Thursday, December 09, 2004

The Horror x2

Got an email from the director the other day. He was checking in. I told him things were moving ahead, which they are. I'm working my way ever further up river, toward the Heart of Darkness (the 3rd Act). Right now I'm somewhere near the 60 page mark - the point where all the easy comforts of civilzation begin to recede into the dense, otherworldly fog. I'm losing sight of the riverbanks, and strange sounds are in the distance. Madness awaits. But In is the only way Out. So every day I go over to Brentwood to work out of the Office. And it's going well. I guess, really, I can't complain much. Everything is going sorta well. I'm doing my part, you know?

I keep having these fantasies about getting paid, and having meetings, and fielding offers, and finishing some OTHER fucking script instead of this one, which has been my only output in, like, four years. Fantasies, fantasies, fantasies. Freedom. Money. New York. Money. Comeraderie. New York. An Oscar nomination. Money.

We're still waiting on actors. No answer from Robbins, Spacek, Cooper, or Poitier. Any one of them would be good. Any amount of money would be good. Well, not ANY. Like, six figures.

Friday, December 03, 2004

The task at hand

Tuesday I met with the director for the last of the meetings devoted to parsing the particulars of his notes on Get Low. It went a good six hours and I left in a daze. Lots of information and scenarios and things that I didn't quite see how I could accomplish. I was in a shit mood afterward. I went to my ladyfriend's house later in the evening and found it difficult to do anything but sulk. But three days and one therapist's appointment later I'm feeling okay. The last two days I've been working out of The Office, a workspace in Brentwood that is a rip-off of the fantastic idea I had last year when bopping around Hollywood coffee shops doing a rewrite on a script: a place where you basically have everything you need to do your work, and you just pay as you go. You know, an office. So this guy beat me to the punch. Ah, well. I got bigger fish to fry.

I've begun the rewrites in earnest - although I'm dragging a bit today. There has been one somewhat major bit of work done on an early set of scenes, and I must admit that I feel good about them. I guess the irony of all my hemming and hawing and complaining and consternation is that ultimately, the words that go on the page are mine. So how much can I really bitch? I still get to create. And that is sort of what it's all about. I'm on pace right now: 30 pages in, although the majority of the challenging work is in the last third of the script, so there is a good chance that the inverse will occur: from 30 pages in 3 days to 3 pages in 30 days. Ah, c'est la guerre.

No actual news to report in terms of actors or money. Only thing that happened recently was that someone at CAA slipped the script to Sally Field, who immediately expressed interest.

As for other projects in the mix, the Cop Comedy TV pilot seems kind of DOA. It's gone around town and not lit anyone's fire. So maybe Matt and I are the only ones who thought it was funny. I guess that happens. The AC Jungle screenplay (once again, I'm afraid) is on indefinite hold as I endeavor to finish the Get Low rewrites. I'm going to miss another goddamn self-imposed deadline with that one. And from the department of Homeland Insanity, I'm gripped with an idea focussing on the JFK assassination and I've begun doing very rudimentary research. Why I think I've got the time or resourses to chase down a gargantuan idea like that, I have no idea. Oh, and I'm back to considering working on a novel, cuz, you know, those are a jif.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

It really is heavy

Met with the director yesterday. It was our first meeting to really sink our teeth into the notes. Met at 3:30 at his apartment. Nice place. Oscar prominently displayed. I picked it up. Oscar is heavy! We spread computer printouts of the scene headings (done on 3x5 cards) on his sleek modern coffee table and dug in. We talked a little back and forth and drank our Diet Cokes. Round about the second hour of this, I realized that I would have to talk to him next time about how we discussed notes. We (he) did a lot of jumping around from scene to scene, various places in the script, different scenes, different characters... sort of the Jackson Pollack approach - lay out the canvass and spatter all over the goddamn place. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but after two years of living with this script in my head, I am very much looking to just have the guy tell me where the words go. I'm long over the "subtext" and "metaphors" and "hidden meanings" of everything. You know, there is a time when you are, say, building a building when you talk about the meaning of it all, the beauty, the poetry of the form, the sanctity of the spaces, the allusions, and the themes, and the dynamics...and then there is a time when you order ten million bags of concrete and build the fucking thing. Well, that's where I'm at. Let's build the fucking thing. And I don't blame the guy for wanting to talk and talk and talk... He's still trying to see the movie in his head. I've seen the movie forty times. I want to start the grunt work. So tomorrow we get together again. And hopefully we'll get a better crack at 'er.

