My last several posts have been about pitching – important stuff, but I’m anxious to get back to talking about craft. And I imagine most of you prefer that as well. The art and craft are why we do this. But before I get back to the fun stuff, I want to talk a little bit about one of the challenges facing aspiring screenwriters looking to break into Hollywood filmmaking.
This post stems from my experience doing critiques at the Southwest Writers Screen and Script Conference in Albuquerque last weekend. I critiqued the first five pages of four writers’ screenplays. I was pleasantly surprised with how competent the writing was. However, none of the samples really grabbed me and got me excited.
Now maybe that’s unfair – it was only five pages. As one of the attendees pointed out, many movies open with “status quo” scenes showing the character and environment, setting us up for the story to come. Absolutely true. I even advocate this status quo section in my structural breakdown.
However, just the other day I had someone in development tell me that if they read the first page of a screenplay and aren’t hooked, they won’t read the second page. That’s right, you get one page to grab this person.
There’s a difference between movies and spec scripts. The audience for a movie already knows what it’s about. They’ve seen a trailer, a poster, maybe read a review and heard stars discuss the film on talk shows. Maybe friends have told them about it.
But when a development exec or producer picks up a spec screenplay, they don’t have any idea what it's going to be. Perhaps the writer’s agent has given them the logline of the project, but there’s no guarantee they’ll remember it by the time they get to the script in their pile of evening reading. Now if the writer is a big name or simply someone the exec knows has talent, they might give them a little time to develop the story. But if you’re just breaking in, you don’t necessarily have that luxury.
And yeah, it’s not really fair. But Hollywood doesn’t promise to be fair.
The openings I read in Albuquerque may have been fine for a script that was already in development where people are committed to making it. But as a sample to break into the business, many executives wouldn’t make it past these first few pages. (Not everyone in Hollywood is as quick to throw stuff on the reject pile, but no buyer is obligated to continue reading a script they aren’t excited about.)
The writers in question have several things working against them. Number one, they are, at this time, Hollywood outsiders. I don’t think any of them have agents. And they don’t live in Los Angeles, so finding buyers to even read their scripts is probably a challenge. Plus, three of the four scripts were period pieces. Period pieces are a tough sell because they’re expensive.
Of course outsiders break into the business all the time. Every working screenwriter was once an aspiring screenwriter. And you can write a movie that’s a tough sell. Period pieces do get made. But these obstacles mean you have to work that much harder to grab people and engage their interest.
So what is the poor aspiring writer to do? One of the writers told me her script was an action movie, but I pointed out there was no action in the first five pages. I suggested that perhaps she add a prologue, maybe something with the villains, that would establish the tone of the film right up front.
It’s also important to remember that just because a scene doesn’t contain a crucial plot point doesn’t mean it can be a boring scene. Put conflict into those early scenes. Make them about something. Create obstacles for your character to overcome. If you’re writing a comedy, make sure the early scenes are funny. And whatever you do, don’t open with exposition!
This is true even for produced movies. Some Like It Hot (story by R. Thoeren and M. Logan, screenplay by Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond) has a very late Catalyst. We don’t find out what the story is really about until twenty-five minutes into the film. But look how it opens: We start with a chase and shootout between cops and bootleggers. Then we meet our heroes – musicians working in a speakeasy. And the speakeasy is immediately raided. We get action, humor, conflict, drama. We’re entertained enough that we’ll wait a little bit to find out where this story is going.
You should look carefully at the first few pages of your screenplay. If you are an aspiring screenwriter trying to break in (or even a professional trying to sell a spec), those first pages have a job to do that has nothing to do with telling a great movie story. They have to grab a reader who knows nothing about your premise and convince them to keep reading long enough to uncover that premise.
When you get to production, maybe you’ll change the opening. But you can’t get to production until you convince someone to buy your script. And with the intense competition in Hollywood, you need to grab them fast and hard from the first page.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Pitching Part 8 – What You Bring with You
The vast majority of the time I rely purely on my storytelling ability to sell my pitch. If it’s based on underlying material – a comic book or a novel – I will bring that with me. It helps the project feel more substantial.
It used to be that, for writers, bringing anything else was considered goofy and amateurish. But these days that’s changed somewhat. Some writers now bring concept art, props, maybe even a short video (emphasize short – two minutes at most if you’re going to show it in the meeting).
My take on visual aids is that if it is organic to the concept it can help, but if not there’s a risk it will smack of “trying too hard.” So if you were pitching a story about, say, an actual specialized, elite, military unit and you had some photos of that unit in action, it would be helpful to make them part of the presentation.
But if you’re pitching something like a more standard romantic comedy, bringing in props will seem gimmicky. You probably wouldn’t want to bring in wedding cake to pitch a wedding comedy, for example.
If you do decide to bring something, it should look professional. Remember, these people make media for a living. They’re used to looking at the most high quality stuff. Unless you’re a trained entertainment designer, don’t bring in drawings you made yourself. And if you shoot a video, it shouldn’t be something you made with your mini-DV camera in your back yard.
(Note: Directors are far more likely to bring in visual aids for a pitch. But the standard of professionalism still applies.)
Leave Behinds
Far more common for writers is the “leave behind.” This is a printed, one-page summary of your pitch that you leave with the executive or producer you’ve pitched to. The reason you might want to do this is that the person you pitched to may have to pitch your idea to other people at the company before deciding whether to move forward. Giving them a leave behind helps them do this better.
Of course it also gives those mysterious other people something to reject. Many writers refuse to do leave behinds because they would rather get called in to redo the pitch themselves for the other execs. There’s no guarantee that will happen, of course, but it’s more likely if you haven’t given a convenient summary for them to read instead. Or that’s the theory, anyway.
