Q1: What Makes A Twist A Twist?
Q2: What's The Deal With "Leave Behinds"?
Q3: What Do You Do When You Get Bored Writing Your Script?
AnswerPalooza!A1: It’s All About Context
A reader wrote in asking about what makes a good twist good. He had an interesting head-start on the answer. It’s not enough to have a surprising ending; the surprising ending must also be logical.
I’d probably explain it more in terms of context. A good twist isn’t just a surprise; it’s a surprise that instantly recontextualizes the entire story.
The fact that Bruce Willis has been dead for the majority of The Sixth Sense recontextualizes every scene the audience has experienced, and it does so after the fact of the experience, which makes twist endings so fascinating. The audience is forced to re-evaluate the very story they thought they understood.
This is why good twist endings typically spawn excellent post-film discussion as well as repeat viewings. Some twist endings are so radical, they can literally warp one’s appreciation of the film itself. I hated Fight Club the first time I saw it because I simply couldn’t recontextualize the film fully after learning the twist. When I saw it the second time and was able to watch the film in forward fashion with the proper context, I absolutely loved it.
While comedies rarely have twists of this nature, I sometimes write jokes that require recontextualization. For instance, in Scary Movie 3, Cindy finds George passed out on a table. He comes to, rubbing his head, and when she asks him what happened, he says, “I don’t know. Cody and I were playing a game, and…” Then he looks down, sees five dice all on the number six, yells “Yahtzee!”, stands up in excitement, and smashes his head into a shelf. He’s knocked himself out.
Again.
Once that happens, you get to recontextualize the entire prior 20 seconds of film. I’ve watched that joke play in front of about ten audiences. There’s always a slight delay in the laugh. There’s a small laugh when he hits his head (surprise), then a second big laugh when they realize what this means (recontextualization).
A2: Leave Behinds Are Not A Good Idea
When some writers go off to pitch movies, they “leave behind” a document that outlines the story they’ve just pitched (or some version thereof).
I’m not a fan of this idea. My feeling is that professional writers must get paid for their ideas in fixed form, and that means no leave behinds. Furthermore, when you leave something behind, you’ve given the executive a piece of evidence that can be dissected and rejected concretely by their higher-ups. If the exec really likes the pitch, they have to then relay it to the boss. If the boss says, “I dunno…”, the exec will always say, “I’m not pitching it as well as they did. It’s great.”
A leave behind is proof of you, and if you wanted to make the sale based on written proof, well…you’d be writing a spec instead of pitching, right?
Don’t leave nuthin’ behind.
A3: I Start Wondering What’s Wrong With My Script
First of all, let me get this whole “screenwriting is a marathon” notion out of the way.
No, it’s not.
At all.
And if it feels like one, one of the following is true. Either there’s a major problem with your script, or you’re not cut out for writing screenplays.
When I get fidgety or antsy or bored or tired when writing my screenplay, it’s usually a sign that I’ve hit some dry, dysfunctional or cliched section of my story. If it’s not fun and exciting to write, then it won’t be fun and exciting to watch. I return to my treatment or outline, and I think about what’s gone wrong.
If you repeatedly find yourself dreading the work, if you keep praying to find yourself at the end of the process, if you view the second act as some sort of Bataan Death March, then it’s time to hang it up. Screenwriting is hard enough to do when you want to do it. If you’re dealing with a lack of will at the same time, what’s the point of torturing yourself?
I recently found myself frustrated with the screenplay I’m writing because I was beating myself up over the ending. I was trying too hard to be overly clever, when in the end I realized that my story was strong enough that I didn’t need some Sixth Sense type of twist. Once I realized that, everything came to me a lot smoother and I was able to regain confidence in my writing. I used to beat myself up as far as writing and I found myself getting stuck, but then I just started getting it all out and I realized that that’s what first drafts are for. I’m much more happier when I write now, and I waste a lot less time as well.
When I pitch ideas to execs, the very first thing they ask for IS a “leave behind.” What am I supposed to say? “No, you can’t have that.” I picture a Larry David type argument ensuing with the exec tossing my number out of his rolodex as soon as I leave the office. Even if you don’t have a hardcopy with you, they expect an email by end of day.
What’s your thoughts on the twist for twist’s sake? What I hear a lot of now is asking for the twist (i.e. I liked it, it was good but there was no twist at the end) - not every thriller or horror script needs a twist, does it?
Two ways out of a leave behind.
Don’t have one. Know your story inside and out. Don’t rely on notes and outlines. Walk in empty-handed and there’s nothing to leave behind.
If that’s too much like tightrope walking without a net, then explain to the exec that all you have with you is your own personal notes that are a mess and will make sense to nobody but yourself.