New names in the mix: Sissy Spacek and Sidney Poitier. Sindey Fucking Poitier.

Friday, November 12, 2004

Procrast Part Deux

This has been a quiet week in the life of yours truly, fringe-dweller of the Hollywood Good Life. I have returned to the rhythms of that rarest beast, the unemployed, underproductive writer. From 9am rise, to lunch with a friend across town, to 3pm coffeeshop run, to 6 o'clock gym stop... day in and day out the circle remains unbroken. Actually, I left my tennys at a friend's house, so the gym part is a fib. Also, smattered in there is actual work. The rest true.

I was offered a job this week, which I resoundingly passed on. More production work on some crapola cable thing. Money would be nice, but my hand was forced; this is the week Aaron (director) got back to me about how were going to do these notes of his. I'm both relieved and annoyed, since I'm trying very hard to work on something else - a spec, of course, so there's no money. (There's just no money. Ever. Whoever said "do what you love and the money will come" was a severly misguided individual. Probably an insane man in the park, or a tobbacco executive.) So Aaron and I are to meet next week at his apartment in my old neighborhood of West Hell.a., right around the corner from the last stand of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman. Ah, the metaphoric possibilities.

As for actual news to report, a big meeting was had with CAA yesterday (I wasn't there), and the official next offers going out on Get Low are to three very big name actors, all of whom you've heard of and all of whom I'm afraid of mentioning here for fear that I might somehow leak some bit of undisclosed business to the world and queer the deal. As soon as the thing happens, you'll know about the thing. In regards to the pilot, Matt and I finished a rewrite and it's now out to a few bigshots who's names I don't remember because they're behind the scenes guys. But hopefull we'll be rich soon. As soon as possible. Please, seriously. Not even rich. Just enough for a steaming bowl of pho every once in a while. I'm hooked on that crazy Vietnamese noodle soup!

Thursday, November 04, 2004

Four More Pages

I, like so many of my pinko commie friends, am recovering from the election results. That's all I'll say about it, other than I spent the better part of yesterday shopping, dicking around on the internet (no news sites), and driving around town in an attempt to salve my wounded soul. I even ended up back at the gym.

There, I found myself staring at one of those inspirational posters for the entire time I was on the cross-training contraption. It was Ghandi's quote, and it said "We must become the change we want to see." Now, I'm generally not all that much for the inspirational quote, but this one got to me. I haven't been to the gym in a while because of work. I haven't written much because of work. But ol' Ghandi has a point there. To put it in a professional context, nobody gonna finish my scripts except me.

So what then will I do? Well, I have been tinkering with a script for... oh... about three years now. It's 60 pages complete. I am going to look at it today. I mean buck up and get to it, you know? And I am going to kill myself to get it done by the new year. And as for Get Low, which by all rights should take top priority, this afternoon I will start circling it as a vulture would a dying prospector and see if I can't get back into the mood to work.

It's weird. I like writing. Writing is what I do well. And yet it's so freakin hard that I never really want to do it. Except I do. I don't know. I guess I'm a flip-flopper.

Thursday, October 28, 2004

Hollywoodspeak

The director returned from Berlin last Friday - he was shooting der cell phone kommercial. We spoke on Sunday about what (little) work I had accomplished during my week off from Carpocalypse. I gave him my notes and suggestions and he is fleshing out his thoughts so that when I'm done with the show for good (week after next) we can really get into the rewrites with gusto. Morgan Freeman passed. When I spoke to my manager I said, "So, he's out?" In a brilliant bit of spin, he replied,"He's not out, he's just not in."

