Tuesday, January 1, 2008

CREATIVE BUSINESS PARTNERS – OR HOLLYWOOD OXY-MORONS?

It is now January 1, 2008, and as I see it, one of the biggest, problematic roadblocks to the current negotiations, or lack thereof, between the WGA and the AMPTP, over this whole writing/business thing, is that writing really has nothing to do with business. As a writer, I write because that’s what I love to do. A painter paints, a dancer dances, a sculptor sculpts, a singer sings and a writer writes. We don’t need some business to tell us what to write or how, when or why to do it. That’s not to say that most of us wouldn’t welcome monetary rewards for what we naturally feel compelled to do in the first place. As for me, I’m currently not making any money on my craft, because I am not in the Writer’s Guild . Not yet. I make my living (my business) as a Hollywood Teamster, Local 399. And I am very proud of my Local’s response through all of this. But I am still a writer. I write all the time. And like a writer I sit a lot – until recently. I’m just not yet paid for my writing work.

“Work”, though, is really an injustice to a writer’s endeavors. One of the reasons I love being a writer is because I generally don’t consider it work. Unless it’s possible to love what you do and have it still seem like work. Yet, what we do is work, if what is meant is, a laboriously, intensive process. Don’t get me wrong, I imagine there are many writers who enjoy every minute of placing pen to page or fingers to keyboards. I am not one of them. I do, however, love many facets of writing. It’s a highly creative process and I love those moments when creativity strikes. I love when I type “THE END”. I love rewriting because it’s a chance for me to one-up myself. And I love when I read something I’ve written and still love it. It’s the actual process of putting words to paper that is usually such a dreaded chore and quite akin to mental torture. The physical act of writing sometimes hinders the natural flow of the initial idea. It takes time to write a thought, whereas its inception is generally instantaneous. But still, none of this creativity involves a business.

It’s the total satisfaction of writing that often necessitates, “business”. Because it seems, for a writer to be wholly fulfilled, a writer’s work, needs to be received. It needs to be read. And in the case of a screenwriter, it generally needs to be seen as a finished movie (NOTE: I say movie but am referring to television, commercials and anything that eventually ends up being watched on some form of screen). Here’s where all that business stuff gets involved. And here too is where so much non-creativity surfaces. I happen to feel that there is creativity in all facets of human expression. There is beauty in the tiling of a new floor, as well as the cleaning of that floor, and the design of the shoes that walk upon it that carry the bodies and minds of those who conduct the business of making a movie. Producers (for lack of a better word) therefor are capable of much creativity. But it’s when creativity is deluded by business that things get so muddled, hence the seeming dichotomy – creativity and business. But those two words don’t need to be quite so mutually exclusive. I guess that’s one of the major problems with being strictly a writer or strictly a business person. Strictly anything leaves no room for compromise. And even that doesn’t have to be a problem. It’s when someone’s strictly-adhered-to-beliefs are forced upon another’s strictly-adhered-to-beliefs that the whole system gets mucked up.

I generally don’t want to be involved in the business of selling my writing, unless that particular business is involved in trying to alter my original creativity. I am perfectly content with letting a Producer conduct their business – whatever that is – without inflicting my creative beliefs on them. After all, they have their own work to do. They don’t need to be re-creating the work a writer has already painstakingly put to paper. Painters don’t suffer such invasive business practices; what they paint is their work and it remains for all to perceive just as the painter envisioned. The public can interpret the finished painting whatever way they choose. Now as a screenwriter, we have similar opportunities but on a much more limited scale. Our scripts can be judged as a finished product just as they are. Because the reality is, they are a finished product without any tampering from any Producer or Executive or Agent or Director or Actor or other writer or even the writer of the original work. When writers write a script, that script is finished at the moment that the writer says it is finished. And like any work of art, if it is popular or at least sought after, it increases with value over time. People pay for the privilege of experiencing it. It may be crap (which I’ve written much of myself) but the point is, it’s the crap that the writer intended it to be. And if we say it’s finished, then it’s finished. But the reality is, we would really prefer our finished scripts be further developed into movies. This is where Producers can come in handy. This too, is where business often clouds the issue.

