Some months back, I optioned a romantic comedy of mine called Heartsgaard to actor/producer and friend Gerard Marzilli. If you've been following the blog for a while, you know that the two of us are planning to launch Heartsgaard as an event that bridges stage and screen in some interesting ways.
Now, you can get a whole lot more detail at www.secondfrontfilms.com! You'll find a fairly complete sketch of what we're up to, and we'd love to hear your feedback.
If you've got thoughts on the site or are looking for ways to get involved in Heartsgaard, there's an e-mail contact on the website (which I won't post here because of the spam spiders).
Check it out!
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Facebookers, Sam Bailey needs you!
Yes! Finally, we have a Facebook group for WHO IS SAM BAILEY: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/pages/Sam-Bailey/59907086043?ref=ts
Please, join us! The way I have it set up, the page will be automatically updated with new Who is Sam Bailey posts, as well as little tidbits from me and the other members of the SamWatcher community.
Remember! These guys don't know it's a movie! If you're willing to play along, please feel free to share your own SamWatcher notions. If you want to taunt and deride those who take SamWatching seriously, it only adds to the realism.
Just don't tell them about 8 Sided Films! I'll let you know when...
Again, that group is http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/pages/Sam-Bailey/59907086043?ref=ts. Thanks, everybody!
Yours truly,
T
Please, join us! The way I have it set up, the page will be automatically updated with new Who is Sam Bailey posts, as well as little tidbits from me and the other members of the SamWatcher community.
Remember! These guys don't know it's a movie! If you're willing to play along, please feel free to share your own SamWatcher notions. If you want to taunt and deride those who take SamWatching seriously, it only adds to the realism.
Just don't tell them about 8 Sided Films! I'll let you know when...
Again, that group is http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/pages/Sam-Bailey/59907086043?ref=ts. Thanks, everybody!
Yours truly,
T
Monday, April 27, 2009
CHAOS will be my final masterpiece!
So, my inner 10 year-old has been let out of the cage. Don't worry. It's all in the name of progress.
For years, I've been vexed by the lack of studio support for The Stormcrow. To me, a story that successfully tackles the meat and potatoes of the Lovecraft Mythos is going to have a huge audience, and establishing the archetypal occult investigator as a cinematic character paves the way for a franchise that crosses media with incredible ease.
So what the hell? After talking to a few producer/comic book nerds I know, it finally occurred to me: the script is mean, and nobody likes getting yelled at. While the movie may be awesome and highly marketable, nobody signs a business deal when they're feeling threatened.
That's why the only horror movies that get made today are watered down and safe. Mind you, I'm not talking about gore. I'm talking about emotional threat.
I'm not going to make in-roads with the studio guys until I write something that's as fun to read as it is good cinema.
That's why I'm knee deep in space pirates, gun-slinging vampires, lightning-bolt-slinging warlocks, demons, robot monsters, and soul-eating necrocrabs from Dimension X! It's called Cross-Dimensional, but to make it a bit more friendly to executives I might just call it X-D.
Can something this hectic and nutty actually work on the page? So far, it's carrying it's weight. I'm hoping to strike a glib, Hellboy-esque tone and keep things intimate, while at the same time providing awesome opportunities for model-work, monster puppetry, stop-motion (robot monster!!!), and iconic production design.
Plus, it's a crack in the jaw to just about every blockbuster we've seen over the last few years. No dimension is safe from the scallywag crew of the Fool's Gamble!
One thing is certain. My inner child ain't going back in the basement.
Name the quote in the title of this post for special blog-wide recognition!
For years, I've been vexed by the lack of studio support for The Stormcrow. To me, a story that successfully tackles the meat and potatoes of the Lovecraft Mythos is going to have a huge audience, and establishing the archetypal occult investigator as a cinematic character paves the way for a franchise that crosses media with incredible ease.
So what the hell? After talking to a few producer/comic book nerds I know, it finally occurred to me: the script is mean, and nobody likes getting yelled at. While the movie may be awesome and highly marketable, nobody signs a business deal when they're feeling threatened.
That's why the only horror movies that get made today are watered down and safe. Mind you, I'm not talking about gore. I'm talking about emotional threat.
I'm not going to make in-roads with the studio guys until I write something that's as fun to read as it is good cinema.
That's why I'm knee deep in space pirates, gun-slinging vampires, lightning-bolt-slinging warlocks, demons, robot monsters, and soul-eating necrocrabs from Dimension X! It's called Cross-Dimensional, but to make it a bit more friendly to executives I might just call it X-D.
Can something this hectic and nutty actually work on the page? So far, it's carrying it's weight. I'm hoping to strike a glib, Hellboy-esque tone and keep things intimate, while at the same time providing awesome opportunities for model-work, monster puppetry, stop-motion (robot monster!!!), and iconic production design.
Plus, it's a crack in the jaw to just about every blockbuster we've seen over the last few years. No dimension is safe from the scallywag crew of the Fool's Gamble!
One thing is certain. My inner child ain't going back in the basement.
Name the quote in the title of this post for special blog-wide recognition!
8 Sided Updates
Yesterday afternoon was an involved retooling of www.8sidedfilms.com. There are loads of subtle changes, and if you click on "Sam Bailey" and "Heartsgaard", you'll find plenty of fresh content.
Check it out at www.8sidedfilms.com!
Check it out at www.8sidedfilms.com!
Heartsgaard Rune
Yesterday I went over to Gerard's apartment to help him set up a website for Second Front Films, the production company that will be primarily responsible for Heartsgaard. Before getting started, we grabbed breakfast at a fantastic bakery in Burbank called Porto's. On the way home we pulled over to finish a conversation.
As it turns out, we pulled over next to the house of a known drug-dealer! The police stopped us to search the car! After it was all over, they let us go with some fix-it instructions concerning Gerard's new license plates.
That's how I wound up doodling on Gerard's computer while he went out to buy tools and do some light auto maintenance. Over the next two hours, I came up with a Nordic rune that looks really cool, and that says it all with regards to the lessons and meaning of Heartsgaard. If you want to know what Heartsgaard means, and you know runework, just take a look!
We liked it so much that we've decided to use it as key art to tie the stage production and the movie together. Instead of getting the Second Front Films site up, we spent the rest of the day on CafePress making cool Heartsgaard stuff.
Get awesome Heartsgaard swag at www.cafepress.com/heartsgaard! I know I will!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Appendix: Attendance is Mandatory
As a follow up to the last post, methinks the top priorities must be Sam Bailey, Heartsgaard, and XD. More on XD later... For now, I'll just say that Attendance is Mandatory is neither as vital a film, nor as vital to my future.
