Light & Shade's got an update on all the new courses and opportunities available at the moment, one of them being Jurgen Wolff's Right-Brain Scriptwriting Course, which is taking place on Sunday, April 22, Ealing Studios, London. (For more information or to book, contact: mail@livingspirit.com)
I attended one of Jurgen's courses a few years ago. A friend had a ticket but couldn't go, so graciously offloaded it to me, in exchange that I would type up notes on what I learned. Here are the best bits:-
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It was an interesting day. It was very hot and humid outside but thankfully RADA’s student rehearsal rooms were generously air conditioned so that it was cool and comfortable. The chairs were a bit small though, and there wasn’t a lot of space between each person, making it a bit cramped.
Anyway, Jurgen Wolff eased in to his performance and seemed like a very nice and wise man. He’s about six foot four, lean and thin. A crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows. Eggshell chinos. Despite his European roots, an American accent prevailed.
Jurgen did three ‘self hypnosis’ sessions where we would all try to relax and get into a meditative state to consider something about our characters or story or whatever. This is an interesting technique but I’m not sure how practical it is in your workplace. Obviously, you’ve got the private space to try to get into this relaxed position but I think you need to be of a certain personality or be open to what it represents in order to fully get the most out of the exercise.
One of the more useful excercise in the notes was the ‘Word Juxtaposition’ page. This is where you brainstorm how your characters might react or what your characters might do if faced in a certain situation like ‘Hospital’ or an item like ‘Hamburger’. The picture page is pretty much the same deal but treated in a visual fashion, naturally.
Jurgen also presented another useful ‘grid’ exercise, where you list your main characters and then in the grid, you list the scenes of your screenplay and mark out which characters appear in which one. If one character is ‘missing’ from a number of scenes but then gets his moment, the previous blank spaces should help you try to consider what he’s been doing all this time so that you have the right frame of mind for his character come his introduction or portrayal.
Generally, Jurgen was all about brainstorming and creative ways to stimulate your brain so that you don’t fall foul of writer’s block etc. There were a lot of useful tips and advice, but I wouldn’t like to do a whole weekend of his workshop (which he occasionally does).
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Kamis, 29 Maret 2007
Rabu, 28 Maret 2007
Ashes to Ashes

As the second series of Life on Mars approaches the end, check out the Q&As with the esteemed writers/creators Matthew Graham, Ashley Pharoah and Tony Jordan.
Also, Philip Glenister (who plays Gene Hunt) has been having a pop at TV, in particular soaps. He makes a few interesting and amusing jibes but it's somewhat ironic given that Tony and Ashley have a big soap background.
Minggu, 25 Maret 2007
Story Vault: Ten Year Plan
A post from this time last year, about what it takes to get a career off the ground, and why it can take so long...
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Of course, no-one likes their work being rejected. Once a script hits fade out, the hope and expectation is always that someone, somewhere will recognise the obvious talent behind the words. In this case, a good script can do one of three things: act as a reliable writing sample; create the opportunity of an option/development fee, or at the very least grant a meeting with the suitably impressed producer/script editor/tea boy.
However, while this ideal sounds fairly basic and straightforward, it takes time and momentum to get to the stage where your work can be favourably received and considered. In theory, anyone from a child to an old age pensioner can write a script over the weekend and get their career off the ground but in reality, it takes a lot more toil and energy to write something that will be remotely of interest to a tired and cynical script reader.
MA courses in screenwriting are all the rage now and for the most part, they offer great value and experience in producing a variety of work and in studying the craft of screenwriting. However, in my experience with the MA course in Leeds Metropolitan University, many of the students assumed automatic success or a jump start to their careers once they graduated.
Every time this assumption raised its misguided head, I tried to lay down the practicalities and realities involved in getting a writing career off the ground but you could see them dismissing the thought in their eyes as if it didn’t apply to them. One student said: “This course is so hard. We have all these projects to write. Six, seven on the go. It won’t be like this in the real world; I’ll be working on one project at a time and building my career”. I tried to tell him that the reality is you’ll be desperate to have six, seven projects on the go, and would be living on tenterhooks if you only had one project to rely on (unless it’s a guaranteed amount of eps on a soap or a handsome development fee).
The commonly referenced amount of time to ‘make it’ as a screenwriter is that it’ll take ten years to get your career up and running. Ten years seems like an awfully long time for little or no return on a screenwriting vision. But after six years of living the dream, I can understand and relate to the ten-year plan with a more experienced and appreciative eye.
For the first four years, I spent a lot of time focusing on study: reading thousands of scripts, devouring everything in my screenwriting path, immersing myself in screenplay culture. This study was combined with the hard graft of getting scripts written and forging relevant contacts to advance my career. I managed to option a couple of my scripts and this felt good but hardly reassuring for my bank balance. My break came when I was accepted on to Doctors (two years ago) and then later that year, I won the BBC Tony Doyle award.
Even with this limited success, it feels like that the experience thus far has been my apprenticeship and only now does my career start in earnest. Basically, the work and development I’m busy with now is what I wanted/expected to be doing five/six years ago.
Choosing a screenwriting career is not an easy life. Overnight success takes years to accumulate. Rejection awaits your work on every submission. Confidence takes a regular battering. An energetic social life, and the income to support it, quickly goes out the window. An interest in writing becomes an obsession, and that obsession will hopefully guide you to the successful career. Or at least, that’s the plan…
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---
Of course, no-one likes their work being rejected. Once a script hits fade out, the hope and expectation is always that someone, somewhere will recognise the obvious talent behind the words. In this case, a good script can do one of three things: act as a reliable writing sample; create the opportunity of an option/development fee, or at the very least grant a meeting with the suitably impressed producer/script editor/tea boy.
However, while this ideal sounds fairly basic and straightforward, it takes time and momentum to get to the stage where your work can be favourably received and considered. In theory, anyone from a child to an old age pensioner can write a script over the weekend and get their career off the ground but in reality, it takes a lot more toil and energy to write something that will be remotely of interest to a tired and cynical script reader.
MA courses in screenwriting are all the rage now and for the most part, they offer great value and experience in producing a variety of work and in studying the craft of screenwriting. However, in my experience with the MA course in Leeds Metropolitan University, many of the students assumed automatic success or a jump start to their careers once they graduated.
Every time this assumption raised its misguided head, I tried to lay down the practicalities and realities involved in getting a writing career off the ground but you could see them dismissing the thought in their eyes as if it didn’t apply to them. One student said: “This course is so hard. We have all these projects to write. Six, seven on the go. It won’t be like this in the real world; I’ll be working on one project at a time and building my career”. I tried to tell him that the reality is you’ll be desperate to have six, seven projects on the go, and would be living on tenterhooks if you only had one project to rely on (unless it’s a guaranteed amount of eps on a soap or a handsome development fee).
The commonly referenced amount of time to ‘make it’ as a screenwriter is that it’ll take ten years to get your career up and running. Ten years seems like an awfully long time for little or no return on a screenwriting vision. But after six years of living the dream, I can understand and relate to the ten-year plan with a more experienced and appreciative eye.
