Tuesday, 3:00 A.M., the phone rings. Getting a phone call in the middle of the night is usually not a good thing --- in general, sleep is interrupted and, usually the call brings bad news. “I’m a producer in L.A., got your name from an online database, went to your website, was impressed and wanted to talk to you about a screenplay” said the voice on the other end of the line.
I am basically out of work, haven’t had a steady job since December, won’t have one until September and, while, sure, I am grateful for the handful of writing jobs and the brief return to acting that have paid some bills this year but I still need a job or, at least, a way to generate some income. In my most “awake” voice I said “I’m on the east coast, would it be possible to call you back later today?”
Twelve hours or so later, I call the New York area code of a guy in L.A., we do the producer-screenwriter version of dogs sniffing each other’s butts to check them out. Somehow, I usually manage to present well, sound like I know what I am talking about and, most important, appear to be enthusiastic about whatever story somebody wants me to write. I did what I could do. I might get the gig, I might not. The reality is that, under the surface, I was not that enthusiastic about the project.
I’m going on vacation this week: long walks on the beach, limited internet access, lots of reading, lots of chilling and, that’s right, lots of writing. Two years ago, on vacation in the same spot, I wrote two screenplays in four days --- of course I had spent months working on the treatments for both before I wrote the first FADE IN:
The was the same plan for this year. I am committed to three screenplays right now, have turned in first drafts of two of them and am ready to do re-writes. Yesterday, I got a message from another filmmaker I have worked with --- “Need an action screenplay, fast!” There were a few messages back and forth between us, I sent him a five year old treatment, he loved it and I told him that he could have a first draft in less than a week. I call myself a minimum-wage screenwriter and that’s not just a catchy phrase, it is really pretty accurate. Despite my continual promises to myself to never do it again, I agreed to write this screenplay on spec (“speculation”, not a firm deal), no guarantee of it being made or of me being paid anything for my efforts. I am going on faith here, I have been told that the project is for a well-known musical-figure-turned-actor and that the budget of the film will be $60,000,000. I am enthusiastic about the project.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
How Much Happy Is Too Much Happy?
I blog therefore, I am? That would seem to be the case for some people but, clearly, not for me.
I usually like to treat myself to movie in the theater when I complete and submit a screenplay, a way of closing the door on a particular phase of work. I finished a screenplay (another documentary) last week and I am going to finish one next week and I don’t anticipate going to a movie. Maybe there just isn’t anything out there that I really want to see or maybe it is something else...
Six years, countless different casts, several different crews, a Philly production company, an L.A. production company, the Philly production company once more and something like 15 drafts later, I have re-written “Aftermath” again.
As, I wrote in a previous entry, filmmaking is a team sport and the screenplay, while critically important to the success of the film, is only one element of the collaborative process. Unless I am producing and directing (and maybe even acting) in the film, it is not enough for me to be happy with the screenplay: everyone else involved with the film has to like it too.
So, this new draft is tighter, while longer, than the last draft, the six characters are a lot richer and, from the perspective of a one-time, former would be actor, each member of the cast now gets even more “spotlight” time.
Yet, throughout all of these drafts over the years, one thing has remained the same: the end. Just as I have never been completely happy with the name “Aftermath”, I have also been a little shaky about the end. The guy who wants to produce and direct it now has been on me for awhile to do something about the ending and I finally have done it, made a big, dramatic change that was, in many ways, really painful for me to write and will certainly be painful for the audience to see but, I have to say, as these things go, I think I am happy with it.
As mentioned before, it doesn’t matter how happy I am with the screenplays I write, I have to make the people who are actually shooting the film happy. If the producer-director likes the changes I made to “Aftermath”, the film is likely to be shot this summer. In that case, I would treat myself to a movie ...... “Super 8” looks good.
If that is not the case, if they don’t like it, then what? Do I continue to bend over backwards to make other people happy or do I take the whole thing back to the beginning, back to 2005, when there was an “I” in “team” and it was me and the only person I had to please was myself?
I usually like to treat myself to movie in the theater when I complete and submit a screenplay, a way of closing the door on a particular phase of work. I finished a screenplay (another documentary) last week and I am going to finish one next week and I don’t anticipate going to a movie. Maybe there just isn’t anything out there that I really want to see or maybe it is something else...
Six years, countless different casts, several different crews, a Philly production company, an L.A. production company, the Philly production company once more and something like 15 drafts later, I have re-written “Aftermath” again.