It helps if this is true. They’re not going to get much value out of a Post-It note scribbled with:
Whether it’s true or not, it’s usually a good non-confrontational way out of leaving something.
craig
i had same experience with fight club. hated first viewing, liked (not loved) second time around.
i would add that the twist must also be compelling, not just recontextualize the story. the sixth sense example is a fine one. it’s absolute believable and realistic, and compelling - for the character in question. it has something of a ‘jaw-drop’ quality
just saw intolerable cruelty last night (the new coen collection - in cold blood, the man who wasn’t there, something else i can’t remember, and ic is a good buy for $30). anyway, in the end of ic there are some twists (really they are reversals or reveals but above comment applies). these have to do with a prenuptial agreement and the two main characters changing attitudes toward it. while the twist/reversal works on one level, it’s not compelling. it seems tacked-on. it’s too clever by half - not realistic
these devices (twists, reversals, etc) must seem plausable (within the world of the story) and also be compelling. the reversal in ic is a bit silly - off putting, but does recontextualize the characters. the twist/reveal in sixth sense is one of the most compelling and memorable from recent movies, and it completely alters the perception of this story and character
Hello. Sorry, I’m relatively new to this site and I probably need to post this under the correlating story but… I noticed the KISS KISS BANG BANG poster and noticed that Shane Black has two sole credits for “Screen Story” and “Screenplay” as opposed to simply a “Written By.” I’m curious what warrents the two separate sole credits here. I imagine that’s pretty rare.
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang is sort of half based on a novel, so it’s not entirely Shane’s original story. But he switched it around enough to merit a “screen story” credit for himself as well as the actual screenplay credit. So it’s not “written by” since it’s not ALL his original work.
Not every thriller needs a twist, for two reasons. A) If every story has a twist, there wouldn’t be much surprise value left in them. “Oh, here comes the twist…” B) How many films do you think M. Night Shamalayan gets to pitch these days in which there’s no twist? Probably none.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good and all, kid, but where’s the twist?”
“Um, there is none.”
“Whadyamean there is none? The things just ENDS?”
“… um, okay, no… What I mean is… there is no PROTAGONIST, see, because he’s actually a hologram…”
Leave behinds - I haven’t got my pitching skills in order yet and feel that my 1-pagers portray my projects far better than I can in person… Craig, you have the advantage that you are a skilled salesman; many screenwriters are not.
3 Q’s in one:
A popular screenwriter, oh let’s say…Greg Fazin, shows up at a studio demanding to see the President of the studio with his manager Barney Brallstein. At first they were going to turn him away but then the Studio Prez’s assistant turns to him and whispers, “That’s the guy who made Simon Rex funny…”.
They immediately let them in.
Greg delivers this wild pitch about a screenwriter in danger. The pitch is good, really good in fact. It’s obvious that the Prez is impressed. “Sounds interesting.”
“Uh…I have a Leave Behind for you.”, says Fazin. He takes out a piece of paper and moves to give it to the Prez. Just then, Barney intercedes and snatches the paper away before the Prez gets a chance to look at it.
“We don’t DO leave behinds!”, screeches Barney and throws the paper in the garbage. He then grabs Greg and ushers him out the door.
“What was that about?”, asks the Prez. “Oh well, I’m off to lunch. It is 1pm, after all.” The Prez walks out of his office and leaves the assistant in the room alone. Hmmmm. The assistant can’t help himself and starts to rummage through the garbage can. ‘Greg never leaves a leave behind’, he thinks. He finds the paper and opens it up. It reads:
HELP—MY MANAGER IS TRYING TO KILL ME.
Did you see that twist coming? Who knows? I’d write more but I’m bored with this. Better refer back to my outline…:)
Knowing the recontextualization beforehand, ruins the whole story, it takes the punch out, kills the ?pie talk? totally as you knew it was coming. It?s like watching the Chicago Cubs win the World Series in real-time, or on tape. One has an edge, drama and near heart-attacks, the other is just highlighted repeats. Sixth Sense and Fight Club are not good for repeat viewings, as are most things with an O?Henryish twist. And audiences are getting hip to the twists, you can spot them before they even start. I mean ‘Secret Window’ and ‘Hide and Seek’, I saw that coming not even 20 mins in, and it ruins it. I don’t want to know the ending before I start. Who reads the last page of a book?
A better twist is something that changes the logical outcome, but doesn’t totally recontextualize the entire movie, aka ?The Skeleton Key? a quick-spin near the end, that still holds up as a repeatable story. And I rather have my twists spread all over…twist, backend, bring back around, backstory twist, and twist again and again and then retwist (don’t confuse us too much tho). And why not twist the big twist too? Make it SEEM like a ‘Sixth Sense’ setup, but then spin the twist itself. This ‘big ending one’ is getting trite. A time and place sure, but it’s already Hollywood cliche.
Sigh. 2005 and Blogs still can’t do straight smart quotes.
Sure they can. Regular quotes automatically become smart quotes. Look at the rest of your post.
CHRISTOPHER:
It seems as is you view “Twist Endings” as gimmicky. Perhaps that is because the term “Twist Ending” has been misused or overused. A twist ending is just that. An ending.
Your analogy of the World Series suggests that one cannot enjoy a movie if they already know the outcome due to a previous screening. If movies were meant to be enjoyed once, I don’t think I would make them.
When I watch Scarface, I know that Al Pacino is gonna do down in a hail of Cuban bullets but it’s still incredibly enjoyable.
