So close, yet so...so... so... far away...

I’ve lived in Los Angeles for over five years and it may surprise you that I’ve never hiked up to the Hollywood Sign. I’m not a hiker although I’ve always thought about doing it more often because it’s so good for you and so goddam fun, right? But it’s more work than stepping out your front door and just running. You have to research the trail, look up how to get there, drive there and then walk endlessly up and down hills under the hot sun. Oh and carry water and granola and wear sunscreen and hats and special socks and protective Chapstick. This past Friday it occurred to me to go ahead and get it over with and I drove down Franklin to Beechwood Drive to get to the Hollyridge trail.

First, OMG the houses on Beechwood. Second, OMfuckingG the houses on Beechwood.  Third, that’s the one thing about living in Los Angeles that I hate the most.  Envying what others have.  It will poison your body from head to toe.  Other than fear, it is what drives people in this town. Envy.  Envy will make you forget who you are.

I arrived at the trail and had no problem finding parking.  I decided my water bottle was too heavy and burdensome to carry with me and that I would be okay without water. It wasn’t that hot and it was highly unlikely I’d end up like Sally Menke.  Now that I think about it, she probably thought the same thing.  A couple of German tourists asked me how you got to the Hollywood Sign.  I pointed at a sign that said “Hollywood Sign That Way” and said “that way three miles up.”  A dude that was sitting inside his car said “Are you serious? Three miles?”  I told him that the website I checked said it was a three mile hike.  He asked me if there was another way to get there.  I shrugged I don’t know thinking what a lazy ass that dude was and got on my way.

I got hot right away and wondered if I should go back and get the water bottle. I didn’t.  I just kept on going while tourists on horseback passed by me.  Looking at so much horse ass made me realize how wrong it is for humans to use horses for work and recreation.  I used to ride in another lifetime and up until that day, I really missed it.  I know, that’s a very PETA view from someone who used to jump fences wearing a fancy, red tailored jacket, but we all have the capacity to change, don’t we?

I swore I would never take a picture of a rock. Well, here it is. A stupid rock. I think I was just nervous and scared there was no one around.

I kept on going and saw The Valley.  It doesn't look any better from far away. I noticed that you wouldn’t have any problem shooting on this side of the hill. I didn’t see one single person or horse. It’s a perfect location for the slasher genre and I started to write the script in my head.  Then, paranoia and fear set in.  I moved away from the bushes.

When I got to this water tower my imagination took over. Would they ever find my body if I got murdered up here?  You see, I'm pretty stupid about these things. I never think the worst until I'm deep in it.  I didn't really care if I put myself in danger before I got my dog.  My death would never have affected anyone until now.  It would take a while for people to notice that I was gone because it was the weekend and while my body decomposed behind a bush my poor pooch would be at home starving.  It never crossed my mind that hiking alone would be dangerous.  Still, I thought I was on the right track and decided to continue on my quest when...

...I turned around and saw the view below.  The Hollywood sign is in front of that tower.  Okay, so maybe I wasn't on the right path after all.  I turned around and went downhill back to where I came from.

I finally encountered some more horseshit and felt relieved.  The fact that I didn't see any on the path where I wandered off to should have been a signal that I was on the wrong track.

This is where I should have u-turned and gone up the hill, instead of going straight around the hills.  I looked at the clock. I had been hiking for 1.75 hours.  I was tired, hot and very hungry.  Still, I went up to investigate, saw that the Hollywood Sign was still very far away, and turned around.

After another 15 minutes, there it was and there were the tourists taking photos.  I felt like a failure and I was craving red meat and I was cranky and fuck it.

This is how I celebrate failure: with a meal from Mexico City in Los Feliz.



My ass is still sore three days later but at least I got a good workout.  I'll try to climb up to the sign next weekend. If I don't have anything better to do.

Pass This Bitches!--The Reader, Friend or Foe?

This past Saturday I was fortunate enough to attend a very informative workshop with Julie Gray while attending the Broad Humor Film Festival.  The topic was: The World of Readers.  I know what you're thinking. Who gives a shit?  I thought it for a second too.  But quickly I realized how this knowledge would help me get an edge over the rest.

Julie started by describing the conditions under which our scripts are read. There's a hierarchy in the world of readers.  When they start out, they have to read for crappy companies and work their way up.  On average, they get paid $60 a script.  That means they have to read 3-4 scripts a day to make a living.  Although some companies are distributing scripts via e-mail, a lot are still very protective and will only use hard copies.  This means the readers have to drive all over town to pick up scripts and they don’t get reimbursed for mileage.  If they get a call and they turn down a screenplay, they risk not being called again, so the successful readers never turn down work.  Also, they get no benefits and no health or dental insurance. 

