Posts Tagged ‘screenwriting’

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Life’s a Pitch

November 16, 2014
"...and then the T-Rex goes Rraaarrw!"

“…and then the T-Rex goes Rraaarrw!”

Writers and directors frequently talk about the importance of a good pitch. For writers, this is them in a meeting with a potential producer trying to get them to buy (figuratively or literally) their script/treatment/vague idea scribbled on a napkin in Starbucks. For directors, this is often the same audience but this time trying to get them to buy you and your take on this script you have/have been given to read. In both cases, it’s technically a job interview. As I mentioned before, auditions and interviews are prolonged and generally painful experiences for everyone involved, not just the dude in the spotlit chair, so it’s a good idea to get some practice in before you bank your career on your ability to hook an audience with your pitch.

But pitching as a skill also serves another useful purpose which I’ve only recently realised. If you’re writing a script and are having trouble sorting out story points (particularly character and event points- see previous blog), find a willing friend and pitch the story to them. This forces you to see the story from an audience’s point of view and tell it in a way that is easy to follow, compelling and full of narrative moments. And perhaps it’s because of this that the best pitching audience are film-watchers and not film-makers. The former will see the story in their heads as you tell it, filling in the gaps with their own images and actors and everything, whereas the latter are more likely to cast a practical eye on the story, thinking about cinematography or editing or budgetary concerns, knowing full-well you intend to film or write it.

Recently, I pitched a feature film idea I’ve been chewing on for a year or so to a couple of friends separately. Before these pitches, I really only had a basic premise, a couple of characters and some moments/set-pieces. I hadn’t started on a script- usually I like to get a rough structure in place before I fire up Celtx- and didn’t even have a brief treatment scribbled on the back of an envelope. What I had was in my head.

But when I was in the pub with my mate Chris (as accurately recreated above) and the conversation turned to what I was working on, the usual vagaries I might spin to someone else receded and I started to tell him about this feature film. And I did something I don’t normally do when pitching. I skipped over the “it’s like this film meets that film” back-of-the-DVD summary and started with the “we open on a dark side street…” The first scene description.

I told the story from the beginning.

I introduced characters as they appeared, described the look and feel of things, revealed plot points and backstory as you would find it in the story and let the events unfold naturally. And in the process, I was able to see plot holes (either for myself or because Chris asked about them) and dramatic through line. It got me back to the basics of storytelling and freed me from all the practical concerns that come with directing your own script and the marketing concerns that a producer might focus on. It allowed me to tell the story on its own merits- something I frequently forget to do in a professional pitching situation.

It also feels collaborative. My ideas weren’t set in stone, so when Chris made observations or suggestions and got immersed in the story, I was in a place where I could take note of these things and work them in depending on what he responded to. Chris actually contributed to several key plot points as a result of this, as well as reminding me of stories or franchises mine might be similar to (and thus might want to differentiate myself from).

When I got home from the pub I quickly took down all the new notes while they were fresh and it gave me new motivation to crack on with the script. A few weeks later, I pitched the new story to my mate Mike (also in a pub- it’s where all the best production meetings happen!) and his reactions also built on the film’s structure, characters and moments. The whole project also swelled into a trilogy, which I now have mapped out. God only knows if I’ll actually get to make it, but still…

So pitching is a great way to hammer your story into shape, but does it work the other way? Does simply telling your story work when pitching to other film professionals, like producers and executives?

For the most part, yes.

Remember, that’s what they’re hiring a director for- to tell that story. If they just needed someone to put things in front of the camera or focus on the audience demographics, they could have found someone with less imagination and communication skills to do that. Obviously, you need to understand something of their interests (demographics, budget, key markets etc) and communicate your understanding so they have confidence in you, but your pitch should again just focus on the story and your treatment of it.

While I’ve not yet pitched to producers for feature film gigs, I have pitched to producers for web series like “Persona” and pretty much every music video gig (and quite a few corporate shoots) essentially involves a pitch of some sort. And it’s always the same: Tell your story, engage their interest and move them emotionally, intellectually or viscerally. Once they’re hooked and on board, address the practical issues, but always with solutions where possible.

Sounds bloody obvious now, but this is actually the director’s best method of pitching. Treat your audience, no matter whether they be filmmaking co-conspirators on the project or secular acquaintances, as just that- an audience and everything else will fall into place.