Besides, the ending totally works on the level of a drug-fueled fantasy. Do I want to compromise that?
Welcome to my mind, dear reader!
Besides, the ending totally works on the level of a drug-fueled fantasy. Do I want to compromise that?
Welcome to my mind, dear reader!
Attendance is mandatory.
Coming up for air from the non-stop Sam Bailey and Heartsgaard rewrites has helped in a number of ways... For one, I've got some ideas about how I can improve on TIYE, which I think I'm going to rename Attendance is Mandatory. For quite some time, I've been vexed by the ending. To me, it's just not realistic that Turner wouldn't have to deal with the larger authorities when he burns the school to the ground...
Finally, I've got a rock solid idea of how that can work. It makes the movie a good deal darker, but I think I can keep it at a PG-13. For those who don't know, this is a movie about a high-school kid who wakes up from his medicated haze to realize he's living in a dark future bent on squashing his soul. From there, he decides to burn his high school to the ground. Very Brazil, but with heaps of Pump up the Volume and Heathers.
Anyway, a quick rewrite on this one might now be a bad idea, once I'm done with what I'm doing. Between the science-fiction and the Heartsgaard play, I've got my work cut out for me!
Finally, I've got a rock solid idea of how that can work. It makes the movie a good deal darker, but I think I can keep it at a PG-13. For those who don't know, this is a movie about a high-school kid who wakes up from his medicated haze to realize he's living in a dark future bent on squashing his soul. From there, he decides to burn his high school to the ground. Very Brazil, but with heaps of Pump up the Volume and Heathers.
Anyway, a quick rewrite on this one might now be a bad idea, once I'm done with what I'm doing. Between the science-fiction and the Heartsgaard play, I've got my work cut out for me!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
The Muppet Movie and Pulp Fiction
Lately, I've been catching up on a genre of films my film lexicon is mighty shaky on. Just this week, I've seen Duck Soup and Some Like it Hot for the first time. For years I've loved Topper, The Thin Man, and other boozy comedies, but I've tended to avoid the real screwball comedies. The structure of vaudeville appeals to me in Chaplin's films because it makes his characters likeable - they just keep on trying. At the same time, I'd never really gotten into variety show structure as a favored means of putting on a show.
Seeing these films got me thinking.
People like to credit Quentin Tarantino with making high art out of exploitation films, a genre that grew out of certain production limitations and a certain cultural atmosphere. Rightly so! Pulp Fiction deserves its place of prominence in the history of film, and every one of his movies uses the conventions of the 70's to rattle our notions of what makes movies work.
So why doesn't Jim Henson get the same acclaim? In structure, The Muppet Movie uses the same conventions as the Marx Brothers, Chaplin, and Billy Wilder. Plus, like Tarantino, Henson really goes all-out! He's got musical numbers funnier than anything the Marx Brothers ever did, and more musically eloquent as well. He's got quips that are both hammier and funnier than perhaps anyone but Chaplin himself, and Henson goes way past Chaplin into Marx territory in terms of how hard he's willing to work for a laugh. Sometimes, the joke is actually just how far they're willing to go! It makes the quiet moments all the more potent.
Those quiet moments are what elevate Henson way past the vaudeville traditions he's clearly steeped in. Surely, Chaplin's work has a soul and a sadness that gives it dimension missing from his contemporaries, but he never went as far off the deep end as Henson. Like Tarantino, Henson pushed the boundaries of what screwball comedy is willing to do. Like Tarantino, he used his production methods as a gateway to new frontiers, intensity-wise. Some might say he pushed the boundaries of taste.
Why does he get away with it? Because simultaneous to doing so, he allows his characters to show a heightened sense of human beauty. During Duck Soup or Some Like it Hot, I never felt like crying. Coming and going, The Muppet Movie gets me every time. Who doesn't feel something when Kermit sings 'Rainbow Connection' on his lilypad, dreaming of greater things and a new life? Who doesn't feel something when he gets to make his movie, and share it with his friends? Henson hits emotional notes that feel more true than Chaplin, and he nails comic moments bigger than Harpo Marx dared to dream of. Sure, Henson has an innocence that Tarantino gleefully eschews, but maybe they're not so different.
Maybe it's time we formally recognize Jim Henson's contributions to film and television.
Seeing these films got me thinking.
People like to credit Quentin Tarantino with making high art out of exploitation films, a genre that grew out of certain production limitations and a certain cultural atmosphere. Rightly so! Pulp Fiction deserves its place of prominence in the history of film, and every one of his movies uses the conventions of the 70's to rattle our notions of what makes movies work.
So why doesn't Jim Henson get the same acclaim? In structure, The Muppet Movie uses the same conventions as the Marx Brothers, Chaplin, and Billy Wilder. Plus, like Tarantino, Henson really goes all-out! He's got musical numbers funnier than anything the Marx Brothers ever did, and more musically eloquent as well. He's got quips that are both hammier and funnier than perhaps anyone but Chaplin himself, and Henson goes way past Chaplin into Marx territory in terms of how hard he's willing to work for a laugh. Sometimes, the joke is actually just how far they're willing to go! It makes the quiet moments all the more potent.
Those quiet moments are what elevate Henson way past the vaudeville traditions he's clearly steeped in. Surely, Chaplin's work has a soul and a sadness that gives it dimension missing from his contemporaries, but he never went as far off the deep end as Henson. Like Tarantino, Henson pushed the boundaries of what screwball comedy is willing to do. Like Tarantino, he used his production methods as a gateway to new frontiers, intensity-wise. Some might say he pushed the boundaries of taste.
Why does he get away with it? Because simultaneous to doing so, he allows his characters to show a heightened sense of human beauty. During Duck Soup or Some Like it Hot, I never felt like crying. Coming and going, The Muppet Movie gets me every time. Who doesn't feel something when Kermit sings 'Rainbow Connection' on his lilypad, dreaming of greater things and a new life? Who doesn't feel something when he gets to make his movie, and share it with his friends? Henson hits emotional notes that feel more true than Chaplin, and he nails comic moments bigger than Harpo Marx dared to dream of. Sure, Henson has an innocence that Tarantino gleefully eschews, but maybe they're not so different.
Maybe it's time we formally recognize Jim Henson's contributions to film and television.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Should screenwriters study acting?
In my experience, honesty is the most important goal in writing character when it comes to scene-internal action, including dialogue. Establishing that honesty has nothing to do with MAKING your characters do the right thing, and everything to do with LETTING them.