As, I wrote in a previous entry, filmmaking is a team sport and the screenplay, while critically important to the success of the film, is only one element of the collaborative process. Unless I am producing and directing (and maybe even acting) in the film, it is not enough for me to be happy with the screenplay: everyone else involved with the film has to like it too.
So, this new draft is tighter, while longer, than the last draft, the six characters are a lot richer and, from the perspective of a one-time, former would be actor, each member of the cast now gets even more “spotlight” time.
Yet, throughout all of these drafts over the years, one thing has remained the same: the end. Just as I have never been completely happy with the name “Aftermath”, I have also been a little shaky about the end. The guy who wants to produce and direct it now has been on me for awhile to do something about the ending and I finally have done it, made a big, dramatic change that was, in many ways, really painful for me to write and will certainly be painful for the audience to see but, I have to say, as these things go, I think I am happy with it.
As mentioned before, it doesn’t matter how happy I am with the screenplays I write, I have to make the people who are actually shooting the film happy. If the producer-director likes the changes I made to “Aftermath”, the film is likely to be shot this summer. In that case, I would treat myself to a movie ...... “Super 8” looks good.
If that is not the case, if they don’t like it, then what? Do I continue to bend over backwards to make other people happy or do I take the whole thing back to the beginning, back to 2005, when there was an “I” in “team” and it was me and the only person I had to please was myself?
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
More UPs and DOWNs
Not to be too dramatic --- well, okay, I am a screenwriter, it’s my job to be dramatic -- but I was about to pack it all in an quit the other day, give up on writing for good.
Anyone who chooses a creative path in life is asking for trouble if not a lot of ups and downs. The last time that I wrote, I discussed the inherent nature of collaboration that is part of being a screenwriter: I write something and then someone else sees something else in it and uses it as the basis for a movie.
I was cool with it then but I am less cool now. That’s about all that I can say about it for now. In 2006, I was hired to write a screenplay. By the time the film was produced, the directed had rewritten my screenplay to the point that my original work was unrecognizable. In 2009, okay, not unrecognizable as my screenplay but tweaked in a direction that I did not intend it to go in. In 2011...sigh. I don’t know, maybe I really do suck as a writer if I keep writing screenplays that people want to produce once they have removed most if not all traces of my work. Maybe I need to be making my own films.
So, the ups and downs keep coming.
A few weeks ago, I beat out 300 other writers for a playwriting job. Yes, a play. Why not? I did sign a non-disclosure agreement so I really shouldn’t be too specific about the show. I was going to be writing a one-man show based on the life of a famous American, the famous American’s famous relatives were going to be involved, an Oscar-winning actor was going to be approached about playing the role and the plan was to take it all to Broadway next year. All of the plans are still in place but I am no longer part of them. I took lunch with a well-known man-about-town here in Philly, did some research, wrote a proposal so that the show could be pitched to the famous relatives for their approval and, hopefully, financing. Unfortunately, nobody told the Tony nominated playwright/director that he would be collaborating with me and nobody knew that this guy does not collaborate with anyone. So, I’m out. Whatever. That’s a DOWN.
My “acting” “career” as detailed in my last post has returned to suspended animation. I deposited my last paycheck today. Exit Stage Left. Neither UP nor DOWN.
On Sunday, I got the word that I was chosen to write a really offbeat black comic murder mystery --- think Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rope” as written by Charlie Kaufman -- and I am psyched. Even though it doesn’t pay much, I really wanted this gig and was worried that I might not get it. In the end, I had a phone interview, sent in a sample screenplay and was asked to send in two more screenplays. It came down to me and another writer but I came out on top. Who cares about money, I won the contest, I’m the better writer or something like that. Call this one an UP.
So, despite losing control over a screenplay once again, I am going to say that the UPs are in the lead. I had a major creative breakthrough on a screenplay that I have been struggling with for months and, just this morning, I heard that some financiers in Miami are interested in my old, old neo-noir screenplay “Payday.”
Though it was 32 degrees this morning, spring is finally here, baseball season begins this week, stuff is getting ready to bloom, things are looking UP.
Anyone who chooses a creative path in life is asking for trouble if not a lot of ups and downs. The last time that I wrote, I discussed the inherent nature of collaboration that is part of being a screenwriter: I write something and then someone else sees something else in it and uses it as the basis for a movie.