My point? “Big Endings” aren’t trite. Bad Endings are. But if you’re trying to make a movie with a “Twist Ending” and you don’t recontextualize the story, well that’s just lazy, ill-conceived, and not very creative. When I wrote to Craig about Twist Endings, I used the films, The Sixth Sense and High Tension as the right way to do it and the wrong way to do it. I hate to do this to you all but I will post it for you guys to see what I mean..
I am a Director/Writer/Producer and I have the opportunity to direct another film which I wrote that has a twist ending at the very end. The film is based on a true story and although the script has been around for over five years with many different incarnations, the ending has always remained the same. If executed correctly, the audience should experience what I like to call the “OH SHIT!” factor. When I saw the Usual Suspects and Kevin Spacey straightened out his gimpy leg and swaggered down the street, the entire audience screamed, “OH SHIT!”. Now that’s a twist ending. So with the OS Factor in mind I set out to direct the film.
The first thing I had to do was (obviously) define what a “twist ending” meant to me. I defined it as this:
TWIST ENDING: an unexpected and sometimes shocking conclusion to a literary or theatrical work.
Pretty simple, right? Maybe not. I say this not because I’m being cute or anything but more to the effect that I actually left out a very important word between “shocking” and “conclusion”. Something so important that a lot of filmmakers more than not, actually ignore this little seven letter word. My definition should have read like this:
TWIST ENDING: an unexpected and sometimes shocking logical conclusion to a literary or theatrical work.
That word is what separates the Good from the Bad. In order to illustrate this point, I recently watched two very different films with two very different twists that garnered two very different results. The first was The Sixth Sense. The second, High Tension.
*My comparisons will contain certain plot spoilers.
The Sixth Sense
Plot: A little boy sees dead people.
I went into this movie expecting absolutely nothing. We’re talking 1999 here and Bruce Willis was dead to me. Sure, Armaggedon had come out but that movie’s success had little or nothing to do with Mr. Die Hard. Swap out Mr. Die Hard for Dennis Quaid and you basically got the same movie with different smirks. Anyway, I sat in that theatre literally glued to the screen. Seems like Mr. Die Hard learned an acting technique called Subtlety and let the other star of the movie, Haley Joel Osment, shine. The first 103 minutes were fantastic. And then the last 4 minutes come up on screen. Mr. Die Hard’s wife is watching home movies of their wedding. Mr. Die Hard watches on. And then it hits him. Mr. Die Hard is dead. OH SHIT! Factor of 10. The audience was floored. And then the director went one step further (I won’t mention his name because he’s gotten progessively worse to the point that his films are downright laughable). The audience gets to look back at all of Mr. Die Hard’s interactions with people and we see that he hasn’t been interacting with anyone! He was just another ghost that didn’t know he was dead. In a word…brilliant. In two words…fucking fantastic.
The Sixth Sense worked on so many levels but the main reason was that it was so logical. Of course Mr. Die Hard was dead. He got shot in the stomach. He wore the same thing every day. And the kid actually told him he was dead halfway through the movie! Now that’s how you do a twist ending.
And then I rented…
High Tension or (Haute Tension) for all you French out there
Plot: A serial killer knocks on a family’s door. All hell breaks loose.
First off, let me just say that I did not know a thing about this movie. I wasn’t even aware that there was a twist ending. And thank god for that because if someone tells me that a movie has a twist ending, that’s all I can think about. I’ll start suspecting everyone and everything and then I’m just completely out of the picture. So I went into this cold.
Basically, a really Hot French Chick is visiting her friend, another Hot French Chick, and her family in the country. Oh wait, I completely forgot. The movie opens with the killer getting a blow job from a severed head. Uh-huh. So anyway, while the main Hot French Chick is in bed masturbating (I’m serious), the killer comes knocking on the door in the middle of the night and first kills the Hot French Chick friend’s father. He lets out a blood curdling scream, so loud in fact that nobody in the house wakes up. Hmmm. Let’s just fast forward to the part where the killer kidnaps Hot French Chick’s friend and the main Hot French Chick stows away in his grimy old van. They stop at a gas station (if you’re gonna murder an entire family you might wanna get gas first) and Hot French Chick sneaks out of the back of the van and into the gas attendants store. Instead of telling him what’s going on and to call the police, she instead hides behind a rack of Twinkies or at least its French equivalent. Of course the killer kills the gas attendant guy and drives off with his kidnap victim. And just when you think it couldn’t get any better, Hot French Chick steals the gas attendants Firebird, his .44 Magnum gun, and follows the killer.
Let me just take a moment…
Okay. CUT TO:
The killer sees the Hot French Chick and runs her off the road. They fight, she wins, he dies. Great. So then she goes to untie her friend but a strange thing happens. Hot French Chick’s friend is acting angry and scared. Why, you ask? Because 10 seconds before Hot French Chick goes to untie her friend, the police are at the gas station checking out the security tape and sees Hot French Chick kill the gas attendant! You see, Hot French Chick and The Killer are the same person. I could not fucking believe it. I’ll spare you the exciting conclusion to the film but I will say that it involves a circular chain saw, a crowbar, and blood.