As a whole, the story will go in the general direction you desire if the characters you create are ripe for the arcs you mean for them to experience, as well as appropriately resistant to them. At the same time, the writing itself is a chain reaction. Routinely, I am surprised by the actions my characters take and the things they say. Those surprises make my screenplay better.
To put it into tangible terms, the human mind has 7 methods of problem solving available to it. Five of these methods are unconscious. For a script to reach anywhere near it's full potential, the writer must have a framework within which the unconscious solutions can express themselves.
Finding and harnessing those impulses in the context of character is what actors are trained to do. So long as a screenwriter understands basic structure, acting classes will do more for their craft than any amount of reading or seminars.
As a whole, the story will go in the general direction you desire if the characters you create are ripe for the arcs you mean for them to experience, as well as appropriately resistant to them. At the same time, the writing itself is a chain reaction. Routinely, I am surprised by the actions my characters take and the things they say. Those surprises make my screenplay better.
To put it into tangible terms, the human mind has 7 methods of problem solving available to it. Five of these methods are unconscious. For a script to reach anywhere near it's full potential, the writer must have a framework within which the unconscious solutions can express themselves.
Finding and harnessing those impulses in the context of character is what actors are trained to do. So long as a screenwriter understands basic structure, acting classes will do more for their craft than any amount of reading or seminars.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
That Sam Bailey script is awful talkative...
Finally, I got some critical feedback on the new draft of Sam Bailey!
Correctly, they pointed out that I've committed one of the cardinal sins of screenwriting. My script is almost all dialogue. Any reasonable agency reader would dump it in the recycle bin. Seeing all that conversation is a red flag. No question.
Actors do things. Film allows us to watch them. Movies are not about words.
At the same time, convincing, challenging, questioning and supporting each other is the fastest and simplest way I can see for these particular characters to reach their objectives. As far as I can tell, the dialogue in Sam Bailey is never anything other than action. We're not watching these characters talk. We're watching them build relationships and solve mysteries.
Funny enough, this script is way too intimate, too quiet, to work on stage. Viewers need to be close to these conversations to pick up the action, because it is subtle. Watching this movie is about being in on things - a secret, and a relationship. Making the action too big, and thus making the budget too big, would make it a different movie.
Then again, dialogue as action is not something everyone can pull off! When it comes time to shoot, it'll be more professional for me to take that risk with the best script I can muster than try and make a three million dollar movie for 200k.
That three-million dollar version is a film where people chase each other down, instead of convincing each other to stay. Both are actions. While the three million dollar version might run less risk of being terrible and boring, it certainly will never be as great.
Correctly, they pointed out that I've committed one of the cardinal sins of screenwriting. My script is almost all dialogue. Any reasonable agency reader would dump it in the recycle bin. Seeing all that conversation is a red flag. No question.
Actors do things. Film allows us to watch them. Movies are not about words.
At the same time, convincing, challenging, questioning and supporting each other is the fastest and simplest way I can see for these particular characters to reach their objectives. As far as I can tell, the dialogue in Sam Bailey is never anything other than action. We're not watching these characters talk. We're watching them build relationships and solve mysteries.
Funny enough, this script is way too intimate, too quiet, to work on stage. Viewers need to be close to these conversations to pick up the action, because it is subtle. Watching this movie is about being in on things - a secret, and a relationship. Making the action too big, and thus making the budget too big, would make it a different movie.
Then again, dialogue as action is not something everyone can pull off! When it comes time to shoot, it'll be more professional for me to take that risk with the best script I can muster than try and make a three million dollar movie for 200k.
That three-million dollar version is a film where people chase each other down, instead of convincing each other to stay. Both are actions. While the three million dollar version might run less risk of being terrible and boring, it certainly will never be as great.
Monday, April 13, 2009
I have a great idea for a movie, but who will make it?
I'm only going to address this issue once, because most of my excellent readers will know this already: Your "great idea" is worthless to everyone but yourself.
Everyone in Hollywood has tons of great ideas. Of those ideas, the percentage that are turned into great screenplays is relatively small. For one, writing is hard and time-consuming. For another, most people are pretty busy already.
Then, of those great ideas that are written into great screenplays, the percentage that is made into great movies is really, really small.
It's great movies that make money. It's great movies that matter.
How much will executives and producers care about your great idea? Not as much as they care about their own great ideas, I promise you! And even their great ideas will probably never become screenplays, which will probably never become movies.
Nobody cares more about these ideas than you. If you don't care enough to write the screenplay, who does?
Everyone in Hollywood has tons of great ideas. Of those ideas, the percentage that are turned into great screenplays is relatively small. For one, writing is hard and time-consuming. For another, most people are pretty busy already.
Then, of those great ideas that are written into great screenplays, the percentage that is made into great movies is really, really small.
It's great movies that make money. It's great movies that matter.
How much will executives and producers care about your great idea? Not as much as they care about their own great ideas, I promise you! And even their great ideas will probably never become screenplays, which will probably never become movies.
Nobody cares more about these ideas than you. If you don't care enough to write the screenplay, who does?
Two Ways to Help Sam Bailey
Before we get into the voodoo of viral marketing, have you signed onto the mailing list? Have you signed our petitions?
Head over to http://www.8sidedfilms.com/ and click where it says CLICK HERE!
Now that that's done...
WHO IS SAM BAILEY?
Mounting historical evidence suggests that a man named Sam Bailey has been living in secrecy for over five hundred years. How this is possible? Who is this man? Share your theories and evidence at http://www.whoissambailey.com/!
Our favorite "Who is Sam Bailey?" posters will get the opportunity to interview cast and crew and review the script, as well as receiving other exclusive opportunities to observe and report on Sam Bailey development and production.
I AM SAM BAILEY!
Our earliest evidence of Sam Bailey is a woodcut from a seventeenth century illuminated manuscript... Steal that image (www.8sidedfilms.com/sbfinal.jpg) and reappropriate it! Make your own Sam Bailey Facebook page, MySpace page, or Twitter account! Be sure to connect to all your friends.
When you do this, shoot us a link with your name or handle to scoop@whoissambailey.com, with I AM SAM BAILEY in the subject line. All our "Sam Bailies" will be listed in the end credits! Make sure the name you send us is the name you want to be credited under.
This kind of marketing is what Sam Bailey needs to make it to the screen as the amazing little movie it should be. Thank you for joining us in creating this avalanche of new stories and great cinema. Together, we can change the media landscape. It's already happening...
Head over to http://www.8sidedfilms.com/ and click where it says CLICK HERE!
Now that that's done...
WHO IS SAM BAILEY?
