Working with Directors – A Screenwriter’s Perspective

(This article originally appeared on http://soyouwanttobeadirector.blogspot.com.au/)

Unlike short film scripts, every single feature screenplay I am currently working on has a director attached. Why? From my perspective it is the single most important collaborative relationship I have. Feature scripts are notoriously hard to get right at the best of times; done in isolation, almost impossible. A healthy creative relationship between a writer and a director can elevate the material, eliminate lazy choices, enhance the visual style of the writing and, most importantly, put the story and characters through the blowtorch.

Yes, often there should be creative friction between writer and director as the ultimate and only goal is to develop the best possible screenplay to make the best possible movie. That’s why it’s critical to choose wisely when working with a director (and vice versa). Ego cannot be a factor. It should be a relationship based on equality and mutual respect. I would also add words like integrity and a shared storytelling sensibility. It also helps if you genuinely like the person as you’re going to spend a lot of time over the course of many drafts working together.

I am fortunate enough now to have a circle of directors who fit this description. But this has been through, in many ways, a process of elimination and finding my own voice. Yes, I’ve been burnt before. Perhaps that’s part of the learning process.

Understanding storytelling styles is critical – I have one director I will go to with thrillers and politically coloured fare whereas there is another who would be my first choice for science fiction or fantasy/supernatural. That’s not to say each wouldn’t be able to do the other style, just that I know what they normally gravitate to. You’re looking for a shared vision and passion for the project as that will get you through the (inevitable) doldrums of development hell.

Directors also have very different styles when developing a script. Some will be very meticulous in their notes and feedback; others more into broad brushstrokes and issues of tone. While I have to stay true to my task of writing the best possible script, I also have to accommodate those different styles. So being flexible is important even though I will always fight for what is important to the narrative spine and/or the integrity/credibility of the characters. If requested changes don’t compromise those elements then I’ll always try and accommodate the director.

For example, in a scene that introduced the female lead of a feature I had her playing netball. The scene was about how she played and how she interacted with her teammates – establishing character traits. The director’s reaction was words to the effect of, “I’m not shooting that. It would be in a big hall under fluoros and look crap.” It was changed to an outdoor hockey arena at night under light towers. From my perspective it didn’t change the intent of the scene one bit and the director was happy. He was also right - it would look more visually interesting.

Once you ‘click’ with a director you can pretty much determine how they like scenes laid out and what is likely to work or not. They also perform a vital function – the bullshit detector. I know when I’m “cheating” in a scene or a sequence but sometimes I have to be called on it; same with those scenes you fall in love with but might not actually fit - due to pacing, tone, thematically, or just a dud beat. Sometimes you try things that simply don’t work. When your head is buried in all the complexity of a script it’s vital to have a critical, objective voice.

So what do I hate when working with a director? “I don’t know what I want but I’ll know it when I see it.” As a writer this drives me off the charts crazy. I don’t know how to write to that. Nor directors who give you a shopping list of things they don’t want or have only the vaguest of ideas. I’m looking for an “in” to a story and the more concrete the triggers the better. If you leave me to my own devices the danger is I’ll go off on tangents and explore what I’m currently in need of therapy for. (Okay, not true… but close!) I also dislike directors who are into “hierarchy” and/or exhibit diva behaviour. I simply don’t have the time or energy. Also, don’t be vague with notes or bullshit me. I need honest, objective feedback to make the writing and the script better. Take the time to do this. It helps the writer and ultimately reduces problem solving on set. Don’t take creative arguments personally – this isn’t about personalities it’s only about the work.

Many of you will no doubt be writer-directors so you’re trying to fulfil both roles which I would argue is well-nigh impossible to do to the same extent. In this case please make sure, with your writer hat on, you find someone who can perform the role of the objective voice that pushes you to make your script better. The director in you will be thankful, I promise!

Richard Hyde
Screenwriter

It’s All About The Collaboration, Stupid!

INT. DARKENED ROOM – NIGHT

A FIGURE sits cross legged on the grimy floor, hunched over a keyboard. Hands peck at the keys with two-fingered urgency. A constant stream of indecipherable babble accompanies the keystrokes
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Around the figure are strewn the remnants of screenwriting manuals – McKee, Field, Snyder, Goldman – they’re all there. Along with pile upon pile of dog-eared screenplays.

Thousands upon thousand of words that will never see the light of day…

The door shatters and in burst Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman, guns drawn. They survey the mess and take stock of this John Doe, this pitiful screenwriter who hasn’t even moved as he cackles at his own literary genius…

Okay, so not all screenwriters are crazy people who hide in darkened rooms creating their masterpieces. Some of us occasionally write outdoors.