Personally I don’t do leave behinds. But sometimes I’m asked if I can provide a summary. In those cases I’ll do a one pager and send it along after the meeting. But only one page – I don’t want to get into a situation where I’m developing a treatment for free.
Sometimes people do outrageous things to try to make an impression. And sometimes it works. But usually it doesn’t. Microsoft famously had the Halo script delivered to studios by a man dressed in costume as the main character. People in Hollywood still snicker about that.
My advice is to just be professional. Ultimately you will succeed or fail based on your ability to tell a compelling story. Focus on crafting and rehearsing the verbal part of your pitch rather than trying to devise intricate gimmicks.
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One week left until the SouthWest Wrtiers Screen & Script Conference where I will be delivering a keynote. More info: http://www.southwestwriters.com/conferences.php
It used to be that, for writers, bringing anything else was considered goofy and amateurish. But these days that’s changed somewhat. Some writers now bring concept art, props, maybe even a short video (emphasize short – two minutes at most if you’re going to show it in the meeting).
My take on visual aids is that if it is organic to the concept it can help, but if not there’s a risk it will smack of “trying too hard.” So if you were pitching a story about, say, an actual specialized, elite, military unit and you had some photos of that unit in action, it would be helpful to make them part of the presentation.
But if you’re pitching something like a more standard romantic comedy, bringing in props will seem gimmicky. You probably wouldn’t want to bring in wedding cake to pitch a wedding comedy, for example.
If you do decide to bring something, it should look professional. Remember, these people make media for a living. They’re used to looking at the most high quality stuff. Unless you’re a trained entertainment designer, don’t bring in drawings you made yourself. And if you shoot a video, it shouldn’t be something you made with your mini-DV camera in your back yard.
(Note: Directors are far more likely to bring in visual aids for a pitch. But the standard of professionalism still applies.)
Leave Behinds
Far more common for writers is the “leave behind.” This is a printed, one-page summary of your pitch that you leave with the executive or producer you’ve pitched to. The reason you might want to do this is that the person you pitched to may have to pitch your idea to other people at the company before deciding whether to move forward. Giving them a leave behind helps them do this better.
Of course it also gives those mysterious other people something to reject. Many writers refuse to do leave behinds because they would rather get called in to redo the pitch themselves for the other execs. There’s no guarantee that will happen, of course, but it’s more likely if you haven’t given a convenient summary for them to read instead. Or that’s the theory, anyway.
Personally I don’t do leave behinds. But sometimes I’m asked if I can provide a summary. In those cases I’ll do a one pager and send it along after the meeting. But only one page – I don’t want to get into a situation where I’m developing a treatment for free.
Sometimes people do outrageous things to try to make an impression. And sometimes it works. But usually it doesn’t. Microsoft famously had the Halo script delivered to studios by a man dressed in costume as the main character. People in Hollywood still snicker about that.
My advice is to just be professional. Ultimately you will succeed or fail based on your ability to tell a compelling story. Focus on crafting and rehearsing the verbal part of your pitch rather than trying to devise intricate gimmicks.
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One week left until the SouthWest Wrtiers Screen & Script Conference where I will be delivering a keynote. More info: http://www.southwestwriters.com/conferences.php
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Pitching Part 7 – Distractions
I’ve been talking mostly about how to craft and deliver your pitch, but of course the pitch will just be one part of a meeting with an executive or producer. Back in September of 2010 I wrote a description of a general meeting you might want to look at if you’ve never been to one. And you will pitch at a general meeting. Pitch meetings - meetings for a producer or executive to hear a specific pitch, most likely from a writer they already know - work much the same.
Ask any professional writer about pitching and before long you will undoubtedly be hearing horror stories. I once pitched to a guy whose wife was in surgery. Every time the phone rang, he jumped. I don’t think he heard a word I said.
Another time the producer fell asleep (not a good indicator of my pitching skill). Once a producer swiveled his chair around so I was pitching to the back of his head – try it sometime; it’s not easy. A friend was asked to pitch to a guy through a bathroom door while he was relieving himself – the guy actually asked him to do it! And these stories are mild.
I can’t possibly begin to cover all of the possible interruptions and distractions you may face. But I can give you some general guidelines that should apply in most situations.
The number one rule is never lose your cool. Whatever happens, smile and be gracious – even if they aren’t. When I pitch, of course I’m trying to sell that idea. But more important is that I start/build/maintain my relationship with the buyer. If they don’t buy this pitch, I want the opportunity to come back with the next one. So don’t get angry or frustrated… or if you do, don’t let it show.
The most common type of disruption you’ll encounter is someone taking a phone call. My advice is simply to stop pitching, wait quietly, and when they’re done just pick up where you left off as if nothing had happened. This works for most types of interruptions.
On a few occasions, someone has joined the pitch late – another exec or producer I didn’t know was going to be there. I try to quickly catch them up on the story by giving the logline, character information and critical plot beats, but avoid going into great detail so I don’t bore the person or people who were there from the start.
Some buyers will sit quietly and listen to your pitch straight through. Others will interrupt and ask questions. Some will make suggestions. You don’t want to let this throw you. Answer their questions, of course, and try to address their suggestions with a grateful attitude. Whatever you do, don’t criticize their ideas! They don’t like it any more than you do, and they’re not selling anything.
Questions and suggestions are actually good – it means they are engaged in your story. Most often, you’ll simply return to your rehearsed pitch as soon as you’ve addressed their comment. But if it seems like they’ve moved into a mode of brainstorming ideas for your story, it may be best just to abandon the prepared pitch and engage in the discussion with them.