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The Four Elements of Storytelling

July 4, 2014

I’ve been working on a bunch of scripts recently from the ground up and it’s meant focusing a lot on story and how it works. We often take story for granted, but there’s a system and structure to making it effective. There are various approaches to this, from the writings of Robert McKee and Joseph Campbell to the story process of Disney and Pixar…

… And, somewhat foolishly, I thought I’d put my opinions on the matter in the same box. So here goes…

As I see it, a story can basically be broken down into four elements- The Big Picture, Events, Characters and The World. Generally none of these are more important than the other (although your story and your budget might tweak your focus somewhat) but if you neglect one of them, the story is likely to fall flat.

The Big Picture

BigPicture

This is the overall arc of the story. It plots how things change, develop and grow, the fundamental themes and ultimately the story’s purpose (aka why bother to tell this story at all?). The Big Picture is the bit where you can distill the story into as simple an idea as you like, breaking it down into such tropes as “boy meets girl” or “naive youth goes on journey to save his world.” Essentially, The Big Picture is where you answer the question “what’s this story about?” in the broadest sense. It’s also where the story’s themes and subtext find root. For instance, Paul Verhoven’s Robocop is about consumerist America and the fascist power of big corporations (while the much-crappier remake is about drone warfare or something) and this thematic idea informs all manner of things in the movie.

The Big Picture isn’t about details, it’s about the general experience. It’s the message and feeling that the audience take away with them and it needs to be in the back of the director’s and writer’s mind the whole time because it’s what guides and shapes the film.

The Events

Events

This, confusingly, might also called “the plot.” It is essentially the series of obstacles, interactions, beats, moments and resolutions that make up the backbone of the story. These are normally the things beginners and non-storytellers focus on when trying to tell a story- but strangely, on their own, the events really don’t hold much of the audience’s attention (as anyone who’s listened to pub anecdotes can tell you). Much of this is because although they advance the story by providing constant changes in scenery and situation, they don’t emotionally engage audiences- that role falls to characters. The Events are a vehicle for everything else and without them, the story doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere.

A certain amount of interest and drama can be created in the way and order the events are revealed- such as flashbacks or the ever-popular non-linear, out-of-order structure. But doing so in isolation just becomes a puzzle the audience has little interest in solving.

The Characters

Characters

The characters provide the connection between the audience and the rest of the story. They need to be appealing and/or interesting and, particularly for the protagonists, somewhat relatable. Primary characters need an arc and it’s this course of development and change that contributes to the core story. Secondary characters can get away with little to no development, but it’s still best to have some growth otherwise they lose some of their believability.

Audiences engage with characters, either because they relate to them in some way or because they have some appeal which keeps them interesting. Remember “appeal” doesn’t mean “like” it just means they are interesting to watch. Some of the most appealing movie characters in history are thoroughly unlikeable as people (bad guys are a great example of this), but engaging enough on screen to carry a film or their plot threads.

The World

World

The World is what surrounds the characters and provides the backdrop for the events. It’s obvious how important this is in a scifi or fantasy movie, where the world has to be created from scratch, but it’s equally important in more contemporary, realistic settings. For instance, both The Avengers and Cloverfield are action films set in contemporary, post-9/11 New York, but the worlds and their rules are completely different.

The World is where the rules are set and the other story elements are given context. By developing the world, you are adding depth and believability to the story, making the setting almost like another character in the film. And just like the characters, the audience needs to relate to it and or find it appealing. Is your world a worthwhile place to spend the next 90mins or so?

All events in the story should either come from the actions of the characters or the machinations of the world around them, so neglecting this aspect can seriously impact plot progression as well.

To see how all this comes together, let’s look at a film that most people have seen and are familiar with since it’s a cornerstone of our culture…

Mega Shark vs Giant Octopus.

No, not really. That heap of self-aware cinematic dog shit is more the kidney stone of our culture. Let’s look at Star Wars. The first one, not the less-than-stellar prequels.

Nostalgia aside, Star Wars is hardly a well-directed piece of cinema. But it is a well-constructed story and much of that is down to the balance between the events, characters, world and the big picture.