Mounting historical evidence suggests that a man named Sam Bailey has been living in secrecy for over five hundred years. How this is possible? Who is this man? Share your theories and evidence at http://www.whoissambailey.com/!
Our favorite "Who is Sam Bailey?" posters will get the opportunity to interview cast and crew and review the script, as well as receiving other exclusive opportunities to observe and report on Sam Bailey development and production.
I AM SAM BAILEY!
Our earliest evidence of Sam Bailey is a woodcut from a seventeenth century illuminated manuscript... Steal that image (www.8sidedfilms.com/sbfinal.jpg) and reappropriate it! Make your own Sam Bailey Facebook page, MySpace page, or Twitter account! Be sure to connect to all your friends.
When you do this, shoot us a link with your name or handle to scoop@whoissambailey.com, with I AM SAM BAILEY in the subject line. All our "Sam Bailies" will be listed in the end credits! Make sure the name you send us is the name you want to be credited under.
This kind of marketing is what Sam Bailey needs to make it to the screen as the amazing little movie it should be. Thank you for joining us in creating this avalanche of new stories and great cinema. Together, we can change the media landscape. It's already happening...
Lucky Break on the IMDb
Because I've been using Withoutabox.com to manage festival submissions for my short film, and because the IMDb bought Without a Box and wants to promote it, Farther has been selected for addition to the IMDb - even though I'm still in post-production!
This post is just to document one of the lucky little breaks one takes advantage of to build a career. I've had plenty of others, and most of them revolve around meeting someone awesome. Those kinds of things can be rude to blog about, but this little piece of mana is ripe for reporting!
Fartherites, please be patient. When the IMDb site is up and running, I'll start adding everyone to the credits.
This post is just to document one of the lucky little breaks one takes advantage of to build a career. I've had plenty of others, and most of them revolve around meeting someone awesome. Those kinds of things can be rude to blog about, but this little piece of mana is ripe for reporting!
Fartherites, please be patient. When the IMDb site is up and running, I'll start adding everyone to the credits.
Heartsgaard and the Process of Adaptation
My very first screenplay was written in 2005. Restorer is a science-fiction action movie that took place in a role-playing universe I'd developed over the previous five years called Restoration. Looking back, there are a number of things I can do to make that script more cinematic and less frenetic. Hardly surprising. I was a pretty frenetic guy.
Even then, I knew to focus on the cinematic opportunities Restoration offers... While I'm not sure if it's to the script's misfortune or ingenuity, Restorer also embraces a handful of Restoration's less cinematic qualities. Botton line: Restorer and Restoration take place in the same world, and that world connects them. Maybe that's a key to the adaptation process.
Yesterday afternoon, I finished my second rough mapmaking foray through the process of adaptation. When I started the process of building support for Sam Bailey, I talked to fellow producer and actor Gerard about how the same kind of awareness-building can work for Heartsgaard. Know what? It can't. Sam Bailey has an easy hook for marketing, because it's lead character is such an odd figure of mystery. Conrad Elisson is practically transparent.
We knew that transparency was our way in - we just didn't know how. Finally, as we were driving around together chatting each other up, it occurred to me that the characters of Heartsgaard would have an easy time living on the stage. If we wrote a stage production and launched it successfully, we could use that show as a launchpad for public awareness. Because the characters were so theatrical, it seemed as if Heartsgaard on stage would mirror the film pretty closely. Our adaptation process seemed pretty straightforward.
Having just finished the first draft of the play, I can tell you the two are almost nothing alike. Turns out, transparency in film and transparency on the stage are two very different things. At first glance, I managed to create a funny, visceral framework to hang the show on. I've also created a very different narrative than the one in the screenplay. Maybe the story on film would work on stage - I'm not sure. What I'm putting on stage could never exist on film. Of that, I am certain.
Recently, I wound up in a conversation with someone involved in Watchmen on the subject of the Squid. For those that haven't seen the movie or read the book, the climax of the comic involves a giant space squid that is, for coherency reasons, absent from the film. In a graphic novel, seeing a giant space squid suddenly enter the story from left field stops you in your tracks. You wind up staring at the splash page, trying to sort out what just happened. It's brilliant. Trouble is, a movie doesn't just stop so you can stare at it dumbfounded. Movies keep going. Hence, no squid.
Omitting the squid generated some controversy in the fan community. My aforementioned Watchmen friend started our little exchange by calling me a squiddite. Having just finished this new piece of work, I'm seeing myself as far from pro-Squid.
In fact, I'm wondering if I've adapted Heartsgaard at all. Yes, I dealt with the same basic story, but it's presented in a totally different context. Yes, Heartsgaard the play exists in the same world as Heartsgaard the film. Really, it brings the audience into that world, instead of just letting them watch it.
To be fair, I need to mention the work of Nina Sallinen. In writing this show, I took a huge amount of inspiration and raided the post-modern toolbox from her brilliant play, Poor, Poor Lear. There's a review in the 8 Sided archives, at http://tenny.8sidedfilms.com/2009/02/23/poor-poor-lear.aspx.
I've found myself in the same conundrum Charlie Kaufman outlined in the screenplay for Adaptation, which is a film I heartily recommend. Looking at the superhero movies that have been coming out, it seems like they haven't been trying to recreate the stories from the comics so much as draw from them, and audiences appear to be satisfied. At the same time, adapting a novel creates the expectation of certain beats, certain story points... I suppose those points are consistent from my movie to my play, but they seem unreconizable to me.
Watchmen could eliminate the Squid, but they had to honor why the Squid was there. I haven't done that here. My squids are there for new reasons. Still, those reasons are consistent with the characters I created in the film. Rather than unmaking each other, the film and the play of Heartsgaard add to one another, and continue each other's stories in kind of a strange thematic ouroboros.
When I think about it, there have been some films that take their source material to thematically new frontiers. Solaris, I hear - although I haven't read the book. The Departed, for sure. At the same time, I don't think I'm creating a play that's better than Heartsgaard the movie. This is just something really, really different.
Because I wrote the movie, and because I'm doing this with the film's producer, I clearly have the authority to make these kinds of creative leaps. If Heartsgaard were someone else's story, would this be a betrayal of the original creator's intent and trust - or a mature approach to giving their story full-blooded life in a new and different medium?
Or maybe both?
Even then, I knew to focus on the cinematic opportunities Restoration offers... While I'm not sure if it's to the script's misfortune or ingenuity, Restorer also embraces a handful of Restoration's less cinematic qualities. Botton line: Restorer and Restoration take place in the same world, and that world connects them. Maybe that's a key to the adaptation process.