For the first four years, I spent a lot of time focusing on study: reading thousands of scripts, devouring everything in my screenwriting path, immersing myself in screenplay culture. This study was combined with the hard graft of getting scripts written and forging relevant contacts to advance my career. I managed to option a couple of my scripts and this felt good but hardly reassuring for my bank balance. My break came when I was accepted on to Doctors (two years ago) and then later that year, I won the BBC Tony Doyle award.
Even with this limited success, it feels like that the experience thus far has been my apprenticeship and only now does my career start in earnest. Basically, the work and development I’m busy with now is what I wanted/expected to be doing five/six years ago.
Choosing a screenwriting career is not an easy life. Overnight success takes years to accumulate. Rejection awaits your work on every submission. Confidence takes a regular battering. An energetic social life, and the income to support it, quickly goes out the window. An interest in writing becomes an obsession, and that obsession will hopefully guide you to the successful career. Or at least, that’s the plan…
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Sabtu, 24 Maret 2007
More Blogs
There are a few new bloggers to welcome to the (aagh, I'm going to say it) scribosphere. The BBC writersroom (why one word? is it to minimise the misuse of a possessive apostrophe?) has joined in the fun with their new blog, here.
Elsewhere, Dan Fitch is a self proclaimed Comedic Whore, while Jason Arnopp is a successful celebrity journo and author who's following his dreams of becoming a screenwriter.
Most of you will have found these great new blogs already but for those who haven't, do check them out or say 'hello'.
Elsewhere, Dan Fitch is a self proclaimed Comedic Whore, while Jason Arnopp is a successful celebrity journo and author who's following his dreams of becoming a screenwriter.
Most of you will have found these great new blogs already but for those who haven't, do check them out or say 'hello'.
Kamis, 22 Maret 2007
Fund Your Feature, part 3
The final instalment of Sam's notes from the South West Screen seminar last week. Thanks again, Sam, great report.
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After lunch there was a talk on the importance of pre-sales featuring Paul Brett, Graham Begg (Content International) and Will Machin (Carnaby International) where the terminology proved too alien to make my notes a great deal of use, but the key thing here was Sell It, Make It – note the order in which things need to happen with the creation of a film – selling first - unlike almost any other product, not the other way around.
The importance of sales agents was stressed here because they know the market, they know the people, and they have established contacts and friendships that just make them an irreplaceable weapon in your promotion armoury. However the level they were speaking at here were B-list names at least and the idea of a first-time director with an unknown cast, whilst not given short shrift, was not the primary focus of the talk.
*
Session six and my writing hand has cramp. However there is little notation as the speakers – Al Clark and Rachel Robey (producers, London to Brighton) and Ed Blum (director/producer, Scenes of a Sexual Nature) are relative new kids on the block and don’t necessarily have as many insights as the old hands. This was an entertaining talk of their experiences however, and clips from London to Brighton looked great. One key thing I scribbled down was that “Legal fees cost the same for a tiny film as they do for a big film”. Not one to strike you with horror but worth bearing in mind.
*
Session seven was with film lawyer Miles Ketley (Wiggin) and devoted to the legal pitfalls of film production. Miles had a tough slot because everyone was exhausted by now and/or looking forward to the final session with Julien Temple. I have to say I made few notes at this stage but Miles began interestingly by pointing out that studios see the producer as an entrepreneur – someone who takes the risks and gets a large slice of the financial reward as a result. Directors – and certainly not writers – are not seen this way. They don’t take the risks and don’t get paid on the film’s performance, but upfront with a flat fee. We might not appreciate that perspective when we get paid the same for a labour of love as we would for a stinking dud knocked up in a weekend, but it’s worthwhile noting the producer/studio take on a writer’s position and in financial terms their stance is understandable.
*
Finally Julien Temple came in as a more relaxed finish to the day and spoke about his work over the years with Joe Strummer and his recent documentary on Glastonbury. Not a lot of pointers from Julien but the ideal way to wind down from a fairly intensive crash-course in producing a film in the UK
Overall it was a great day to attend and swept any vestiges of naivety away from me as a writer to hear everything from a producer’s point of view. Though I wasn’t perhaps the ideal recipient it was an invaluable day. If you’re able to make it to a SWScreen event I’d recommend it based on this experience - £50 for the whole day including refreshments and lunch.
Finally - incidentally - I have to say the clips the producers showed (the excellent London to Brighton aside) did very little for me as a viewer and I wouldn’t seek them out as entertainment. But in fairness this only proves their ability in getting these films made and added to their credibility in my eyes.
---
After lunch there was a talk on the importance of pre-sales featuring Paul Brett, Graham Begg (Content International) and Will Machin (Carnaby International) where the terminology proved too alien to make my notes a great deal of use, but the key thing here was Sell It, Make It – note the order in which things need to happen with the creation of a film – selling first - unlike almost any other product, not the other way around.
The importance of sales agents was stressed here because they know the market, they know the people, and they have established contacts and friendships that just make them an irreplaceable weapon in your promotion armoury. However the level they were speaking at here were B-list names at least and the idea of a first-time director with an unknown cast, whilst not given short shrift, was not the primary focus of the talk.
*
Session six and my writing hand has cramp. However there is little notation as the speakers – Al Clark and Rachel Robey (producers, London to Brighton) and Ed Blum (director/producer, Scenes of a Sexual Nature) are relative new kids on the block and don’t necessarily have as many insights as the old hands. This was an entertaining talk of their experiences however, and clips from London to Brighton looked great. One key thing I scribbled down was that “Legal fees cost the same for a tiny film as they do for a big film”. Not one to strike you with horror but worth bearing in mind.
*
Session seven was with film lawyer Miles Ketley (Wiggin) and devoted to the legal pitfalls of film production. Miles had a tough slot because everyone was exhausted by now and/or looking forward to the final session with Julien Temple. I have to say I made few notes at this stage but Miles began interestingly by pointing out that studios see the producer as an entrepreneur – someone who takes the risks and gets a large slice of the financial reward as a result. Directors – and certainly not writers – are not seen this way. They don’t take the risks and don’t get paid on the film’s performance, but upfront with a flat fee. We might not appreciate that perspective when we get paid the same for a labour of love as we would for a stinking dud knocked up in a weekend, but it’s worthwhile noting the producer/studio take on a writer’s position and in financial terms their stance is understandable.
*
Finally Julien Temple came in as a more relaxed finish to the day and spoke about his work over the years with Joe Strummer and his recent documentary on Glastonbury. Not a lot of pointers from Julien but the ideal way to wind down from a fairly intensive crash-course in producing a film in the UK
Overall it was a great day to attend and swept any vestiges of naivety away from me as a writer to hear everything from a producer’s point of view. Though I wasn’t perhaps the ideal recipient it was an invaluable day. If you’re able to make it to a SWScreen event I’d recommend it based on this experience - £50 for the whole day including refreshments and lunch.
Finally - incidentally - I have to say the clips the producers showed (the excellent London to Brighton aside) did very little for me as a viewer and I wouldn’t seek them out as entertainment. But in fairness this only proves their ability in getting these films made and added to their credibility in my eyes.
Rabu, 21 Maret 2007
Fund a Feature, part 2
More from Sam's notes on the Fund Your Feature seminar held in Bristol last week, this instalment focusing on the tax credit system and co-productions with foreign companies...
