Transitioning from TV writing to features

Earl Pomerantz, in his fine blog you should be reading, has an interesting theory as to why so few TV writers seem to make a successful transition to screenwriters. Since I’ve been lucky enough to have dabbled in both he wondered if I might have any thoughts on the subject.

First off, I don’t disagree with anything he said. So there goes the heated debate right there. Sorry. We’d be terrible panelists on CROSSFIRE.

Earl contends that screenwriting is a different animal, with different requirements and rhythms. (I believe he’s also focusing on sitcom writers.) He gives a great example. Learning badminton then playing tennis. One is all wrist; the other is all arm. (In my case it’s all whiff so the transition was easy.)

If I’m interpreting Earl correctly, he goes on to say that the more you’ve mastered one genre the harder it is to switch to another. He also knocks Seth MacFarlane so again, we are on the same page.

I would just add to Earl’s argument although the business keeps changing so fast that by the time you get to the end of this post it might change again and everything I’ve said is obsolete.

But I believe a major factor is that TV writers have it better in TV and know it.

A little history: Back in my day (the Pleistocene Era), it was extremely hard to jump from sitcoms to features. TV writers were considered second-class citizens. David Isaacs and I wanted to make that jump and movie producers and execs would demand a spec screenplay even though we were the head writers of MASH. If you can write MASH you can probably handle HERBIE GOES TO MONTE CARLO. But they insisted on a spec. And the spec better not be “sitcommy.” (They better not see you using your wrist.) So we did that, wrote a very dark comedy about a Kent State-type student riot and that led to feature work.

But now (or at least two paragraphs ago), there is less of a divide between the TV and feature side. Partly because specs are no longer just writing samples. You can actually sell them. If someone pays you $500,000 for your screenplay you’re officially in the club. Also, TV has risen in stature to where the quality is often better than what you see on the silver screen. Even the differing screen sizes are no longer a factor. People watch way more movies on TV and computer screens than in the local Cineplex. Supergirl is just as large as Superman.

So there’s more acceptance.

But also more frustration. In TV you serve it while it’s hot. In movies everything takes forever. And then generally doesn’t happen. People spend an entire career writing movies that never get made. How exasperating is that?

For as little respect as TV writers get, feature scribes get less. In TV you can rise to the level of showrunner. You can set the creative vision. You make final decisions. In movies it will always be the director and/or producer. Even if you’re Aaron Sorkin (who now is directing).

Here’s the reality of Hollywood screenwriting: You do a lot of pro bono work these days. Movie pitches and rewrite pitches aren’t just an overview of the idea. It’s now the whole movie, outlined in detail with jokes, trailer moments, and even proposals for the poster and slogan. Writers toil for months for free just to get a turn at bat. And if you get an assignment you’re in for years of notes and endless rewrites. Most of these end with your script being taken away from you and rewritten by someone else. Earl mentions how the Charles Brothers only did one feature. That’s because (a) someone rewrote their draft, (b) the director changed things, and (c) they wrote other screenplays that never got made. Once you’ve created CHEERS you don’t need that aggravation. (And by the way, their draft of PUSHING TIN was only 1000% better than what made it to the screen.)

So I think a big reason TV writers don’t transition to films is because it’s a step down (despite the Oscar hype). There is more money, buyers, production, and control in television. And you don’t have to spend two years of your life writing BAD MOMS 7.