My point is this, until that door bursts open and someone else enters the scene, notably a producer and a director, your words are going nowhere real fast.

And the moment that happens there is one essential truth you must understand and embrace – THOSE WORDS WILL CHANGE.

They have to. Otherwise they will end up like the hundreds of notebooks in John Doe’s apartment in Se7en – morbid curiosities and keepsakes. 

Yes, I’m talking about collaboration, the essential component of being a screenwriter. There really is no room for ego – okay, that’s not true, we all have egos and we fight for our stories tooth and nail when someone wants to hurt one of our babies. I’m talking about the “this is the best thing since [insert best thing ever of choice] and you cannot change a single word or I’ll [insert description of imagined physical acts of violence]” kind of ego that only limits your script.

Thing is, if you’re lucky, you get to work with really smart people who will help make your words better.

LET THEM!

Sure, you’ll have battles, the odd argument, and knock down drag down slanging matches occasionally but the goal MUST ALWAYS BE to make the project the best it can be. If that’s not your end point; if your ego can’t handle that, than what the hell are you doing being a screenwriter?

Which brings me to the short script I’ve written which is now listed as “Sixth Draft, Fourth Revision” and commences shooting this Friday some 11 months after its inception.

Inception is actually a pretty apt word because this entire project has been an exercise in collaboration from the get go:

The story evolved from two, unrelated improvised scenes from actors at a youth film school.

Once I worked out the link between those two scenes, one of which clearly suggested a back story and a possible climax/resolution, the structure quickly fell into place. Three drafts were written then I stopped because I knew there was no point continuing to make changes until a director was attached.

When a director came on board the inevitable happened – he had a different idea for the ending and wanted to take out two characters.

The first I was a little leery of because it changed the tone of the story but we talked it through and I incorporated the idea into subsequent drafts. Removing the two male characters? I had tried to service as many roles as I thought the story could hold given the rationale for the entire process was to provide opportunities for the youth film school actors. But being a well known ‘serial killer’ those two characters swiftly felt the sting of my backspace bar.

Most of all, none of these changes affected the STRUCTURE. That would have been something I’d have dug my heels in to protect so we were fine. By the sixth draft the story was all there and working well. Now came the fine detail. Or, as the writer might put it, the pedantic whims of the director; or as the director might put it, tidying up of the writer’s excesses! Yes, there was plenty of banter back and forth as we argued over individual beats, lines of dialogue and occasionally even specific words! 

Hence the revision numbers. If there are major changes to a script I will use a new draft number. If it is minor alterations or a polish I call it a revision of the current draft number.

It’s a continuing evolution though:

I sat in on the auditions for the four female roles. Watched as the director played around with scenes and slight changes came out of that process.

Then a read through/workshop with the selected cast just before Christmas where again revelations were made as the material was worked by the actors and director.

Finally, two rehearsal sessions in the last week where the entire script was put through its paces with some rudimentary blocking and tweaks to dialogue.

It’s amazing what you discover when you are reading your own big print and you can hear the repetitive use of certain words; an overuse of adverbs and stumble over inelegant phrasing.

The actors also help point out dialogue that isn’t sitting well or clunky parts that may have been lost in the early revisions as we stripped lines out only to go back and tinker with additions later.

While I can clearly see the entire film in my head (hurry the day when they can plug a digital projector into a screenwriter's brain stem!), observing the physicality of the performances helps with the 'geography' within a scene and refining the order of beats. Especially in this script where the climax is quite long and has many moving parts that all have to hit home in the right order to work effectively.  

This is all very useful to me as the writer. Again, the only goal is to make the project as good as it can be. For example, you swallow your ego when an actor voices a concern about whether a line you have written may come across as “corny” and let them explore other ways of saying it. No skin off my nose if it helps make the scene play better.

Now I wait to hear if I can change the Title Page to those magic two words: Shooting Script.

Even then, with a 5 day shoot scheduled commencing this Friday, I know there will still be changes to be made dictated by a variety of factors from locations to things that nobody can possibly foresee at the moment. The unpredictably of filmmaking!

Thank you to all the people over the last 11 months who have made this such a pleasurable experience. My work is largely done so now I let the actors and crew do their thing and make the words we have toiled so hard over come to life. I very much look forward to seeing the result. 

The Year in Rear View

2010 - what a year you have been! From being made redundant; to the suicide in the unit next door; to participating in Feature Navigator; to flaming out in screenwriting competitions; to a misdiagnosed heart scare; to having potentially three feature scripts in play for next year; it has been a rollercoaster year.

What have I learnt?