You have to assume they’re not reading your script at 9:00 a.m. with a delicious cup of coffee, but at 11:00 p.m. with a toothache, (remember, no dental insurance) and still two more scripts to go.  The first thing they do is turn to the last page to see how long it is.  If it’s more than 110 pages, you’ve started really badly.  Next, they read the title, which sets the mood.  Then, they dump the brads in a bucket and start speed reading.  They just read and do not think.  If problems that start to come up, they start to think and that slows down the read.

They have to read the whole script so that others don’t have to. Readers can only afford devote 2.5 hours to covering a script.  It takes them about an hour to read and the rest for writing the coverage.  Coverage is basically 2-3 pages of synopsis and 1.5 pages of comments and notes.  If the synopsis is dull, guess what else was dull?  Yup. Our script.  And dull makes the readers very, very cranky.

Their world is a mine field.  There are politics involved and they do have to read a lot of crappy fluff because of who's attached.  However, honest, objective readers succeed and are willing to risk their jobs for a great script.  Julie reiterated that readers love nothing more than reading a great script.  If they come across a RECOMMEND, they call a 24/7 phone number.  That’s the executive’s number.  The response is always: “Great. Now thanks to you I have to read this weekend.” But they're willing to duke it out and defend the script.

Basically, it’s up to us to make either friends or enemies from readers.  It’s on you to make it easier on yourself, and Julie was kind enough to tell us how.

Top Ten (Actually Eleven) Reader Hates

11.  Script is too long.  This means it’s over 120 pages and it signals that the writer does not have control over her story.  Writers should try to hit the 100-110 sweet spot.  Comedy and horror scripts should be around 100 pages. Minimum page count is 90 pages.  "But so and so's script won an Oscar and it was 160 pages--"  You're not so and so and that's an exception.  Again, do you want to make it easier on yourself or not?

10.  Sending weird shit with the script. Yes, as bizarre as it sounds, people do that. It makes you look like an amateur. Resist all temptation to send the hilarious monkey that's in your script.

9.  Nothing happens.  Readers see this all the time.  They call them BOSH scripts: Bunch of Shit Happens.  These scripts are usually episodic, derivative and very boring.

As you can see, she’s getting crankier.

8.  Schizophrenic scripts.  Screenplays that are all over the place that make the reader ask “What am I reading?”  They can’t discern the genre and the tone changes from scene to scene.  This means the writer doesn’t know what they're doing and what story they are telling.

7.  Sluglines that suck and clutter the page.  A lot of times writers read shooting scripts and use that format.  You do not need to repeat the slugline over and over.  If you’re creative and know cinematic language, you can use sluglines to your advantage.  Why say INT. HOUSE when you can say INT. CRUMBLING SHACK?  That also eliminates description in the action line.  Take every opportunity to seduce with colorful words.

They love mini sluglines.  Here’s an example:

INT. MANSION--DAY

IN THE KITCHEN

Jane drops her panties. Joe gets on his knees.

Lubricate the read.  

Also, you do not need to keep repeating it’s day.  It’s DAY until it’s not DAY anymore.  It’s NIGHT until it’s not NIGHT anymore.

And crankier…

6.  Lame two-dimensional characters who do not seem to have a backstory or no other life besides the plot.  Characters are what make you care about the story.  Bad characters have no flaws or motivation and do not change.  Don't fall in love with your character at the beginning of the story.  If you do, she'll be Miss Perfect, just like you.  Fall in love with your character as she is going to be at the end of the story.  The protagonist should start like this : ( and end up like this : ).

Remember: A story is an emotion delivery system that should provide catharsis. Great characters are the Gold Standard.  

5.  On the nose dialogue.  There is not such thing as good characters and bad dialogue or vice versa.  They are always, without exception, both good or both bad. 

4.  Too much black.  They just skip dense action lines, so your effort to create novelistic prose-like script is wasted and resented.  Again, it’s 11:30 p.m., reader has a toothache, no dental insurance and still has two more scripts to read. Aim for less black.  Think "white space is the new prose."

Put the reader in the character’s shoes and manipulate her into the movie.

Don't micromanage actors in action lines and give too much detail.  The writer is not the director or actor.

No weird editorials: “This should be shot like that scene in Showgirls…”

Do not recommend actors.

Pop references are all right if they are integral to the story.

Break up action to lead 

EYES

towards the

BOTTOM of the page.

Lubricate...

Use words as 

TRAMPOLINES!

