The spec market is up the Swanee at the moment. It’s grim. According to Jason Scoggins only 14 out of the 227 spec scripts that went wide since January have sold, with none selling from the 39 specs that went wide in June.
The days of studios entering into bidding wars for material are gone. As are the days when studios snapped up scripts just for parts, or just for the concept, or just to remove a script from the marketplace. It’s sad.
As a movie fan, I hope things change.
In the next couple of weeks my agent is about to go out with a script of mine called Grabbers. It’s a comedy set in a horror world — much like Tremors and Gremlins before it — but with a huge, off-the-wall twist to shake things up. Set in Ireland, it’s easily the simplest script of mine to pitch as the premise does all the heavy lifting for me. I just have to recite the logline and people get it. It also landed me my agent. Thanks to a very good friend whom I’ll forever be indebted to (you know who you are, bhoy!) the script snuck its way onto the reading pile at Working Title. It was read by their readers, recommended, and passed up the chain to the execs who in turn read it, loved it, and called me in for a meeting. After that meeting Working Title passed the script onto some agents on my behalf. Those agents responded enthusiastically and once they each had read my portfolio of other specs I met with each and was left with the difficult choice of which agent/agency to go with. I signed with the fantastic Ed Hughes at Linda Seifert.
I’ve been very, very lucky so far.
Soon others in the industry will receive Grabbers and I hope it continues to draw attention. I’m very proud of it. I have no idea how things will pan out, but I’m fit to burst thanks to the response so far. I’m playing against the odds here, and even though it’s never been harder to set up a script somewhere who knows what could happen? After the last few weeks I’ve had, I don’t believe the odds matter . . .
Who knows if the industry will correct this self-destructive path it’s on, but I hope so. I have too many stories I want to tell yet.
Two things continually amaze me about screenwriting.
The first is how small the film industry is. Everyone knows everyone. “Six degress of Kevin Bacon” is actually only two degrees in reality.
The other thing is how my writing keeps improving considerably. Scripts I wrote last year and poured everything into still need a polish today if they’re to be seen by fresh eyes. Nothing is ever completely finished.
Not all clichés are bad, but bad clichés are awful. They’re the kind that can erase all goodwill a story has going for it in one fell swoop. So why do we keep seeing them? I don’t know, but I blame the parents. And the clergy.
Those feckin’ clergy!
In the interest of a bit of craic, and in the hope that this may end up somewhat useful to someone somewhere at sometime (i.e. me), I’ve started this list of movie clichés (much like my Definitive List of Cliché Dialogue post). Now there are many movie clichés out there but most of those fall on the technical side. Clichés like guns flashing when they’re fired, all rooms in Paris having views of the Eiffel Tower, Nicolas Cage having hair, the punchline always being the third thing you list. I could go on and on — so I will — blood stains being red instead of brown, sitting bolt upright after a nightmare, the cast of Desperate Housewives being unable to frown. . . This list isn’t focused on those clichés. It’s focused on the script clichés that pop up in movies and do little but hurt the film’s credibility. These are the clichés that suck ballz™.
To call this list “definitive” is a bit of a cod, but it may end up getting there. I plan on updating it anytime I’m reminded of another one. As of right now, though, here’s what the movies have taught me:
All overweight black women are sassy.
All black men are funny.
All children are adorable and sweet. Always.
All teenagers are surly.
All cats are clumsy. Knocking shit over like blind drunks.
All mobile phones are allergic to nature. If there are trees about, you’re on your own.
All computer passwords are lowercase names. Passwords to porn sites would take longer to hack.
All hotel doors can be opened — in seconds — with a credit card, paper clip and/or hairpin.
All other doors can be opened with a single swift kick that will blow it clean off its hinges.
Windows can be polevaulted through, unharmed.
If you’re a police and you’re in a hurry, you can run along the tops of cars parked in traffic.
All forensic evidence can be erased with a handkerchief.
A woman can be knocked stone-cold unconscious with a single thump to the back of the head.
Bad guys love opera music.
Bad guys wear suits.
All henchmen are brute thugs.
All henchwomen are supermodel ninjas.
All bombs, including nuclear war heads, are constructed with red LED timers built into their casing.
All parents read to their children at night, tuck them in and tickle their bellies. They also leave their bedroom door ajar so that later that child will be kidnapped.
Female love interests will at some point be ordered to “take the wheel” in a high speed pursuit.
The police will be waiting for them in a layby ready to join in the chase.
Pubs have TVs behind the counter, tuned into the news. Even at night.
The person hiding out from the cops will be at the bar, sitting on a stool by themselves, watching this news report.
All people who drink have problems.
All people with drink problems drink hard liquor.
Yep, far from definitive, but you see where I’m going. So what am I missing?
I’m shocked about Michael Jackson’s death. I was at the pub when the news broke and a bustling bar went weirdly silent as pretty much every single person received text messages within a few minutes of each other. No one believed it, but now we all know. I can’t help thinking this is what it must have felt like when Elvis died.
The first concert I went to was the Bad tour in Cork in 1987. I had the studded wristband, the Bad tour t-shirt, the lot. An amazing memory. Through all the weirdness and abuse allegations that followed on from that time I never stopped loving his music. I feel like a part of my childhood has died today.
I’m dreading the next few days of Jackson coverage, but I hope to avoid a lot of the bitter cynical bile that will no doubt be spewed about him, his music and those who liked him. Despite it all, though, the facts will remain the same: a true icon has died. I’d say one of the last greats.
His music was transcendent, his legend was unparalleled, and his influence will be unremitting.
A couple of months back I worked (as a runner/production assistant) on a short film called ‘Origin’ for one Danny Stack. The film shoot was great craic, one of the best I’ve worked on, and now it has a spiffy new website and a cracking little teaser trailer for you to check out. So do. ‘Tis great!
This film is scary-larious! It’s the funniest horror film I’ve seen in ages and impossible not to enjoy. The story of a Hitchcockian loan-officer (Alison Lohman) who’s cursed — doomed to be dragged to hell by a demon — the film is jammed with good natured scares and over-the-top hilarity. It’s a stellar return to form for Sam Raimi and with a great economy of character and a simple, effective premise, it’s not only a great date movie but a great movie in general. Alongside Star Trek it’s one of the best popcorn movies of the year so far.
This film is scary-larious! It’s the funniest horror film I’ve seen in ages and impossible not to enjoy. The story of a Hitchcockian loan-officer (Alison Lohman) who’s cursed — doomed to be dragged to hell by a demon — the film is jammed with good natured scares and over-the-top hilarity. It’s a stellar return to form for Sam Raimi and with a great economy of character and a simple, effective premise, it’s not only a great date movie but a great movie in general. Alongside Star Trek it’s one of the best popcorn movies of the year so far.
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