Don't send a script out too early!

I had some positive feedback on one script, and while it was shortlisted in the Bill Warnock Award, it tanked in a couple of US screenwriting competitions and an AWGIE category. That sort of rejection can be a little soul destroying! Simply, it wasn't ready.

Be persistent!

While that script didn't do anything - and I was told by one writer to drop it altogether - I took on board the feedback and did a rewrite that streamlined and simplified the story. That draft was selected for Feature Navigator where it had a very positive reception. Two months on, there has been a page one rewrite and it's only getting better.

Confidence is everything!

The reason I put that script out is I finally found a voice in the local funding body that supports my writing. That has lead me to other allies - a script consultant in the US - who I hopefully will work with again next year - and other experts from overseas. Along with my key collaborators, this sort of positive reinforcement is invaluable when you're slogging through rewrites.

Take the meeting!

An email query from a director new to Perth with an interesting CV and slate of projects came with the seal of approval from a person whose opinion I respect. So I took the meeting. Out of that unexpected encounter we are now working on one of my older scripts (that I used as a writing sample) and likely to work on a brand new idea in 2011.

Never toss anything!

The above is one script from the bottom drawer. Another has found favour with my TRB director when he finally read it - after like two years - and liked it. We will discuss further in the new year but he already has asked to send it to a local producer and an actor maybe on the cusp of big things in the US. Rewrites beckon but nothing should ever go to waste. All it takes is one person who loves it who wants to fight for it to get made.

Rewriting is mandatory!

This is the hardest but most rewarding part. Scripts evolve and mutate, grow and slowly take shape. In Hollywood they spend dollars, time and writers developing scripts. Here, things can tend to be rushed into production before they're ready. It can be a slog, no doubt. But getting the script right is critical.

Do the damn notes!

I've always hated writer's notes for funding submissions - "tell me everything you forgot to do in the last draft that if you had remembered (or known) you would have done". Luckily, I sat on a couple of panels during the year and saw the level of detail some writers provide to support their script. The light bulb finally went on - it's so competitive that the supporting documents are critical. Take the time to do them right.

On the personal front, I never thought I would be made redundant from my 'day job'. It stings the ego and the way it was done really jarred. You realise you're just a number not a valued employee, even after 21 years. I haven't been looking for a 'real job' so the acid is on to make a fist of the writing. Kind of scary and liberating at the same time. It means I have time to work on scripts and meet deadlines. I don't ever want to go back to an office if I can avoid it.

As for the health scare and the suicide, those things showed me there are more important things than petty grievances and whinges, gossip and controversy - of which there has been plenty in the local Perth film-making scene of late. I try and stay away from all that and do my own thing with the people I want to collaborate with who I trust and respect. It's taken a long while but I am happy with the circle of creative people around me.

I look back at 2010 as a year where the foundation for 2011 and beyond was erected - renewed confidence in my ability, new contacts and collaborators, old scripts resurrected with current ones born anew.

So here's to a safe and happy festive season and a creative new year!

Collective promotion

This looks to be an interesting venture - 12 actors joining forces to promote themselves locally but with international ambitions. I know one of the actors personally, a few by name only, but you have to admire their gumption. The website looks pretty good and I like the mission ("To create opportunities for Western Australian based-actors to hone their craft and showcase their individual talents within Australia, and abroad") and Aim "to develop and draw upon local talent wherever possible, and to lead by example in all aspects of being an actor in a truthful and honest manner." It will be interesting to see what the result is.

Can you imagine a group of screenwriters doing this? I mean, why not? Apart from our notoriously insular nature, would there be benefits to be gained by joint promotion? I am always looking for like minded writers (storytelling style and genres) and/or people who can stretch me but it's not such an easy task. Some writers still seem scared that people will steal their ideas (puhlease), or aren't confident enough to share their work, or have other agendas I don't really care to understand. Sure, there's the Writers' Guild and the occasional writers support group but we don't seem to really have a sense of community. Leastways not in Perth.

One of the joys of the online course, is that I have a detailed appreciation of two other local writers' scripts. One is a close cousin of mine, the other a completely different genre. As we rewrite and develop our projects there is continuous feedback and insight. Hopefully that will continue after the course finishes. But ultimately, I guess, we go our separate ways to get our scripts financed and made. So good luck to Scene Actors 12 - who knows, maybe some or all of them will end up in a script written by yours truly!

Isolation in Writing

Welcome to Perth, the capital of sunny Western Australia. We're brought up with the knowledge that ours is the most isolated capital city in the world. It's cheaper and easier to get to Bali, Indonesia than it is to travel to Sydney.