Regardless of whether they interrupt or sit quietly and listen, it’s important to “read the room.” This means paying attention to how your audience is reacting to the pitch. If something’s exciting them, maybe elaborate on it a little. If they look confused, perhaps slow down and explain a little more. If they are starting to get bored, hurry to the next exciting twist.
This is why it can be an advantage to be working from an outline instead of a memorized pitch. It allows you to improvise more easily. Of course, many development execs are experts at masking their emotion, but if you pay attention you can often get a sense of what they’re feeling.
When the pitch is over, the buyer will likely not immediately tell you how they feel. They probably have to discuss it with others in the office before they can buy it. Or, they may know it’s not for them and just tell you that right up front. If they have criticisms, you have to be careful how you respond.
If there is some confusion or small issues that you can address, then do so. But you don’t want to end up arguing with them, particularly if they’ve already decided they’re not interested. Remember, you want to maintain the relationship! So listen politely and if you sense it’s a pass, just thank them and move on.
When you’re just starting out, every pitch can feel like it’s a make-or-break situation for your career. Trust me, it’s not. You’ll get other opportunities. So if things don’t go perfectly, don’t overreact.
Ask any professional writer about pitching and before long you will undoubtedly be hearing horror stories. I once pitched to a guy whose wife was in surgery. Every time the phone rang, he jumped. I don’t think he heard a word I said.
Another time the producer fell asleep (not a good indicator of my pitching skill). Once a producer swiveled his chair around so I was pitching to the back of his head – try it sometime; it’s not easy. A friend was asked to pitch to a guy through a bathroom door while he was relieving himself – the guy actually asked him to do it! And these stories are mild.
I can’t possibly begin to cover all of the possible interruptions and distractions you may face. But I can give you some general guidelines that should apply in most situations.
The number one rule is never lose your cool. Whatever happens, smile and be gracious – even if they aren’t. When I pitch, of course I’m trying to sell that idea. But more important is that I start/build/maintain my relationship with the buyer. If they don’t buy this pitch, I want the opportunity to come back with the next one. So don’t get angry or frustrated… or if you do, don’t let it show.
The most common type of disruption you’ll encounter is someone taking a phone call. My advice is simply to stop pitching, wait quietly, and when they’re done just pick up where you left off as if nothing had happened. This works for most types of interruptions.
On a few occasions, someone has joined the pitch late – another exec or producer I didn’t know was going to be there. I try to quickly catch them up on the story by giving the logline, character information and critical plot beats, but avoid going into great detail so I don’t bore the person or people who were there from the start.
Some buyers will sit quietly and listen to your pitch straight through. Others will interrupt and ask questions. Some will make suggestions. You don’t want to let this throw you. Answer their questions, of course, and try to address their suggestions with a grateful attitude. Whatever you do, don’t criticize their ideas! They don’t like it any more than you do, and they’re not selling anything.
Questions and suggestions are actually good – it means they are engaged in your story. Most often, you’ll simply return to your rehearsed pitch as soon as you’ve addressed their comment. But if it seems like they’ve moved into a mode of brainstorming ideas for your story, it may be best just to abandon the prepared pitch and engage in the discussion with them.
Regardless of whether they interrupt or sit quietly and listen, it’s important to “read the room.” This means paying attention to how your audience is reacting to the pitch. If something’s exciting them, maybe elaborate on it a little. If they look confused, perhaps slow down and explain a little more. If they are starting to get bored, hurry to the next exciting twist.
This is why it can be an advantage to be working from an outline instead of a memorized pitch. It allows you to improvise more easily. Of course, many development execs are experts at masking their emotion, but if you pay attention you can often get a sense of what they’re feeling.
When the pitch is over, the buyer will likely not immediately tell you how they feel. They probably have to discuss it with others in the office before they can buy it. Or, they may know it’s not for them and just tell you that right up front. If they have criticisms, you have to be careful how you respond.
If there is some confusion or small issues that you can address, then do so. But you don’t want to end up arguing with them, particularly if they’ve already decided they’re not interested. Remember, you want to maintain the relationship! So listen politely and if you sense it’s a pass, just thank them and move on.
When you’re just starting out, every pitch can feel like it’s a make-or-break situation for your career. Trust me, it’s not. You’ll get other opportunities. So if things don’t go perfectly, don’t overreact.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Pitching Part 6 - Performance Style
Like it or not, a pitch is a performance. And of course most writers don’t like it. The kind of people who can lock themselves in a room all day and create stories from their imagination tend not to be natural performers. You don’t have to master the art of song and dance to pitch, but there are a few techniques I recommend you consider.
First, you ought to pitch with energy. I know a writer who gets up and strides around the room during the pitch acting out parts. He’s even on occasion jumped up on a desk. I would never do that. It’s just not me and I would feel silly. But I do sit forward and describe my story animatedly, expressing enthusiasm for it the way I would if I were describing my favorite movie to someone who’s never seen it.
Because think about it – if you don’t like your story, why should they? If you slump back, mumbling in a monotone while you pick at a loose thread on your jeans, they are going to think that even you are bored by your pitch. But enthusiasm is contagious, so get enthusiastic.
Also, be sure you are telling your story in straightforward, declarative sentences. Look at this pitch opening written out as it might be delivered verbally:
So, it’s about this archeologist, right? And he’s kind of adventurous. He runs around with, you know, a bullwhip? And he’s sort of, like, this expert with it. So the FBI comes to him because they’re a little suspicious of this other archeologist who they kind of think could be, like, friendly to the Nazis or something.