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The third session was by Nigel Burke from the Tenon group about the new tax credit system that came into legislation only a week or so ago in the UK. I won’t try and cover it all here except to say that, despite the bad-mouthing of the system by a later speaker (possibly because he knew all the wheezes the old one was susceptible to) it looked remarkably straightforward.
The basics of it are that you have to pass a ‘cultural’ test to secure tax credits, assuming you are producing through a company/entity that pays UK tax in the first place and at least 25% of the film must be produced in the UK, though how you achieve that 25% is a movable feast.
You need to score at least 16 out of 31 on the test, and the more of the film that is made in the UK the better your chances of doing this. If the film is set in the UK, even better. There is a sliding scale for some questions, including the one about whether the film represents British culture or not.
In an age where what it means to be British is a debatable thing the recommendations of ‘castles’ and ‘the royal family’ got an ironic laugh from the audience. Another quirk of this cultural test is that you qualify as representing British culture if you set the film in any part of the British Empire at a time when Britain was the occupying force. This seems slightly backward looking to me, but there you go.
Airfares can qualify if they are flying in to the UK, but not out. British characters score more points than British actors – John Malkovich playing a Brummie carpet fitter scores you more points than Martin Freeman as a Hollywood pool cleaner for instance. And characters need to be British whilst actors score you points if they are from anywhere in the EEA (European Economic Area)
An important distinction made in the session was that the credits are based on ‘consumption’ rather than ‘origin’ – so a set built in Britain wouldn’t qualify if it were shipped to France for shooting. Conversely if a soundtrack is composed in France but recorded in the UK, it would qualify for tax credits.
Tax credits can go as high as 25% for small films (under £20m) and 20% for above. When you apply you’ll need the DEMS certificate that proves it’s a ‘UK” film, your accounts, and the tax return.
*
Fourth session: Co-production with foreign companies. Mike Downey, Film and Music Entertainment; Marit van den Elshout, Cinemart Co-Production Market; Steve Walsh, East West Films. All the above were experts in sourcing production overseas.
This talk was generally more anecdotal, in fairness to the panel that was because a lot of them had not found out the minutiae of the new legislation yet and tended to have stories about the old system. I have less notes for the rest of the day starting here as there was an increasing amount of repetition, but there was some interesting points from this panel. The key thing with foreign investors is that before you look abroad you need to make sure you have a ‘cornerstone’ of UK investment.
Mike Downey was adamant that if you were struggling for investors you should never cut your budget as it means your film will suffer. Personally I wasn’t sure if everyone had that leeway but it was an interesting point.
The panel said there were a series of festivals that were must-go-to and Cinemart was one of them. They said, unsurprisingly, that a lot of deals get done in the downtime and that’s when it’s best to approach financiers. Cinemart was a good one to go to particularly because people are actively looking for projects, unlike Cannes, where everyone is selling.
---
Tomorrow, the importance of pre-sales/sales agents, the legal pitfalls of production, and more...
---
The third session was by Nigel Burke from the Tenon group about the new tax credit system that came into legislation only a week or so ago in the UK. I won’t try and cover it all here except to say that, despite the bad-mouthing of the system by a later speaker (possibly because he knew all the wheezes the old one was susceptible to) it looked remarkably straightforward.
The basics of it are that you have to pass a ‘cultural’ test to secure tax credits, assuming you are producing through a company/entity that pays UK tax in the first place and at least 25% of the film must be produced in the UK, though how you achieve that 25% is a movable feast.
You need to score at least 16 out of 31 on the test, and the more of the film that is made in the UK the better your chances of doing this. If the film is set in the UK, even better. There is a sliding scale for some questions, including the one about whether the film represents British culture or not.
In an age where what it means to be British is a debatable thing the recommendations of ‘castles’ and ‘the royal family’ got an ironic laugh from the audience. Another quirk of this cultural test is that you qualify as representing British culture if you set the film in any part of the British Empire at a time when Britain was the occupying force. This seems slightly backward looking to me, but there you go.
Airfares can qualify if they are flying in to the UK, but not out. British characters score more points than British actors – John Malkovich playing a Brummie carpet fitter scores you more points than Martin Freeman as a Hollywood pool cleaner for instance. And characters need to be British whilst actors score you points if they are from anywhere in the EEA (European Economic Area)
An important distinction made in the session was that the credits are based on ‘consumption’ rather than ‘origin’ – so a set built in Britain wouldn’t qualify if it were shipped to France for shooting. Conversely if a soundtrack is composed in France but recorded in the UK, it would qualify for tax credits.
Tax credits can go as high as 25% for small films (under £20m) and 20% for above. When you apply you’ll need the DEMS certificate that proves it’s a ‘UK” film, your accounts, and the tax return.
*
Fourth session: Co-production with foreign companies. Mike Downey, Film and Music Entertainment; Marit van den Elshout, Cinemart Co-Production Market; Steve Walsh, East West Films. All the above were experts in sourcing production overseas.
This talk was generally more anecdotal, in fairness to the panel that was because a lot of them had not found out the minutiae of the new legislation yet and tended to have stories about the old system. I have less notes for the rest of the day starting here as there was an increasing amount of repetition, but there was some interesting points from this panel. The key thing with foreign investors is that before you look abroad you need to make sure you have a ‘cornerstone’ of UK investment.
Mike Downey was adamant that if you were struggling for investors you should never cut your budget as it means your film will suffer. Personally I wasn’t sure if everyone had that leeway but it was an interesting point.
The panel said there were a series of festivals that were must-go-to and Cinemart was one of them. They said, unsurprisingly, that a lot of deals get done in the downtime and that’s when it’s best to approach financiers. Cinemart was a good one to go to particularly because people are actively looking for projects, unlike Cannes, where everyone is selling.
---
Tomorrow, the importance of pre-sales/sales agents, the legal pitfalls of production, and more...
Senin, 19 Maret 2007
Fund Your Feature, Part 1
Spring is in the air, and a lot of renewed energy and focus seems to have emerged from the winter doldrums, thanks mainly to some inspiring and informative courses that people have been attending. Potdoll recently shared her notes on Thrillers, while seemingly half of the entire UK scribosphere were at Adrian Mead’s Insider Guide to Writing TV (say hello to Lucy, Good Dog, Dom, Lianne et al).
In a similar fashion, Sam Morrison, animator extraordinaire and my occasional co-writer, went along to the ‘Fund Your Feature’ event at the Watershed in Bristol. He had a good day getting insider tips and advice on how to get your first feature off the ground. He crammed his notebook with lots of useful info so this is only part one of a trilogy of Sam’s findings. Thanks, Sam!
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I attended a ‘Fund Your Feature’ day in Bristol on Friday, organised by South West Screen, and thought it might interest some writers to hear what the speakers had to say about getting your feature from page to screen.
What was interesting to me was that the day, and the speakers, were mostly geared towards producers and therefore it was interesting to hear writers and directors referred to as potential obstacles as well as creative colleagues! I guess a good producer has to be pretty hard-nosed…
This is assembled from hastily scribbled notes so apologies for the slight staccato nature:
The day started with one of the best sessions, a talk from Alan Harris, a producer with Atlantic Film Group. He spoke at length about the avenues of pursuit for funding – funding from banks, private investors, and government.