But that's not the kind of isolation I'm talking about.

Nor is the isolation all writers are familiar with - the solitary duty in their Goldman-esque pit creating magic for the screen, big or small.

No, this is more a sense of belonging that I'm yearning for ... and the realisation that maybe I'm never going to find it in our sleepy little part of the film-making world. Perth is perhaps best known for documentaries and children's television with the occasional low budget feature. And by low budget I mean 1-2 million dollars. There also appears to be a noisy and thriving no-budget scene happening ... and maybe that's my problem. Everything feels so ... small ... and slapdash ... and sometimes downright amateurish.

I guess I applaud the effort, it just feels somehow so ... ill-directed. And the thing that seems to suffer most in this rush to get anything "in the can" is the script. Lots of "director-writers" where the second part of the hyphenate is a dubious assertion at best. Of course, there are exceptions but they are rare.

There is also an angry, restless energy to these generally younger film-makers that I find quite negative and often naive. Many a strident argument has recently broken out in various social media formats about the industry and that hoary old chestnut of art versus business. In response, I have started to withdraw from the local 'scene' and eliminate those voices that distract and detract from what I want to focus on. That's where the isolation comes in.

I'm looking for people who can help me be a better screenwriter. The reality is, there are precious few people in my hometown who can do that. My writing sensibility is not an Australian archetype but far more geared towards the classic Hollywood storytelling model. Hence my increasing interest in US blogs/podcasts and excitement at the upcoming course with Paul Chitlik (whose book I will read over the Easter break). Added to this is the presence of a couple of 'newcomers' to the Perth scene with US experience who I "get" when we talk about film and screenwriting.

The question ultimately will be, can I survive and thrive in this sort of isolation or will I need to find a better writing environment? I enjoy the collaborative side of brainstorming and story sessions but there's really only a few people here who understand (and appreciate?) me as a writer. Will that be enough? I have resisted joining the populist network that's been set up for all local film-makers as it appears more social than professional but a strong support network is important for any writer.

Perhaps I need to delve back into my pit and not worry about such things ... maybe I need to cherish and be thankful for the small band of people whose opinions and talent I respect without craving more. Perhaps being an 'outsider' is not such a bad thing. I guess only time will tell ...

The Chinese Opera Principle

Before you all mutter, "I thought you weren't going to espouse screenwriting theory in your blog, Richard" (as discussed here), let me preface my remarks.

One of my favourite movies is Amadeus. Wonderful performances, great story and the glorious music of a bona fide genius. Plus those [insert gushing adjective here] set piece scenes from Mozart's operas - the ballet from The Marriage of Figaro, Don Giovanni, The Magic Flute - all used as integral parts of the story - respectively, the politics between the Italians, Mozart and the Emperor; the catalyst for Salieri's terrible plan when he sees Mozart haunted from the grave by his father; Mozart's descent into madness and ill health.

The Red Bride incorporates Chinese culture and mythology ... sooooooo ... why not sneak in a funky east meets west homage to one of my favourite movies by including a little Chinese opera? There's even a lovely visual - the first few rows are left vacant during the Hungry Ghost Festival so that the spirits can enjoy the show. Add some texture by staging an opera sequence that reflects the narrative and you have a nice filmic moment that adds colour and spice, right?

Yes! ... except the director, Chris, HATES the idea.

Now, one of the things I love about writing is the collaborative stuff - story meetings, brainstorming, long creative sessions with whiteboards and coffee. But at the end of the day there needs to be a consensus.

Of course, this didn't stop me from dropping in "the Chinese Opera sequence" in every draft, moving it around, typically in the second act and hoping it would "get past the keeper" (to use an Australian expression).

But Chris would hone in on it every time like a cruise missile in a target rich environment. We'd "debate", I'd lose, on to the next pass. I'd sneak it back in, he'd brandish the metaphorical red pen, on to the next clandestine attempt and so on ...

It has now dropped out of the script but it is a long-standing joke between us (I'm sure, to the producers' bemusement). This has all been done in an amiable way. Why? It does not impact the narrative spine. Some of you will ask, why bother? To me it's a moment to let the film breathe in a way that is visually interesting and culturally relevant. Chris is strict about not wanting to, as he terms it, "exotic-ise" the cultural aspects.

So The Chinese Opera Principle is my code for the necessary compromises you make as part of a collaborative medium. I'm lucky in many ways, as I have Chris, Jocelyn and David to bounce off and incorporate their views during the drafting process. However, if it had been an issue that I thought damaged the narrative spine then I would "go into bat" (another Aussie phrase). But as most screenwriters know - you need to pick your battles carefully ...