Joys of Pitching

I was in middle of pitching three TV series ideas when the newly minted network exec – formerly a lawyer, rock musician, accountant and personal trainer—interrupted me.

“You have no clue what makes a good TV series concept,” the exec said. “And your pitches suck.”

I smiled. “But does the rest work for you?”

“You want to hear a pitch? This is the perfect pitch, I just bought it.” the exec continued. “There’s a cop. He’s a rebel. He’s a rogue. He doesn’t play by the rules. He’s also an incredible slob. He’s teamed up with a new partner who’s a stickler for the rules, a team player, and a neat freak. His new partner is…a dog.”

I stared at him. “A dog?”

“A dog,” he said proudly.

“Does the dog talk?” I asked.

The exec’s eyes lighted up. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.”

Tonight’s Sopranos

A good friend of mine, Terry Winter, writes for the Sopranos. He’s a very funny writer, and not surprisingly, writes the funniest episodes of the show. Despite best-known for running the Pines Barrens episode last season. Anyway tonight he wrote episode that was pure Terry. Besides being damn funny, it was full of TV references. Including nods to that’s life, which was written and produced by former Sopranos writer Frank Renzuli, as well as Nash Bridges, which was written by John Wirth, who Terry also worked with. There were also some sly references to law and order, Dick Wolf, and Rene Balcer. There was also a clip on the TV in one of the flashbacks to episode of Cannon — and it wouldn’t surprise me if David Chase worked on it at one point in his early career. In an episode a season or two ago, Terry had junior watching diagnosis murder. I still can’t figure out why Terry didn’t use a clip from the episode he wrote for us!

The Walk

This is a true story…

I was in the offices of a major movie producer who had just read a manuscript version of my new novel The Walk (Five Star, January 2004) and wanted to talk about a possible screen version. The story is about a TV producer who is stuck in downtown Los Angeles when a major earthquake decimates the city and has to walk back home to the suburbs.

The executive loved the book, the human drama, and the action-adventure elements. He only had a few thoughts and concerns.

“Does the guy have to be a TV producer?” he asked.

I was prepared for that question. I knew the character might be “too inside,” meaning too much a part of the entertainment industry, to connect with a wider audience.

“No,” I said, “Of course not. We can give him a different profession.”

“How about if the TV producer was a team of cheerleaders instead?” the executive asked.

I laughed, thinking he was joking. He wasn’t. But he wasn’t done with me yet.

“And what if the earthquake was a tidal wave?”

The book remains unfilmed.

Rebus Axed

From the Evening Post

Rebus show killed off by ITV bosses

EDINBURGH’S most famous fictional crime fighter, Inspector Rebus, has been axed by television bosses after just four episodes.

The show – starring Scottish actor John Hannah – has been dumped by ITV despite proving a hit with viewers. But producers hope the show will get a new lease of life in the United States after being snapped up by BBC America.

Four books about the fictional detective, who was created by award-winning city-based author Ian Rankin, were adapted for television by Clerkenwell Films, Hannah’s own production company, and Scottish TV.

Feature-length film Black and Blue pulled in nine million viewers when it was aired in 2000.

A spokeswoman for ITV said: “Four episodes were commissioned and they did very well. But we are not obliged to make any more.”

In other words, she’s saying the show sucked. I don’t disagree. I’m a huge rebus fan and I was really looking forward to the series. But John Hannah was miscast, the direction was flat and the scripts didn’t capture the feel of Ian Rankin’s wonderful books at all (it reminded me of the lousy Blood Work adaptation…it, too, sounded so good on paper and was so bad in execution). It wasn’t the Inspector Morse/Nero Wolfe sort of adaptation all of us rebus fans were waiting for. I hope they try again — with new writers and a new star .

Offending the Morons

This is a true story:

I was working on Murphy’s Law, a light-hearted detective series starring George Segal as an insurance investigator when I got this call from the network censor with notes on our script:

“You’ve got one of your characters calling another character a moron,” the censor said.

“Yeah, so?”

“You can’t do that,” he said. “We’ve approved ‘dolt,’‘dummy’ or ‘dink,’ as acceptable alternatives.”

“What’s wrong with calling somebody a moron?”

“You’ll offend all the morons in the audience,” he said.

I thought he was joking.

He wasn’t.

So I said, “Don’t worry, all the morons in the audience are watching Hunter.”

Three months later, Murphy’s Law was cancelled… and I got a job on Hunter.

CSIfication of America

I got this note in response to my “Fiction is Reality on Television” post:

I was amused by your post on CSI, because I work in a forensics lab [name and location omitted] and CSI has affected our business, too, albeit in different ways than it’s affected yours. One problem we have is that with CSI and NEW DETECTIVES and the like, everybody’s an expert (as Briscoe
wise-cracked on one episode of LAW & ORDER). Except, of course, they’re not.