How in the world did that make any sense?
Most of the time these two charcters, Hot French Chick and the killer, were doing completely different things in completely different places. When listening to the Audio Commentary of the film, the director explains it like this: She’s crazy. She’s crazy and most of what was in her mind was a fabrication. Really?
How in the world did that make any sense?
Not to mention the blow job in the beginning of the film. Not to mention that she couldn’t physically do most of what was in the film (are we supposed to believe that this Hot French Chick could knock a man’s head clean off—literally). Not to mention that she stole a car and I guess…I don’t know, chased herself? Basically, it doesn’t make any sense. The ending was lazy, absurd, and most of all, not very logical.
A Twist Ending has to stand up to closer inspection. You can not throw in an unexpected conclusion to a film and leave things totally unexplained. It’s the attention to detail that makes a twist ending pay off so well.
I don’t know if my film will get the OH SHIT Factor that I’m going for. I don’t know if it will even find the audience it’s looking for. I do know, however, what not to do and hope that I retain some sort of common sense and come through with a sophisticated and entertaining ending.
By the way, I heard they’re doing a High Tension 2.
Many of you will find this to be a really negative post, and I know I’m in the minority when I say this because almost ALL WRITERS never leave leave-behinds (I worked at a studio for two years, I know), BUT…
Not leaving them is more or less just a paranoid writer-ism.
If you leave nothing behind to avoid giving the VP and Pres. something they can dissect and say no to, then it’s just as likely that the leave-behind would HELP you if the VP can’t recap your pitch well enough. Especially if the Pres. isn’t inclined to bring you back in in the first place—a leave-behind can save you for the same reason, and with the same likelihood, as it can kill you.
Plus you don’t piss off the studio exec. who asks for it, as the above poster mentioned.
I think this question stems from writers’ general sense of contempt for studio execs, and that they’re all idiots with no imagination. The truth is, writers turn in idiotic work just as often as studio execs give idiotic notes. The difference is, studio execs don’t complain in public about it nearly as much.
The truth is, you’re either going to sell your pitch or you’re not, and the difference won’t have anything to do with whether you leave a treatment or outline behind. The difference is going to be the quality of your idea—that’s a hard pill to swallow for a lot of writers, so, as writers are wont to do, they invent other reasons for why they don’t sell their stuff.
“Dammit, I would have sold that pitch if I hadn’t left a leave-behind!”
C’mon.
Okay, let the scalding recriminations begin…
Ben LA
One of my film school professors, who co-wrote this little script about two guys who exchange faces, told me to mark up my pretty synopsis with with all kinds of messy highlights and pencil notes. Then just say, no I couldn’t possibly leave this nasty thing behind on account of my impeccable work ethic. What I’d really like is an invite back, preferably over sushi. Though it works on the other front, I always felt it was really a tip about scoring the free fish. JGTH, “Things They Won’t Tell You In Film School”
I hate people who write about writing. Especially newbies, brothers of producers, and other tourists.
About the “no leave behinds” thing… I’m on the horns of a dilemna… I’ve been asked for a treatment by a director/producer team based in LA. I don’t live there (yet). They need to sell my (or any other writer’s story) to their foreign investors. I’m thinking that this might be the exception to the “never give them a written treatment” thing.
Do you agree? If not, why not? Thanks!
Btw, this would be my first script sold, if that makes any difference in this equation.
Writergurl —
A treatment is something you get paid for. Here’s two ways to do it:
They contract you to write a treatment at no less than Guild minimum.
You write the treatment on spec, and they option it from you for eighteen months for 10% of Guild minimum.
Thing to keep in mind: a treatment of a story for use in a movie is nearly as valuable to producers as a screenplay (which is a treatment of a story for use in a movie realized as a dramatization).
-
Well, you can ‘enjoy’ it sure, but dramatic twists that recontext the story, just don’t have the same impact after the first run. And I still think it’s gimmicky, many a bad story can linger on but for a twist. I can nearly instantly tell when I am being setup for a big “occurance at Owl Creek Bridge”. But Kelly’s ‘Donnie Darko’ twists worked as it was a 52-card-shuffle, you think you know, but you aren’t quite sure, so you go back and back, studying the details. And even if you know, it’s still open to perceptional interpretation, and then comes the Directors Cut. Now that’s eternal pie talk. And it beats the now-tired ‘Sixth Sense’ hook hands down.
PS - Well it’s nice that inch-marks can become quotes, but ALT codes themselves become question-mark litter, that being my point. To get smart quotes, you don’t do smart quotes. Backwards, eh? ;)
Thanks for the reply, Ted!
A professor friend of mine laid out what I think is a good rule for a twist (especially a twist ending): if you give it away to someone before they’ve seen it, the movie shouldn’t be “ruined”, the movie should still be good, interesting, compelling - hopefully better.
I am not a huge fan of “The Sixth Sense,” but the twist is great, and the movie is far more interesting, I think, when you watch it the second (or third, or whatever time). I think “The Usual Suspects” twist, on the other hand, is bunk. It is there to make an otherwise pedestrian story interesting. Watching it a second time, the only interesting thing the twist adds is knowledge of how the filmakers “tricked” us the first time. Knowing who Keiser Soze (or however you spell his name) is doesn’t make the movie more compelling, or intersting, or fun.
