How I Spent My Austin Vacation
by Steve Barr, AFF newbie
Part The Eighth
Friday, October 21, 2005 (after lunch)
Despite my mythopizzalogical assumptions, a "round table" has nothing to do with the King of the Britons or a chain of purveyors of baked savory pies of Italian origin.
Rather, it's a room full of ten or so round tables, at each of which sit 9 amateurs and one industry pro (in this case, Creative Execs at production companies). Every 20 minutes, the pros rotate tables, so the amateurs get some "face time" with three potential mentors or employers in the space of an hour.
(It's a bit like Speed Dating, if you're the type who dates 9 desperate people, all at the same time.)
((And if you're that type, all I can say is -- lucky bastard.))
At these kinds of things, the only way to make a really *strong* impression is to make a really *bad* impression, so I decided not to try to become best friends with any of the folks who were gracious enough to come to Austin (on their own dime, no less). Instead, I developed my Master Strategy -- I would take my foot off the Steve-celerator and just enjoy the conversation, and try to ask at least one question that was complex enough to demonstrate that I'm not totally new to the game.
(Props again to Wordplay, for giving me the ability to act as if I know what I’m talking about in these kinds of situations.)
The CEs who visited my table were Tai Duncan (who is a boy) from Paul Schiff Productions, Richard Bever from Andrew Lauren Productions, and Michael Messina from New Amsterdam Entertainment. All three were quite friendly, and dealt with the newbie questions with a pleasant lack of condescension.
Much like the Breaking Into The Business panel, none of them said anything that was totally new to me, but they did rephrase a few things that I already knew, in a way that made them more practical than academic. (And if you buy me a beer, I may share those things with you.) I think the most valuable thing, though, was getting to just chat with these dudes in a fairly relaxed and unstructured environment, to remind the wannabe screenwriters that Suits are also human beings (well, most of them, most of the time).
During one of the conversations, my cell phone went off. There was a time when that sort of thing would have indicated that I was an important and influential man, but those times are long gone. Word to the wise - "Vibrate" is your friend (in so, so many ways).
Anyway, after the round table session was over, I wanted to go to a panel on Writing Settings and Descriptions, featuring some guy named Buck Henry.
...what?
You don't know who Buck Henry is? Fuck you. Stop reading this journal RIGHT FUCKING NOW and go educate yourself.
(Goddamn kids these days...)
I saw Brett N about to go into the small room in which the panel as being held, and asked him to save me a seat while I returned the call I had just received. Turns out it was a guy who we were wooing to do a bunch of free CGI on a short film we have in post right now (which is called QUIET and is turning out to be really fucking creepy (in a good way)), and he had some technical concerns, and so I had to smile and nod and pretend I knew what he was talking about when he started going all technological on my ass.
(Yes, I can program a VCR, but that's about it. Start talking about 30i vs. 24p, with a 3-2 pulldown, and my eyes glaze over and I start thinking about boobies.)
((Mmmmm... Boobies...))
Anyway, it turned into a 20-minute conversation, after which I headed back to the room where Buck Henry was dispensing his folksy wisdom --
-- are you still reading this? Yes, you, in the back. Didn't I tell you to go educate yourself on who the fuck Buck Henry is?
Don't MAKE me stop this car.
[sigh] Honestly, I don't know why I bother...
Well, the room was now packed full and spilling out into the hallway. The panelists (Buck Henry, Bill Wittliff and Bud Shrake) were speaking into microphones, but apparently the guy running the PA system had partied too much at the Driskill bar the night before and was asleep at the switch, because no one in the back of the audience could hear a damn word they were saying.
Unfortunately, I am still unable to read lips, so I wandered upstairs to another panel - Writers Who Direct. I'm slowly moving in that direction (heh heh, get it? "direction!"), so I was interested in the topic. The panelists were pretty cool -- Shane Black (whose directorial debut I've already talked about here) and Terry George (who wrote and directed a little film you may have heard of called HOTEL RWANDA).
Shane is brash and cheerfully obscene; Terry is soft-spoken with a charming Irish lilt. It was a study in opposites to see them speak on the same panel. Cool shit.
One refreshing thing they both said was that directing is not quite as abstruse and impossibly difficult as most writers are led to believe. They didn't belittle the skill and focus and sheer physical stamina that is required, not at all, but they both said that if you can surround yourself with a skilled DP and 1st AD, and a producer who supports your authority, you can direct a competent movie.
Whether or not you have the "vision" to be a good director is a different question altogether, but the point is, you shouldn’t be afraid of the technical stuff.
(Music to my technophobe ears, lemme tell ya.)
Diligently following my Master Strategy, I asked what I thought was an erudite and sophisticated question when the Q&A portion of the session rolled around. After the panel was over, Ann Daman (who had cleverly deduced my Master Strategy) called me a Question Whore. I couldn't get offended, though, because that was an accurate description.
--Wait, we're getting to the thing I said to a distinguished writer that should have gotten me punched in the neck.--
Ann, while she was belittling the Master Strategy, was holding a hardback book. Upon quick perusal, it turned out to be the story of the young Captain Hook (of Peter Pan fame). Wow, cool concept, I thought.
Ann then introduced me to James V. Hart, who had written the book. (He also wrote the screenplays for HOOK, BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA, CONTACT, MARY SHELLEY'S FRANKENSTEIN and SAHARA, among others.) Intending to give him a compliment, I said:
"I love the idea for your book. It's just like Wicked."
Now, in my own defense, at my day job I had done some work on the stage musical based on the book Wicked (which is the story of the young Wicked Witch of the West (of Oz fame)). That's why it came so quickly to mind, and seemed a good comparison, both in subject matter and in the high level of quality.
It only occurred to me after the words had been ejaculated from my yammering gob that my compliment could be (and apparently was) interpreted to mean:
"Hey, way to rip off the premise of that other book. Which, by the way, is far more successful than yours. You fucking hack."
Which is why James V. Hart, successful and award-winner screenwriter and novelist, flipped me off.
(Note to our non-American readers: to "flip someone off," you make a fist and vertically extend your middle finger. This hand signal is common sign language for "Fuck you, you talentless piece of shit. I'm an award-winning screenwriter and novelist, and wouldn't cross the street to piss on you if your hair was on fire. Eat shit and die choking." or some variation of the above.)
He smiled while he did it, or else I think I would have vomited on his shoes to express my embarrassment.
Next: More meat, and the coolest shirt at the festival.
---------------
** I just realized that I neglected to talk about the screening of Shane's KISS KISS BANG BANG, which happened on the previous night, after the meaty meat dinner at The County Line. I'm going to have to jump back in the narrative to talk about that...
...like Robert Downey Jr.'s character does in the movie, which you should go see.
Now.
It's okay; I'll wait.
See, wasn't that the coolest, most gleefully vulgar movie EVER? Don't you want to see it again, like, immediately? I know I do. Let's go.
Okay, now, back to my stor-- Yeah, it was fucking AWESOME, wasn’t it? I'm glad I suggested it to you too. Oh, no, no, you're too kind. Yes, okay, I love you too. Thanks. No, please, I'm married, and, well, also, I don't swing that way. But thanks.
(I had no idea KKBB would have that effect on you. (Well, actually, yeah, I kinda did.))
So, okay. Now, let me revise my "Next:"
[ahem]
Next: The screening of KKBB, and more meat, and the coolest shirt at the festival.
SoCal Film Group | Austin Film Festival | Screenwriting | Digital Filmmaking | Buck Henry |
Steve Barr