There are two problems with this. First, when you pose your sentences in a questioning way, you seem like you are unsure of your story. Is he an archeologist or not? If you don’t know, who does?
Second, you want to watch for weak phrases: sort of, kind of, a little, like, a bit. It’s natural to use these in speech, but it weakens the drama of your story. As you rehearse your pitch, try to eliminate these kinds of words. Since we often don’t even realize we’re saying them, it might help to videotape yourself once.
Look at the same paragraph above re-formed with direct, declarative sentences:
It’s about an adventurous archeologist who is an expert with a bullwhip. The FBI comes to him because they’re suspicious that another archeologist might be in league with the Nazis.
Much better, right?
Of course part of presentation is how you look. A pitch is a business meeting – in a sense it’s a job interview – so you should dress appropriately and pay attention to basic hygiene. Of course what’s appropriate attire in the film business is often different than what’s appropriate in other industries.
You don’t have to wear a business suit. In fact, it might hurt you. You are supposed to be the creative talent – they don’t want you to look like a lawyer! But they also don’t want you to look like the guy who washes the cars in the valet parking.
I recommend you dress like you would for a first date. Something casual but nice, something you’re comfortable in, and something that makes you feel good about yourself.
The truth is, the single best thing you can do to pitch better is relax. But that’s probably an impossible goal. You will be nervous. So manage it by being prepared. Learning to deliver a good pitch is an ongoing process. So just keep rehearsing and you will get better at it.
Next post I’ll discuss how to handle the kinds of distractions and interruptions that might arise in a pitch.
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Remember, if you’re going to be near Albuquerque on February 25th, you might want to check out the SouthWest Wrtiers Screen & Script Conference 2012 where I will be delivering a keynote. More info: http://www.southwestwriters.com/conferences.php
First, you ought to pitch with energy. I know a writer who gets up and strides around the room during the pitch acting out parts. He’s even on occasion jumped up on a desk. I would never do that. It’s just not me and I would feel silly. But I do sit forward and describe my story animatedly, expressing enthusiasm for it the way I would if I were describing my favorite movie to someone who’s never seen it.
Because think about it – if you don’t like your story, why should they? If you slump back, mumbling in a monotone while you pick at a loose thread on your jeans, they are going to think that even you are bored by your pitch. But enthusiasm is contagious, so get enthusiastic.
Also, be sure you are telling your story in straightforward, declarative sentences. Look at this pitch opening written out as it might be delivered verbally:
So, it’s about this archeologist, right? And he’s kind of adventurous. He runs around with, you know, a bullwhip? And he’s sort of, like, this expert with it. So the FBI comes to him because they’re a little suspicious of this other archeologist who they kind of think could be, like, friendly to the Nazis or something.
There are two problems with this. First, when you pose your sentences in a questioning way, you seem like you are unsure of your story. Is he an archeologist or not? If you don’t know, who does?
Second, you want to watch for weak phrases: sort of, kind of, a little, like, a bit. It’s natural to use these in speech, but it weakens the drama of your story. As you rehearse your pitch, try to eliminate these kinds of words. Since we often don’t even realize we’re saying them, it might help to videotape yourself once.
Look at the same paragraph above re-formed with direct, declarative sentences:
It’s about an adventurous archeologist who is an expert with a bullwhip. The FBI comes to him because they’re suspicious that another archeologist might be in league with the Nazis.
Much better, right?
Of course part of presentation is how you look. A pitch is a business meeting – in a sense it’s a job interview – so you should dress appropriately and pay attention to basic hygiene. Of course what’s appropriate attire in the film business is often different than what’s appropriate in other industries.
You don’t have to wear a business suit. In fact, it might hurt you. You are supposed to be the creative talent – they don’t want you to look like a lawyer! But they also don’t want you to look like the guy who washes the cars in the valet parking.
I recommend you dress like you would for a first date. Something casual but nice, something you’re comfortable in, and something that makes you feel good about yourself.
The truth is, the single best thing you can do to pitch better is relax. But that’s probably an impossible goal. You will be nervous. So manage it by being prepared. Learning to deliver a good pitch is an ongoing process. So just keep rehearsing and you will get better at it.
Next post I’ll discuss how to handle the kinds of distractions and interruptions that might arise in a pitch.
--
Remember, if you’re going to be near Albuquerque on February 25th, you might want to check out the SouthWest Wrtiers Screen & Script Conference 2012 where I will be delivering a keynote. More info: http://www.southwestwriters.com/conferences.php
Friday, January 27, 2012
Pitching – Preparing Your Presentation
I’ve been talking about how I construct the content of a pitch over the last few posts, but equally important is how you present your pitch. When I was starting out, many successful writers told me they memorized their pitch word-for-word. They would write it out in a very conversational style, memorize it, and then perform it like an actor. So that’s what I did.
It was frequently a disaster. I’m not an actor. I would get horrible stage fright upon launching into my story. And if I lost my place or forgot a line, my performance would frequently fall apart. Plus, sometimes the executive would interrupt me to ask questions or make suggestions. Since I’d memorized so specifically, I wasn’t easily able to adapt and that meant more nervousness and fumbling.
So I stopped memorizing. What I do now is create a bullet point outline for my pitch. Then I improvise the pitch based on that outline. I rehearse many times, often with other people, until I know it backwards and forwards. Things that get a good response in my rehearsals will lodge in my mind and I’ll tend to say them the same way in the future, but I don’t feel pressured to get it exactly right. And now my pitches are much more casual and conversational.
