The Enemy Is Not The Enemy
Let me describe an executive I know. He’s an arrogant prick who treats writers like crap. It’s obvious that he doesn’t actually read the scripts he gets, because he gives notes telling writers to “add things” they’ve already written. His notes are almost always simplistic and designed to dumb the screenplay down. What’s worse, he doesn’t seem to grasp the fact that his “easy” note will, in fact, unravel the entire story. Beyond that, he fires writers for no good reason. He’s a jerk, he’s a Philistine, he’s a moron with no story sense, he’s shortsighted, he’s shallow, he’s the enemy.
Oh, and one other thing.
He doesn’t exist.
He’s a cliche. A composite I’ve created from my own experiences and the tales told to me by my fellow writers.
Like many cliches, there’s more than a grain of truth in there. We’ve all dealt with people who were at least somewhat like the nightmare I just described. The problem is that we tend to do a horrible job of understanding these people, and because of that, we make our own lives harder than they need to be.
First off, you might wonder why we need to understand jackasses. Isn’t it enough to know that they’re jackasses?
No. It’s not.
Here are the truths I bring with me when I enter the bad exec’s office. It is true that I am better at storytelling than he is. It is true that I am funnier. It is true that I understand the ramifications of what he says, and he typically does not. It is true that if I do exactly what he wants me to do, I will probably ruin the story. It is true that he will probably treat me in a way that I wouldn’t treat a friend.
It is also true that without him, I will not achieve my goal. Hey, I’m a professional screenwriter, not a professional scriptwriter. If it doesn’t get up on the screen, I’ve blown it.
As such, I’ve taken it upon myself to put my “bad exec” frustration aside, ignore my cognitive dissonance and shove my fear off somewhere back behind my amygdala. Instead, I crawl inside my enemy’s skin. Figure out what really makes him tick. And then use that to solve our mutual problem.
Let me now share with you some of what I’ve learned about our cliched enemy. He is frightened. His job is always in jeopardy. He is very aware that you’re better at this story thing than he is, and he is very aware that you know it. He is in perhaps the most horrendous management situation there is; he’s responsible for something over which he has very limited control. He can’t tell you what to write because he doesn’t know what that should be. He can only do two things particularly well: react like an audience member to what he doesn’t like, and impose his fear on you.
When you’re done, what you write will in no small part determine his fate. He knows that “no one knows anything”, and yet he’s being paid to know something, so goddammit, he’s going to talk like he’s sure of himself. You are his only hope, and he needs you to be brilliant instead of what you (and everyone else) often are, which is mediocre. The last thing in the world he wants is for you to “just do the notes”. He’s not sure about his notes either. He wants you to tell him what’s wrong with the script. He wants you to show him the third path. He wants you to make him feel that he’s in good hands, that it’s going to be okay, that someone in this stupid batshit town actually knows what he’s doing, and by God…this one should be a movie.
Mind you, there isn’t a chance in hell that the bad exec ever bothers to identify with us. Doesn’t matter. What good is your righteous indignation at being the only one in the partnership with empathy and wisdom? If you know the key to the relationship…and simply put, it’s that the balance of power between the two of you is really a balance!…then you will be far better equipped to hear his signal and ignore his noise.
Of course, this cliche really is a cliche. I’ve never met an executive who was this bad, and in fact, I’ve been quite pleased over the years with the majority of execs I’ve worked with. A lot of them do have good story sense and do treat me extremely well and aren’t driven by fear. Not surprisingly, those types are rather successful. I choose to believe that it’s their good qualities that cause the success, and not the security of success that makes them suddenly smart and enjoyable. I’ve tried to keep those people close to me even when I’m not working for them…because I’d like to work for them later.
They make me a better writer.
Still, it’s a fair chance that there’s a bad exec waiting around the corner of your career, no matter who you are or what you’ve done. When you meet them, remember…they’re not the enemy. They’re just your frightened, poorly-equipped partner. Don’t waste time fighting them or hating them. That will only make it worse.
How about showing them a little love instead?
And if they’re truly unlovable…
…fake it.

Very insightful stuff, Craig. As a former exec, I recognize many of the articulated characteristics in my (former) self - albiet (and in my own defense) not to the negative extremes you sometimes noted. There’s nothing in here I’d disagree with, or claim inaccurate. You must have hidden in a few closets to delve this deeply into the secret lives of executives (there’s a movie title/idea for you).
It’s easy to forget that we need to empathize with real characters and not just the ones on the page. “Negotiating to Yes” should be added to the list of mandatory books screenwriters should read.
Nice use of “amygdala”. Nice post, too. If my trackbacks worked correctly, you’d see that I tracked back.
Dan:
After the 100th depressing meeting, you start to do the psychoanalysis just to keep from hurtling yourself out the window. :)
Jon:
No, no trackback yet. Use the URL listed under “trackback pings” between the body of the article and the comments section.
Bravo.
I’ve toe-dipped as an Exec Producer in Television very early (and unexpectedly) due to a legendary 68-years in the business type guy.
Anyway, for all the doors he opened I did not run across anyone who was the asshole I was prepared to meet.
Challenging: Sure, like the tough gradeschool taskmaster that kids griped about yet walk away having learned the most - even stuff outside the syllibus. But assholes? No.
Same goes for that myth about the used-car salesman let-me-put-you-in-pictures type Cocktail Producer.
Didn’t see one.
I guess that truth doesn’t travel well and the other gets the seminar booked for Mr. McKee.
Thanks for sharing your knowledge with us.
I come to this blog from the related but distinctly different field of writing novels — three published so far. Two of these were bought by Hollywood (an unpublished long story was optioned as well) but no film has yet actually been made.
Hollywood execs versus NYC editors at big houses. I’ve certainly been lied to, there’s no ambiguity about that. Have the editors seemed like assholes? No.
But other than in the U.K. (where my books have done very well) I have been “orphaned” here in the U.S. every time. The problem then becomes that if my book does well this success will not especially help the babysitting editor’s career, since he or she is not the one who made the acquisition.
Todd:
Welcome to our home!