Look at another of M. Night’s movies with a twist: “Signs.” For all its many flaws, this film has some interesting ideas and characters. But the twist (and all the build up to it and the “theme” surrounding it) really, in my opinion, detracts from the rest of the narrative. It makes it uncompelling. An even worse example of a bad twist is that in “Identity.” Before the twist, that film is pretty interesting and fun, as far as thrillers go. But the twist is so stupid, it essentially shuts down the movie. On many levels, all of the narrative drive the film had is stopped short and the movie no longer is compelling, but is instead boring.
On last thing about the “two people are really the same person” twist that has been cropping up in a lot of movies lately. In “Fight Club” the twist works, I think, both because it is “believable” but also because it is interesting (thematically, naratively, etc.) and adds complexity to the story and the characters. And, it is revealed in the movie at suitable time that makes the film work as a whole (even on repeat viewings). In “A Beautiful Mind,” on the other hand, I don’t feel the twist works - not because it isn’t interesting, or believable, but because the way it is handled and the timing serves to severe the relationship between the John Nash character and the audience at a crucial juncture. Up until the “twist,” I found myself empathizing and connecting with Nash, but afterwards, I spent my time looking for “false” characters and analyzing Nash - and this happens right as we are starting to get to know Nash. Rather than give greater insight into his character, it does just what the filmakers were trying to avoid: marginalizing his disease and making it somewhat difficult to discern what the real “he” is. The twist created an unecessary devide between me and the film and, as far as I am concerned, hurt the movie.
My son is a runner. He delights in getting up at six in the morning, sweating, pushing himself, and seeing steady improvement. What I’ve learned from him has a lot to do with discipline and diligence but nothing about dreading the run or praying for it to end. Running isn’t torture for him, but an exciting event to train for and look forward to week after week.
Perhaps, whether or not writing screenplays is like running a marathon depends entirely on what kind of runner you are. A lazy reluctant one looking only at the finish line has no business running.
Ben, I’m about as studio exec friendly as they get, but I still think you’re incorrect about this. My concern isn’t so much that they won’t read the document properly (which they often don’t, so it’s still of some concern) but more that I never want to hand over a printed page without a compensatory quid pro quo.
And that takes me to Writergurl. Here’s a woman (or gurl, whichever she prefers) who is trying to break in. If current professionals aren’t toeing the party line on not handing over written materials for free, how the hell is Gurl ever gonna have a chance? Of course producers and directors are going to want to squeeze her on a treatment for which, as Ted rightly points out, she ought to be paid.
Here’s the simple rule of thumb.
Talk is free.
Words on a page is my product, and you can’t have them unless you pay for them.
Craig, that’s ridiculous. Writergurl has no credits to speak of, no track record. How would a producer/director judge her idea if he doesn’t see it worked out on the page? I hate to say it, but you’re kinda reminding me of the gaffer who won’t pick up an applebox because it’s not in his contract :)
Gary:
Are you a member of the WGA?
No, and neither is writergurl. I do, however, go on many meetings with the studios and production companies, and they all expect you to pitch them ideas, then follow up with a treatment/outline and take it from there. I’m sure it’s simply enough for Craig Mazin and Ted Elliot to walk in the door and sell a three-sentence pitch, but for those of us without credits the bar is set much, much higher, as it should. You guys have proven yourself at the box office, execs KNOW what they’re getting when they hire you. All I have is a spec they admire, but can’t/won’t buy for various reasons…so then the following dialogue exchange happens:
exec: What’s your next big idea?
me: It’s blank. exec: Great! Love it. Let me see a treatment. me: um, are you willing to pay for that?
exec: we only buy pitches from David Keopp.
Really, Craig, what other choice do we have?
Gary:
I was actually hoping that you’d say “no”, because if you said “yes” I was going to get mad at you. :)
Because you’re not a member of the WGA, you wouldn’t have reason to know that producers and directors who can hire guys like me or Ted or Koepp must be signatory to the WGA. Because they are signatory to the WGA, they are contractually bound to follow certain rules.
One of the biggest of those rules is that they may not ask for work “on spec”. You can volunteer to sell them something on spec, but they can’t require it in any way as a prerequisite for employment.
In 1995, with no more experience or credits than you have now (most likely less experience), I pitched a movie, refused to submit an outline/treatment for free, and was subsequently hired to do to the work.
There is no such thing as a pitch that’s only good enough to buy if the writer also delivers it in written form. Either you get the pitch or not. Furthermore, the treatment won’t tell the producer anything about your ability to write a screenplay version of your own story. They must take that on faith, or determine it from other samples of your work.
Therefore, I’d argue that you’ve just bought into a lie…and an obvious one at that.
The choice you have is to believe that your pitch is either worth buying or not. If a potential purchaser requires you to submit a spec treatment of your pitch, then you should know one or more of three things:
I agree with Craig’s last post … in theory. In practice many great gains have been made by giving away free samples, or a taste, in order to sell the full course meal and land a regular and loyal customer. It would seem that if the taste sizzles and stands out, it would be worth it’s weight in gold and you would ultimately be paid for it down the road.
