Day 4: Roadmap into the industry

I miss my friend, Part II

That semester in Irvin Kershner's class I began to learn about the artistry of filmmaking as we studied classic, foreign films and wrote papers about them.

Kersh asked us to began developing ideas for projects, and after his approval we would then develop them into short stories. For the final, we would turn in the first 25 pages of a screenplay. There was room for fewer than 20 people in the class and several people dropped the class because they wanted to turn in screenplay pages they'd written every week.

I'd written one screenplay before, with much enthusiasm and little skill, and I knew how grueling it was to produce 25 new pages in one week while working full-time; and if any part of the storyline needed to be changed it meant hours spent reworking each scene that followed.

Kersh told us that if a fully developed short story were completed and polished, it should then take two weeks to write the screenplay. And at the end of his class I tried it--I took a two-week vacation from work and completed the screenplay. I submitted it the next day into a film fest and it was one of 10 finalists. I then called the competition contact number and asked, "Did you have only 10 entries?" The person who answered the phone laughed. "You should see our offices," she said. "They're filled with boxes and boxes, hundreds of entries."

So on Day 4, Roadmap into the industry, I am remembering the words of advice Kersh said dozens of times to his students, "It's all about the story."

Day 3: Roadmap into the industry

I miss my friend

I miss my friend, Irvin Kershner. I remember the first time we met--it was 5:50 p.m. on a Wednesday night and the class he was teaching started at 6. At USC, classrooms often remained empty until the small hand on the clock reached 12; no one was early. So that night I was alone with the famous director. I was reading as many screenplays as I could, trying to unravel the structure and learn the artistry of screenwriting. I was holding a copy of Chocolat, and he noticed. "That's a good story," he said. "A good screenplay to study."

I had recently been accepted into the writing program, and didn't have a clue how the system worked. Students who would've won any reality show were assured a place in the most popular courses, and competition was intense. Shortly after I entered the program it was redesigned to have more structure, and as rumors of changes surfaced, a faculty member in the School of Cinematic Arts wondered why changes were needed. "That's what it's like in the industry," she said. "Take the hardest course first and succeed. Scramble! Learn, get in there and go for it!"

That semester, every screenwriting courses had been filled and there were waiting lists, and so Kersh had agreed to teach a new course. Students in the program shared information on an informal "rate your professor" system, but there was no information on how Irvin Kershner would be as a professor, or how hard the class would be. So that first semester he taught, competition to get into classes was elsewhere. The old system was working in my favor.

...to be continued...

Day 2: Roadmap into the industry

Wow…

A just did a quick google search for the name "Wuliger" and the word "screenwriting" since I’d mentioned him in my blog yesterday, and I wondered if people who read the blog could find out who he is since I hadn’t listed his first name.

A link to a website for Alexandra Sokoloff, who has written works of fiction, plays, and screenplays and is one of Frank Wuliger's clients, appeared in the search with the words: “My agent, Frank Wuliger, has been kind enough to let me audit his class at USC.”

The wow is because I'd taken the USC class the first time Professor Wuliger taught it. I sent emails to him during the semester with random thoughts and ideas.

He lectured about the realities of the business--that if his clients don't produce marketable work he works with them for two or more years and then he has no choice but to fire them. He hates doing this yet it's nothing personal, it's the business.

During his class and in a meeting I had at Paradigm we were told, "It's not going to be like this when you have an agent—they will not be able to spend hours talking with you."

What a semester that was! Our class had many more hours learning from a partner in an agency about the differences between agencies, how to work with agents and managers, how to succeed and how to continue to succeed as screenwriters than his clients—what incredible access we had, three hours a week for maybe 14 weeks.

In one of my emails to Frank, I mentioned that he was giving us guidance taken from his years of experience about what to do and not to do on every level, from writing to pitching in meetings to how to talk to agents and managers and more—and because agents don't have time to spend hours with each client giving them this information, it might change his clients’ careers and their lives if they were able to take his course.

So once again, Wow. He told our class several times that he wasn't sure if he wanted to teach the course again (it is a huge commitment) but he did, and I learned yesterday that he invited at least one of his clients to take his class (she is successful and has written about the class and how much she has benefited from additional insight into the business of screenwriting).

Here's her web page--she also has helpful info for screenwriters: http://bit.ly/kcXMHR

Sooo cool!

Day 1: Roadmap into the industry

Screenwriting students at USC are required to take a course, "The business of writing for film and television," and I'd received special permission from the School of Cinematic Arts' writing division to take the class.

The teacher, Professor Wuliger, spoke to us from his heart--he was amazingly open and throughout the course, he told us that he listens to his emotions, and that he relies on them to help guide his life. He looked over our classroom, filled with screenwriting students who would graduate in a few months, and told us the reality was that maybe seven of the people in the class would make screenwriting or television writing their profession.

He said that he had worked with and had known talented writers who finished school and then life and making a living took so much of their time and energy that they never pursued their dreams. He asked us each to create a five-year roadmap into the industry for our final test. He wrote "Well thought through," on my final, and the grade A+ with a bold circle around it; time has passed since I finished the course and I need to find that 7-page document!