They want to read elegant, 

pithy, 

cinematic ACTION!

And still crankier…

3.  Action Line Interruptus.

Dialogue interrupted by business that means nothing to the story.  It breaks up rhythm.

2.  Adept imitations.  Derivative, unoriginal scripts.

Writers should test their ideas.  Write a logline.  Then come up with 3-4 movies that are in any way like it.  When were they released?  What was the Box Office?  What was the zeitgeist when the movie was released?  Know what kind of movie you are writing.  Is it a Friday night blockbuster or a quite indie for a rainy Sunday afternoon?

Are you feeling empathy yet?

1. Typos.

Readers will overlook a reasonable amount of typos.  It’s considered petty and in bad form to point out typos in coverage.  But if it’s excessive, they're going to mention it because it means it's a writer who has no respect for the English language.  A huge flag is the misuse of homonyms, especially if it's all over the script.  It means it's not a typo and that the writer does not know the difference.

So now you know how to make it easier on yourself.  Make it easy on the reader so that her toothache doesn't get worse and she won’t resent you.  And remember, lubricate, lubricate, lubricate.  You want words that will slide down a white page towards the magical 

FADE OUT.

BTW: The reader tracking board is a myth.  No one has any interest or time to bash a script online.  They might, if ever, talk about a script if it was ridiculously funny, but that’s about it.

Can we ban the word “pretentious” from the dictionary?

My friend John Luke Retard e-mailed me and a mutual Critic friend the Toronto Film Festival best of the decade list. John Luke confessed he had fallen asleep during Syndromes and a Century and the Critic sent a brief reply dismissing the list as pretentious. I expect that kind of shallow reaction from an intimidated and insecure mainstream moviegoer, but coming from a critic it really bothered me. Especially after he had already said the same thing about The Hollywood Reporter’s list, pointing out that, even though he had not seen The White Ribbon, any list with that much Michael Haneke had to be pretentious. I don’t know if it was his use of one of my most hated words, his disdain for one of my favorite directors or the chile relleno I had for lunch, but my gut started to burn. I took a Zantac, meditated for a bit and proceeded to grill him on his definition of “pretentious.” He sent back this lovely definition: “long, slow films that most audiences will not care about or enjoy.” I popped a Paxil.

“Great artists are people who find the way to be themselves in their art. Any sort of pretension induces mediocrity in art and life alike.”—Margot Fonteyn

I abhor the word “pretentious” because it’s thrown around willy-nilly, as if it’s supposed to be a grandiose and meaningful statement in of itself. It’s quite the opposite. I have used the word before in a film review. But to me, pretentiousness is the antithesis of honesty; it lies within the context of the artist’s intent. The Critic was using it to judge the TIFF list-maker’s intent, as if his/her choices had no relevance because it was unlikely they would appeal to a wide audience. As a member of a smaller audience that seeks out more original and artistic films, I am offended that someone would suggest that what I want to see doesn’t matter. It was as if the Critic was saying, “your hunger for these obscure arthouse films is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. If you refuse to be part of the herd, then risk being called a pretentious twit."

I started to review movies out of a need to, not just write, but to promote worthy films outside the mainstream radar. Voltaire said that “no statue has ever been erected for a critic.” While it’s true, the profession doesn’t have to be without merit. It is certainly a noble pursuit to support and promote worthwhile efforts outside the mainstream. I wrote the Critic, that where he saw pretentiousness and the list-maker’s selfish self-aggrandizing, I perceived advocacy. As a filmmaker, I hope one day my work will be championed by a critic. Anyone, actually.

I am sure The Dark Knight and Up will be on many lists, but really, do they need it? Christopher Nolan and Pixar are doing all right. Better than all right. The same can’t be said for dozens of brilliant filmmakers that cannot get financing off the ground and distribution for their films. They’re calling it the Indie Bloodbath.

I thank and applaud those who bring attention to lesser known movies. Making discoveries would be difficult without those generous, caring souls. Someone is going to read the TIFF list and discover a filmmaker they have never heard of before and maybe love her movie. (I’ve added Distant, Platform and Colossal Youth to my bulging Netflix queue.)The hope is always that someone, somewhere, will notice your work and give it some attention so that you can find your audience.

I am working my way through the decade’s movies trying to figure out what I think are the best. I can tell you right now that ranking my picks will be downright impossible. I don’t watch that many Hollywood movies because it’s a waste of my time. However, I hope you don’t see me and/or my list as pretentious. I don’t have an agenda. I like what I like and I champion what I think should be championed. It’s as simple as that. Stay tuned.