Yesterday afternoon, I finished my second rough mapmaking foray through the process of adaptation. When I started the process of building support for Sam Bailey, I talked to fellow producer and actor Gerard about how the same kind of awareness-building can work for Heartsgaard. Know what? It can't. Sam Bailey has an easy hook for marketing, because it's lead character is such an odd figure of mystery. Conrad Elisson is practically transparent.
We knew that transparency was our way in - we just didn't know how. Finally, as we were driving around together chatting each other up, it occurred to me that the characters of Heartsgaard would have an easy time living on the stage. If we wrote a stage production and launched it successfully, we could use that show as a launchpad for public awareness. Because the characters were so theatrical, it seemed as if Heartsgaard on stage would mirror the film pretty closely. Our adaptation process seemed pretty straightforward.
Having just finished the first draft of the play, I can tell you the two are almost nothing alike. Turns out, transparency in film and transparency on the stage are two very different things. At first glance, I managed to create a funny, visceral framework to hang the show on. I've also created a very different narrative than the one in the screenplay. Maybe the story on film would work on stage - I'm not sure. What I'm putting on stage could never exist on film. Of that, I am certain.
Recently, I wound up in a conversation with someone involved in Watchmen on the subject of the Squid. For those that haven't seen the movie or read the book, the climax of the comic involves a giant space squid that is, for coherency reasons, absent from the film. In a graphic novel, seeing a giant space squid suddenly enter the story from left field stops you in your tracks. You wind up staring at the splash page, trying to sort out what just happened. It's brilliant. Trouble is, a movie doesn't just stop so you can stare at it dumbfounded. Movies keep going. Hence, no squid.
Omitting the squid generated some controversy in the fan community. My aforementioned Watchmen friend started our little exchange by calling me a squiddite. Having just finished this new piece of work, I'm seeing myself as far from pro-Squid.
In fact, I'm wondering if I've adapted Heartsgaard at all. Yes, I dealt with the same basic story, but it's presented in a totally different context. Yes, Heartsgaard the play exists in the same world as Heartsgaard the film. Really, it brings the audience into that world, instead of just letting them watch it.
To be fair, I need to mention the work of Nina Sallinen. In writing this show, I took a huge amount of inspiration and raided the post-modern toolbox from her brilliant play, Poor, Poor Lear. There's a review in the 8 Sided archives, at http://tenny.8sidedfilms.com/2009/02/23/poor-poor-lear.aspx.
I've found myself in the same conundrum Charlie Kaufman outlined in the screenplay for Adaptation, which is a film I heartily recommend. Looking at the superhero movies that have been coming out, it seems like they haven't been trying to recreate the stories from the comics so much as draw from them, and audiences appear to be satisfied. At the same time, adapting a novel creates the expectation of certain beats, certain story points... I suppose those points are consistent from my movie to my play, but they seem unreconizable to me.
Watchmen could eliminate the Squid, but they had to honor why the Squid was there. I haven't done that here. My squids are there for new reasons. Still, those reasons are consistent with the characters I created in the film. Rather than unmaking each other, the film and the play of Heartsgaard add to one another, and continue each other's stories in kind of a strange thematic ouroboros.
When I think about it, there have been some films that take their source material to thematically new frontiers. Solaris, I hear - although I haven't read the book. The Departed, for sure. At the same time, I don't think I'm creating a play that's better than Heartsgaard the movie. This is just something really, really different.
Because I wrote the movie, and because I'm doing this with the film's producer, I clearly have the authority to make these kinds of creative leaps. If Heartsgaard were someone else's story, would this be a betrayal of the original creator's intent and trust - or a mature approach to giving their story full-blooded life in a new and different medium?
Or maybe both?
Friday, April 10, 2009
Interview on Blog Talk Radio
Today, I gave an interview about the role of independent film in the industry as it adapts to new economic forces, as well as its role in the careers of up and coming film professionals. Here's the link!
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/123-Film/2009/04/10/Guest-Tennyson-E-Stead
My interviewer is Sam Heer, a producer and a passionate force in the industry. Much of her time is devoted to helping young, aspiring filmmakers find their footing in the business, and this radio show is one of her many ongoing efforts to that end. To support Sam's charities, check out her Cafe Press store at http://www.cafepress.com/ipacharity, or visit the Independent Producer's Alliance at http://ipafoundation.weebly.com.
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/123-Film/2009/04/10/Guest-Tennyson-E-Stead
My interviewer is Sam Heer, a producer and a passionate force in the industry. Much of her time is devoted to helping young, aspiring filmmakers find their footing in the business, and this radio show is one of her many ongoing efforts to that end. To support Sam's charities, check out her Cafe Press store at http://www.cafepress.com/ipacharity, or visit the Independent Producer's Alliance at http://ipafoundation.weebly.com.
What makes a movie?
On the IMDb today, someone asked "What do you think are the two most important things in a movie?"
Interesting question! My thought is that movies are called motion pictures for a reason. The motion and the picture are the two most important elements.
1) The Screen
One important element is to have a screen, onto which light is projected. Like so many other art forms, there are artists trying to get past the basic mechanics of cinema with tools like 3D, but for me the screen is an essential aspect of what makes a film a film.
Some painters, like Rauschenberg, went beyond the canvas traditionally associated with paintings and built and glued other things to it. When painters do that, their work becomes a statement about what painting is. Three-D is inherently post-modern, and any 3D movie is making a statement about what movies are, whether that statement is deliberate or accidental.
You're looking at an image projected on a screen. All your composition revolves around this simple fact.
2) The Illusion of Motion
When you create the illusion of motion, you create the illusion of time as an inherent byproduct. That's where the script becomes very important - because while you are composing an image in space, you're also composing a story or event in time.
Now that I think of it, all performance art is basically composition in time. Of all those art forms, film is the most compositionally sophisticated in a visual sense - because of the screen!
Interesting question! My thought is that movies are called motion pictures for a reason. The motion and the picture are the two most important elements.
1) The Screen
One important element is to have a screen, onto which light is projected. Like so many other art forms, there are artists trying to get past the basic mechanics of cinema with tools like 3D, but for me the screen is an essential aspect of what makes a film a film.
Some painters, like Rauschenberg, went beyond the canvas traditionally associated with paintings and built and glued other things to it. When painters do that, their work becomes a statement about what painting is. Three-D is inherently post-modern, and any 3D movie is making a statement about what movies are, whether that statement is deliberate or accidental.
You're looking at an image projected on a screen. All your composition revolves around this simple fact.