However, since I’m in a situation similar to writergurl (first “salable” script has some managers/producers “excited”) I am just dragging along old start-up stategies from a previous life. Hopefully I’ll soon face this situation and have a feel for what I personally can and should do. And like writergurl, I have a couple questions about free work, and the manager/producer situation that I have heard some dubious reports on.
If a small management/prodco, that has produced “real” movies and had success getting other new writers “real” work (studio, name brand, decent cash gigs, etc.) wants to sign me, and yet talks free options, or free re-writes to get the script presentable is this standard operating procedure?
Any advice on how I should weigh these pros and cons? Stipulations I can or should put in the contract? Red flags or dealbreakers? Questions I should ask? Thanks, and great site. I love all the different points of view.
Craig,
Thanks for weighing in.
(Yes, I am a “woman” but somehow, “writergurl” trips off the toungue better than “Writer Woman”. Why “gurl” instead of “girl”? Cause I’m from Atlanta and y’all know we slur when we speak!)
Ok, let’s throw more wood onto this little campfire we’ve got going here. Not only am I not a WGA member, I have no agent. Although, an actress friend of mine (she has a manager who also reps writers) is reading a sample of mine and is willing to pass it on if she likes it.
The guys I’m talking to are NOT WGA signatories although they have made 2 straight to dvd movies and they do have credits listed on IMDB. They have foreign financing in place for a feature. They seem like nice enough guys and the director has invited me to dine with he and his wife when I’m in LA for the Expo. (I can come up with a story/treatment by then.) They have seen a sample of my writing. Not only have they seen it, so have their money people, and they ALL liked it. Does this give me a stronger position to ask for pay for the treatment? After all, they’ve seen (and liked) my writing, why would they need more proof that I can write, right?
Lord, this stuff is nerve racking!
What would you recommend as my next step in this process?
Thanks for your help!
Is there a compromise available here? I’m thinking something along the lines of I give them the treatment they want, so they can pitch it to their investors, upon us signing a contract stipulating that they will pay me for X dollars for the treatment and another X dollars for the screenplay.
Of course that leaves open the possiblity that I might not get paid a thing if my story is not choosen (there are 2 other writers whom they’ve asked for a treatment).
Ok, now my head really does hurt.
As someone who only this week was screwed over by a major production company after giving them a “leave behind” I must urge all writers out there to NEVER hand anything over in writing unless you are being paid.
I gave them my “leave behind” after three meetings with them because I wanted to be collaborative and a team player. Big mistake. Now that they have my treatment, they are suddenly removing me from the project without explanation and have told another producer on the project that they are going to start looking for another writer, presumably using my story outline. Luckily, I have registered my work with the WGA.
I’ve been in this business for several years now and I can’t believe I made such a naive mistake — it was a momentary lapse in judgment. I now regret it. Don’t make the same mistake I did. One of the benefits of a website like this is so that all writers can learn from each other’s mistakes.
Atomic man, that doesn’t make any sense. How can they “remove” you from your own idea/treatment they haven’t bought from you?
The guys I’m talking to are NOT WGA signatories although they have made 2 straight to dvd movies and they do have credits listed on IMDB. They have foreign financing in place for a feature.
I’d be a little cautious here, especially the “foreign financing in place” part. I was a little overeager to write and took a “job” I definitely shouldn’t have. I’m putting job in quotation marks because I wasn’t going to get paid until the financiers read and approved the script. Never, ever agree to this. I overlooked an awful lot only because I wanted a writing assignment. It wasn’t worth it. It’s never worth it. I finally quit after a few months and a few drafts because it was clear[1] nothing was going to come of it.
[1] It was clear from the beginning, actually. Just not to me.
Hey Craig,
I’m a bit surprised - I do treatments quite often, especially for television stuff that my agent sends out, like a script - I do it like it’s a spec - does that mean I shouldn’t let anyone see a show bible I wrote for a proposed tv show unless they want to buy it?
I’m not WGA as of yet, though I believe my agency is.
Josh:
If you want to hawk your wares on spec, that’s fine (and your choice). However, you should never do it as a condition of employment.
Writergurl:
If they’re not WGA, just be very very very careful. That’s an indication, in and of itself, that they are on the shadier end of an already shady business.
Also, you wrote:
Yes. They can option your treatment. By optioning it, they agree to pay you something (negotiable) in order to have exclusive rights for a negotiable time period to set the project up with a studio or financier. Furthermore, they negotiate what they must pay you in addition (should this happen) for both the treatment and the ensuing screenplay that you write.
Ah Ha! So there IS a compromise available. Thanks for the reply! I’ll make it clear to them that I wish to have them option my treatment/ I suppose this agreement would be drawn up by an entertainment attorney, right?
As for being careful, why ya think I’m asking you guys this stuff? ;)
Once again, thank you for your helpful and “real world” advice.
Thanks Craig, and if I haven’t said this as of yet … you da man.