Star Wars was intentionally designed as a classic hero’s journey, based on the works of Joseph Campbell and his “Hero with a Thousand Faces.” This makes its Big Picture fairly easy to adhere to- naive youth gets pulled into a greater conflict by a wise old man, learns to be a warrior and ultimately defeats the great evil. The fundamental themes are good and evil, heroism and coming-of-age. If there is any subtext or parallels, it’s with classic stories of heroism, knights of the round table, samurai etc Essentially, it’s a fairy tale set in space.

The characters are also atypical of that source material. Luke is a naive farm boy who dreams of more and over the course of the story, he becomes a Jedi knight like his father (or at least starts to in the first film) and ultimately saves the day with his ability to fire proton torpedoes down thermal exhaust ports. As the protagonist, it’s him we follow and see grow the most. In the beginning, he’s uncertain and doesn’t want to disappoint his uncle. He also lacks self-belief, thinking that he’s not capable of doing anything to help the rebellion. By the end of the movie, he’s saved the princess, signed up to pilot an x-wing and even learnt to turn off the targeting computer and trust the force. It’s essentially a scifi reworking of the warrior’s journey.

Other characters also have arcs- Han Solo goes from being self-centred to helping the rebellion at the 59th minute and Leia learns to trust and respect lower-class heroes like Luke and Han. The other characters are somewhat static in their development, even if they do provide backstory reveals like Obi Wan Kenobi.

The Events are quite varied and fast moving. The first third of the movie follows the droids in their mission to deliver Leia’s message, the middle is Luke and Han’s attempt to rescue Leia and the final third is the assault on the Death Star. For the most part, each plot event is driven forward by the macguffin of the Death Star plans, who has them, who wants them and what they’ll be used for. Very few scenes are truly superfluous. Locations vary too, just to keep things interesting- from sterile space craft to desert planets, old ruins with hidden bases to the cobbled-together environs of the Millennium Falcon.

The World is where Star Wars really comes into its own. Aside from all the various planets and aliens seen or hinted at, there is all the implied history of the empire and the rebellion, the Jedi and the Sith. There are referred-to characters like Luke’s father, Jabba the Hutt and the Emperor, alien languages (that frequently don’t get fully translated) and all manner of backstory (thanks to Lucas going a bit nuts on his yellow note paper). It helps that the effects were good enough to be able to put all this stuff on screen and make the world feel rich, believable and interesting.

So that’s my take on what makes a story work, the four story elements of character, event, world and the big picture. In my experience it seems to do the trick and at the very least gives me as a director something to work with throughout production.

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Shoddy Blueprints, Shoddy House.

February 25, 2013

In my last post I pointed out that I wasn’t much of a writer, so this post might come off as the words of a hypocrite… but fuck it, it’s my blog and I’ll voice my ill-informed opinions if I want to. Disclaimer over and here’s my issue…

Why are so many scripts shit?

I’m not talking about Hollywood movies- we all know that the industrial movie machine takes its toll on talent and creativity and effectively rapes scripts of them both- I’m talking about the sort of scripts kicking about at this end of the filmmaking world. Scripts that haven’t had a producer/studio/investor altering, diluting, genericising (is that even a word?) and adding more explosions/effects/celebrities/boobs to the film to make it more “commercial.” No, these are scripts by relatively new writers looking to get them made by equally new directors. Like me.

Over the last year I’ve been putting myself forwards for a lot of directing gigs- after all, it’s one thing to direct your own project and another to be hired by someone else. Most of these projects are unpaid but the networking and exposure possibilities are worth it. I’ve been offered a number of these jobs but, for me, they’ve always fallen flat at the first hurdle- once they’ve sent me the script.

Gaston

One of the first examples of this was a short film about an elderly guy who argues with his wife. The dialogue was stilted (but that’s not usually a deal-breaker since you and the actors will adjust that before you film anything anyway) and the film began with one of my pet peeves- the old “guy wakes up and we see his morning routine” bollocks. I hate that- unless routine is key to the story, theme or character, don’t open a story with it. It only goes to show you have little to no imagination as to how to show or infer character through interaction or design. It’s the film equivalent of a large, chunky paragraph on page one of a novel telling you everything you need to know about the main character. It’s shit. But shitty beginnings aside, the script’s big flaw came at the end. While witnessing their long-suffering domestic friction, we see the old boy assembling a noose and stool in the garage. You think he’s going to top himself, but at the end of the 4 page script the wife comes in, he gets her to stand on the stool to change the lightbulb and then kills her with the noose. As he steps outside, smiling, he gets a phone call from someone congratulating him on his retirement. That’s it. The end. I mean, what the fuck? I mean, okay the twist works, but what exactly was the point in all this? It wouldn’t have been so bad if he was attempting the perfect crime and we had several scenes setting up an alibi and him insinuating to third parties that she was suicidal- so that when he kills her he’s made it look like she did it herself. But we didn’t. We just got a bullshit twist with no real purpose behind it.