During last week I did much work with Matt on the pilot. We involved my manager, told him to be ready to get the thing out asap. We worked last night and should be ready to send it out Monday. Hopefully the election won't last a week and people will get back to us soon. Also last week, began to get courted by a producer to do not one, but two adaptations. We'll see what shakes out. Hopefully, you know, ka-ching.

Friday, October 15, 2004

Blow it up. Blow it back to God.

I have now recovered from the meeting. It was a day and a half ago, but it's effects were still circulating through my system until about 2am this morning. We got together at 4:00pm on Wednesday and were there for three hours. I took notes the whole time. I spoke up once or twice, maybe more. I had a Diet Coke. I was doing my part to make minimal eye contact. Power play, I thought. Show my skepticism.

The substance of the meeting was that essentially he'd like to keep the characters, keep the settings, and keep the general "feel" of the script, but reimagine it over from the beginning. Basically blow it up, find all the little pieces and then put it back together. I like Aaron, I think he's a passionate, creative guy, and he obviously is very much invested in making this film, but as the scope of the workload washed over me - especially after birthing the thing for two long, difficult, unpaid years - I felt an urge to weep. And then I wanted to slap him. Not out of anger, just as a tension breaker, you know, to divert attention from my suffering. I left with one of those headaches right behind my eye and that made me terribly nauseous, and I drove home in a kind of crescent shape, slumped over the wheel.

I still haven't processed it all. For their part, the producers came across as sympathetic... but they still won't pay me, and they didn't exactly say not to do the work. Of course, I am not complaining - per se - (I'm aware this is my meal ticket, should the thing get made) I'm just sort of... I dunno... in awe of the realities of the process. Jesus.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Come to Jesus

This afternoon I am cutting out of work early to get to the Beverly Hills offices of The Zanuck Company for a meeting with all the principals. Not Duvall, of course, all the behind-the-scenes principals. There was much juggling as to when this meeting would happen, primarily becuase the director wanted he and I to sit down and work stuff out before we went in. Well, we haven't and I don't think that's a bad thing. We've involved Dean and Co. in developing the script the whole time (two years this week) and I don't see why he should be left out of the process now. I have to come heavy as they say in the mob world, because I have a feeling I'm gonna get knocked around a little. Director not happy, likely will lash out. Seems like a nice guy, though. I've only met him twice. Both times were notes meetings. How can you judge a guy that way? Second time he ordered a burger and fries and soup and two Dr. Brown's diet creme sodas. Anyway, we'll see what course the script takes after today's meeting of the five families. On the unmitigated good side, Morgan Freeman was personally called by Richard Zanuck yesterday. Details unknown. Also, Chris Cooper's name is once again being flung around. I think they are in hot pursuit.

Monday, October 11, 2004

Waiting for the Clampdown

Now I've done it. I sent a big long email to the involved parties about the notes the director and I discussed. It was seriously like a 5 page email. You know, I was just trying to hash it all out in my head. On paper. Email, I mean. Whatever. Point is they all woke up to a five page detailed email about my interpretation of the notes, which was not whiney. I would not say I whined. I would maybe say that I struck a note of mild panic. I mean, really, what we're looking at is not a rewrite, it's alchemy, it's cold fusion, it's turning plowshares into swords. In other words, it's not a polish, it's a revamp. Dean was the first to respond, saying he felt my pain and we'd hash it out. Then my manager. He just wants to be in the loop. He's in New York right now, so he's in the 3,000 loop. Nevertheless, the only person MIA is the director. Conspicuously absent through all of this, likely because I've lobbed a concussion grenade of the are-we-sure-we-want-to-open-up-the-patient-and-perform-major-surgery variety into his tent. Now he's scared we're all gonna gang up on him in the meeting. Which we probably will. Oh, yeah. Dean called a meeting for Thursday morning. This after my therapy session.