2) The Illusion of Motion
When you create the illusion of motion, you create the illusion of time as an inherent byproduct. That's where the script becomes very important - because while you are composing an image in space, you're also composing a story or event in time.
Now that I think of it, all performance art is basically composition in time. Of all those art forms, film is the most compositionally sophisticated in a visual sense - because of the screen!
Thursday, April 9, 2009
On Clint Eastwood and Michael Mann
Following up on my last post, I also love Clint Eastwood and Michael Mann - pretty much for opposite reasons.
Those who know me have seen some minimalist aesthetic tendencies, and Michael Mann is the film industry's master of economy. When it comes to performance, when it comes to story, or stunts, or anything at all, he cuts through all the distractions and gets right to the point.
For that same reason, those moments where he lets the elevated emotions out (or brings out the heavy artillery) come across as super important, instead of merely expected.
On the other hand, Clint Eastwood is one of the emotionally richest filmmakers working today, and he gets his feelings across simply. His films are about careful, attentive performance, with delicate use of color, with astute cinematography... He loves his actors, and it never gets more complicated than that. If there's a touching moment in an Eastwood film, it's touching because the actors have affected one another so profoundly that we, in turn, are affected.
No five hundred foot swirling crane shot is going to replicate that. As much as I love Titanic, and I do, the shot of the two characters on the bow was about the SHIP, people. It was romantic because the ship, which demands a long shot because it is very, very big, reminds us these characters are living on borrowed time, even if they live beautifully. In the wake of that one iconic shot, every filmmaker who wants to emphasize an emotional point pulls way, way back with the camera - every one except Eastwood. Thank god.
Just imagine the helicopter shots of Tara we'd be bombarded with if they remade Gone with the Wind. No thanks. There's a fortress at the very heart of Hollywood's finest traditions beset on all sides by zealot cyborg teenagers, and Clint Eastwood defends that fortress single-handedly.
Those who know me have seen some minimalist aesthetic tendencies, and Michael Mann is the film industry's master of economy. When it comes to performance, when it comes to story, or stunts, or anything at all, he cuts through all the distractions and gets right to the point.
For that same reason, those moments where he lets the elevated emotions out (or brings out the heavy artillery) come across as super important, instead of merely expected.
On the other hand, Clint Eastwood is one of the emotionally richest filmmakers working today, and he gets his feelings across simply. His films are about careful, attentive performance, with delicate use of color, with astute cinematography... He loves his actors, and it never gets more complicated than that. If there's a touching moment in an Eastwood film, it's touching because the actors have affected one another so profoundly that we, in turn, are affected.
No five hundred foot swirling crane shot is going to replicate that. As much as I love Titanic, and I do, the shot of the two characters on the bow was about the SHIP, people. It was romantic because the ship, which demands a long shot because it is very, very big, reminds us these characters are living on borrowed time, even if they live beautifully. In the wake of that one iconic shot, every filmmaker who wants to emphasize an emotional point pulls way, way back with the camera - every one except Eastwood. Thank god.
Just imagine the helicopter shots of Tara we'd be bombarded with if they remade Gone with the Wind. No thanks. There's a fortress at the very heart of Hollywood's finest traditions beset on all sides by zealot cyborg teenagers, and Clint Eastwood defends that fortress single-handedly.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Ten Filmmakers
On one of my chatrooms, I was recently asked who my favorite filmmakers are. Maybe that's not the question I answered, but it got me thinking... These are the directors who stick out as the most influential to me, in no particular order. In each case, I've offered a quick note as to how and why I love them:
Stanley Kubrick
More than anything, I admire Kubrick's daring. While his choice in content is consistently provocative, it's really the things he demands of his actors that push the boundaries and challenge me to better myself. Each performance he directed is a study in the limits of human endurance, morality, understanding, and emotional balance - and in some cases, consciousness itself. Once he has that edge defined, he martials all the forces of Hollywood to make that journey real and tangible for the actor, and for us. For me, 2001: A Space Odyssey is a lifelong touchstone - although picking a favorite Kubrick film seems cheeky.
Andrei Tarkovski
To me, Tarkovski is better than any other director at capturing the subtleties of the human experience, in all it's beauty and confusion. To get the really good stuff, you have to wait for it. No filmmaker is quite so patient as he. Solaris is by far my favorite, but I'm a big fan of Andrei Rublyov.
Ingmar Bergman
If Tarkovski is the hunter behind a snowblind, Bergman is a master trapper. Working with actors is a divine pleasure and a gift, and Bergman knows actors better than anyone. On the one hand, he never let his favorite ones go! On the other hand, a new actor makes writing and directing feel just like Christmas. Testing, exploring, and sussing them out was the fine work of Bergman's life. By baiting them with his words and his presence and then capturing them on camera, he gave us the very best performances of many of the best actors alive today. My favorite Bergman films are Fanny & Alexander and Autumn Sonata.
Steven Spielberg
Very little needs to be said here. Spielberg's greatest gift is in finding the beauty and humanity in any situation, and in making it obvious on the screen. To me, the best stuff is his most challenging: Empire of the Sun, A.I., and Munich.
Peter Weir
While I love Witness and Master and Commander, Fearless is my favorite. More than any other director working today, I feel Peter Weir is chasing the truth behind his characters. Each film he makes is so considered and patient, and yet do deliberate and relentless in it's inexorable peeling of the onion. His heroes are informed by masterful performances, clearly forged by the careful, intimate collaboration of a script, an actor, and a director. Of all the directors here, I'd most love to work on a Peter Weir set.
Peter Hyams
Who doesn't love Outland? I'm also a sucker for 2010 and Hanover Street. More than any other director I've seen, Peter Hyams has a deep love of revealing details. Conversations about what mustard is best with a New York hot dog go naturally with the air breaking maneuvers of a ship in Jupiter's outer atmosphere. In a war torn London, the thing that connects two lonely, tired souls is the English ritual of tea. These are the moments when Peter Hyams really shines, and I love it.
George Clooney
What can a guy like me say about George Clooney? Of all the people working in Hollywood today, he's got the best attitude toward leadership and it comes through on the screen - especially when he's dealing with subject matter he knows. Creating the worlds of Confessions of a Dangerous Mind and Good Night and Good Luck relied on his knowledge of the old world of network broadcasting, and that confidence and his natural charisma gave him what he needed to lead a cast and crew through what was obviously an amazing experience - and it shows on screen. Of the two, Good Night is my favorite. In the case of Leatherheads, it seemed as though the cast was having as much fun, but his grip on the production as a whole was too tight. Maybe it was because he was dealing in fantasy, rather than a world he knew backwards and forwards. Comedy like Leatherheads needs to be boozy and loose, and that can't be manufactured. It must be given space. Allowed. All the same, I loved it.