I had another script sent to me- again involving an elderly character and ironic, twisty murder (someone on twitter must’ve said that festivals were looking for that sort of shit and a bunch of writers listened and eagerly started typing…). Old lady is wary of strangers and is being plagued by random door-knockings at tea-time every day. She gets so paranoid that after no less than six of these repetitive occurrences (all of which the audience are needlessly subjected to seeing throughout the first five minutes of a seven minute film), she waits at the door with a shotgun and shoots the caller the next time. When she inspects the teenager’s body she finds a note from her daughter telling the teen to call on his grandma- which the twist implies is our little old dear. So in her fear (and probable senility) she murdered her grandson. Now again, aside from the structural banality of having to sit through essentially the same mundane knock-knock-noone’s-there action again and again for over half the film’s runtime and the unsound internal logic (why would you knock and run if you were visiting your gran?), you also have to deal with an ending that only exists to create a shock twist. It’s not satisfying or poignant or clever or important. It’s just there to prove that what the writer writeth he can taketh away… which is like a DoP using 28 lights in a simple interior scene because he fucking well can!

Cartman

I’m not going to list all the scripts that tumbled with ill-deserved optimism into my inbox, but there’re a few more worth mentioning. And they’re all comedies. Well, they would be… if they satisfied the single simple premise of comedy and were actually funny…

I know comedy is very subjective and what makes one person piss their pants with laughter will make another shit themselves out of unbridled boredom but I think that even if the brand of comedy isn’t your thing, you’re usually able to recognise that it is meant to be funny and that someone else will laugh at it. I struggled with these scripts- a sitcom set in a leisure centre where the writer’s favourite character had all the (supposedly) funny lines and everyone else was pure cardboard and a sketch show predicated around the idea that if you repeat an unfunny joke in several sketches it somehow magically becomes funny- and because the writers were the producers/employers and wouldn’t want to change the script, I had to decline the job.

I suppose that’s the bit that really bugs me. That I had to turn down a job because I didn’t think the script was good enough. No matter what I did, I was tied to the page in front of me and the end result would be, in my opinion at least, sub-par. And if I’m not being paid for it, why would I put out sub-par work? It’ll only make me look bad.

Am I being picky? Or am I expecting too much from writers who are at a similar stage in their career as I am in mine? I mean, I’m relatively inexperienced and don’t have any real professional broadcast or feature credits. I make mistakes all the time- it’s how I learn, how we all learn. Surely writers should be allowed to make mistakes at the same level? And, yes, they should. Yet still it bugs me because my mistakes as a director are frequently filtered through the rest of the cast and crew and its usually only the editor (which is often me anyway) who has to deal with them. A writer’s mistakes affect everything after that last full stop is typed. If the character is written badly, the actor will perform it badly and/or the director will direct it badly. If the structure is poor the whole film is unsteady and even the most talented of editors might struggle to fix such a thing. In all cases, the error will find its way to the audience and blame will often fall on the director and rightfully so because they are the ombudsman for the audience. While I don’t agree entirely with the analogy that the script is a blueprint, the basic premise holds- if the blueprint isn’t well-designed or thought out, the house will likely collapse.

"Don't worry, it's meant to look like that..."

“Don’t worry, it’s meant to look like that, honest…”

Additionally, some writers are precious about their scripts and hate it when directors change things. I can understand that- the script being their creation and them assumedly putting energy and hours of work into it. But the script is there to be made- it’s only the first iteration of the story and one an audience won’t see unless they scour the internet for it. Just as every parent must eventually come to terms with the idea that their children will grow up and you can’t keep them as kids indefinitely (unless they’re Michael Jackson), every serious screenwriter has to realise that a script will inevitably change when it goes through the puberty of a film adaptation.