Being in this business requires balls (even if you’re a gurl). You have to stand up for your work, even if it means not selling your work … THIS TIME.
Writers often fall into the trap of feeling like they’ve got one chance and if they blow it, they’re screwed for life. Sometimes that’s true, but if you’re truly dedicated to your craft and your career, you have be confident in your ability to create quality work and quality contacts. You made one contact, you got your foot in one door, why couldn’t you do it again?
If the door you got your foot into is some shady producer with negligible credits (my friend’s 3-minute black and white student film with no sound is listed on IMDB — which tells you how much stock you can put in that as a barometer of credibility), and he’s asking you to work for free, it’s probably not a door worth opening anyway.
Believe me, I speak from experience. In my first meeting ever, while still at USC, my partner and I pitched three ideas. The producer wanted to option two of them on the spot. All the appropriate papers were drawn up … and he offered us nothing. It was a free option. Basically, we tie up the rights for a year and get nothing in return.
This was a guy with credits. They were B-level credits, but he had a twenty year track record and several shows you’ve heard of. My partner and I agonized over it. Here we are, so green and so new, and our first pitch has a chance to be sold. But if our first meeting went so well, should we really tie up the rights for no money? Maybe our second meeting would sell the show for some real money.
Ultimately, we decided that we had to believe in the quality of our product, and act like the professionals we wanted to be treated as. We rejected the option offer.
Two days later, the producer called us. He was extremely disappointed that we rejected the offer, because it was a project he was genuinely excited about. He asked us to make a counteroffer. We ran the contract by our lawyer, came up with a better version, and gave it back to the producer. He accepted it on OUR terms.
Although the show ultimately never sold, it got us into meetings with all the top execs at the major networks, plus a ton of meetings at smaller networks. It also led to us developing several more projects for the producer, which led to more meetings, which led to us getting an agent, etc.
It was terrifying to reject that first offer, but it ultimately worked out in our favor. We came into the relationship not as film students desperate for a break, but as professional writers worthy of being treated as such.
Believe in yourself. Believe in your work. Accept nothing less than the respect you deserve.
Warren, Well done. What we sometimes lack in those key moments is the courage to believe in our work. Your last line is certainly poignant for all of us and not just for writers.
“The Sixth Sense” as an example of a twist ending that works? Please! The plot goes all the way back to Ambrose Bierce’s short story “An Occurrence At Owl Creek Bridge”, which was adapted for a classic episode of “The Twilight Zone.” And then there’s “Jacob’s Ladder”, produced many, many years ago, which is basically the same plot.
Or how about the horror classic “Carnival of Souls” where the heroine dies in a car crash at the beginning of the movie and spends the remainder of the film discovering that she is dead?
Hell, even porn auteur John Leslie used the same plot line for his terrific surreal XXX effort, “Dog Walker.”
So, I guess “The Sixth Sense” is a shocker only for those who can’t immediately contextualize the material from having seen it before. That means there are millions of people who are basically dysfunctional when it comes to any appreciation or basic knowledge of film and literature history.
That’s depressing.
Rodger:
You’ve got the references down like the rest of us, but you’re missing the point of filmic storytelling.
The idea isn’t to be first. The idea is to be impactful. The fact that you are so contemptuous of the millions who enjoyed The Sixth Sense should give you some pause.
I didn’t see the twist in The Sixth Sense coming because I didn’t even know there was a twist. And I was still enjoying the hell out of it. If I’d known to expect a twist, I probably would have figured it out. But I took everything at face value and it was still a lot of fun. The twist worked only because the rest of the movie worked.
Alright, Michael raises a good point here that I should have addressed, in all fairness. I saw the movie weeks after it’s initial release and all the attendant hype about the twist ending that will blow your socks off. So, I was looking for it and found it when Bruce Willis’s character is shot by the demented home intruder. That’s, what, ten minutes into the film?
Craig, I didn’t mean to come off contemptuous but I did get perturbed at a few friends who had to see the film a second time immediately because they could not contextualize after the twist. In fact, if anything, that’s the real genius behind “The Sixth Sense” — repeat ticket sales from those who were sucker punched by the ending.
I’ll take “The Usual Suspects” over “Sixth” any day — repeated viewings of that film still haven’t convinced me that Bryan Singer isn’t taking the audience on a wonderful and pointless joy ride. Further, the twist in “Suspects” is delivered in a far more intelligent and artful fashion.
“Some twist endings are so radical, they can literally warp one?s appreciation of the film itself. I hated Fight Club the first time I saw it because I simply couldn?t recontextualize the film fully after learning the twist. When I saw it the second time and was able to watch the film in forward fashion with the proper context, I absolutely loved.”
To me it was visually brilliant, a wonderful statement on conspicious consumption, terrific performances all the way around, and a complete let down of an ending. Who the hell would follow some guy beating the crap out of himself? I doubt that would’ve worked for Jim Jones or David Koresh.
Craig,
Further to your reply to my post about leave-behinds, you’re being too precious. Especially if a writer isn’t of the same caliber as you, in which case it isn’t so much about getting the job as it is about ‘getting into position to get the job’.
