
Getting a film made
You have to remember that the money-making is what the film business is about. The ‘deal’ is the real product and the movie is a sort of incidental by-product of the deal … “
Alexander Mackendrick
Screenplays are not literary documents but invitations to collaboration. Though you originate the process, you end up one of its least powerful members”.
Charles Deemer, Practical Screenwriting.
If the scriptwriter is the ‘sole original artist’ involved in the making of a film (see “The Role of The Screenwriter“), then he or she is still also only an instigator of a complicated, fraught and frequently difficult journey towards an end goal: the production of the film itself.
Reading about the tortuous processes that went on behind the scenes during the production of even some very successful movies is educational; rarely indeed do things go smoothly, and often it’s a white knuckle ride for all concerned in which success is achieved at considerable cost and compromise. In fact, it makes you wonder how any films get made with the odds stacked so much against them.
You need to constantly keep in mind that the film industry is a business where (often huge) sums of money are gambled on the prospect of having a success. The chief concern of investors is understandably therefore to see a return on their investment.
Their problem though, as William Goldman says, is: nobody knows what sells. The ‘sure-fire’ blockbuster sequel bombs horribly at the box-office whilst the small independent film cleans up — and wins Oscars. It’s a familiar story but it doesn’t stop those with vested interests from chasing after a ‘recipe’ they think will guarantee a hit.
When you write a script, it’s like delivering a great big beautiful plain pizza, the one with only cheese and tomatoes. And then you give it to the director, and the director says, “ I love this pizza. I am willing to commit to this pizza. But I really think this pizza should have mushrooms on it ” …then someone else comes along and says, “ I love this pizza, too, but it really needs green peppers ” … then someone else says, “ Anchovies.” There’s always a fight over the anchovies. And when you get done, what you have is a pizza with everything. Sometimes it’s wonderful. And sometimes you look at it and you think, I knew we shouldn’t have put the green peppers onto it. Why didn’t I say so at the time? Why didn’t I lie down in traffic to prevent anyone’s putting green peppers onto the pizza?
Nora Ephron in the introduction to “When Harry Met Sally”
Readers and rejections
Film-making is like spermatozoa. Only one in a million makes it.”
Claude Lelouch, Film Yearbook 1985
Getting it read
The first hurdle for a screenwriter submitting to a film production company is the person with the job of reading and assessing their script. For a writer with no previous credits or without an ‘inside connection’, that first reader is likely to be someone low down the food chain: a junior script-editor or a free-lancer, often a would-be screenwriter themselves. They are paid to sort through piles of submissions and identify those with promise.
Newsflash – this is not the world’s most fulfilling job. Readers are often poorly paid and the standard of submitted work generally varies between dismal and downright unreadable (believe it or not, a lot of people out there still suffer from the delusion that screenwriting is easy and something anyone can do).
No wonder readers get into the frame of mind where they’re looking for any excuse to add your script to the reject pile, simply so they can move onto the next one and make their quota.
(You, of course, are confident that the diamond-like quality of your talent will easily distinguish itself from the dross surrounding it … may you be right about that).
If your script has successfully passed through this vetting procedure, it might eventually reach the desk of someone with the authority to give it proper consideration. Many scripts get no further than this. If you’re lucky, you may get useful feedback but quite often you’ll be left with no idea why your script was rejected.
It might simply be that it wasn’t ‘good enough’. But it may equally be any number of reasons that have nothing to do with the actual quality of the script: your subject, your genre, the market for it, or even your reader’s personal prejudice.
If you still believe in your script, now is not the time to give up. The fact is that you still haven’t found the person who shares your vision, who is willing to become that first essential collaborator you need in bringing that vision to life. That is the kind of reader you want and your initial quest is to find them.
Writing a script often feels like planning a wedding. You have to plan for success, for it to be the most spectacular and amazing event. You have to think of every detail so that nothing goes wrong. But, at the end of the day, you have no guarantee that the bride will actually show up.
And welcome to (development) hell …
Working as a screenwriter I always thought that “Film is a collaborative business” only constituted half the actual phrase. From a screenwriter’s point of view, the correct rendering should be, “Film is a collaborative business: bend over.”
David Mamet, “Film is a collaborative business,” 1989
A film is a carnival of opinion, and if your view is to survive, you need the skills of an advocate. Screenwriting is more lawyering than writing.”
David Hare, The Guardian 2017
Mamet’s comment is cynical and amusing but it also reflects the reality of many screenwriter’s experiences at the more commercial end of the industry: a script is accepted by a production company but the poor writer is then given the task of endless re-writes to satisfy his paymasters.
This task, known as ‘development hell’, can go on, sometimes for years, without the film ever being made.
To make matters worse, during this time, the director and stars who were originally signed up will often drop out and be replaced by others who will then demand fresh re-writes or want to assign another writer to the project. Seeing a long list of writing credits at the end of a film is a good sign that its development was not without problems.
Damned if you do …
The problem, as Mamet perceptively identifies, is that scriptwriters who are too obliging eventually lose the respect of the producers who hired them. It might easily seem like a no-win situation: if you aren’t flexible, or if you are, you can be equally in trouble.
(Perhaps the answer is to identify and then defend to the death what William Goldman calls the ‘spine’ of your story; what you regard as most integral to what you wrote – but only you know where that line can be drawn.)
Film is 24 lies per second at the service of truth, or at the service of the attempt to find the truth”
Michael Haneke
The Film-makers
At the end of your quest are the professionals you are entrusting with the task of interpreting your script. Successful collaboration means working in a flexible and receptive way towards a common goal. Your script should provide that. In the best of all worlds, each of them will have something to contribute from their own skills and talents that will enhance what you have written, that will add to it in unexpected ways.
You need to keep these people constantly in mind when you write because it’s your words that will guide and influence them when they make any number of independent decisions in the course of getting your script onto film.
This applies as much to the technicians as it does to the artists involved in the production. In addition, there are three people who bear a special responsibility for how the film will turn out, a triumvirate that makes all the most important decisions:
The Director is obviously an important role, someone who supposedly has the final say on all matters of interpretation and who orchestrates and manages everything that happens on the set. But the director relies heavily on two other people to execute his or her ideas at the practical level; without harnessing their unique skills with his own, he wouldn’t be able to bring his vision to life.
The Cinematographer, or Director of Photography (D.O.P), controls every aspect of the filming itself; from the placement of cameras to the lighting, from the choice of film-stock to the use of camera lens. The eventual ‘look’ of the film and its prevailing atmosphere depend upon the talents of the D.O.P. and famous directors will often use the same one for every film they make.
The Film Editor is the final member of the team. Although he or she (a sizeable number are women) doesn’t get involved until the post-production period, their input is crucial. Editing can’t make a bad film into a good one but skilful editing can significantly improve any film. An editor takes raw footage and gives it shape; adding pace and rhythm, bringing the drama alive. If that rhythm and drama are evident on the page, the director will help the editor to find it.
You’ve seen the movie, now read the poster …
© David Clough 2010