Banks sometimes put up funds but they are aggressive investors and expect large returns.
Private investors are usually better to deal with but are hard to find and some will behave like a bank as well. Sometimes you will get ‘dinner party’ investors who are less aggressive about returns (often because they have invested a small amount)
Funding bodies like the Film Council also provide investment that doesn’t have the strings-attached approach of the banks but competition is obviously fierce.
Post facilities will sometimes offer to work ‘for free’ in return for a slice of the back end.
In each case the filmmaker needs to approach the potential investor with their motivations in mind rather than simply stating the excellence of the script/director/talent et cetera. Sounds obvious but apparently it’s amazing how many producers try and sell the project from the wrong angle – investors are ultimately investing for returns, not to make art.
Another topic covered was pre-sales: sales agents can give you a sales estimate of how the film will perform in different regions based on similar films’ previous box office performances and if relevant, the popularity of the cast. Though these figures are essentially ‘made up’ the importance of sales agents was covered later in the day. Feature finance was described as a lot more elusive than TV finance, where deadlines are met and agreed sums adhered to.
There was also the problem of the ‘table analogy’ – if you’re given money to build a table, and the table you build is crap, then it can at least be broken down and the respective parts used again. With film there’s no such ‘out’ and therefore it’s harder to get someone to invest in the first place precisely because of that risk.
As an opening session it was a good dose of realism for the rest of the day. Alan finished by saying one thing he hated and had a good sense for was bullshit, and it was much better to play a straight bat and be completely honest about your knowledge. He also said he didn’t welcome unsolicited scripts, especially this morning!
*
The second session included Alan as well as Paul Brett of Prescience Film, Sally Caplan of the Film Council, producer Gavrik Losey (son of Joseph, film buffs) and host Nick Roddick. Paul reiterated a lot of Alan’s points and said your main point of focus, immediately, must be “who is the film for?” He also recommended producers produce for television too otherwise they will ‘die early’ from the stress. After a question from the audience he said never label your film ‘arthouse’ as that will put investors off.
Sally Caplan is leader of a five-person team at the Film Council who decide what gets funding after reading submissions (though she stressed everything they consider gets shown to ‘outside readers’ as well – not sure exactly what she meant by that but was too busy writing to ask). This team have to convince the council’s funding committee that whatever they choose will make money so they’re in the same boat as the rest of us… she spoke at length about the funding the film council supplies which is loosely broken down like this:
£4m per year for the Development Fund, £2.5m of which is allocated to slate deals. To qualify for this you need a producer, sales agent and UK distributor.
£5m per year for the New Cinema Fund. This is still a development fund but in the sense that it helps develop talent – and in doing so funds films. Cinema Extreme comes from this funding and it recently contributed to the feature Red Road.
£8m per year for the Premier Fund. Less nurturing here, more like standard business practice.
Sally finished by saying that the council stay involved in productions they fund to different levels, depending on what the director wants, but they will be involved to some degree and can “step in” in exceptional circumstances.
Gavrik Losey spoke too but his points were similar to to Alan and Paul’s comments so I won’t retread them here.
---
Coming soon: part two of Sam’s notes…
In a similar fashion, Sam Morrison, animator extraordinaire and my occasional co-writer, went along to the ‘Fund Your Feature’ event at the Watershed in Bristol. He had a good day getting insider tips and advice on how to get your first feature off the ground. He crammed his notebook with lots of useful info so this is only part one of a trilogy of Sam’s findings. Thanks, Sam!
---
I attended a ‘Fund Your Feature’ day in Bristol on Friday, organised by South West Screen, and thought it might interest some writers to hear what the speakers had to say about getting your feature from page to screen.
What was interesting to me was that the day, and the speakers, were mostly geared towards producers and therefore it was interesting to hear writers and directors referred to as potential obstacles as well as creative colleagues! I guess a good producer has to be pretty hard-nosed…
This is assembled from hastily scribbled notes so apologies for the slight staccato nature:
The day started with one of the best sessions, a talk from Alan Harris, a producer with Atlantic Film Group. He spoke at length about the avenues of pursuit for funding – funding from banks, private investors, and government.
Banks sometimes put up funds but they are aggressive investors and expect large returns.
Private investors are usually better to deal with but are hard to find and some will behave like a bank as well. Sometimes you will get ‘dinner party’ investors who are less aggressive about returns (often because they have invested a small amount)
Funding bodies like the Film Council also provide investment that doesn’t have the strings-attached approach of the banks but competition is obviously fierce.
Post facilities will sometimes offer to work ‘for free’ in return for a slice of the back end.
In each case the filmmaker needs to approach the potential investor with their motivations in mind rather than simply stating the excellence of the script/director/talent et cetera. Sounds obvious but apparently it’s amazing how many producers try and sell the project from the wrong angle – investors are ultimately investing for returns, not to make art.
Another topic covered was pre-sales: sales agents can give you a sales estimate of how the film will perform in different regions based on similar films’ previous box office performances and if relevant, the popularity of the cast. Though these figures are essentially ‘made up’ the importance of sales agents was covered later in the day. Feature finance was described as a lot more elusive than TV finance, where deadlines are met and agreed sums adhered to.
There was also the problem of the ‘table analogy’ – if you’re given money to build a table, and the table you build is crap, then it can at least be broken down and the respective parts used again. With film there’s no such ‘out’ and therefore it’s harder to get someone to invest in the first place precisely because of that risk.
As an opening session it was a good dose of realism for the rest of the day. Alan finished by saying one thing he hated and had a good sense for was bullshit, and it was much better to play a straight bat and be completely honest about your knowledge. He also said he didn’t welcome unsolicited scripts, especially this morning!
*
The second session included Alan as well as Paul Brett of Prescience Film, Sally Caplan of the Film Council, producer Gavrik Losey (son of Joseph, film buffs) and host Nick Roddick. Paul reiterated a lot of Alan’s points and said your main point of focus, immediately, must be “who is the film for?” He also recommended producers produce for television too otherwise they will ‘die early’ from the stress. After a question from the audience he said never label your film ‘arthouse’ as that will put investors off.
Sally Caplan is leader of a five-person team at the Film Council who decide what gets funding after reading submissions (though she stressed everything they consider gets shown to ‘outside readers’ as well – not sure exactly what she meant by that but was too busy writing to ask). This team have to convince the council’s funding committee that whatever they choose will make money so they’re in the same boat as the rest of us… she spoke at length about the funding the film council supplies which is loosely broken down like this:
£4m per year for the Development Fund, £2.5m of which is allocated to slate deals. To qualify for this you need a producer, sales agent and UK distributor.
£5m per year for the New Cinema Fund. This is still a development fund but in the sense that it helps develop talent – and in doing so funds films. Cinema Extreme comes from this funding and it recently contributed to the feature Red Road.
£8m per year for the Premier Fund. Less nurturing here, more like standard business practice.
Sally finished by saying that the council stay involved in productions they fund to different levels, depending on what the director wants, but they will be involved to some degree and can “step in” in exceptional circumstances.