You don’t have to do it my way. Obviously word-for-word memorization works for a lot of other writers. I’d say do what makes you most comfortable. The one thing I wouldn’t suggest is reading verbatim from a page. That comes off as tedious and annoying.
If you memorize, you can carry a printout of your pitch to refer to if you get lost. Similarly, if you do an outline like me, you can hold a page with the bullet points, or bring index cards. It won’t raise any eyebrows in the meeting if you work from notes. Personally, I try to deliver my pitch without any reference material, but I do keep a bullet point outline convenient in the side pocket of my briefcase in case I completely blank out.
But that rarely happens because I’ve rehearsed so much. And rehearsal is key no matter what technique you employ. You will be nervous. We all are. And you have to be prepared for bizarre interruptions and distractions. So the more you’ve rehearsed, the better you’ll be able to handle the stress of the room.
You can rehearse into the mirror or to your teddy bear or to a spot on the wall, but I like to do at least a few pitches to actual people. It enables me to gauge their response to various things and I can find out where they get confused or misinterpret something. Rehearsing is the single greatest thing you can do to improve your pitching.
Next time I’ll discuss some of the things that will help you deliver your well-rehearsed pitch as effectively as possible.
It was frequently a disaster. I’m not an actor. I would get horrible stage fright upon launching into my story. And if I lost my place or forgot a line, my performance would frequently fall apart. Plus, sometimes the executive would interrupt me to ask questions or make suggestions. Since I’d memorized so specifically, I wasn’t easily able to adapt and that meant more nervousness and fumbling.
So I stopped memorizing. What I do now is create a bullet point outline for my pitch. Then I improvise the pitch based on that outline. I rehearse many times, often with other people, until I know it backwards and forwards. Things that get a good response in my rehearsals will lodge in my mind and I’ll tend to say them the same way in the future, but I don’t feel pressured to get it exactly right. And now my pitches are much more casual and conversational.
You don’t have to do it my way. Obviously word-for-word memorization works for a lot of other writers. I’d say do what makes you most comfortable. The one thing I wouldn’t suggest is reading verbatim from a page. That comes off as tedious and annoying.
If you memorize, you can carry a printout of your pitch to refer to if you get lost. Similarly, if you do an outline like me, you can hold a page with the bullet points, or bring index cards. It won’t raise any eyebrows in the meeting if you work from notes. Personally, I try to deliver my pitch without any reference material, but I do keep a bullet point outline convenient in the side pocket of my briefcase in case I completely blank out.
But that rarely happens because I’ve rehearsed so much. And rehearsal is key no matter what technique you employ. You will be nervous. We all are. And you have to be prepared for bizarre interruptions and distractions. So the more you’ve rehearsed, the better you’ll be able to handle the stress of the room.
You can rehearse into the mirror or to your teddy bear or to a spot on the wall, but I like to do at least a few pitches to actual people. It enables me to gauge their response to various things and I can find out where they get confused or misinterpret something. Rehearsing is the single greatest thing you can do to improve your pitching.
Next time I’ll discuss some of the things that will help you deliver your well-rehearsed pitch as effectively as possible.
--
On another note, if you’re going to be near Albuquerque on February 25th, you might want to check out the SouthWest Wrtiers Screen & Script Conference 2012 where I will be delivering a keynote. More info: http://www.southwestwriters.com/conferences.php
On another note, if you’re going to be near Albuquerque on February 25th, you might want to check out the SouthWest Wrtiers Screen & Script Conference 2012 where I will be delivering a keynote. More info: http://www.southwestwriters.com/conferences.php
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Pitching Part 4 - Honing Your Pitch
All right, it’s been a few weeks, but it’s now time to get back to my series of posts on pitching. When I left off, I had just outlined the basic structure I use to craft a pitch. Now I want to discuss a few “guidelines" I have as I look over what I've created.
1) Make it shorter. You do have to tell a complete story, of course, but I believe that you sell a pitch within the first two minutes. If you haven’t hooked them by then you never will. If you do sell them on the idea in the first two minutes, however, you can still talk them out of it. (Friends of mine call this “unselling” your idea). So you have to get to the cool stuff as soon as possible, and then just try not to blow it. And the longer you talk, the greater chance you have to blow it.
2) Don’t give more than three characters names (in the pitch). It’s hard for us to remember names given verbally, particularly if we’re told the names in rapid succession. So if you tell me about Rob and Sue and Ken and Ricardo and Kim and Selena and Steve in the first couple minutes of your pitch, and then later refer back to Ken, there’s a pretty good chance I’m going to forget which one he was. I do recommend giving your main character a name – it helps them feel like a real person and makes it easier to identify with them. Then you might also name one or two others, maybe the antagonist and/or the love interest. The rest of the characters can be referred to by their job title or relationship to the main character. For example, you might talk about the Sheriff, his Mother, the Henchman, and the Landlord. We’re better able to remember those roles than we are names.
3) Have a title. Ideally, have a good title. A writer friend of mine believes she’s sold three of her pitches on the title alone (though she did the whole pitch). But even if it’s not fantastic, having a title makes the movie feel real. And since you’re basically trying to get someone to pay a lot of money for your hot air, the more real you can make it sound, the better.
4) Don’t give us choices. Every once in a while I’ll hear a pitch where the writer offers two possible endings. Their thought is they could do either and want to pick the one the buyer likes best. But buyers don’t want to do your work for you. They don’t want to pick. They want you to tell a good story – with the best ending you can come up with.
5) Give the ending. Sometimes amateurs will try the whole, “if you want to know how it ends, you’ll have to hire me to write the script” ploy. Don’t. Again, you’re asking them to give you a lot of money for your story. They’re not going to do that if they don’t know that you have a good ending.