Friday, October 08, 2004

HUngover

This will no doubt disappoint the director, should he find out, but I don't think I'm up to doing any work today. I've just finally roused myself from a half-conscious morning of nausea, headache, and gastrointestinal distress. Let's face it, it is not because I'm marching in the storied parade of instrospective alcoholic writers, it's because I'm a 31 year-old man who can't hold is booze any longer. Plus I've been back on the No Carb bullshit for a week or so now, and last night's dinner of sausage didn't do much in the way of soaking up my six gin and tonics at a friend's birthday party. This morning my body revolted and forced me to eat a whole box of toaster waffles. They were whole wheat, but then again, I ate all six in the box. With butter and syrup. Only slightly less bad that, say, fried rice for breakfast.

As far as Get Low is concerned, I made a little progress yesterday and I'm hoping that by around 4 or so I'll be able to read through it and make some notes and think hard about all the changes, etc., etc. I can't express how hard it is to get excited about going back in and revisiting all those goddamn hillbillies yet again (especially feeling as I do). The key players are now talking about paying me - possibly out of pocket - to get cracking on the rewrites; it seems as though everyone is convinced that we are shooting a movie in March 2005. They don't want something as pedestrian as "freelance work" to interfere with the schedule. So, conceivably, I could finally get some dough. Also, I could be on a Hollywood movie set in less than six months. Me and Bob Duvall.

I think I need to go to the mall and just walk around in a coma. Yes. Coma. Consume.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

Finishing

It is a rare thing for a script to ever be finished. Get Low has been finished more times than I can count. I imagine work will continue on it up until they're checking the camera's gate for hair. Maybe the real milesone, apart from a screening, is finishing something for the first time. If so, Matt and I passed a milestone on the comedy pilot. After five or six month's work, we printed the 1st draft yesterday. We think it's funny. We think it's well done. We think we're living gods. You kind of have to think all these things when you've just finished something, you have to trick yourself into believing it will be loved and adored and you'll get thrown heaps of praise and big bags of money. Otherwise reality will crush you. Anyway, we changed the title, which is now officially "NYC Detectives: New York."

The rest of today will be spent going over notes from the director on Get Low. He's so anxious to getting me writing (and off Carpocalypse) that he's had a conversation with Dean Zanuck about paying me. THAT would be something. Being paid to finish the script.

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

A day off...

So my writing partner Matt is on his way over - actually there's a good chance he'll interrupt this. We're setting about to finish the pilot he and I have been working on for six months. I have to say, he did the lion's share of the revision work, and by that I mean that once we realized five months of our work was shit, he went in and rewrote evertything all over again. I was tied up working as a writer/producer on "Carpocalypse," a reality show about redneck demolition derby drivers that will air on Spike TV in the next couple of months (check local listings!). Anyway, Matt really picked up the ball that I, as half the writing team, dropped. Today we're punching it up and hoping to put it to bed. By Friday, my manager will have it, and next week we'll all sit down and see what kind of strategy we want to adopt to "get it out there." It's a comedy by the way.

On the Get Low front, had a long conversation with the director Aaron yesterday. I broke his Farmer's Market cherry, which was my pleasure; it was done to me, and I have no problem passing along the favor, I only regret the Beverly Hills Art League and all the old ladies' paintings are gone. Nontheless, we spoke for a few hours about changes to the script. They are hefty, but the more I think about them - dammit - he's right. They ultimately will make for a better finished product. We talked a lot about Morgan Freeman. He's the Holy Grail of this project right now. We get him, we dance. Aaron had a whole packet of casting suggestions that William Morris, his agency, put together. It was impressive. The binding, I mean. Impressive to see my work covered in a legitimate and well-known agency's blue cardstock script binding. It really is the little things.


** for those who may or may not know about this stuff, the pilot is a cop half-hour comedy. Get Low is the screenplay I wrote about the old hermit who asks to have his funeral preached. The Zanuck Company will produce, Aaron Schneider will direct, and Robert Duvall (and hopefully Morgan) will star.

Monday, October 04, 2004

Why not?

Now that I've got some things happening in my life that might deemed "interesting" or "informative" or "cool" I thought I'd jot down the occasional thought every now and again. What can I say? I'm sqaurely stuck in a generation that is in love with itself and its ability to record every banal moment for a future generation. Why fight it? This is the first in what will be a series of entries about my adventures in Showbizwood.

Anyway, this is just the warning shot. Look for more soon.