Gavrik Losey spoke too but his points were similar to to Alan and Paul’s comments so I won’t retread them here.
---
Coming soon: part two of Sam’s notes…
Writers' Co-Op
Thanks to MovieQ for this link about an American Writers' Co-Op that's been organised by John Wells, Nicholas Kazan and Tom Schulman.
"Over the next four years, the Writers Co-Op will generate at least 18 scripts from writers who will risk their usually high upfront salaries for the reward of receiving first-dollar gross, the right to participate as producers and a guarantee they will not be rewritten without their consultation and approval. The scribes will also have a say in the decisionmaking process from development all the way to post-production."
Interesting stuff...
"Over the next four years, the Writers Co-Op will generate at least 18 scripts from writers who will risk their usually high upfront salaries for the reward of receiving first-dollar gross, the right to participate as producers and a guarantee they will not be rewritten without their consultation and approval. The scribes will also have a say in the decisionmaking process from development all the way to post-production."
Interesting stuff...
Sabtu, 17 Maret 2007
Come on the Irish!
Did you see the Irish cricket team win a draw against Zimbabwe in the Cricket World Cup? Probably not. But weren't they great? It was their debut on the world stage, and batsman Jeremy Bray scored 115 (not out), a terrific achievement, and the team notched up an overall run total of 221. The boys in green then went on to give Zimbabwe an almighty fright, and could have won the game, against all odds.

In the final ball of the game, Zimbabwe needed only one run to win it, but Ireland bowled them out, and the game was tied. I never thought a cricket game would make my heart race. At the ground, the Irish supporters danced a merry jig to celebrate the draw. It's taken me about ten years to understand and appreciate cricket, but now I'm completely sucked in.
Plenty of oxymorons and ironies in the above paragraph. 'Irish cricket' Eh? 'Win a draw?' 'Celebrating a draw?' Believe it. It was genuinely thrilling to see the Irish lads push the Zimbabwe team to the end, and the shared result was definitely the right one. There's been talk this week of scrapping 'draws' for football games but this is ludicrous, and possibly trying to pander to the American style of victory and excitement. Phill's got a few interesting things to say on that matter over on his blog.
Anyway, the Irish cricket boys are playing Pakistan today, who didn't get off to a good start against the West Indies, so who knows, there might be a serious upset on the cards. A bit closer to home, the Irish rugby team are playing Italy in the final day of the Six Nations. Ireland could win the championship (although they threw away the chance of a Grand Slam, shame). So, come on boys. You messed up against the French but did brilliantly against the English (what an emotional game that was!) so you can put the championship to rest today.

Whatever the outcome in sport, and whatever you're doing today, remember, it's a good day to be Irish. In fact, everybody is Irish on St Patrick's Day. If we win in the cricket AND the rugby, prepare to raise a glass or two and drown the shamrock in style.


In the final ball of the game, Zimbabwe needed only one run to win it, but Ireland bowled them out, and the game was tied. I never thought a cricket game would make my heart race. At the ground, the Irish supporters danced a merry jig to celebrate the draw. It's taken me about ten years to understand and appreciate cricket, but now I'm completely sucked in.
Plenty of oxymorons and ironies in the above paragraph. 'Irish cricket' Eh? 'Win a draw?' 'Celebrating a draw?' Believe it. It was genuinely thrilling to see the Irish lads push the Zimbabwe team to the end, and the shared result was definitely the right one. There's been talk this week of scrapping 'draws' for football games but this is ludicrous, and possibly trying to pander to the American style of victory and excitement. Phill's got a few interesting things to say on that matter over on his blog.
Anyway, the Irish cricket boys are playing Pakistan today, who didn't get off to a good start against the West Indies, so who knows, there might be a serious upset on the cards. A bit closer to home, the Irish rugby team are playing Italy in the final day of the Six Nations. Ireland could win the championship (although they threw away the chance of a Grand Slam, shame). So, come on boys. You messed up against the French but did brilliantly against the English (what an emotional game that was!) so you can put the championship to rest today.

Whatever the outcome in sport, and whatever you're doing today, remember, it's a good day to be Irish. In fact, everybody is Irish on St Patrick's Day. If we win in the cricket AND the rugby, prepare to raise a glass or two and drown the shamrock in style.

Selasa, 13 Maret 2007
Story Vault: Pace
This time last year, I wrote about 'pace' so I thought I'd re-post it, what the heck. I might not be able to blog over the next couple of weeks, so posts from the archives might be the regular fix until normal service is resumed...
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Sometimes, there is too much talk about structure. In open-discussions, private seminars and debates down the pub, it’s discussed like it holds the answers to struggling screenplays everywhere. There is no denying that structure is the essential concrete of a script’s story but there is another equally important consideration that is never given as much weight or consideration: Pace. Structure’s little sister.
While the demands and the deliverance of the three-act structure are difficult to apply without everyone jumping at your story with a meat-cleaver, the use of pace and momentum is often overlooked because a writer will invariably convince himself that “the structure’s there”, so everything else must be working. Yes, the structure may very well “be there” but that doesn’t mean anything is working at all.
As we’ve previously discussed, it’s easy to set up and build a story around the basic three-act template but it’s better to try to defy expectation and avoid predictability at every stage. A script written to the design of the template rather than the intentions of the writer, and the organic needs of the story, becomes a blueprint and that’s when criticisms and problems occur for writers everywhere.
Robert McKee has some insightful words on the “pace, rhythm and tempo” of a screenplay (pages 289-294 for those with the book at hand). He says: “Pace begins in the screenplay. Cliché or not, we must control rhythm and tempo. It needn’t be a symmetrical swelling of activity and shaving of scene lengths, but progressions must be shaped.” Pace, rhythm and tempo, the austere triumvirate of a script’s momentum.
The well-known advice for pacing is generally accepted as: “start your scenes as late as possible and end them as early as you can”. This is good advice but taken far too literally at times. What it means is that you don’t want to bore the reader/audience with any unnecessary moment of screen time. What it doesn’t mean is that you should make all of your scenes one or two pages long.
Who was it that said no scene in a script should be more than three pages? It really is maddening and misleading advice. Perhaps it’s applicable in the US spec market as you want your script to zip along with a breeze and energy that will gain you some favour but in terms of film and the cinematic experience, this actual pacing won’t last for a second in the editor’s cutting room.
Pacing is about variety, not speed and economy. Yes, action sequences and short transitional scenes are all very much needed but time spent with the characters and understanding their motives and behaviour is also a must. And sometimes, these scenes go on for more than three minutes - hell, they should go on for as long as they’re required.
Ultimately, it comes down to a writer’s choice about how effectively he thinks he’s telling his story (or she, a lot of he’s in there). Hopefully this will be the case rather than a writer thinking that she has followed the accepted rules and regulations of screenplay to the letter, and therefore convincing herself that she’s got a polished and presentable script.
While screenplay is so much about format and regulation, story is about emotion and gut reaction and it’s this above all that writers everywhere should focus on in gnashing over whether a story works or not. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big advocate of specific screenwriting technique. I love pace and structure, and like to think that it’s a particularly strong area for me, but I try to not let the accepted fundamentals get in the way of telling the emotion and heart of the story. Start late, finish early? Let it go man (but make it interesting and dramatic rather than dull and indulgent).