I was cool with it then but I am less cool now. That’s about all that I can say about it for now. In 2006, I was hired to write a screenplay. By the time the film was produced, the directed had rewritten my screenplay to the point that my original work was unrecognizable. In 2009, okay, not unrecognizable as my screenplay but tweaked in a direction that I did not intend it to go in. In 2011...sigh. I don’t know, maybe I really do suck as a writer if I keep writing screenplays that people want to produce once they have removed most if not all traces of my work. Maybe I need to be making my own films.
So, the ups and downs keep coming.
A few weeks ago, I beat out 300 other writers for a playwriting job. Yes, a play. Why not? I did sign a non-disclosure agreement so I really shouldn’t be too specific about the show. I was going to be writing a one-man show based on the life of a famous American, the famous American’s famous relatives were going to be involved, an Oscar-winning actor was going to be approached about playing the role and the plan was to take it all to Broadway next year. All of the plans are still in place but I am no longer part of them. I took lunch with a well-known man-about-town here in Philly, did some research, wrote a proposal so that the show could be pitched to the famous relatives for their approval and, hopefully, financing. Unfortunately, nobody told the Tony nominated playwright/director that he would be collaborating with me and nobody knew that this guy does not collaborate with anyone. So, I’m out. Whatever. That’s a DOWN.
My “acting” “career” as detailed in my last post has returned to suspended animation. I deposited my last paycheck today. Exit Stage Left. Neither UP nor DOWN.
On Sunday, I got the word that I was chosen to write a really offbeat black comic murder mystery --- think Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rope” as written by Charlie Kaufman -- and I am psyched. Even though it doesn’t pay much, I really wanted this gig and was worried that I might not get it. In the end, I had a phone interview, sent in a sample screenplay and was asked to send in two more screenplays. It came down to me and another writer but I came out on top. Who cares about money, I won the contest, I’m the better writer or something like that. Call this one an UP.
So, despite losing control over a screenplay once again, I am going to say that the UPs are in the lead. I had a major creative breakthrough on a screenplay that I have been struggling with for months and, just this morning, I heard that some financiers in Miami are interested in my old, old neo-noir screenplay “Payday.”
Though it was 32 degrees this morning, spring is finally here, baseball season begins this week, stuff is getting ready to bloom, things are looking UP.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
The screenwriter learns that there is no "I" in "team."
I have always said that filmmaking is a team sport; it takes a variety of people doing different things together to make it happen but, honestly, I didn't think the teamwork element applied to the screenplay.
I thought that I write the screenplay and the team makes it but I am now coming to realize that there has to be a degree of teamwork in the writing stage. I have to be open to input, questions, suggestions and different perspectives because, at this point, I am usually not the person who is making the film.
The person who is making the film either asked me to write a screenplay based on his/her ideas or saw something in one of my original screenplays that he/she wanted to produce. It becomes my job to serve the producer or director’s vision even if I was the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Ultimately, at some stage in the process, I have to sign off on the screenplay, walk away from it, let the production team do whatever they want to it --- while I cower in the shadows and hope for the best.
The L.A. producer who optioned “Aftermath” two years ago wanted me to make a number of changes to it in the six months that we worked together. The development and re-writing process in 2009 was the hardest work as a writer that I have ever been asked to do. Honestly, I have often been able to coast by on the relative strength of generally decent work but relative strength and general decency was not going to cut it in L.A. and I was really stretched and challenged. The result was a screenplay that is much deeper and richer, more solid than I could have done on my own.
While it is not official yet and I am supposed to be somewhat hush-hush about it at this point, it appears very likely that "Aftermath" will be shooting in Philly over the summer --- with a new title and, at the director's recommendation (and my willingness), a radically re-worked screenplay.
Truth be told, I just read the January 2008 and the July 2009 drafts and I have to admit, the screenplay needs some work.
Along the same lines, another production company is producing “April, Mae & Joon,” a short screenplay that I wrote. My original script was 5 pages long and largely silent. While the director sought my input on it and we volleyed several rewrites back and forth, she quickly developed her own vision of it. The screenplay has now become a 20 page, very talky piece with her stamp all over it that somehow retains my original ideas and themes.
Go team!
I thought that I write the screenplay and the team makes it but I am now coming to realize that there has to be a degree of teamwork in the writing stage. I have to be open to input, questions, suggestions and different perspectives because, at this point, I am usually not the person who is making the film.