6) Focus on character and conflict, not plot. This is really a recap of what I talked about last time, but it bears repeating. Plot will not sell your idea. Emphasize the character and their journey, and make sure the conflict and stakes are clear. Make sure you’re tracking the character change and the changing relationships between the characters.
7) Your pitch should be the same genre as your movie. So if you’re pitching a comedy, your pitch should be funny. And if you’re pitching a drama, don’t make light of the story, take it seriously. Action pitches should be fast paced and exciting, horror pitches should be creepy, romantic comedies should be emotionally moving and funny, and so on.
Next post I’ll discuss some issues of presenting your pitch and how I prepare for that aspect of pitching.
Also, I’m giving a keynote at the SouthWest Writers Screen & Script Conference 2012 in Albuquerque on February 25th. If you’re interested in learning more, here’s the link: http://www.southwestwriters.com/conferences.php
1) Make it shorter. You do have to tell a complete story, of course, but I believe that you sell a pitch within the first two minutes. If you haven’t hooked them by then you never will. If you do sell them on the idea in the first two minutes, however, you can still talk them out of it. (Friends of mine call this “unselling” your idea). So you have to get to the cool stuff as soon as possible, and then just try not to blow it. And the longer you talk, the greater chance you have to blow it.
2) Don’t give more than three characters names (in the pitch). It’s hard for us to remember names given verbally, particularly if we’re told the names in rapid succession. So if you tell me about Rob and Sue and Ken and Ricardo and Kim and Selena and Steve in the first couple minutes of your pitch, and then later refer back to Ken, there’s a pretty good chance I’m going to forget which one he was. I do recommend giving your main character a name – it helps them feel like a real person and makes it easier to identify with them. Then you might also name one or two others, maybe the antagonist and/or the love interest. The rest of the characters can be referred to by their job title or relationship to the main character. For example, you might talk about the Sheriff, his Mother, the Henchman, and the Landlord. We’re better able to remember those roles than we are names.
3) Have a title. Ideally, have a good title. A writer friend of mine believes she’s sold three of her pitches on the title alone (though she did the whole pitch). But even if it’s not fantastic, having a title makes the movie feel real. And since you’re basically trying to get someone to pay a lot of money for your hot air, the more real you can make it sound, the better.
4) Don’t give us choices. Every once in a while I’ll hear a pitch where the writer offers two possible endings. Their thought is they could do either and want to pick the one the buyer likes best. But buyers don’t want to do your work for you. They don’t want to pick. They want you to tell a good story – with the best ending you can come up with.
5) Give the ending. Sometimes amateurs will try the whole, “if you want to know how it ends, you’ll have to hire me to write the script” ploy. Don’t. Again, you’re asking them to give you a lot of money for your story. They’re not going to do that if they don’t know that you have a good ending.
6) Focus on character and conflict, not plot. This is really a recap of what I talked about last time, but it bears repeating. Plot will not sell your idea. Emphasize the character and their journey, and make sure the conflict and stakes are clear. Make sure you’re tracking the character change and the changing relationships between the characters.
7) Your pitch should be the same genre as your movie. So if you’re pitching a comedy, your pitch should be funny. And if you’re pitching a drama, don’t make light of the story, take it seriously. Action pitches should be fast paced and exciting, horror pitches should be creepy, romantic comedies should be emotionally moving and funny, and so on.
Next post I’ll discuss some issues of presenting your pitch and how I prepare for that aspect of pitching.
Also, I’m giving a keynote at the SouthWest Writers Screen & Script Conference 2012 in Albuquerque on February 25th. If you’re interested in learning more, here’s the link: http://www.southwestwriters.com/conferences.php
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Best Written Films of 2011
It’s time for my annual “Best Written Movies” top 10 list. If you ask a group of screenwriters in any given year, they’ll generally say it was the worst year for movies in history. Screenwriters seem to love to be hypercritical. Of course, years later they may look back on that same year as a high water mark.
I try not to fall into that trap. That said, this seemed to be a pretty weak year for screenwriting. There are a bunch of movies that were enjoyable, but few that really wowed me. For the most part it seemed like we had to choose between interesting stories or quality craft – rarely were both found in the same film. Looking back at last year’s list, probably only two or three of this year’s movies would have cracked it. Still, I was able to come up with ten movies with reasonably good writing.
I have to give my usual disclaimers: This is the list of what I think are the best written movies, which is not the same as the movies I liked the best. Also, though I watch a lot of movies, I haven’t seen everything. So obviously if I didn’t see something it’s not on this list. And remember, this is my list… if you don’t like it you can make your own!
1. The Descendents (screenplay by Alexander Payne and Nat Faxon & Jim Rash) – Alexander Payne has the amazing ability to take subject matter that sounds dreary and bring out the humor and joy of life. His strength is charming, complex characters who feel completely real. The Descendents was an excellent, emotionally moving, thoroughly enjoyable movie.
2. The Adventures of Tintin (screenplay by Steven Moffat and Edgar Wright & Joe Cornish) – The one word review of this film: fun. It’s the most fun movie of the year and Spielberg’s most fun since Raiders of the Lost Ark. It’s not flawless – Tintin is pretty one dimensional, though Snowy and Captain Haddock compensate (in fact, it’s really more Haddock’s story than Tintin’s). And the set-up over relies on coincidences. But you’ll barely notice those problems because the imaginative set pieces and humor are so much fun.