---
---
Sometimes, there is too much talk about structure. In open-discussions, private seminars and debates down the pub, it’s discussed like it holds the answers to struggling screenplays everywhere. There is no denying that structure is the essential concrete of a script’s story but there is another equally important consideration that is never given as much weight or consideration: Pace. Structure’s little sister.
While the demands and the deliverance of the three-act structure are difficult to apply without everyone jumping at your story with a meat-cleaver, the use of pace and momentum is often overlooked because a writer will invariably convince himself that “the structure’s there”, so everything else must be working. Yes, the structure may very well “be there” but that doesn’t mean anything is working at all.
As we’ve previously discussed, it’s easy to set up and build a story around the basic three-act template but it’s better to try to defy expectation and avoid predictability at every stage. A script written to the design of the template rather than the intentions of the writer, and the organic needs of the story, becomes a blueprint and that’s when criticisms and problems occur for writers everywhere.
Robert McKee has some insightful words on the “pace, rhythm and tempo” of a screenplay (pages 289-294 for those with the book at hand). He says: “Pace begins in the screenplay. Cliché or not, we must control rhythm and tempo. It needn’t be a symmetrical swelling of activity and shaving of scene lengths, but progressions must be shaped.” Pace, rhythm and tempo, the austere triumvirate of a script’s momentum.
The well-known advice for pacing is generally accepted as: “start your scenes as late as possible and end them as early as you can”. This is good advice but taken far too literally at times. What it means is that you don’t want to bore the reader/audience with any unnecessary moment of screen time. What it doesn’t mean is that you should make all of your scenes one or two pages long.
Who was it that said no scene in a script should be more than three pages? It really is maddening and misleading advice. Perhaps it’s applicable in the US spec market as you want your script to zip along with a breeze and energy that will gain you some favour but in terms of film and the cinematic experience, this actual pacing won’t last for a second in the editor’s cutting room.
Pacing is about variety, not speed and economy. Yes, action sequences and short transitional scenes are all very much needed but time spent with the characters and understanding their motives and behaviour is also a must. And sometimes, these scenes go on for more than three minutes - hell, they should go on for as long as they’re required.
Ultimately, it comes down to a writer’s choice about how effectively he thinks he’s telling his story (or she, a lot of he’s in there). Hopefully this will be the case rather than a writer thinking that she has followed the accepted rules and regulations of screenplay to the letter, and therefore convincing herself that she’s got a polished and presentable script.
While screenplay is so much about format and regulation, story is about emotion and gut reaction and it’s this above all that writers everywhere should focus on in gnashing over whether a story works or not. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big advocate of specific screenwriting technique. I love pace and structure, and like to think that it’s a particularly strong area for me, but I try to not let the accepted fundamentals get in the way of telling the emotion and heart of the story. Start late, finish early? Let it go man (but make it interesting and dramatic rather than dull and indulgent).
---
Jumat, 09 Maret 2007
Pro Bono
Much as it angers and frustrates writers, agents and the Writers’ Guild, there simply is no getting around the fact that, at some stage, you’re going to have to work for free. This especially applies if you’re starting out as a screenwriter but even if you’re a seasoned scribe, sometimes you just have to pucker up and do some pro bono work to help get a project off the ground.
It’s not ideal, it’s not fair, it’s not perfect…but it’s a fact. It’s the reality of the business. And you know what, sometimes it’s okay. Sometimes it’s just simply necessary. Even in television, you’ll be asked to do a free outline before they agree to commission your ass. This is usually two/three pages, but sometimes it’s a treatment between 6-10 pages. A treatment is a lot of work, especially for free, but if you want the commissioned gig, you’re not going to walk away, right?
I can hear the indignant howls of writers and agents echo throughout the land as I type but most agents know that this is the norm, and sometimes projects get off the ground on the accepted notion of ‘good faith’ between the writer and producer. This post is not for one second endorsing the idea that an eager writers agrees to a wily producer’s demands to write for free but there is a way to agreeing to do this unpaid work without feeling manipulated, used or taken for granted.
First ask yourself: do I like this project? This is the most important. Forget money. Forget fame. Forget your Oscar speech. Do I dig the story? Does it grab my attention and get me excited? Or, perhaps, simply, can I make it work and enjoy myself in the process even though it’s not something that overtly thrills or moves me? If you like the story, if the subject matter can generate sufficient passion and interest, then it might be worthwhile taking on the work because it’s something you believe in, and something that you think could eventually pay off.
Next, do I like this producer? Can I work with this guy/gal? Do I know his/her credits? What’s her experience? If he’s new and ambitious, do I believe in his zeal and conviction? Does the game plan for funding and development sound reasonable and promising? Agreeing to do unpaid work for a producer is enticing when you’re an unknown screenwriter (hey, gotta get the CV going, right?) but if you’re just doing it for the sake of it, then it’s probably not going to work out.
Now, what’s the deal? I’m doing this work for free now, so what do I get later when it gets funding? Can we agree a basic contract before I proceed because otherwise the producer gets what he wants, the writer works hard but if it falls through, the writer gets nothing at all. This is the tricky part. Producers won’t want to involve your agent or get into contract talks until they get funding in place. Until then, you’re acting on ‘good faith’ and a verbal agreement, which may or may not be binding, depending on who witnessed the conversation. Still, some producers will agree to a basic one-letter contract which can protects your and her rights, and keep everything kosher. This is peace of mind but can be difficult to obtain.
If you’re feeling uncertain, ask yourself: do I trust this person? If I don’t know her at all, and have no prior relationship with him, then do I believe all the puffed up talk about agreements once funding is in place? If you don’t feel right, then it’s best not to get involved in the project. When starting a new script, every producer, every producer, will tell you there’s no money; that they can’t pay you now but they’ll pay you later. Yet, if they are a reputable producer with some credit or clout, then they should be able to pay you something, even if it’s just a token few hundred. Don’t be afraid to ask.
It’s a tough situation. They need you, the writer, but if you don’t want to play ball, then they can easily find someone else to fill your shoes. They’re in the powerful position of negotiation, to bend you into doing some unpaid writing, but while it’s not the ideal situation for any writer, it is a common feature of every day business. Don’t say ‘yes’ because you're desperate for any kind of break or exposure. Say ‘yes’ when you feel happy that the project is interesting or could lead to something down the line or if the producer is genuine and professional, and it could be the start of a good relationship. Take it into consideration. Try to understand their situation. It’s tough for them, too. Then do the work, and polish that Oscar speech.
It’s not ideal, it’s not fair, it’s not perfect…but it’s a fact. It’s the reality of the business. And you know what, sometimes it’s okay. Sometimes it’s just simply necessary. Even in television, you’ll be asked to do a free outline before they agree to commission your ass. This is usually two/three pages, but sometimes it’s a treatment between 6-10 pages. A treatment is a lot of work, especially for free, but if you want the commissioned gig, you’re not going to walk away, right?