Stephen Soderbergh
Of course, Stephen Soderbergh and George Clooney have a lot in common - that's why they're such good friends, or so it seems. At the same time, what i love about Soderbergh is how intrepid and loose he is with his characters. If he decides to tell the story of a toy planty worker, he's gonna let that character find their own story on their own terms. To bring that story to life on the screen, he gets intimate instead of getting forceful. Instead of making them step in line, he expores their story - and he does it with a zest that's totally mesmerizing. Winning, even! Right now, my two favorites are Bubble and Out of Sight. Close runners up are Traffic and Sex, Lies, and Videotape.
Tony Gilroy
Most people don't know who Tony Gilroy is. He's the writer from The Bourne Identity, who last year directed Michael Clayton, which I loved. Right now, his second feature, Duplicity, is in theaters. I still haven't seen it. What I love about Michael Clayton, and about the writing of Tony Gilroy in general, is how he finds the pulp and the fun in modern institution, and in the ordinary. Michael Clayton is as smutty a detective story as there ever was, but it chooses truth as it's setting, legitimizing its content and elevating its context at the same time. How cool is that? How can you cast someone like George Clooney in a pulpy whodunit, and still have it feel so true to life? Amazing. I'm very excited for Duplicity, where it seems he's grounded the sassy banter of something like The Thin Man in the hard world of corporate doube-dealing. This may be the first real Julia Roberts movie since Erin Brockovich.
Charlie Chaplin
Wow. Ok, this one may seem out of left field... There's two things I take from Chaplin. On the one hand, his ability to just make movies is unparalleled, even today. He just went and did it, and invented huge chunks of cinematography along the way! Only Robert Rodriguez comes close. On the other hand, he pushed melodrama to the limits of it's emotional complexity, and never JUST gave the audience what they wanted. Even his most comic moments are riddled with sadness and loss, and while people walk out of the theater having gotten the product that was advertised, there was a monkeywrench at work in their minds and hearts. None of his films just leave your mind once you've seen them. In the horror of war, he found laughter. In the silly delirium of love, he found profound tragedy. You can't have one without the other. Tell me you can, and you're a damn liar. So many films today don't understand this simple lesson. While I'll watch anything of Chaplin's, my favorite has to be City Lights.
Stanley Kubrick
More than anything, I admire Kubrick's daring. While his choice in content is consistently provocative, it's really the things he demands of his actors that push the boundaries and challenge me to better myself. Each performance he directed is a study in the limits of human endurance, morality, understanding, and emotional balance - and in some cases, consciousness itself. Once he has that edge defined, he martials all the forces of Hollywood to make that journey real and tangible for the actor, and for us. For me, 2001: A Space Odyssey is a lifelong touchstone - although picking a favorite Kubrick film seems cheeky.
Andrei Tarkovski
To me, Tarkovski is better than any other director at capturing the subtleties of the human experience, in all it's beauty and confusion. To get the really good stuff, you have to wait for it. No filmmaker is quite so patient as he. Solaris is by far my favorite, but I'm a big fan of Andrei Rublyov.
Ingmar Bergman
If Tarkovski is the hunter behind a snowblind, Bergman is a master trapper. Working with actors is a divine pleasure and a gift, and Bergman knows actors better than anyone. On the one hand, he never let his favorite ones go! On the other hand, a new actor makes writing and directing feel just like Christmas. Testing, exploring, and sussing them out was the fine work of Bergman's life. By baiting them with his words and his presence and then capturing them on camera, he gave us the very best performances of many of the best actors alive today. My favorite Bergman films are Fanny & Alexander and Autumn Sonata.
Steven Spielberg
Very little needs to be said here. Spielberg's greatest gift is in finding the beauty and humanity in any situation, and in making it obvious on the screen. To me, the best stuff is his most challenging: Empire of the Sun, A.I., and Munich.
Peter Weir
While I love Witness and Master and Commander, Fearless is my favorite. More than any other director working today, I feel Peter Weir is chasing the truth behind his characters. Each film he makes is so considered and patient, and yet do deliberate and relentless in it's inexorable peeling of the onion. His heroes are informed by masterful performances, clearly forged by the careful, intimate collaboration of a script, an actor, and a director. Of all the directors here, I'd most love to work on a Peter Weir set.
Peter Hyams
Who doesn't love Outland? I'm also a sucker for 2010 and Hanover Street. More than any other director I've seen, Peter Hyams has a deep love of revealing details. Conversations about what mustard is best with a New York hot dog go naturally with the air breaking maneuvers of a ship in Jupiter's outer atmosphere. In a war torn London, the thing that connects two lonely, tired souls is the English ritual of tea. These are the moments when Peter Hyams really shines, and I love it.
George Clooney
What can a guy like me say about George Clooney? Of all the people working in Hollywood today, he's got the best attitude toward leadership and it comes through on the screen - especially when he's dealing with subject matter he knows. Creating the worlds of Confessions of a Dangerous Mind and Good Night and Good Luck relied on his knowledge of the old world of network broadcasting, and that confidence and his natural charisma gave him what he needed to lead a cast and crew through what was obviously an amazing experience - and it shows on screen. Of the two, Good Night is my favorite. In the case of Leatherheads, it seemed as though the cast was having as much fun, but his grip on the production as a whole was too tight. Maybe it was because he was dealing in fantasy, rather than a world he knew backwards and forwards. Comedy like Leatherheads needs to be boozy and loose, and that can't be manufactured. It must be given space. Allowed. All the same, I loved it.
Stephen Soderbergh
Of course, Stephen Soderbergh and George Clooney have a lot in common - that's why they're such good friends, or so it seems. At the same time, what i love about Soderbergh is how intrepid and loose he is with his characters. If he decides to tell the story of a toy planty worker, he's gonna let that character find their own story on their own terms. To bring that story to life on the screen, he gets intimate instead of getting forceful. Instead of making them step in line, he expores their story - and he does it with a zest that's totally mesmerizing. Winning, even! Right now, my two favorites are Bubble and Out of Sight. Close runners up are Traffic and Sex, Lies, and Videotape.