The person who is making the film either asked me to write a screenplay based on his/her ideas or saw something in one of my original screenplays that he/she wanted to produce. It becomes my job to serve the producer or director’s vision even if I was the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Ultimately, at some stage in the process, I have to sign off on the screenplay, walk away from it, let the production team do whatever they want to it --- while I cower in the shadows and hope for the best.
The L.A. producer who optioned “Aftermath” two years ago wanted me to make a number of changes to it in the six months that we worked together. The development and re-writing process in 2009 was the hardest work as a writer that I have ever been asked to do. Honestly, I have often been able to coast by on the relative strength of generally decent work but relative strength and general decency was not going to cut it in L.A. and I was really stretched and challenged. The result was a screenplay that is much deeper and richer, more solid than I could have done on my own.
While it is not official yet and I am supposed to be somewhat hush-hush about it at this point, it appears very likely that "Aftermath" will be shooting in Philly over the summer --- with a new title and, at the director's recommendation (and my willingness), a radically re-worked screenplay.
Truth be told, I just read the January 2008 and the July 2009 drafts and I have to admit, the screenplay needs some work.
Along the same lines, another production company is producing “April, Mae & Joon,” a short screenplay that I wrote. My original script was 5 pages long and largely silent. While the director sought my input on it and we volleyed several rewrites back and forth, she quickly developed her own vision of it. The screenplay has now become a 20 page, very talky piece with her stamp all over it that somehow retains my original ideas and themes.
Go team!
Monday, February 14, 2011
Why I became an "actor" when I coudn't make it as a waiter
I couldn't get a job as a waiter so I became an actor!
Seriously, in December, when I found out that I wasn't getting any teaching work this semester, I went crazy, scrambling for any job that I could reasonably apply for. In one week, maybe even the same day, I applied for a job at a restaurant around the corner from me (owned and operated by U2's former personal chef but that's another story) and I responded to an ad placed by Philly/NYC theater company.
I never heard back from the restaurant but the theater company responded quickly. We had a series of e-mails, a couple of phone calls and, a few weeks ago, a face-to-face.
They are very much about blurring the lines between theater and real life in very high tech ways -- last year hiring actors to "play" people in facebook-oriented production online, in a theater and, to some degree on facebook and recently staging a similar production in NYC.
Their newest "production" is going to be the new website for the company where subscribers, fans and the culturally aware and excited 18-30 crowd will form a community, a back and forth with the members of the company --- who are all going to be fictional characters "created" and "played" by "actors" who will blog about the progress of work on various production but also art and cool culture in general --- and interact online with their fans, supporters, benefactors etc.
So, I have been “cast” and I am now "playing" a character online, on their blog, on facebook and, who knows where else? I have created a persona and I continue to cultivate the character, interacting with the other characters, posting links to sites, articles etc. of interest or concern to who we are and what we are doing. So, is this “Second Life: The Musical” or “Catfish: The Play”? I don’t know, I am just going with it and, why not, “All the world is just a stage” and so on. We all have our online persona anyway, I might as well have another one. By the time I post this blog, the gig could be over or it could just be heating up. And, yes, I am getting paid.
Seriously, in December, when I found out that I wasn't getting any teaching work this semester, I went crazy, scrambling for any job that I could reasonably apply for. In one week, maybe even the same day, I applied for a job at a restaurant around the corner from me (owned and operated by U2's former personal chef but that's another story) and I responded to an ad placed by Philly/NYC theater company.
I never heard back from the restaurant but the theater company responded quickly. We had a series of e-mails, a couple of phone calls and, a few weeks ago, a face-to-face.
They are very much about blurring the lines between theater and real life in very high tech ways -- last year hiring actors to "play" people in facebook-oriented production online, in a theater and, to some degree on facebook and recently staging a similar production in NYC.
Their newest "production" is going to be the new website for the company where subscribers, fans and the culturally aware and excited 18-30 crowd will form a community, a back and forth with the members of the company --- who are all going to be fictional characters "created" and "played" by "actors" who will blog about the progress of work on various production but also art and cool culture in general --- and interact online with their fans, supporters, benefactors etc.