I've learned that when I take writing classes I work on new projects. I'm inspired by classmates and by the professor. I'm productive and write outside of work. But when I'm not in class with writing assignments due, it just hasn't happened.

But my desire to live my dream--writing screenplays and seeing them produced--is more powerful than the time that's passing.

I've also wanted to share insights from some incredible mentors. I've tried to do that in this blog. The real magic, however, happened for me when a mentor would see me struggling, or would be convinced I could do better even when I didn't know it myself, and would reach into their own life experience to help. This was done quietly sometimes, and sometimes with passionate anger.

Those moments changed my writing, and my life, forever.

Writing the screenplay may be the easiest part; how do screenwriters come up with story ideas?

One semester, Marc Norman came to talk to USC students in the Master of Professional Writing program. He told a charming story about how his children, when they were little, sensed that their daddy's job as a screenwriter wasn't stable or continuous. He said they were convinced that when one writing job ended, there might not be another for awhile.

So over the diner table they would try to help him, coming up with wild ideas for stories--"Daddy, write about a monster that attacks the city..."

And then Marc's son grew up and called him from college, excited. "Dad, why not write about the young Shakespeare." He did, and when Shakespeare in Love won the Academy Award, Marc presented his son with a handsome thank-you check.

Marc told our class of screenwriting students, playwrights, and novelists that it was so challenging for him to think up story ideas, that he had worked for someone else for most of his screenwriting career.

Nia Vardalos also spoke to our Master of Professional Writing class. Petite and charming, she graciously answered every question. She told us that when she crossed the border and entered California, that she would be given her own sitcom; a year or so later, her agent fired her. Because no one would hire her as an actress, she wrote a play that she would star in about what she knew best--her extended family. She said the lines in the film that people remember best were taken from conversations she'd had with family members. I'll write more about this later, but she and her husband scraped together the funds, rented a hall, staged the play, and overextended themselves financially spending retirement savings as I remember, buying an ad in the LA TIMES. Rita Wilson eventually saw the play, her husband, Tom, became involved...well there's much more to the story, enough for another post.

So how do you come up with a compelling idea for a story? Last semester in The Industry class we learned that Disney will not consider making a movie unless it can be made into a theme park ride. Mark Ross from Paradigm advised our small group that visited with him to do what he does--watch every movie that is released, see how they do in the trades (one week out; two weeks...what are audiences interested in); he told us that if we want to be artists, that to survive we should always be working on two projects, one for ourselves and one for the market.

The playwright Martin McDonagh wrote the story for In Bruges, which we studied in class this week, after he vacationed in Bruges, Belgium. He was enchanted by the town--for a few hours. And then he became bored. He thought it would be interesting to separate those feelings into two characters who are forced to stay in the town for two weeks. He had a fun challenge--why would they be stuck there? And he began to weave the story with the inciting incident, theme, tension, humor, and imagery.

Yes, this will be a life changing semester. I can hardly wait.

1st class: Adv Motion Picture Script Analysis (Donald Bohlinger), USC SCA

Movie: In Bruges, written and directed by Martin McDonagh

Terms:

• Element of the Future or "Advertising." When Ray meets Chloe; after small talk he promises to tell her what he is over dinner; she walks away and then drops her card with her phone number. The audience anticipates their next meeting, with tension/romantic interaction.
• Defining scene: Reveals the main problem.
• Cinematic moment: Reveals who the character is, creates empathy for the character, and bonds us to them.
• Planting: a character, location, prop, an image that appears in the story; it can be subtle. It will be given meaning--become important--later in the story, or "paid off." In Bruges has many planted items (the person selling tickets to the tower won't take Ken's change as he is a few cents short and then the coins are later dropped from the tower, alerting Ray that there is danger, in the final act; also, the camera focuses at the top of the highest tower in the town, then drops quickly--moving too fast to let the audience see details of the tower, stopping on Ken and Ray at the bottom of the tower; they're sightseeing. The camera's movement is the same speed as a body falling from the tower, which happens in the final act. There are many items "planted" in the film "In Bruges."
• Dramatic Irony: The audience knows something the characters don't. Examples: After Harry calls Ken, the audience knows that he has been ordered to kill Ray. When Ray returns, he doesn't know this at first; the dramatic irony increases the tension. Another example: Ray and Chloe are kissing as Ken and Harry walk past. The audience knows that Harry has come to town to kill Ray; and that Ken is not cooperating. Will Ken be able to save himself and Ray?
• Complication: A problem for the main character. Example: at Chloe's place, an old boyfriend shows up, becomes jealous and aims a gun at Ray.
• Discrepancy: A technique often used to create humor. When Ken tells Harry that an American chain pizza place in the U.K. is also in Bruges and says, "That's globalization." "Comedy loves discrepancy."
• Scene of preparation: Ray getting ready for his date, looking in the mirror while Ken watches (a father figure); later Ken dresses in a suit and tie while looking in the same mirror, carefully preparing for his death.
• Each character has a POV/point of view: Their greatest need/desire, what is it and why?