3. Crazy, Stupid, Love (written by Dan Fogelman) – This is a surprisingly smart romantic comedy with complex characters, really funny character based humor, and great dialogue. And, it has the courage to be true to where the story wants to go. For example, the movie sticks with one subplot scene for an unusually long time because the interplay between the characters is interesting and important to the overall story. I wonder how many executives gave notes to shorten that scene? Both lighthearted and grown up – a rare combination.
4. The Help (screenplay by Tate Taylor) – I have to admit, this is a kind of movie I generally don’t like. But it really is fantastically executed. Again, dimensional characters help a lot. And they wisely found the subtle complexity hiding in the obvious social message. Southern racists are easy villains… much more interesting to show the shades of grey, the occasionally fine line between right and wrong, and the frailty that motivates prejudice. The characters, plot, dialogue and scenes are all top notch. And it also has a lot of humor – the spoonful of sugar to help the message go down.
5. Hugo (written by John Logan) – This movie is charming and imaginative. It is perhaps a little bloated, but most of what it’s bloated with is stuff I love, so I have a hard time complaining. There’s an extended pitch for film preservation, for example, that I can imagine might bore people who are not that into film history. And there is one chase scene that feels tacked on simply because we hadn’t had much action for a while. Overall, though, it’s a well-crafted story with lots of original scenes and a fair amount of emotional oomph.
6. Super 8 (written by J.J. Abrams) – Best first half of a movie of the year. Unfortunately the second half is a bit of a letdown. The strength is the young characters, who are both likeable and complex. And the concept is fantastic, especially the part about the kids making a zombie movie. I got the sense this was not just inspired by early Spielberg, as Abrams has said, but also from his own childhood. Unfortunately when it shifts into action/monster movie gear, it feels much less original and alive.
7. Midnight in Paris (written by Woody Allen) – Look, Woody can write witty dialogue. We know that by now. And his plots always make sense. Some of his movies sparkle, some less so. This one sparkles. But it’s also pretty lightweight (and a bit smug sometimes). Enjoyable but not vital.
8. Captain America (screenplay by Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely) – The best superhero movie of the year, and not exactly an easy character to pull off in this day and age. But Markus and McFeely overcome the challenges. There’s enough going on emotionally and thematically to make us care and the set pieces are well done. The biggest problems are that the Red Skull is not a very interesting villain and the climatic battle is the least exciting in the film. But it’s still a solid summer popcorn pic.
9. Drive (written by Hossein Amini) – The story is not particularly original, but it stands above the average indie thriller by avoiding many of the usual clichés, especially with the minor characters, and by giving the action scenes a strong sense of reality.
10. Bridesmaids (written by Kristen Wiig & Annie Mumolo) – This one troubles me. It would have been much higher if I’d just seen it in the theater where I found it fresh and funny. But I watched it again on DVD and (having already heard the jokes) noticed that the plot logic is shaky and some of the characters are rather thin. It points up a truth about comedy: laughter can hide many sins. It also reminds me that the experience of watching a movie – in a crowded theater or on TV at home – affects your perception. So is it a great script? No, not really. But it is fresh and there’s something interesting and a little dangerous about the Annie character that I admire. So it makes the list, barely. (I also want to note that I certainly appreciate the impact the movie has had on the business by proving that women can do R rated comedy. And I really hope that Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo write a lot more movies. I just hope all of them are better than Bridesmaids.)
Honorable Mention: The Future (written by Miranda July) – this is the most original movie I saw this year. And it’s funny and charming and interesting. It’s also unevenly paced and some of the scenes fall painfully flat. With Miranda July, you get her unique mind spilled out on screen and you have to take the good with the bad. So in a way this might be the best script of the year, but in another way it doesn’t crack my top ten. What are you gonna do… we’re talking about art.
And finally, my Worst Written Movie of the Year: Bad Teacher (written by Gene Stupnitsky & Lee Eisenberg) – Bad on every level. First of all, nothing the characters do makes any sense. From the trailer you might think Cameron Diaz’s Elizabeth wants a boob job because she thinks it will get her Justin Timberlake’s Scott. But in fact she decides she wants the boob job before she even meets him because her fiancée dumps her. His reason for dumping her? She’s a gold-digger. So how is getting a boob job going to solve that problem? And she actually succeeds in seducing Scott half way through the movie yet still wants the boob job for reasons never explained. It’s all just horribly contrived because, well, I guess boobs are supposed to be funny.
But it gets worse. Virtually every scene fails to live up to its promise. When Elizabeth agrees to go to a students’ house for Christmas dinner (why?) we expect a hilarious comic set piece. Instead we get a tedious scene free of jokes that leaves us wondering why it’s even in the movie. What’s really tragic is there’s a great movie lurking in here somewhere. The premise is fantastic and Diaz is perfectly cast. Unfortunately none of that matters when the writing is so bad.
So there you have it… let’s hope for a better year in 2012.
I try not to fall into that trap. That said, this seemed to be a pretty weak year for screenwriting. There are a bunch of movies that were enjoyable, but few that really wowed me. For the most part it seemed like we had to choose between interesting stories or quality craft – rarely were both found in the same film. Looking back at last year’s list, probably only two or three of this year’s movies would have cracked it. Still, I was able to come up with ten movies with reasonably good writing.
I have to give my usual disclaimers: This is the list of what I think are the best written movies, which is not the same as the movies I liked the best. Also, though I watch a lot of movies, I haven’t seen everything. So obviously if I didn’t see something it’s not on this list. And remember, this is my list… if you don’t like it you can make your own!