So, I have been “cast” and I am now "playing" a character online, on their blog, on facebook and, who knows where else? I have created a persona and I continue to cultivate the character, interacting with the other characters, posting links to sites, articles etc. of interest or concern to who we are and what we are doing. So, is this “Second Life: The Musical” or “Catfish: The Play”? I don’t know, I am just going with it and, why not, “All the world is just a stage” and so on. We all have our online persona anyway, I might as well have another one. By the time I post this blog, the gig could be over or it could just be heating up. And, yes, I am getting paid.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
The Ups & Downs of David Greenberg: Confessions of a Minimum Wage Screenwriter Pt. 1
In early December, 2010, I walked into the Kimmel Center with a video camera. I got into a glass elevator, turned the camera on, pointed out the window and shot myself going up and going down. I came home, put the footage into my computer, edited it, added tons of effects, music etc. and posted the resulting minute long short film “The Ups & Downs of David Greenberg” on Vimeo, YouTube and Facebook pages.
At the time, I had no idea of how accurately “ups and downs” would wind up becoming so accurate. I just thought I was being witty because I was riding in an elevator.
It was right around this time that I found out that I was likely to be unemployed, without a teaching job this semester. My one class at University of the Arts was canceled due to low enrollment and I was not offered any classes at Drexel University.
Unemployment = DOWN.
I scrambled for work.
I responded to a post from a producer who was looking for someone to write a documentary about Bonnie and Clyde. I had two phone interviews, wrote a sample treatment, outlining the approach to the script that I would take.
I beat out 150 other writers and got the job = UP.
Next came a whirlwind of research/writing and I delivered the first draft of the the script, on time, three weeks later. I turned in a third draft earlier this week.
It paid what I would make in about 6 weeks of teaching.
However, six weeks of work was not going to cut it = DOWN
In one week, maybe even the same day, I applied for a job at a restaurant around the corner from me (owned and operated by U2's former personal chef but that's another story) and I responded to an ad placed by Philly/NYC theater company.
I had not worked in a restaurant since my early 20’s --- and, even, then, it was at my father’s place whenever he was short-handed.
As mentioned in my last blog post, I had given up on acting long ago. I think I last auditioned for something in 1985.
I never heard from the restaurant but the theater company contacted me quickly. We spoke on the phone, had a face to face and, as of this week, it looks like I will be earning a little bit of money as an actor -- sort of. Much more on on that, later.
I like to think that, when I couldn’t make it as waiter, I took a job as an actor to get me through.
Getting a chance to “perform,” to be involved with my first love: theater = UP
I banged out a good, ultra-low budget screenplay for a director friend, he liked it, didn’t love it, but planned to make anyway.
Ultimately he decided that, even with 6 characters, a handful of locations and no major special effects or set pieces, it was too big for him to mount at this time.
He still wants to make it, but he wants me to write something even smaller = UP/DOWN
A short film that I wrote, “The Audition”, played at a film festival in California = UP
But the big news was that, after two years in development at an L.A. production company, the option on my screenplay “Aftermath” expired in December.
I have retained the rights to it = UP/DOWN
The Philly production company that optioned it in 2006 has expressed an interest in it and I feel morally obligated to give them a shot if they want it because I broke my agreement with them in order to send it to L.A.
An L.A./Philly based producer who has long been familiar with it seems awfully interested in acquiring the project.
One or maybe even both of these companies could produce “Aftermath” this year = UP
Both could decide to pass on it = DOWN
The “Aftermath” story has been and continues to be an epic saga, something likely to dominate my blog posts for the indefinite future.
I am working all the time and I am still looking for a job.
These are the Confessions of a Minimum Wage Screenwriter.
To be continued...
At the time, I had no idea of how accurately “ups and downs” would wind up becoming so accurate. I just thought I was being witty because I was riding in an elevator.
It was right around this time that I found out that I was likely to be unemployed, without a teaching job this semester. My one class at University of the Arts was canceled due to low enrollment and I was not offered any classes at Drexel University.
Unemployment = DOWN.
I scrambled for work.
I responded to a post from a producer who was looking for someone to write a documentary about Bonnie and Clyde. I had two phone interviews, wrote a sample treatment, outlining the approach to the script that I would take.
I beat out 150 other writers and got the job = UP.
Next came a whirlwind of research/writing and I delivered the first draft of the the script, on time, three weeks later. I turned in a third draft earlier this week.
It paid what I would make in about 6 weeks of teaching.
However, six weeks of work was not going to cut it = DOWN
In one week, maybe even the same day, I applied for a job at a restaurant around the corner from me (owned and operated by U2's former personal chef but that's another story) and I responded to an ad placed by Philly/NYC theater company.
I had not worked in a restaurant since my early 20’s --- and, even, then, it was at my father’s place whenever he was short-handed.