Example: this week, a cop brings in a case. Some landscapers were doing work in a yard when they unearthed a tin labeled with an engraved plate bearing a name, birth date, and death date. Inside
were burned bone fragments. The cop gives us his theory: he thinks it’s a young kid, but the remains are very small for the three-year lifespan on the cover, so the kid was clearly malnourished. The cremation was done by the parents, in some improvised way, before they got rid of the kid. He had a very strange, lurid scenario worked out.

So we open the tin up, dump it into the screens to sift, and what do we find? A buckle. From a collar.

This wasn’t a kid. It was somebody’s pet cat.

The good news: CSI’s success means a) funding and b) jobs. The bad news: people actually *believe* what they see on the show, down to the bizarre plots.

I’m sure people on jurys now consider themselves forensic experts, too. I wonder what impact the show is having in America’s courtrooms.

TV Writing 101: The All Important Drive Up

We’d just delivered our script on a long-running cop show. The star called us into his trailer for his notes.

“I read your script,” he said. “There wasn’t a single drive up.”

“What’s a drive up?” I asked.

He stared at me. “How can you call yourself a professional writer and not know what a drive up is? It’s the scene where I drive up, get out of my car, and walk to the door of wherever I’m going.”

“Oh,” I replied, relieved. “We didn’t put any of those in on purpose. We like to start a scene in the middle, after you’ve arrived, after all the introductions. The viewers all know who you are and how you got there.”

“How?”

“What do you mean?”

“How can they be certain how I got there?” he asked.

“I’m sure they’ll assume you drove,” I said.

“But which car did I drive? What color is it? Is it a cool car or a lame car?” he said. “The drive-ups are important. People love to see me drive up. It’s what’s made this show a hit.”

He then turned to the first scene of the show. “Great scene,” he said. “Powerful stuff.” He tore the page out of his script. “But I can do all of this with a look.”

He then went to the next scene and tore two pages from it. “I can do this with a look, too.”

It didn’t take us long to figure out why he really liked the drive-ups so much…and why the drama of most scenes was best conveyed with a look rather than a word. No dialogue to learn.

Rampaging Lesbians!

That got your attention, didn’t it?
One of the amazing things about the world wide web is how searching for one thing leads you to another then another… and then you’re someplace in cyberspace you never would have discovered before. I started by stumbling on a mention of one of our “SeaQuest 2032” episodes (yeah, I’m one of those ego maniacs who googles his own name every so often), which guest-starred Patricia Charbonneau. I clicked on her name, because I wondered what she’s been up to lately, which led to links for a lesbian romance movie she did with Helen Shaver, which led to…

…The Encyclopedia of Lesbian Love Scenes, also known as “Clublez,” which is soon going to be my friend Bill’s favorite site on the web. Clublez is essentially an online list of lesbian love scenes in movies and TV series the world over, with reviews and a point scores for “Buildup,” “Kissing,” “Love Scenes,” and “Movie Overall.” Many of the reviews include — hubba hubba — vidcaps. Most of the stuff is from mainstream movies, direct-to-video thrillers, TV episodes (the site’s definition of what qualifies as “lesbian scene” is pretty liberal… two women who happen to be in the same room is almost enough) and in a seperate section, a handful of x-rated stuff from some guy named Viv Thomas.
The guy who created this site (I’m assuming it’s a guy) also has something called “Kissing Galleries” — pictures of women kissing from around the world. Two gals kissing seems to be what this guy gets off on most…judging by his reviews and his “galleries.”
As you can see, I thoroughly explored the site… all in the name of research. I’m doing a script on, um, guys who compile lists of lesbian love scenes. Honest.

Getting Ahead

On the heels of saying most execs we deal with are bright, funny, and a pleasure to work with… that’s not always the case. Here’s one of those cases…

We were writing our first episode of a detective series. We turned the script in to the network executive for his notes. The first note was in scene one, act one.

“The hero doesn’t know what’s going on,” the executive said.

“That’s right,” I replied. “Because it’s a mystery.”

“You can’t do that,” the executive said. “The hero should be ahead of the story.”

“Ahead of the story?” I asked. “What does that mean?”

“The hero should know,” the executive said.

“Know what?” I replied.

“Everything,” The executive said.

“But he just arrived at the scene,” I said. “He’s taking his first look at the body… and you want him to already know everything?”

“Is he a hero or a complete moron?” The executive asked. “Nobody wants to watch a show about a guy who’s lost, confused, and stupid.”

“It’s a mystery and he’s a detective,” I said. “He’s going to show us how smart he is by solving the crime.”

“If he was smart,” the executive said, “he wouldn’t have to solve it. He’d already know.”

“So what’s the mystery?” I asked.

“There isn’t one,” the executive said.

“So what’s our show about if there’s no mystery to solve?”

“You tell me,” the executive said. “You’re the writer.”