The List Seduction

Despite what many of you may assume from reading my blog, I actually like working in Hollywood. In fact, I love Hollywood. I love its spectacularly dysfunctional obsession with its own hype; I love its idiosyncratic language and customs and I love its inability to get out of its own way and do what would ultimately be best for it before it careens wildly out of control. It's like being married to America.

(**Meta-blog note: I tried a lot of punchlines for that joke. Some were funnier--"France" and "Europe" for example, "Paris Hilton" was an obvious one, "my dog" almost won, as did "Gary Busey." Unfortunately "America" seemed the most appropriate.)

So it's Hollywood, love it or leave it, and like Chuck Heston they're gonna have to pry my key to the Infinite Monkey's Washroom from my cold dead intelligently designed opposable thumb.

(Meta-blog note 2: Twenty minutes elapse as Josh considers the various connections between right wing politics, Charlton Heston, the NRA, Darwin, the Infinite Monkey, the Crimson Simien and The Planet of the Apes...)

But enough about the Apocalypse. That'll come soon enough. And not, you know, in a good way.

So it's Hollywood, love it or leave it, and I hate to pack. I've been doing this for twelve years not including the thirty months I did at the SuperMax facility located at USC Film School before I bribed a guard with a carton of Winstons and went over the wall carrying nothing but two screenplays and a shank made from 1/2" brads. But that's a story for another day.

Now understand that despite my cynicism and occasional tales of inequity, I start from the premise that Hollywood is a meritocracy. Not for everyone, not all the time, and never for me, but more than most places. I've always believed that if you've written a feature screenplay and it's a money-making idea with money-making execution...eventually that script will find itself to the right place. If you live in Los Angeles. If you get out of your house once in a while. If you're not a complete and staggering asshole. (You can always become an asshole later. But if you want someone to take the time to read your script, play nice.)

Now what a money-making idea or script is...well unfortunately you'll never know while you're writing. That's up to the folks with the money. You can try to anticipate them or write for a targeted trend or whatever, but frankly I think that's hopeless. Write the script that's in you and the one you can write well. Because while a lot of shit movies get made from a lot of shit scripts, most of those shit scripts are from working writers like me. So remember--it's your job to write well and get your script sold. It's my job to turn it into shit.

This only applies to features, of course. If you want to write a spec script for television...don't.

But my point here is this: if you don't know anyone, don't worry about it. Just write. Don't read the trades, don't read the magazines, don't read this fucking blog. Write and write and write. If you have a script worth having, it'll be had. Your script is your face and your name. No one gives a crap about you. And why should they? You're not what they buy. Not yet.

Now once you're working...well, the whole thing just flips tail over teakettle.

Now you're on THE LIST.

Everyone knows about THE LIST. In case you don't...THE LIST is a roster of screenwriters put together by an executive when they're trying to fill a particular writing assignment. There are actor LISTS and director LISTS, too. But I don't care about those people. Those aren't the LISTS the studio executive casually covers up with a script every time I walk into a room for a meeting.

Don't think we don't see you do that.

I never understand why that was, exactly. The hiding. If we're on THE LIST, cool. If we're not, well, maybe the project's not right for us. After all, we're having the meeting. I have to assume you like me. So what's the big deal? Show me the stupid list.

So it wasn't until recently that I finally understood why that was a bad idea...

I was at a meeting the other day with a producer who wanted me to adapt a book for him. The book isn't owned by a studio and is extremely difficult to adapt--two big negatives for yours truly. On the other hand, I like the producer, I like the book, and he was buying me lunch. But he knows it's a toughie to get me to sign on and so he half-kiddingly says to me: "Okay, if you're not gonna do it, who should we get to do it?"

I say: "Show me THE LIST and I'll tell you." Not believing he actually has THE LIST on him. Who brings THE LIST to lunch with a writer?

So he shows me THE LIST.

And holy shit is it a list.

There's forty names on it, and I've heard of thirty-five of them. (And I apologize to the other five because I'm sure if I were cooler I'd know who they were, too.) And the list isn't even a kitchen sink list, it's a very specific and distinct list of writers who would all be good to adapt this SPECIFIC BOOK. It must have taken some time to put together this list. And despite the fact that they always tell you how much they hate the lists, and how much of a necessary evil they are...there's a lot of freaking lists. Lists for every project in town... And if each list is as thorough and as targeted as this list seems to be...Well, let's just say someone out there works for a living.

With the insight and wit I'm known for I say:

ME: Pretty great list.
PRODUCER: I hate them. They're a necessary evil...You know how it goes.
ME: Of course. I make lists at home.
PRODUCER: Seriously. Who would you choose?
ME: Seriously?
PRODUCER: Serious as your impending heart attack.

And he gives me a pen. Big mistake, giving a writer a pen. Because now suddenly I've got...whattya call 'em...opinions.

ME: Well, if I had to pick...I guess that guy there's not bad...And that one there, I kinda liked his last movie...But that one there...a little soft for my taste...and that one...maybe a little action-y...

In about five minutes I'd had forty down to twelve and if he'd put a gun to my head I coulda got it down to three. I discuss the names with the producer and even add a name or two just to "think outside the box."

It was easy. Too easy, actually. Almost...mindless. And suddenly I see how easy it happens and how WHAT YOU WRITE can quickly evolve into WHAT KIND OF WRITER YOU ARE...

(Meta-blog note 3: And when I use the word "evolve" here I do so while acknowledging that the gradual transition from WHAT YOU WRITE to WHAT KIND OF WRITER YOU ARE can easily be explained through other theories.)

(Meta-blog note 4: And when I use the word "theory" here I do so while acknowledging that I am not using any true definition of the word "theory" but instead am substituting in a meaning more accurately described as "baseless superstition.")

So I am unnerved by my ten minutes drunk-driving the List Bus because WHAT YOU WRITE and WHAT KIND OF WRITER YOU ARE are NOT the same thing. The first one is always accurate and up-to-date while the other is dangerously simplistic and may in NO WAY reflect what you actually WRITE. The first one is the only option available to the new writer and the second can easily become the only option available to the working writer.

It's terrifying, actually. Because in Hollywood changing a perception is much harder than changing a reality. Just contemplating the arbritrary ways one can be either circled or crossed off sends me running blindly through a Dungeon of my own Mastering without good graph paper.

BECAUSE HERE'S WHAT A WRITER REALLY THINKS WHEN HE SEES THE LIST:

"Jesus Christ would you look at all these guys. Well, I'd certainly hire THAT GUY instead of me. And I'd also hire HER, and God, HIM, I love HIM! How could they not want HIM? I mean, seriously, THAT GUY there rocks! And how could it be me instead of HER? Surely SHE'D know how to fix that one part in the middle of the book...God my penis feels small today...I was feeling pretty good about my penis this morning but now it definitely feels small...Why is that woman standing near me? She's definitely laughing at me. Is that free bread?"

But that might just be me.