As mentioned in my last blog post, I had given up on acting long ago. I think I last auditioned for something in 1985.
I never heard from the restaurant but the theater company contacted me quickly. We spoke on the phone, had a face to face and, as of this week, it looks like I will be earning a little bit of money as an actor -- sort of. Much more on on that, later.
I like to think that, when I couldn’t make it as waiter, I took a job as an actor to get me through.
Getting a chance to “perform,” to be involved with my first love: theater = UP
I banged out a good, ultra-low budget screenplay for a director friend, he liked it, didn’t love it, but planned to make anyway.
Ultimately he decided that, even with 6 characters, a handful of locations and no major special effects or set pieces, it was too big for him to mount at this time.
He still wants to make it, but he wants me to write something even smaller = UP/DOWN
A short film that I wrote, “The Audition”, played at a film festival in California = UP
But the big news was that, after two years in development at an L.A. production company, the option on my screenplay “Aftermath” expired in December.
I have retained the rights to it = UP/DOWN
The Philly production company that optioned it in 2006 has expressed an interest in it and I feel morally obligated to give them a shot if they want it because I broke my agreement with them in order to send it to L.A.
An L.A./Philly based producer who has long been familiar with it seems awfully interested in acquiring the project.
One or maybe even both of these companies could produce “Aftermath” this year = UP
Both could decide to pass on it = DOWN
The “Aftermath” story has been and continues to be an epic saga, something likely to dominate my blog posts for the indefinite future.
I am working all the time and I am still looking for a job.
These are the Confessions of a Minimum Wage Screenwriter.
To be continued...
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
The Gray Swan
This is not a review of “Black Swan”, it is a response to it. It’s been awhile since a film affected me so strongly. Sure, on one level, the film is about ballet but that is just on the surface, what drives the plot.
The film is about so much more.
The film is about film, painting, writing, acting, singing, music and on and on. Anyone who wants to create, to engage in art, doesn’t do it passively, they give of themselves, they throw themselves into the creative process.
“Black Swan” really struck a chord with me because, even though it is about ballet on the surface, it is really about all art and anyone who struggles to create something. At one point the creative director of the ballet criticizes his star dancer for being too perfect, too precise, mechanical, cold and distant and, to me, it came off as Darren Aronofsky, the director of the movie, making a statement about big-budget Hollywood movies --- this film is relatively low-budget, shot with really grainy film and herky-jerky hand-held camera movement.
I remember watching “It’s Complicated” not long ago and being so distracted by how obsessively good the lighting was in one particular scene. It was ridiculous, I could tell that, in this kitchen location, a light or lights had been set up “just so” in order to make a bowl of fruit stand out, not even a bowl of fruit that was an important prop, a plot device. It was like this throughout the whole movie and not just this one film, most “big” films. It didn’t have anything to do with art per se -- all due respect to the DP and the gaffer who are obviously master craftsmen -- it was about technical precision.
Artists don’t just wake up one day and suddenly decide that they want to be artists, it is not intellectual at first, it is instinctual, we are drawn to create, to perform. I teach screenwriting at an art school. My students want to be filmmakers. I don’t think that any one of them had a meeting with their high school guidance counselor, had to come up with something to say and spat out “I want to go to film school.” Okay, maybe one or two of them once said “Well, um, I like movies, can I go to college for that?” No, I like to think that, like me, they had a long-standing burning desire to create, to express themselves, their worldview, to tell stories and to connect with others, to make work that resonates.
Still, even if we are “good at art”, it is often not enough, we want to be great at it, we want to be perfect.
While I was into acting, theater and film from a very early age, by the time I became a teenager, I think I wanted to become a stand-up comedian, I wanted to be on Saturday Night Live. I inhaled comedy, studied it, practiced it, listened to Bill Cosby, Richard Pryor and Steve Martin over and over again.
I saw Cosby at the York Pennsylvania State Fair when I was 15 and it was breath-taking, life-changing. I am pretty sure that I had never experienced that level of stage craft before but I know that I have never witnessed anything quite like it since. The show was so coherent and cohesive, like an intricate puzzle with many, many pieces that all fit together. Cosby came out on-stage, did one joke that served as something like a thesis statement from which every other joke evolved, even developed into a seemingly unrelated tangent but always came back, always had something to do with the original joke, which he would touch on for a bit and then go off in another direction and so on.