Hints and additional information:

• To make the experience enjoyable for the audience, provide exposition a little at a time, with a dropper (not with a bucket). From the book, "Tools of Screenwriting"
• Martin McDonagh is a playwright; his dialogue is playful, with repetitive phrases.
• Location and props reveal inner thoughts of the character.
• A painting by Bosch, The Last Judgement," reveals the movie's theme, guilt. As the characters visit the art museum the theme of art, death, and guilt are revealed.
• Thought ad care are put into each character. Ray's suicidal thoughts are hinted at, which set up a character arc.
• Preparation: Scorsese studies every western film before directing a western. What works? What makes it work?
• Finding something visual that tells the audience about the character: "That's what we do." When the magic happens, the writer can take the rest of the day off!
• Editors are writers

Movies consist of eight chapters (originates from the old-time reels); also known as sequences.

Each sequence should tell the audience something about the character, advance the plot.

Terms to be discussed in the next class session: Recapitulation, first culmination, point of highest tension, new tension.

Submitting the screenplay

I used to live in a Victorian house in a town called Redlands. A couple lived next door; his family owned a clothing company where he'd worked for many years even though he wasn't happy. One day he was on his way to work when he decided he'd had enough and kept driving, never to return to the family business. The years passed and he and his (wife? girlfriend?) enjoyed living a nontraditional life in our small town. They always dressed casually and displayed a flag on the 4th of July and planted corn and vegetables in their front yard.

They kept to themselves but my roommate worked nights; she sometimes talked to the him in he afternoons as he did yard work. Then on the hottest day of the summer with their corn still unharvested, a moving truck pulled up; they were moving. My roomie asked why and he told her a story.

His girlfriend had been a physician and from what I remember, she'd been involved with an assisted suicide--a terminally ill child. And she had lost her medical license as a result. She was in therapy and one day she happened to mention that she often thought about becoming a medical researcher. Her therapist responded, "The time is now. Next year will be too late. Go and follow your dream." And she did.

It's scary, following your dreams. I think I could study screenwriting in the safe cocoon that's school, forever. In fact this week I started paperwork to register for another course in the writing division at USC. But the reason I think I remembered the story about our old neighbors is that two semesters ago a screenwriting teacher said: "The time is now. Don't get stuck in academia. You're ready. Go for it!" But I didn't feel ready.

The last night of The Industry class before summer vacation our amazing teacher, Frank Wuliger, asked what we had liked about the class and what we thought should be changed. We stayed late into the evening talking and when it was my turn I said, "I've completed a screenwriting program and I still keep searching for classes to take. Everything you've done this semester, every decision you've made, every guest you've invited was to help keep us safe. Safe with our first impressions at production companies and with producers and directors, safe during meetings, safe after we accept projects and safe as we work on them. So I really don't feel the need to keep looking for more classes."

During The Industry class, our major assignment was to create a roadmap into the industry. We turned in a draft for the midterm and then refined it and turned it in again for the final. One student had created a notebook filled with hundreds of pages while my midterm and final were only six pages. And Frank returned them to me with the words, "Well thought through; good plan; A+." I still may frame those assignments.

One thing Frank emphasized several times during the course is that he's seen many writers finish school, accept a demanding job and then get sidetracked. They give everything to the job and never become screenwriters.

During school it was easy for me to make homework a priority, but when class was over I didn't even open the file for the screenplay I'd written, even through I'd sent a query to Gersh Agency and had gotten a "yes, send it in."

This week I remembered my untraditional neighbors' story and the simple but powerful words spoken by her therapist, echoed by USC screenwriting professor Ron Friedman last year, and wrote to my contact at Gersh.

* * *

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Dear --

Good afternoon. Wow, time is flying! I hope you're having a great pre-holiday week.

After class ended last semester I became immersed in work projects. And I have the mid-term and final papers I turned in to Frank Wuliger, assignments for The Industry course he taught at USC last semester, on the corner of my desk at work. The challenge is not to let them get buried beneath paperwork and projects! His encouraging comments have helped keep me from forgetting about my goal: screenwriting.

Frank told our class that he has seen many people give up their dream of screenwriting because they accept a demanding job...I can't let this happen. I've studied screenwriting for too long, and so many amazing mentors have patiently helped me. I can't let them down.

So I've decided to make the first small goal as much of a priority as I gave to the assignments Frank gave us last semester. I've been waking up at 4:30 a.m. and if I write the entire long 4th of July weekend, I will have the screenplay ready for you to see on Tuesday of next week. I'm determined to submit it before Frank begins teaching his second class at USC!

What is the best way for me to submit it? Hard copy (how shall I address the envelope)? Or an emailed .pdf file? I hope that you enjoy reading the story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

You've been very kind, thank you for your willingness to review my work.

Best,

Nancy Yuen

* * *

I was afraid it was too late. But last night, at about 5:30 p.m., I received the go-ahead to submit the screenplay. So though I've been invited to a party in the mountains on the 4th: dancing in the streets and getting soaked with a fire hose, plenty of great food and fun, I'll be polishing the story inspired by my dad's childhood. And I have a rain check on the party for 2011.