I can hear the indignant howls of writers and agents echo throughout the land as I type but most agents know that this is the norm, and sometimes projects get off the ground on the accepted notion of ‘good faith’ between the writer and producer. This post is not for one second endorsing the idea that an eager writers agrees to a wily producer’s demands to write for free but there is a way to agreeing to do this unpaid work without feeling manipulated, used or taken for granted.
First ask yourself: do I like this project? This is the most important. Forget money. Forget fame. Forget your Oscar speech. Do I dig the story? Does it grab my attention and get me excited? Or, perhaps, simply, can I make it work and enjoy myself in the process even though it’s not something that overtly thrills or moves me? If you like the story, if the subject matter can generate sufficient passion and interest, then it might be worthwhile taking on the work because it’s something you believe in, and something that you think could eventually pay off.
Next, do I like this producer? Can I work with this guy/gal? Do I know his/her credits? What’s her experience? If he’s new and ambitious, do I believe in his zeal and conviction? Does the game plan for funding and development sound reasonable and promising? Agreeing to do unpaid work for a producer is enticing when you’re an unknown screenwriter (hey, gotta get the CV going, right?) but if you’re just doing it for the sake of it, then it’s probably not going to work out.
Now, what’s the deal? I’m doing this work for free now, so what do I get later when it gets funding? Can we agree a basic contract before I proceed because otherwise the producer gets what he wants, the writer works hard but if it falls through, the writer gets nothing at all. This is the tricky part. Producers won’t want to involve your agent or get into contract talks until they get funding in place. Until then, you’re acting on ‘good faith’ and a verbal agreement, which may or may not be binding, depending on who witnessed the conversation. Still, some producers will agree to a basic one-letter contract which can protects your and her rights, and keep everything kosher. This is peace of mind but can be difficult to obtain.
If you’re feeling uncertain, ask yourself: do I trust this person? If I don’t know her at all, and have no prior relationship with him, then do I believe all the puffed up talk about agreements once funding is in place? If you don’t feel right, then it’s best not to get involved in the project. When starting a new script, every producer, every producer, will tell you there’s no money; that they can’t pay you now but they’ll pay you later. Yet, if they are a reputable producer with some credit or clout, then they should be able to pay you something, even if it’s just a token few hundred. Don’t be afraid to ask.
It’s a tough situation. They need you, the writer, but if you don’t want to play ball, then they can easily find someone else to fill your shoes. They’re in the powerful position of negotiation, to bend you into doing some unpaid writing, but while it’s not the ideal situation for any writer, it is a common feature of every day business. Don’t say ‘yes’ because you're desperate for any kind of break or exposure. Say ‘yes’ when you feel happy that the project is interesting or could lead to something down the line or if the producer is genuine and professional, and it could be the start of a good relationship. Take it into consideration. Try to understand their situation. It’s tough for them, too. Then do the work, and polish that Oscar speech.
Rabu, 07 Maret 2007
Anniversary
I’ve always tried to remain on topic with the blog but allow me to indulge in a little personal tale:
On March 8th, 1994, I arrived in London, seeking my fortune. Prior to leaving Ireland, I thought I would always live in my home country but that was the pride of my youth. I was officially a “man” now (whatever that is), ready for new adventures and experiences. I had tasted a few months in America, and that was great, but it didn’t overly appeal as a place of residency (part of me now thinks I should have gone direct to LA but I didn’t have the confidence; that would come later).
After my American spell, I was living in Dublin and things were going well. I had got some TV and film work but these opportunities were coming to an end, and there was nothing else on the career horizon, so I decided ‘sod it, let’s try London’.
In what can only be described as foolish optimism, I arrived in London with nowhere to go and nowhere to stay. When I landed in Heathrow, I got the tube directly to Piccadilly Circus as that was a landmark I knew as a child. So now what? Where should I stay? What should I do?
Luckily, someone I had worked with in Dublin gave me the telephone number of a friend of theirs who worked in a recruitment agency. I thought: “sort out work first, then worry about everything else”. So I phoned the recruitment girl, introduced myself, told her my wicki-wicki-wild typing speed and that I needed to temp as soon as possible in order to quickly settle into London life.
The girl - the magnificent Catherine O’Sullivan (Irish, natch) - told me to meet her in South Kensington, where she worked. We met for a coffee, and she seemed very nice, and told me that temping shouldn’t be a problem but where was I staying? Nowhere, I replied, probably a hostel or something, I wasn’t sure. Why don’t you stay in my house? she said. Eh? I said. Stay in my place. Just for a couple of nights, sort yourself out.
My initial reaction was to politely decline but an impulse flashed across my brain and I said: “okay, that would be great!” But get this: she gave me the keys to the house, told me where to find it, and encouraged me to treat it like home. She shared a house with four Australians but it was far from a bedsit house nightmare. It was a house full of energy and humour, and the people (complete strangers!) couldn’t have been more welcoming and understanding. Here was me, arriving out of the blue, and invading their space unannounced. An half an hour later, we’re eating dinner and drinking beer. I was impressed, and having fun.
A guy was moving out of the house at the end of the month, and although the rent was a bit pricey (it was West Kensington after all), I knew I had to stay and continue to live with my new best friends. So I moved in, full time. And we had a blast. Never have I come across such a bunch of unassuming and friendly people, who are still my good friends to this day.
I temped for six months, got myself accustomed to London life, and then I got a job at Channel 4, and my career started in earnest. It occurred to me that this kind of opportunity could not have happened while I was in Dublin. Times have changed and there may be more opportunities now, but I know I have two things to be grateful for: Catherine O’Sullivan for being so laid back and friendly, and London for giving me the chance to develop myself and my career into a viable and rewarding prospect.
Sometimes you just have to take a chance, I guess. I was only 22 at the time. The world revolves around you at that age, and I was just having fun, never once thinking about dreary realities. In retrospect, I doubt that I would be as spontaneous and carefree as I was then, but I still hold on to that foolish optimism. There’s a fine line between this optimism and delusion, especially as you try to develop your career as a screenwriter, but it’s served me well down the years, and I wouldn’t be anywhere without it.
On March 8th, 1994, I arrived in London, seeking my fortune. Prior to leaving Ireland, I thought I would always live in my home country but that was the pride of my youth. I was officially a “man” now (whatever that is), ready for new adventures and experiences. I had tasted a few months in America, and that was great, but it didn’t overly appeal as a place of residency (part of me now thinks I should have gone direct to LA but I didn’t have the confidence; that would come later).
After my American spell, I was living in Dublin and things were going well. I had got some TV and film work but these opportunities were coming to an end, and there was nothing else on the career horizon, so I decided ‘sod it, let’s try London’.
In what can only be described as foolish optimism, I arrived in London with nowhere to go and nowhere to stay. When I landed in Heathrow, I got the tube directly to Piccadilly Circus as that was a landmark I knew as a child. So now what? Where should I stay? What should I do?
Luckily, someone I had worked with in Dublin gave me the telephone number of a friend of theirs who worked in a recruitment agency. I thought: “sort out work first, then worry about everything else”. So I phoned the recruitment girl, introduced myself, told her my wicki-wicki-wild typing speed and that I needed to temp as soon as possible in order to quickly settle into London life.