I think I knew, at that moment, deep down, that I could probably never attain that level of perfection, the thing that Nina, Natalie Portman’s character in “Black Swan” is obsessively after.
Also, in a really lucky moment of self-realization, while I was slitting the throat of my comedy career, I admitted to myself that I probably didn’t have what it takes to become an actor. Sure, I had talent but I didn’t have the looks, the body and, most importantly, the drive or the thick skin to make it in the world of making it as an actor.
A friend of mine who was a year ahead of me in high school was nearing graduation and, when I asked her what she was doing about college, she said that she was going to film school and, of course, my reaction was “Well, um, I like movies, can I go to college for that?”
Who knows? Maybe we seek attention and crave adulation. I always tell my students about the role of art in society, that artists are vessels for the human experience, that they cannot help it but take in the world at large, the things around us and then re-present or represent everything from their perspective, hopefully in a way that resonate with those who look at whatever it is that we do. Whatever the reason, we can’t do anything else, our art consumes us.
I can even see the beginnings of it, to a degree in my kids. Three weeks ago, my 16 year old daughter got up on a stage and with grace, poise and passion performed a long, intricate, complicated Beethoven piece in a recital. That one performance was the result of hours and hours of practice during which I can tell you, she sometimes resembled not Vladimir Horowitz but Keith Moon. Sure, practice makes perfect but if can drive you mad sometimes.
My 13 year old daughter has had a number of poems, short stories, book reviews and articles published in very high end literary magazines for young writers. Last year she entered two novel excerpts into a competition for homeschoolers. Both of her entries were among the five finalists and, in the end, she wound up in first and second place. Still, there is little that I can do when I see her in the agony of writer’s block or suffering the self-doubt and second-guesses about our talent that all artists go through.
Choosing an artistic path can be a painful, scary thing. Art succeeds when others respond to it. In order to get a response from an audience we have to put it, ourselves out there, be it as a ballerina, a singer-songwriter, a poet, a painter. Somewhere down the line, we say to ourselves “I think I am pretty good at this” and, in a best case scenario, we work up the confidence to create something, to show something, to play something and people agree with us and encourage us --- often to pursue often at the expense of learning how to do anything practical or developing marketable skills.
I wanted to be a perfect stand-up comedian and I could have driven myself crazy in pursuit of this goal. There is a scene in the wonderful Jerry Seinfeld documentary “Comedian” where, in an effort to rebuild and reinvent his comedy career from the ground up, he pays a visit to Bill Cosby who comes off as uncharacteristically laid back and humble, almost like a holy man of comedy. Seinfeld leaves the meeting speechless, his breath taken away. He is inspired. Maybe if I could have met Cosby when I was 15...
I don’t strive for perfection. I feel like I can never be perfect, that maybe, if I am lucky, I will be good enough. I am not perfect and I never will be. Most of the time, I think I am a pretty good screenwriter. Sometimes I wonder if I am fooling myself or anyone else when I say that this is what I “do.” I learn something new every time that I sit down to write and I know that I can never learn it all, that there isn’t even an “all” to learn, that it is infinite, that it keeps going, that I will never be the black swan or the white swan but somewhere in between, the gray swan.
The film is about so much more.
The film is about film, painting, writing, acting, singing, music and on and on. Anyone who wants to create, to engage in art, doesn’t do it passively, they give of themselves, they throw themselves into the creative process.
“Black Swan” really struck a chord with me because, even though it is about ballet on the surface, it is really about all art and anyone who struggles to create something. At one point the creative director of the ballet criticizes his star dancer for being too perfect, too precise, mechanical, cold and distant and, to me, it came off as Darren Aronofsky, the director of the movie, making a statement about big-budget Hollywood movies --- this film is relatively low-budget, shot with really grainy film and herky-jerky hand-held camera movement.
I remember watching “It’s Complicated” not long ago and being so distracted by how obsessively good the lighting was in one particular scene. It was ridiculous, I could tell that, in this kitchen location, a light or lights had been set up “just so” in order to make a bowl of fruit stand out, not even a bowl of fruit that was an important prop, a plot device. It was like this throughout the whole movie and not just this one film, most “big” films. It didn’t have anything to do with art per se -- all due respect to the DP and the gaffer who are obviously master craftsmen -- it was about technical precision.
