A than Producer B, because one stuck to his deal with you, and the other didn’t. Agreements and contracts are just words—but those words are pretty damned important.
If you do one draft for 300k and one draft for free, you’re breaking Guild rules. If you do two drafts for 150k, you’re not. The only difference is the words in your contract—but those words are pretty damned important.
Jacob:
Okay, I must admit, this whole “contract rejiggering” concept isn’t really mine. It’s Ron Bass’, and I have my own problems with its logic, but they’re different than yours. :)
In the example you give, I’m mad at Producer A because he just reneged on a verbal contract and ripped me off.
In the example of the rejiggered contracts…I get paid either way.
Contracts aren’t so much about the words as they are about the results. That’s why we have contracts. They exist to ensure resulting states. Two different contracts with the same desirable resulting states…I’m happy.
As my sistah-the-lawyah has patiently explained to me a million times, in order to sue someone, you must be able to show damages.
What that means to me is that, again, the value of the contract is in the result, rather than the words.
Sylvain:
It’s not clear at all what you’re trying to say. In fact, it’s so unclear, I literally can’t even imagine what you’re getting at.
Is that now clearer to you??
Craig:
I think you are having trouble getting your head around the logic in the contract-rejiggering suggestion because you, personally, will not be making more money and you, personally, will not be changing the way you work. So to you, it really does just seem like words.
However, as Jacob has tried to explain, things would actually be different for you and, thanks to your willingness to play along, things will then be very different for writers like me and Jacob. And if the ultimate goal in this situation is to improve the “free rewrite” situation and the solution requires your participation but doesn’t have any negative effect on you or on any other members of the WGA, isn’t that ideal from a Guild standpoint?^
Bottom line, in terms of the long-term change I envision contract-rejiggering to bring about:
Now, low-quote writers are doing work for which they are not compensated and high-quote writers are doing work for which they are not overtly compensated.
After contracts are rejiggered for guys like you and the effects of that ripple down so that all writers are signing similarly structured contracts (though yours will likely be pay-or-play, and mine won’t…but I can live with that if you can), low-quote writers will not be doing work for which they are not compensated, and high-quote writers will not be doing work for which they ARE overtly compensated.
So just remember to insert that “pay-or-play” clause in your deals, and lawsuits shouldn’t be a problem. :)
P.S.: If the contract-rejiggering idea is Ron Bass’s, how come you made me fight so hard to get you to even bring it up?? And Ron’s a lawyer, so he must see some logic in the idea to have even proposed it, no?
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^Unfortunately, I can already see a downside to this, frankly—people now making around $200k for a draft and a set, and who don’t take shit from producers so actually only do a draft and a set for their $200k, will now be expected to sign three-draft deals for the same $200k, because they’d still be getting more than scale for each draft. People making less than about $150k might see a bit of a bump, but I think that while the strict “no free rewrites” issue will be resolved with a change in contract structure, the ugly truth is that writers whose quotes are now in the $200k-$400 quote range will probably see and feel some adverse effects, and fairly quickly. Personally, if I’m right about this, I think that’s reason enough to not do it…I don’t want anybody getting martyred for this because I still maintain it’s only a problem for writers who allow it to be. :)
Actually, Ron’s point is that “free rewrites” is a meaningless phrase for overscale writers.
I’m not sure I agree with him.
Frankly, I don’t think anyone agrees with anyone. :)
Heh.
But actually, you and I agree far more than we disagree. We agree that the status quo is working just fine for both of us and that we are not personally being exploited.
Who are the people who feel they are being abused into doing free work, which I (and you? And Derek, I believe) would define not as a brief courtesy pass that improves a script but either a page-one rewrite or the implementation of changes the writer feels will damage the script? As much as I have enjoyed duking it out with you, I’m frankly still mystified as to what, exactly, the problem is and who honestly feels that “something must be done.”
Though I’m content to continue sparring without that information if necessary. :)
Question for those who have said ?no? and care to discuss it:
What happened after that, specifically?
There?s probably not a general answer, but I am curious as to specific experiences?
Did the producer make any attempt to sway you? Charm? Threats? Did your rep receive an irate phone call? Was it a clean break? Did someone leave a sack of poo in your mailbox, plop on top of your last resid check?
Dang… from the deafening silence, I draw one of three conclusions:
1. My question was just downright offensive.
2. No one feels comfortable talking about the personal repercussions suffered, in a public forum.
3. No one here has ever actually said “no.”
I can share a very scaled-down version, from my end:
I was hired to adapt a friend’s very rough short film script into an indie feature script.