Tony Gilroy
Most people don't know who Tony Gilroy is. He's the writer from The Bourne Identity, who last year directed Michael Clayton, which I loved. Right now, his second feature, Duplicity, is in theaters. I still haven't seen it. What I love about Michael Clayton, and about the writing of Tony Gilroy in general, is how he finds the pulp and the fun in modern institution, and in the ordinary. Michael Clayton is as smutty a detective story as there ever was, but it chooses truth as it's setting, legitimizing its content and elevating its context at the same time. How cool is that? How can you cast someone like George Clooney in a pulpy whodunit, and still have it feel so true to life? Amazing. I'm very excited for Duplicity, where it seems he's grounded the sassy banter of something like The Thin Man in the hard world of corporate doube-dealing. This may be the first real Julia Roberts movie since Erin Brockovich.
Charlie Chaplin
Wow. Ok, this one may seem out of left field... There's two things I take from Chaplin. On the one hand, his ability to just make movies is unparalleled, even today. He just went and did it, and invented huge chunks of cinematography along the way! Only Robert Rodriguez comes close. On the other hand, he pushed melodrama to the limits of it's emotional complexity, and never JUST gave the audience what they wanted. Even his most comic moments are riddled with sadness and loss, and while people walk out of the theater having gotten the product that was advertised, there was a monkeywrench at work in their minds and hearts. None of his films just leave your mind once you've seen them. In the horror of war, he found laughter. In the silly delirium of love, he found profound tragedy. You can't have one without the other. Tell me you can, and you're a damn liar. So many films today don't understand this simple lesson. While I'll watch anything of Chaplin's, my favorite has to be City Lights.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Anathem, by Neal Stephenson
This weekend, I finished a really interesting book recommended by my friend Ian, called Anathem by Neal Stephenson. For those who know his work but not the name, Neal Stephenson wrote Snow Crash, The Diamond Age, and Cryptonomicon. Throughout all his work, there's a deep love of the internal lore of his worlds and a profound knack for taking something really, really complicated and making it really, really funny.
Basically, Anathem is about a monastic scholar in an alternate universe, who lives in the kind of sacred thinktank Socrates might have devised. When an unidentified spacecraft appears in an unusual orbit, Erasmus uses it as an opportunity to explore the nature of human consciousness through Socratic Dialogues while the rest of the world quakes in fear.
On the one hand, it's an unusual take on First Contact, and possibly the most reasonable. On the other hand, it serves up an examination of human evolution with more scrutiny than anything since 2001: A Space Odyssey, and does it with hindsight into quantum science and string theory.
If that doesn't sound interesting to you, then the structure of this book will probably frustrate you - these are the kinds of things the characters are interested in. If you're reading this and thinking to yourself "Socratic Monks, Aliens, and Quantum theory? Hmm...", then allow me to further titillate you by suggesting that these monks are masters of the fighting arts, and that those same monks will be blasted off into space.
Then brace yourself for one of the most innovative, provocative, and mind-bending science-fiction stories of the last several years. Indeed, this is science fiction in the true sense. Neal Stephenson knows his quantum theory, and is writing fiction that answers the "givens" of our most praxic age.
If you're into the classics, cutting-edge science, aestheticism, architecture, mysteries both ancient and contemporary, or rigorous intelligent conversation, then Anathem is certainly for you. If you consider science-fiction to be more of a setting than a genre, then skip it. There's only one ray gun, the lasers are the wrong color, and the killer fighting monks don't really come in until later. At least, not until they've been properly contemplated.
Personally, I loved it.
Basically, Anathem is about a monastic scholar in an alternate universe, who lives in the kind of sacred thinktank Socrates might have devised. When an unidentified spacecraft appears in an unusual orbit, Erasmus uses it as an opportunity to explore the nature of human consciousness through Socratic Dialogues while the rest of the world quakes in fear.
On the one hand, it's an unusual take on First Contact, and possibly the most reasonable. On the other hand, it serves up an examination of human evolution with more scrutiny than anything since 2001: A Space Odyssey, and does it with hindsight into quantum science and string theory.
If that doesn't sound interesting to you, then the structure of this book will probably frustrate you - these are the kinds of things the characters are interested in. If you're reading this and thinking to yourself "Socratic Monks, Aliens, and Quantum theory? Hmm...", then allow me to further titillate you by suggesting that these monks are masters of the fighting arts, and that those same monks will be blasted off into space.
Then brace yourself for one of the most innovative, provocative, and mind-bending science-fiction stories of the last several years. Indeed, this is science fiction in the true sense. Neal Stephenson knows his quantum theory, and is writing fiction that answers the "givens" of our most praxic age.
If you're into the classics, cutting-edge science, aestheticism, architecture, mysteries both ancient and contemporary, or rigorous intelligent conversation, then Anathem is certainly for you. If you consider science-fiction to be more of a setting than a genre, then skip it. There's only one ray gun, the lasers are the wrong color, and the killer fighting monks don't really come in until later. At least, not until they've been properly contemplated.
Personally, I loved it.
Friday, April 3, 2009
On Plagiarism
In conversations amongst aspirant screenwriters and those close to them, the question of whether the Hollywood skeezebags seems to be a constant topic - but it's come up more than once in the last week, so I'm stating my views here.
Let's say you're scared to share you work. Great! Don't! If all bad writers kept their work to themselves, people wouldn't dread reading scripts.
Look. How many writers really believe that other people's stuff - especially undiscovered stuff - is better than theirs? If I read something in a script that pertains to one of my own projects, nine times out of ten, my response is going to be "I can do that better." To prove I was right, I do it. Plagiarism is never an issue.
Nobody's going to steal someone else's dialogue, description, or basic story structure and context. If they do, they don't have the drive to become a good writer anyway. They're not competition.
If someone steals a whole script, WGA and copyright protection make the situation pretty cut and dry.
Of course, I've heard stories about some high-profile exceptions. Whatever. Generally, the work those guys do doesn't interest me. It's a safe bet the work I do doesn't interest them, either.
Good ideas are supposed to get out there and affect how other people do things. If someone takes an idea of yours to a new level, learn from them. If someone copies you without bringing something new and unique to the mix, then they aren't ready to move forward. They're still catching up.
Lastly, if you're that afraid that someone will make more of your idea than you can, your script isn't ready to be read by ANYONE. Know why you're feeling insecure? It's not because the script thief is out to get you, friendo.
You see the potential in your idea. Good for you. Put it on the page, and THEN ask me to read it. Keep writing, and when the script is as good as you can possibly make it, get some notes from your internal community and write some more. When you feel the script is stronger than the idea behind it, theft is no longer a concern.
As a rule, it's fair to say that the more afraid someone is of having their script (or idea) stolen, the less ready that script is for production. Instead of using that fear to annoy the folks you're trying to get help from, try using it as a barometer of how much more writing you have to do.
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