Artists don’t just wake up one day and suddenly decide that they want to be artists, it is not intellectual at first, it is instinctual, we are drawn to create, to perform. I teach screenwriting at an art school. My students want to be filmmakers. I don’t think that any one of them had a meeting with their high school guidance counselor, had to come up with something to say and spat out “I want to go to film school.” Okay, maybe one or two of them once said “Well, um, I like movies, can I go to college for that?” No, I like to think that, like me, they had a long-standing burning desire to create, to express themselves, their worldview, to tell stories and to connect with others, to make work that resonates.
Still, even if we are “good at art”, it is often not enough, we want to be great at it, we want to be perfect.
While I was into acting, theater and film from a very early age, by the time I became a teenager, I think I wanted to become a stand-up comedian, I wanted to be on Saturday Night Live. I inhaled comedy, studied it, practiced it, listened to Bill Cosby, Richard Pryor and Steve Martin over and over again.
I saw Cosby at the York Pennsylvania State Fair when I was 15 and it was breath-taking, life-changing. I am pretty sure that I had never experienced that level of stage craft before but I know that I have never witnessed anything quite like it since. The show was so coherent and cohesive, like an intricate puzzle with many, many pieces that all fit together. Cosby came out on-stage, did one joke that served as something like a thesis statement from which every other joke evolved, even developed into a seemingly unrelated tangent but always came back, always had something to do with the original joke, which he would touch on for a bit and then go off in another direction and so on.
I think I knew, at that moment, deep down, that I could probably never attain that level of perfection, the thing that Nina, Natalie Portman’s character in “Black Swan” is obsessively after.
Also, in a really lucky moment of self-realization, while I was slitting the throat of my comedy career, I admitted to myself that I probably didn’t have what it takes to become an actor. Sure, I had talent but I didn’t have the looks, the body and, most importantly, the drive or the thick skin to make it in the world of making it as an actor.
A friend of mine who was a year ahead of me in high school was nearing graduation and, when I asked her what she was doing about college, she said that she was going to film school and, of course, my reaction was “Well, um, I like movies, can I go to college for that?”
Who knows? Maybe we seek attention and crave adulation. I always tell my students about the role of art in society, that artists are vessels for the human experience, that they cannot help it but take in the world at large, the things around us and then re-present or represent everything from their perspective, hopefully in a way that resonate with those who look at whatever it is that we do. Whatever the reason, we can’t do anything else, our art consumes us.
I can even see the beginnings of it, to a degree in my kids. Three weeks ago, my 16 year old daughter got up on a stage and with grace, poise and passion performed a long, intricate, complicated Beethoven piece in a recital. That one performance was the result of hours and hours of practice during which I can tell you, she sometimes resembled not Vladimir Horowitz but Keith Moon. Sure, practice makes perfect but if can drive you mad sometimes.
My 13 year old daughter has had a number of poems, short stories, book reviews and articles published in very high end literary magazines for young writers. Last year she entered two novel excerpts into a competition for homeschoolers. Both of her entries were among the five finalists and, in the end, she wound up in first and second place. Still, there is little that I can do when I see her in the agony of writer’s block or suffering the self-doubt and second-guesses about our talent that all artists go through.
Choosing an artistic path can be a painful, scary thing. Art succeeds when others respond to it. In order to get a response from an audience we have to put it, ourselves out there, be it as a ballerina, a singer-songwriter, a poet, a painter. Somewhere down the line, we say to ourselves “I think I am pretty good at this” and, in a best case scenario, we work up the confidence to create something, to show something, to play something and people agree with us and encourage us --- often to pursue often at the expense of learning how to do anything practical or developing marketable skills.
I wanted to be a perfect stand-up comedian and I could have driven myself crazy in pursuit of this goal. There is a scene in the wonderful Jerry Seinfeld documentary “Comedian” where, in an effort to rebuild and reinvent his comedy career from the ground up, he pays a visit to Bill Cosby who comes off as uncharacteristically laid back and humble, almost like a holy man of comedy. Seinfeld leaves the meeting speechless, his breath taken away. He is inspired. Maybe if I could have met Cosby when I was 15...
I don’t strive for perfection. I feel like I can never be perfect, that maybe, if I am lucky, I will be good enough. I am not perfect and I never will be. Most of the time, I think I am a pretty good screenwriter. Sometimes I wonder if I am fooling myself or anyone else when I say that this is what I “do.” I learn something new every time that I sit down to write and I know that I can never learn it all, that there isn’t even an “all” to learn, that it is infinite, that it keeps going, that I will never be the black swan or the white swan but somewhere in between, the gray swan.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