I set up steps similar to WGA MBA steps: percentage on commencement, percentage on first draft in, percentage on second draft commencement, etc.
Got the commencement cash, turned in the first draft, never saw the next step. When I was asked to go ahead and do the second draft, with the promise that I would see the rest of the cash, soon thereafter, I thought about how my first paying gig, as far off the radar as it was, would be a lousy way to start off, if I let these producers walk on me.
I declined. Never saw the next bump.
But, that was okay. I felt good about the decision, even if the only person it really impacted was myself, and I was still eligible to enter my first original work in the Nicholl, a couple of years later, so it all worked out, in the end, I reckon.
(Figure if I’m going to ask someone to show me theirs, I should be willing to show mine.)
Anyways, if my question was seen as inappropriate, my apologies.
We now return to Craig and Denise’s argument. :)
Ronson:
No, that’s a perfectly reasonable question. I’ve said “no” a couple of times, usually through my representation, so I honestly don’t know what the immediate response was.
In those instances, I was paid to do additional work.
Ronson:
On one gig where I said no, I wasn’t paid to do any additional work—and neither was anybody else. As far as I know, the project died then and there.
On another gig where I said no, my draft was sent to several name actresses and directors. At least two actresses expressed interest, and a director was hired. But despite the fact that my draft had successfully gotten the project to the next level by attracting talent, the next (optional) step in my contract wasn’t exercised. Last I heard, the studio was deciding between two well-established writers to take over.
But there was no drama either time. I said “no,” and that was that. And I have no regrets. The first project obviously wasn’t a very high priority, or somebody would have been paid to do more work. On the second, despite the fact that the producers had wanted me to do more work, the studio thought the draft was good enough to send to talent—and it got talent interested in the project. So I was right to defend the draft, and I had done my job successfully in terms of keeping the project alive and moving closer to production. So…was I not called back because I had put my foot down, or did the studio decide that now that they had a name director attached and name actresses interested, they needed a name writer to complete the picture? No idea (though I assume the latter, because that is in line with how studios often think). Whatever the reason, I stand by my “no,” and I doubt things would have turned out differently for me had I said “yes.” And since I went into the project knowing I would only be guaranteed two drafts, it’s not like the studio did anything unethical or illegal…or surprising. :)
It’s not quite the same as a “no” but after a production company (with financing) fired the producers who originally brought my spec script to them I threw some support in behind the producers. Since then the prodco hasn’t called and, from what I’ve heard, has someone else making more changes to the script.
On the one hand, I’m sort of relieved because I’ve already done everything my contract required and I didn’t like the changes the big boss was talking about anyway. But on the other hand, I’m a tad annoyed that they got people re-writing my screenplay while it’s still on option. You’d think they’d have the courtesy to at least purchase the thing if they were going to do that.
Steven: I’m puzzled. How can they rewrite a script without buying it?
Ronson: I can’t answer your question because I haven’t been asked to do free rewrites. When I was working for a TV show, I was hired on a weekly basis, and all work I did within that week was covered by my contract. In my very limited life as a screenwriter, I haven’t been asked to do free rewrites on the one script deal I have.
There was one case where I had two young producers interested in one of my scripts. They had suggestions for improving it, and I agreed that their suggestions would make it better. I revised the script for free—but of course, I was doing it for myself, not for them, since they never bought the script. I’m very happy to work for myself for free.
So I guess I also can’t answer Denise’s question of who these people are who feel that they are being abused by free rewrites. Of course, we’re not exactly a random sampling here; we’re a small group of people who are (a) obsessed enough with their rights and (b) combative enough to engage in this long debate here on Craig’s page. Maybe it’s not a surprise that there are few free rewriters among us.
The Guild did a survey of its members recently. Craig, did it ask if people had been pressured into doing free rewrites? If so, do you know what the percentage was that had said yes?
I take it they just have someone doing a rewrite figuring that they’ll activate the option if they go into production, and delete the rewrite if they don’t activate the option. Seems a little dicey from a copyright standpoint but I haven’t talked to my lawyer about this yet.
Yeah, this sort of thing happens. People option their work, and part of the option is a license that allows the company to prepare derivative works.
In this case, a rewrite is the derivative work.