All that aside, it just means that I’m currently turning down projects because the scripts are either not a good enough starting point or are impractical to work with. Shame I don’t have a prolific and flexible writer living nearby anymore, otherwise I’d probably have a lot more completed projects under my belt…

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There in Black and White

February 12, 2013

I’ve said before that I’m not much of a writer. Hence the lack of auteur-ed material in my back catalogue. But when you only know a handful of good writers and don’t want to exploit them unnecessarily, you have to write your own shit and hope for the best. Maybe get them in to rewrite things later, but that usually means writing the first draft yourself.

Hemingway

For a while now, I’ve had this little idea for a showreel-worthy short film fermenting in my noggin. Something that might be my calling card and the thing that kicks my career into touch. So I’m keen to get this on paper, on camera and then on screen. But it’s quite a genre/style blend and certain parts of it are quite esoteric- combining elements from Hong Kong heroic bloodshed movies, crime dramas and film noir. Not an easy thing to get a handle on and I don’t know any writers who’d get it right off the bat. So it looks like I need to do the legwork- write the treatment and in all likelihood, the first draft- so that when I do pass it over to a proper writer, they have something to go on.

So I’ve had to force myself to write a treatment.

I never used to like, or more accurately use, the whole treatment-then-script-then-rewrite process. I used to just dive into the script, start at the beginning then work my way to the end. Which I suppose explains why my IMDB listing doesn’t have any screenwriting credits. Well, proper pro credits- “The Last Serenade” doesn’t count… But I’ve now grown to realise the importance of the treatment- in particular getting the story working there before you start writing the script proper.

As a director, one of my… things… is internal story logic. Character actions and motivations have to make sense. You can’t just fudge things (big things at least) to create the dramatic moment or effect you want- everything has to come from a real place. If you fudge it, the actors will point it out to you on set, the editor will point it out to you in the edit suite and audiences will point it out to anyone who’ll listen five minutes after they’ve tuned out of the film. So it needs to work structurally and that’s what the treatment’s for. Ironing out those story wrinkles and plotholes and getting the important details right.

sonicscrewdriver

The other thing the treatment’s good for is pacing and delivery. Treatments are written in the present tense- as the film unfolds, exactly how an audience experiences it. If nothing else reinforces the director’s role as the audience’s ombudsman, the treatment is it.

So I’ve been writing mine and I’ve found that some things like the general structure (the opening scenes, the plot twist and the placement of the action sequences) were already set in place in my head but others (like the drip-feed like reveals of information and backstory and the logical causes for the moments I had later) were a mystery. This is where the treatment really comes into its own. Each scene is a paragraph- at least it is in my method, other more capable writers probably do things differently/better- so if you know a scene has to go here but have no idea what it is, just write any old shit to fill the space. You can and will change it later. I used to do the same thing when writing scripts- write the scenes I knew or was enthused about and put placeholders in for the ones I didn’t. I found that doing things this way meant I can see the story as a whole and judge how and when to reveal story points better.

And ultimately, fixing the story points is what this is all in aid of. On a related if tangential note, I’ve been seeing a lot of scripts recently that are poorly structured or badly written. I know that at the stage I’m at in my career and the sort of erratic circles I move in, I shouldn’t expect miracles, but these are from people serious enough about writing to call themselves writers. There have been sitcoms and sketch shows that just flat-out aren’t funny, character dramas that make absolutely no sense, genre pieces that have less homages and more full-on uninspired rip-offs and short films that kill the main character off at the end (supposedly for a shock twist, but actually just because the writer has a creation complex and doesn’t know how to finish the film otherwise). I don’t want this project to have those flaws. I want it to work for me as a filmmaker and for an audience.

But if I can nail the treatment, I can get someone talented in to do the rest of the script and I can concentrate on directing the shit out of it instead.

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A Short-ish Review of the Year that Was…

January 8, 2013

Yep, this is a recap post, but since 2012 was as eventful as a mormon’s party planner it hopefully won’t be a stupidly long one!