1. The Descendents (screenplay by Alexander Payne and Nat Faxon & Jim Rash) – Alexander Payne has the amazing ability to take subject matter that sounds dreary and bring out the humor and joy of life. His strength is charming, complex characters who feel completely real. The Descendents was an excellent, emotionally moving, thoroughly enjoyable movie.
2. The Adventures of Tintin (screenplay by Steven Moffat and Edgar Wright & Joe Cornish) – The one word review of this film: fun. It’s the most fun movie of the year and Spielberg’s most fun since Raiders of the Lost Ark. It’s not flawless – Tintin is pretty one dimensional, though Snowy and Captain Haddock compensate (in fact, it’s really more Haddock’s story than Tintin’s). And the set-up over relies on coincidences. But you’ll barely notice those problems because the imaginative set pieces and humor are so much fun.
3. Crazy, Stupid, Love (written by Dan Fogelman) – This is a surprisingly smart romantic comedy with complex characters, really funny character based humor, and great dialogue. And, it has the courage to be true to where the story wants to go. For example, the movie sticks with one subplot scene for an unusually long time because the interplay between the characters is interesting and important to the overall story. I wonder how many executives gave notes to shorten that scene? Both lighthearted and grown up – a rare combination.
4. The Help (screenplay by Tate Taylor) – I have to admit, this is a kind of movie I generally don’t like. But it really is fantastically executed. Again, dimensional characters help a lot. And they wisely found the subtle complexity hiding in the obvious social message. Southern racists are easy villains… much more interesting to show the shades of grey, the occasionally fine line between right and wrong, and the frailty that motivates prejudice. The characters, plot, dialogue and scenes are all top notch. And it also has a lot of humor – the spoonful of sugar to help the message go down.
5. Hugo (written by John Logan) – This movie is charming and imaginative. It is perhaps a little bloated, but most of what it’s bloated with is stuff I love, so I have a hard time complaining. There’s an extended pitch for film preservation, for example, that I can imagine might bore people who are not that into film history. And there is one chase scene that feels tacked on simply because we hadn’t had much action for a while. Overall, though, it’s a well-crafted story with lots of original scenes and a fair amount of emotional oomph.
6. Super 8 (written by J.J. Abrams) – Best first half of a movie of the year. Unfortunately the second half is a bit of a letdown. The strength is the young characters, who are both likeable and complex. And the concept is fantastic, especially the part about the kids making a zombie movie. I got the sense this was not just inspired by early Spielberg, as Abrams has said, but also from his own childhood. Unfortunately when it shifts into action/monster movie gear, it feels much less original and alive.
7. Midnight in Paris (written by Woody Allen) – Look, Woody can write witty dialogue. We know that by now. And his plots always make sense. Some of his movies sparkle, some less so. This one sparkles. But it’s also pretty lightweight (and a bit smug sometimes). Enjoyable but not vital.
8. Captain America (screenplay by Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely) – The best superhero movie of the year, and not exactly an easy character to pull off in this day and age. But Markus and McFeely overcome the challenges. There’s enough going on emotionally and thematically to make us care and the set pieces are well done. The biggest problems are that the Red Skull is not a very interesting villain and the climatic battle is the least exciting in the film. But it’s still a solid summer popcorn pic.
9. Drive (written by Hossein Amini) – The story is not particularly original, but it stands above the average indie thriller by avoiding many of the usual clichés, especially with the minor characters, and by giving the action scenes a strong sense of reality.
10. Bridesmaids (written by Kristen Wiig & Annie Mumolo) – This one troubles me. It would have been much higher if I’d just seen it in the theater where I found it fresh and funny. But I watched it again on DVD and (having already heard the jokes) noticed that the plot logic is shaky and some of the characters are rather thin. It points up a truth about comedy: laughter can hide many sins. It also reminds me that the experience of watching a movie – in a crowded theater or on TV at home – affects your perception. So is it a great script? No, not really. But it is fresh and there’s something interesting and a little dangerous about the Annie character that I admire. So it makes the list, barely. (I also want to note that I certainly appreciate the impact the movie has had on the business by proving that women can do R rated comedy. And I really hope that Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo write a lot more movies. I just hope all of them are better than Bridesmaids.)
Honorable Mention: The Future (written by Miranda July) – this is the most original movie I saw this year. And it’s funny and charming and interesting. It’s also unevenly paced and some of the scenes fall painfully flat. With Miranda July, you get her unique mind spilled out on screen and you have to take the good with the bad. So in a way this might be the best script of the year, but in another way it doesn’t crack my top ten. What are you gonna do… we’re talking about art.
And finally, my Worst Written Movie of the Year: Bad Teacher (written by Gene Stupnitsky & Lee Eisenberg) – Bad on every level. First of all, nothing the characters do makes any sense. From the trailer you might think Cameron Diaz’s Elizabeth wants a boob job because she thinks it will get her Justin Timberlake’s Scott. But in fact she decides she wants the boob job before she even meets him because her fiancée dumps her. His reason for dumping her? She’s a gold-digger. So how is getting a boob job going to solve that problem? And she actually succeeds in seducing Scott half way through the movie yet still wants the boob job for reasons never explained. It’s all just horribly contrived because, well, I guess boobs are supposed to be funny.
But it gets worse. Virtually every scene fails to live up to its promise. When Elizabeth agrees to go to a students’ house for Christmas dinner (why?) we expect a hilarious comic set piece. Instead we get a tedious scene free of jokes that leaves us wondering why it’s even in the movie. What’s really tragic is there’s a great movie lurking in here somewhere. The premise is fantastic and Diaz is perfectly cast. Unfortunately none of that matters when the writing is so bad.
So there you have it… let’s hope for a better year in 2012.
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