As for the survey, I don’t believe we’ve gotten the numbers in yet, but I do believe there were some questions regarding free rewrites. We’ll get those answers back soon, and hopefully I can at least make some of it public.
Just read this thread. Bunch of thoughts.
1) Ron Bass is so obviously wrong that I can’t believe anybody’s even discussing this. If you take a gig which should take you four months, and you end up spending six months on it because you’re stuck in uncontracted rewrites you don’t want to do, you’ve given away two months of potential income. That’s true whether you make 150k a script or 1.5M a script.
2) Ronson, I’ve been pushed off a project because I refused to do a free draft requested by a STUDIO — a clear breach of the MBA, but for all the obvious reasons I didn’t pursue it with the Guild. Certainly I’ve seen writers draw the line on producer-requested rewrites, and then the producers didn’t support the draft or writer with the studio, to the writer’s detriment. We’re kidding ourselves if we believe it doesn’t happen.
3) I don’t buy the Ted Elliott position that “you’ve already been fired” — it’s far too simplistic.
Yes, that was exactly the case in the situation I described above, where I refused to do the extra step for the studio. And for that reason, my agent and even the producer didn’t pressure me to do the free work. But I don’t think Ted’s formula applies to most “producer demands free rewrite” situations.
Put yourself in the producer’s position. You have a project with a studio; you’re not making much money on it unless it gets made. The writer does a draft, and in your honest professional opinion, it isn’t good enough; if you deliver it to the studio as is, the project may die, or you may have to convince the studio to pony up another several hundred thousand dollars to keep it alive with another writer. What do you do? You give the writer your thoughts and hope that the writer is willing to put a little time and sweat into it, before officially delivering the step. The writer here has not “already been fired,” and in fact, a case can be made that the producer is doing what he can to help the writer keep his job.
(To be clear, I’m not defending or condemning this common practice. As the writer in those situations, I always go by the rule that if I believe the notes will help the script, I’ll attempt them, and if not, I won’t.)
4) I used to stand pretty much where Denise does, until I was asked by a studio to do a free step. That signalled to me that the culture had deteriorated to a point where so much free work was expected that even a major studio felt comfortable openly flouting the rules.
Now I do think something ought to be done, but it’s far from clear what that something is. As this debate has suggested, there are just too many idiosyncratic ways of working, and there are too many variables and gray areas to lay down a firm and clear set of enforceable rules which will make everyone happy.
But the wisest new area above, I thought, was suggested by Karen Baird-Eaton, who suggested some sort of two-day negotiation seminar. That might be a little much and prohibitively difficult to get writers to actually attend, but it raises an interesting prospect, an emphasis on education rather than enforcement.
Let me throw something out here which won’t be universally popular, but might in the end be quite useful.
In light of our legal setback regarding free producer rewrites, might the Guild not now acknowledge that these rewrites are a fact of life? If we do that, then maybe instead of hiding the whole practice under the table, we can begin officially talking about it and offering official guidelines about acceptable standards for producer behavior and writer behavior.
I have in mind the excellent recent publication about how to handle yourself in series television, what’s expected of a writer from freelancer through showrunner. It was a fabulous document, clear and well thought out, and speaking in the language of how things actually work, rather than how they ideally or legally ought to work. Along the way it was subtly critical of common abusive showrunner practices, e.g. credit hogging.
Maybe the Guild ought to put together a similar handbook for the feature writer: what’s expected when you’re asked to pitch, what’s expected when you turn in a draft, what’s expected when you hear from the producer, and so on.
Because the truth is, most of us work — or try to work — in roughly the same way. I think Denise and Craig and I all go about our business similarly, would likely take all the same notes and refuse all the same notes. I think the people who refuse to do anything requested by a producer, ever, are outliers; so are writers who accede to everything a producer demands.
Such a guidebook should be circulated not only among writers but producers and studio execs and agents as well. It could give writers a better idea of where to draw lines, and producers and execs a better idea of what is “acceptable” to ask, and when — in Guild language — a writer is behaving reasonably by saying No.
Information and education could give courage to writers and agents, and could even inhibit producers and execs from the worst abuses, as there would be able to point to a tangible document.
A quick note to say thank you to all you folks who shared in greater detail your “no” experiences… I was concerned that free rewrites were so rampant, as to pit every writer against each other… I had this image of thousands of furtive glances over shoulders, as every single writer in the Guild undercuts everyone else.
I think y’all’s generosity in this forum is encouraging.