Meghann and Conor in "Eliza's Persona"

Meghann and Conor in “Eliza’s Persona”

2012 started extremely well with me landing my first gig where someone hired me for my directing ability. This is a landmark moment in a director’s early career and I threw a lot of myself into it. The project was Persona– a soap designed exclusively to stream from a smartphone or tablet app- and it was a chance to direct dramatic material that didn’t have a sci-fi element. It also meant that I was able to work with other skilled crew members such as DoP Phil Moreton, AD Emily Turton and AC Murat Akyildiz. The film looked and great as a result. I was challenged by the show’s producer, Don Allen, to come up with a story with a current events angle so I created one about a soldier returning from Afghanistan with PTSD and how it affects his non-military life. The script was written by the talented Martyn Deakin and the three principal actors- Meghann Marty, Conor Kennedy and Jake Ferretti- really bought it to life. To date, “Eliza’s Persona” has had a very positive response from audiences which is testament to the work of everyone involved and it’s probably the directing work I’m most proud of.

DSC_0234

In April, almost immediately after we’d wrapped on Persona, I was hired to direct the dramatic sequences in a promo video for Snowdance acting classes. The client had arranged for a DoP for me, but it was only when I got to set that I realised that he had limited knowledge of cinematography and lighting… and a Canon 5D mkII. Since he was happy to defer to me, I ended up lighting and operating (with a camera I didn’t know very well) as well as directing in locations that were too modern and austere for the piece. The end result was a mixed bag visually and performances varied from great to stilted- the two actors were excellent given the short scene they had, but the presenter wasn’t confident in his delivery and got too caught up on the exactness of the lines rather than what he was actually saying. I also got roped into editing it- something I wanted to avoid- although it did give me a chance to edit a whole piece in FCPX rather than just bits. Jury’s still out on whether I like the new software or not.

One of the pluses to the gig was I got to meet scriptwriter Ellie Ball– a talented Scottish writer with a sharp wit- and in May/June I asked her to write some viral comedy scripts for me for Enborne River. I decided to make Enborne River specialise in drama, since that was where my track record was, but realised that selling virals was hard when you didn’t have one yourself! She wrote a series of short scripts for me… and I’ve yet to film them due to location issues, so that really needs to be pushed through this year!

Robin March and Sally Rowe, "Jason's Persona"

Robin March and Sally Rowe, “Jason’s Persona”

I was asked to do a second story for Persona and after a series of increasingly contradictory criteria from the production team, writer Keith Storrier and I created Jason’s Persona– a story about a frustrated office worker who finds a new lease of life as a stand up comedian. I was inspired by the story of real-life comic John Bishop, who kept his new career a secret from his mid-divorce wife but reconciled with her when she unexpectedly saw him perform on stage and fell in love with him all over again. For me, that reconciliation and re-falling in love were the real hooks of the story and while we had practical limitations on the shoot getting that scene to work, audience feedback has been very good regarding that payoff.

The Jason’s Persona shoot also almost cost me my day job- that necessary evil that keeps my bank placated- and while I didn’t get fired it did change my attitude to it. I realised that the job was taking up too much of my energy, time and mental real estate. I didn’t have any downtime because I was trying to live two lives (9-to-5-er and director) and cram both (and sleep) into the 168 hours a week allows. I’ve realised this was untenable and have some tricky decisions to make in the coming months regarding the day job. Do I stay, do I go or do I cut down my hours? It might be the most important career decision I ever make…

Mid-summer, I started working with Phill Barron– the lead writer/ script editor on Persona- on a low budget feature. We wanted something time-travelly and over the next few months thrashed out a few treatments, only to put the idea on hold when the plots were getting away from themselves. This too, needs to be resurrected in 2013.

"Bitter Parents" Robin March and Jo Hughes

“Bitter Parents” Robin March and Jo Hughes

I got offered a gig directing a comedy sketch for the Cold Cuts comedy group called “Bitter Parents.” It was pretty much a one-extended-joke scene but it was going to add a bit of comedy to my otherwise drama and scifi-heavy showreel. Due to the difficulties in securing the location, extras and the child performer, the scene didn’t get lensed til November and over the course of two sunday mornings- meaning actors weren’t all in the same place at the same time. Miraculously, it seems to have come out okay though.