The girl - the magnificent Catherine O’Sullivan (Irish, natch) - told me to meet her in South Kensington, where she worked. We met for a coffee, and she seemed very nice, and told me that temping shouldn’t be a problem but where was I staying? Nowhere, I replied, probably a hostel or something, I wasn’t sure. Why don’t you stay in my house? she said. Eh? I said. Stay in my place. Just for a couple of nights, sort yourself out.
My initial reaction was to politely decline but an impulse flashed across my brain and I said: “okay, that would be great!” But get this: she gave me the keys to the house, told me where to find it, and encouraged me to treat it like home. She shared a house with four Australians but it was far from a bedsit house nightmare. It was a house full of energy and humour, and the people (complete strangers!) couldn’t have been more welcoming and understanding. Here was me, arriving out of the blue, and invading their space unannounced. An half an hour later, we’re eating dinner and drinking beer. I was impressed, and having fun.
A guy was moving out of the house at the end of the month, and although the rent was a bit pricey (it was West Kensington after all), I knew I had to stay and continue to live with my new best friends. So I moved in, full time. And we had a blast. Never have I come across such a bunch of unassuming and friendly people, who are still my good friends to this day.
I temped for six months, got myself accustomed to London life, and then I got a job at Channel 4, and my career started in earnest. It occurred to me that this kind of opportunity could not have happened while I was in Dublin. Times have changed and there may be more opportunities now, but I know I have two things to be grateful for: Catherine O’Sullivan for being so laid back and friendly, and London for giving me the chance to develop myself and my career into a viable and rewarding prospect.
Sometimes you just have to take a chance, I guess. I was only 22 at the time. The world revolves around you at that age, and I was just having fun, never once thinking about dreary realities. In retrospect, I doubt that I would be as spontaneous and carefree as I was then, but I still hold on to that foolish optimism. There’s a fine line between this optimism and delusion, especially as you try to develop your career as a screenwriter, but it’s served me well down the years, and I wouldn’t be anywhere without it.
Selasa, 06 Maret 2007
New Head of Development at Film Council
From UK Film Council's website:
"Tanya Seghatchian, co-producer of the first two films in the Harry Potter franchise and the independent British film My Summer of Love has been appointed Head of the UK Film Council’s Development Fund from 1 April, it was announced today (2nd March).
Segatchian has been in the film industry for 10 years during which time she had shown extensive versatility. She worked with screenwriter Steve Kloves and producer David Heyman of Heyday Films to develop one of the biggest studio film franchises from JK Rowling’s Harry Potter books, and with filmmaker Pawel Pawlikowski she set up independent production company, Apocalypso Pictures.
As a development consultant to Heyday Films, Segatchian brought in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time which she is exec producing with Steven Kloves as writer/director for Warner Bros. Most recently, she has been exec producing French filmmaker Francois Ozon’s first English language film Angel which was shown In Competition as the closing night film at the Berlin Film Festival last month and is developing/co-producing Arnaud Desplechin’s adaptation of Philip Roth’s novella Deception. Before working in film, Segatchian worked as a script editor on BBC dramas and script-edited The Lakes for Jimmy McGovern.
Announcing Segatchian’s appointment, John Woodward, Chief Executive Officer of the UK Film Council says: “Tanya has an exceptional reputation for finding exciting film projects and for working with talent to develop scripts which win audiences and awards and make money.”
Segatchian replaces Jenny Borgars who has headed the £4 million Lottery-funded Development Fund since 2000 and steps down from the post at the end of this month. The Development Fund supports single project script development, six slate development companies and a number of script of initiatives."
"Tanya Seghatchian, co-producer of the first two films in the Harry Potter franchise and the independent British film My Summer of Love has been appointed Head of the UK Film Council’s Development Fund from 1 April, it was announced today (2nd March).
Segatchian has been in the film industry for 10 years during which time she had shown extensive versatility. She worked with screenwriter Steve Kloves and producer David Heyman of Heyday Films to develop one of the biggest studio film franchises from JK Rowling’s Harry Potter books, and with filmmaker Pawel Pawlikowski she set up independent production company, Apocalypso Pictures.
As a development consultant to Heyday Films, Segatchian brought in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time which she is exec producing with Steven Kloves as writer/director for Warner Bros. Most recently, she has been exec producing French filmmaker Francois Ozon’s first English language film Angel which was shown In Competition as the closing night film at the Berlin Film Festival last month and is developing/co-producing Arnaud Desplechin’s adaptation of Philip Roth’s novella Deception. Before working in film, Segatchian worked as a script editor on BBC dramas and script-edited The Lakes for Jimmy McGovern.
Announcing Segatchian’s appointment, John Woodward, Chief Executive Officer of the UK Film Council says: “Tanya has an exceptional reputation for finding exciting film projects and for working with talent to develop scripts which win audiences and awards and make money.”
Segatchian replaces Jenny Borgars who has headed the £4 million Lottery-funded Development Fund since 2000 and steps down from the post at the end of this month. The Development Fund supports single project script development, six slate development companies and a number of script of initiatives."
Senin, 05 Maret 2007
Timmay!
A couple of things that might be of interest, and I urge you to check out, courtesy of Tim Clague.
Tim's been working on the 'Scriptwriter's Life', a new idea for scriptwriters to help them develop themselves and their careers. In a neat and accessible diagram, he's listed all the necessary qualities and attitudes you need to keep you focused on your writing goals. You can download it, for free, and print it out, tell your friends, whatever. So far, over 2,000 people have accessed the diagram, so feel free to check it out.

And Tim is in pre-production with his first feature film, Circumference, a romantic "dramedy" about a sales guru and a musician who meet and fall in love. It's a film that gives the traditional romance a very modern twist. Tim is determined to distribute this as "the world's first free-to-view" film. All you have to do is register your email, and you can copy, share, download, blog, ipod, and watch the film 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, for free. Check out the website for full details, and register your email in the 'This Film is Free' section. He's made a trailer, too, so have a look of that in the 'Show Me' section.
I'm a big fan of Tim's energy and ideas, and I've been helping him out with the script, which is funny, charming and bittersweet. So, even if you don't want to watch the film at all, register your email anyway, just to support the project.
Tim's been working on the 'Scriptwriter's Life', a new idea for scriptwriters to help them develop themselves and their careers. In a neat and accessible diagram, he's listed all the necessary qualities and attitudes you need to keep you focused on your writing goals. You can download it, for free, and print it out, tell your friends, whatever. So far, over 2,000 people have accessed the diagram, so feel free to check it out.

And Tim is in pre-production with his first feature film, Circumference, a romantic "dramedy" about a sales guru and a musician who meet and fall in love. It's a film that gives the traditional romance a very modern twist. Tim is determined to distribute this as "the world's first free-to-view" film. All you have to do is register your email, and you can copy, share, download, blog, ipod, and watch the film 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, for free. Check out the website for full details, and register your email in the 'This Film is Free' section. He's made a trailer, too, so have a look of that in the 'Show Me' section.
I'm a big fan of Tim's energy and ideas, and I've been helping him out with the script, which is funny, charming and bittersweet. So, even if you don't want to watch the film at all, register your email anyway, just to support the project.
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