Producers want to make movies and the screenwriter wants their screenplays to become movies. You would think with such a common goal that the end result would be satisfying to all concerned. But the reason it’s often not, isn’t because the Producers are bad people or because they don’t give a damn about screenwriters (which is not to say that this isn’t the case either), its because, strictly speaking, strict creativity and strict business don’t mix. The business mind desires to succeed and if it is a Corporate business mind it is beholden to it’s shareholders. Either way, it simply wants to make money. The creative mind desires to be creative and by so doing, share its creativity in the best possible format for the widest possible audience. The creative mind simply wants to be expressed. The creative mind is beholden only to itself. It needs only to satisfy its own imagination. Appreciation for its very being is an added bonus. When I write anything, I share it when I think it’s good enough to share. And my intent is always to share. If someone enjoys it, that’s wonderful. Some of us like the tears, some the laughs and others the fear or excitement that our words create. But in reality they aren’t even our words. I can’t take credit for the words. All I did was arrange them in a particular order that was pleasing to me. Though, I’m not so sure I can really even take credit for that, because where and how our minds receive those impulses and insights of creativity, is a matter of personal introspection, and I won’t force my beliefs on anyone. I might however, make some of the characters in my scripts do so. Because that’s their business.

Now, here’s the potential problem. If screenwriters want to earn a living by having their words transformed into a movie then someone has to do it. Making movies is indeed a money-making business. But let’s not forget what prompted that business – the written word. And let’s also not forget that hundreds of people may end up putting their stamp on it; their personal stamp. Until finally, hopefully, that script becomes a movie that is shown in theaters to appreciative audiences. In essence it is a film by the masses involved. (Claiming a “film by” credit is a whole other issue, that I won’t go into here, except to say that unless one person is the only person behind every phase of the movie, it simply isn’t a true credit. And to say it is denigrates the multitude of contributions from every so-called below-the-line and above-the-line person involved.) What I do is write. What we collectively do is make movies. We do that together. And in order to do so in a constructive manner, we must work together, without nullifying each others’ contributions. But whether it’s projected in a theater, broadcast on television, downloaded over the Internet, podcast into an Ipod, or beamed onto the contact lense auditoriums of the future, the produced result is still the product of a writer’s original script and needs to be so acknowledged and so compensated. Is a residual to a Producer any more important than a residual to the writer(s), who made the Producer one wit important in the first place? I don’t think so. It’s hard to put a price on creativity. How many pennies is too much?

There are those who would say that without Producers, writers would be nothing. Yes, without Producers we writers may not be produced, but we would always be writers. Our work always speaks for itself, regardless of how few or how many choose to listen. And I think I can say, we don’t write solely for the money. If money was the most important factor then we’d all be Producers, which may very well be the next step and a necessary one at that. But a laborer is worthy of their hire. As I said, everyone is creative in some way or another, so for that matter, I figure most people are underpaid. So please consider this: if a Producer would be nothing without a script that must first be written – and it is a screenwriter who provides those scripts – shouldn’t the screenwriter be compensated fairly for the foundation of words, upon which those same Producers are building their whole empires? I begrudge no one from earning their fair share. I only ask that the powers-that-be act equitably when it comes to sharing that fair share. And that’s what the business of movie making should entail -- for those who love making movies, anyway. And if you don’t love it, then, “Go away”. Scripts are Writers’ babies. We can’t be expected to turn them over to someone with any less passion for their well being, than we have. Taking a script and turning that script into the best movie it can possibly be should be something you love to do. And in the process, appropriately compensating the very people who gave birth to the idea and all those Hollywood midwives along the way who added their own creative input, would seem like a natural gift of gratitude. That includes everyone, from Security to the Stars to the PA’s to the Producers to the Directors and on and on to even the Writers, and oh yes, the Accountants. Because if anyone knows creativity, it’s the Writers and the Accountants. (I’ve had my own bouts with numbers and although they don’t lie as well as words, a few cents can sure be dressed up to look like something they’re not.)

So what all this means is that I think we have to acknowledge something here that both sides can strictly agree on, and that is, for the purposes of making a movie, we are all strictly movie makers; sharing many of the same goals and the same concerns. Therefor, like it or not, we are all in the creative movie business together. Let’s not destroy each other in the process. Because in the long run, it doesn’t really matter which side can hold out the longest (or that I might lose the condominium I just bought before the strike) if the industry is critically damaged in the process. Let’s not be stupid about this. What matters is that writers write, Producers produce and somewhere in the middle – along with so many other people (including Directors and Actors) – we make movies. That’s our business. So, let’s all be creative about it and get this strike done. Then I can go back to being a Set Dressing driver, proud to be a Teamster, who dreams of one day soon, also belonging to the WGA. And maybe someday, even the AMPTP. But no matter what happens, there is one thing I will always be – something that no one can take away – I am a writer. And what I write or how I write isn’t anybody’s business but my own. However, I wouldn’t mind if I could just get someone with the right power to read my scripts and we could be... you know, something like... creative business partners. And I think that’s where Producers come in. So come on in. I think I can safely speak for most screenwriters when I say, “We’re waiting for you.”


(A Writer and Teamster – united by the seat of my pants)