In an effort to get a new short film off the ground (and then get some festival exposure) I started looking at all the old scripts I have floating about. A couple of old The Collector’s Room scripts looked like they could work with a bit of a rewrite. I asked TCR’s co-creator and writer, Luke, if he’d do a rewrite on them, but it seems he’s given up screenwriting because I’ve heard nothing more from him. Collaboration is always a problem in this industry which is why it’s worth having some degree of skill in all areas- if necessary, you could do the job yourself! Sadly, I’m not the greatest writer and my rewrite is still at treatment stage. I need to find a local collaborator to write with or else so many projects will go unmade.

Another script that is undergoing the rewrite treatment is a noir-esque action movie. The idea had been in script limbo on my old mac for years, but it was a renewed interest in action movies that prompted me to dig it out, dust it off and start reworking it. If all goes well, I should be shooting my own John Woo-esque gunplay action short in the first half of 2013. Hollywood will beckon!

October was a bit of a bump in the road in my personal life- my Dad passed away at the early age of 60. Quick and painless for him, complete surprise for us. It made me think about what I was doing with my life, how short time can be and rather than make me lower my expectations, instead it’s made me determined to get my career going. Just a belief in yourself isn’t enough- you have to strive for it and take risks if necessary. I’ve started to realise that and have some brave choices to make in 2013 if I want this to happen.

MiMedia

At the tail end of the year my illustrator friend, Mark Stroud and I got involved with fledgling media design group Mi-Media, headed by local entrepreneur Tony Charles. It sounds like a project that’s got legs and a good chance for giving me future work and so far, things have been going well. Hopefully in the next few weeks, the company will go live and we should start seeing the work roll in.

So that wraps up the mixed bag o’ shite that was 2012. Seems more happened than I thought since this post is anything but “short!” Some things got off to a fine start, but many crashed and burned before they got very far.

I think a concerted effort is needed if I’m to make 2013 the year 2012 was supposed to be.

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Small Screen Drama on an Even Smaller Screen

February 25, 2012

I’ve mentioned Persona a few times recently, but haven’t really explained what the hell I’m on about.

Persona is a soap opera you view on smartphones. Essentially, every monthly season has four storylines filmed by four different directors. These storylines are cut into 1-2 minute chunks and interweaved so that every daily 3 minute episode (or “appisode” to use the encouraged portmanteu) contains the latest installments from two of the stories. The stories involve a variety of characters and their dramas and in due course will cross over into other storylines. Once you’ve downloaded the app (for free), each new installment is available daily, monday to friday. So it’s… like a soap opera you can view on a smartphone.

As you might guess, I’m directing one of the storylines- an arc from season 4 (due to be broadcast end of April). I’m not going to spoil the plot, but the writer, Martyn Deakin, and I have cooked up something weighty, topical and… well… dramatic! I’m looking forward to it.

Actually constructing the story though was a lot trickier than you’d think. I have to take my hat off to lead writer Phillip Barron for guiding Martyn and myself through the minefield that is the story and writing process. Essentially each story amounts to a 15-17 min short film cut into chunks. You’d think that’s quite simple- after all, it’s a 15 min short film and most filmmakers have had a crack at something like that- but you’d be wrong. You see, each chunk has no immediate continuity with the ones before and after it- it’s surrounded by the chunks of different storylines. So each scene is isolated and has to be somewhat self-contained, yet feel continuous in the grand scheme of things. This means you can’t do any scenes that follow on immediately because you don’t have any direct continuity and you can’t use any flashbacks because they’d be isolated and have no context. You also have to make sure that each scene is effectively a cliffhanger so people tune in again for the next installment. So it’s actually really tricky to write!

But now the writing process is over and we’re into pre-production- shot-listing, storyboarding (as mentioned in a previous post), location finding, casting, crewing and frantic panicking! I’ve now got to hope that we did our work properly in the script and story structure phase, because I’m now going to have to spend most of my focus on directing the minutiae- the performances, the shots, the design, the details, looks and edit points- and keep the bigger picture of how the story will be intercut and delivered at the very back of my mind.

And while I’m shooting mine, the third season will be available to download, just as season 2 is now. By the time you’re watching the story Martyn and I have created, some other writer and some other director will be bugging poor old Phill about structure and cliffhangers! So go on, join the bandwagon and download the free Persona app (for Android devices and Apple iPhones and iPads) and tell all your friends! And do it before the end of April or you’ll miss out on our fine work!