If a leave-behind is going to help the VP recall and re-present the idea to the boss (who isn’t going to let the writer come back in without some indication of what the pitch is), then you’d better be ready to leave something behind. Otherwise you’re cutting off your nose to spite your face.
As far as the execs using your ideas but not hiring you for the job, too bad. You don’t control the property you’re auditioning for, so you can’t protect your pitch. If an exec loves something you come up with, and he wants to make it part of the movie, but he doesn’t want to hire you for the job, it’s not like he can’t write the idea down himself and use it. So refusing to leave a leave-behind isn’t ‘protecting’ you in any way, either.
Most importantly, by refusing to give a leave-behind, you’re not accounting for the differences in the way people think and imagine material and stories. Take me, for example—I’m much more apt to respond favorably to a write-up that I can mull over and imagine and play out in my head, as opposed to trying to re-play your pitch in my head, beat for beat.
So if I’m a VP, and I’m listening to your pitch, you DEFINITELY want to leave me a leave behind, because if you don’t, it’s going to be harder for me to recall and re-present your ideas to my boss, so I’m more apt to just pass you over.
Also, keep in mind that VP’s will often have an assistant in the room jotting down the beats of your pitch. So your choice isn’t really ‘leave a leave-behind’, or ‘don’t leave a leave-behind’, it’s more like ‘do I want THE ASSISTANT’S write-up of my pitch circulating in the office’, or ‘do I want MY write-up of my pitch circulating the office.’
The decision to leave the leave-behind isn’t really about you; it’s about the exec. You want to make the best presentation possible, which means you should be prepared for whatever sort of imagination the exec. has—a verbally oriented one, or a written one.
I really wish writers would get off this issue and just leave a write-up behind. It’d make the process of pitching (which everyone hates) so much easier and sensible.
If I were a studio VP, I would just videotape all the pitches, to give myself something to refer to, and to show my boss.
Ben
Ben is on the money. The highest up in the writer food chain I ever got (in Hollywood, mind you, I’m well-established in other markets) was with a spec I had in development at Arnold Kopelson Productions a few years ago.
As the script drew closer to a product presentable to Warners I began having weekly meetings with the Development VP which, over time, came to include one assistant and two story editors, all three with notebooks in their laps. They were pushing pens to paper furiously but sometimes I would look over and one of them wasn’t writing and I would think, “Is he getting this?” At those moments I was glad I had my own set of notes to leave behind, rather than trust that everything I conveyed was locked away in their brains.
Not the same as a pitch meeting, I know, but the same dynamic that Ben mentions.
Ben:
I don’t hate pitching. :)
Also, you write:
That’s not true. You absolutely can protect your pitch. You’re right in assuming that the idea isn’t copyrightable, but your unique expressions are, and they cannot be used without your consent. If you give your attorney the “leave behind” instead of giving it to the exec, you’re fairly well protected.
It’s my experience that leave-behinds are, well…a rookie move. I don’t mean that nastily. They just are. And while many of the readers of this site are rookies, that doesn’t mean they have to act like rookies.
This is simple Hollywood math, Ben.
The more you withhold, the more they want it.
The more you give away, the less interested they are in you.
That applies to rookies, all-stars and everyone in between.
If I ever come across this situation, I’m going to act part-rookie, part-pro and say, “Do you know Craig? Craig Mazin? The screenwriter… yeah, I just spoke to him before this meeting to get some advice and he told me NOT to do a leave-behind. I’m sorry, but I really need to follow his advice.”
Probably a stupid move, but I can’t think of a better way of protecting myself AND being honest to my position as a rookie-who-does-not-know-much-about-protecting-himself.
Three phrases should be among the most common in our daily usage. They are: Thank you, I am grateful and I appreciate.
Speaking of twists, what about ‘Oldboy’? I really didn’t enjoy the movie that much but the twist almost made it worth sitting through. Almost. It went on for another half hour after it was revealed…
As for ‘Usual Suspects’, I know I’m in a minority but that one didn’t work for me. Only because the movie offered up no other plausible character who could have been Kaiser Soze. Where they going to introduce a new character 10 minutes from the end? No, so it had to be someone we’d already seen. So who could it be? Ah, of course. If you realise the movie is about finding the identity of Kaiser Soze then the ending gave itself away. But as long as you’re not looking for a twist it can work.
‘Identity’ is horrible for the same reason. There is a big scene in the middle that has no other purpose but to telegraph the ending. The twist in ‘Sixth Sense’ works because the set-up of Willis being shot also worked as a character scene. And explained why helping this boy meant everything to him.
However, ‘Sixth Sense’ for me ends in the car between mother and son. The twist is nice, but it’s not essential to the real story being told. In Fight Club too, the twist in non-essential to getting something out of the movie. I guess it comes down to whether you’re one of the people who like to ‘be the character’ or just like to ‘care for the characters’.
My friend loves to imagine himself as the characters, and is always asking himself - “what if that was me?” (so he loves superhero films). I just prefer to watch characters and adapt their story to my own set of circumstances. I could care less for twists because they almost never happen to me in real life.