Thanks to everyone for finding and reading my blog. Especially those of you in Croatia. My stuff usually doesn't play there. Also thanks for the comments and emails. Keep 'em coming. I've made a lot of new friends and even though my traffic is modest I'm still reaching more people than if I wrote a show for UPN. I look forward to providing more nonsense in the future.
May 2006 be for you what 2005 was for the Chicago White Sox, Mariah Carey, Batman, Apprentice Randall, Johnny Damon, Craig Ferguson, Keith Urban, Spamalot, Hilary Swank, the New England Patriots, Clint Eastwood, Jaimie Foxx, Maroon 5, Cate Blanchett, Felicity Huffman, Lost, Ray Charles, Roy Williams, Morgan Freeman, Everybody Loves Raymond, Jason Lee, Google, Carrie Underwood, Patricia Arguette, John Mayer, the USC Trojans, Kayne West, the 40 Year Old Virgin, Eli Manning, Alicia Keyes, Larry Brown, Survivor Danni Boatwright, Seal, Howard Stern, Naima Mora, Robert Blake, the San Antonio Spurs, Ann Womack, Peter & Lois Griffin, Roger Clemens, Ryan Seacrest, the X Men, the ipod, Paul McCartney, Kelly Monaco, the Wedding Crashers, Giacomo, Dan Wheldon, the basketball Tar Heels, Jack Bauer, and the guy who caught not one but two home run balls in that playoff game at Houston.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!
Ken
Friday, December 30, 2005
Thursday, December 29, 2005
As we head towards the new year....
I bet NEW YEARS ROCKIN' EVE will get HUGE numbers. The curiosity factor on what Dick Clark looks like now has to be through the roof. If you see the American Bandstand set behind him you know he’s green screened.
I don't know, there's something freakish about this. But I guess that's one of the reasons PHANTOM OF THE OPERA is so popular.
Rain is predicted for January 2nd in Pasadena. For whatever reason it never rains on the Rose Parade. Might this be the year? If it does I hope Bob Eubank’s hair dye isn’t the kind that just washes out. Same with Stephanie Edwards’.
If you are from anywhere other than Los Angeles, a New Year's tradition is saying "who is Stephanie Edwards"?
I bet they wouldn’t hassle you at the unemployment office about not trying hard enough to seek work if your profession was parade commentator.
Does every float in the Rose Parade win an award? And all the awards are the same – “best use of animation”, “most creative use of animation”, "Best use of animation for a Texas float", etc.
Next month my gym will be packed. Everyone making their New Years resolutions. By February it will be just us regulars again.
And finally, as a special treat, a word from my daughter, Annie. You’ve met her in travelogues and the acerbic comments she’s posted. She’s my little Dorothy Parker without the suicide attempts. She has a request so I’ll turn over this over to her.
***
Dear Bloggers, Bloggettes and anyone else insane enough to read my father's ranting,
I'm a student at Northwestern and have a radio show on the campus station. It's supposedly been voted the top college station blah blah blah etc etc. (fill in credentials here). I co-host "Breakfast with Broadway" on Saturday Morning, that plays showtunes. (And I wonder why I have so many gay friends). So one week as a theme I was planning on doing the WORST songs in Broadway. i.e. "Turkey Lurkey," (Promises, Promises) "Shapoopy" (Music Man) and well... anything by Andrew Lloyd Webber. If you have any incredibly bizarre suggestions, I would love to hear them. Thank you!
~Annie
P.S. You may NOT suggest a Stephen Sondheim song. Everything he has written is genius, and we will no longer be on speaking terms.
I don't know, there's something freakish about this. But I guess that's one of the reasons PHANTOM OF THE OPERA is so popular.
Rain is predicted for January 2nd in Pasadena. For whatever reason it never rains on the Rose Parade. Might this be the year? If it does I hope Bob Eubank’s hair dye isn’t the kind that just washes out. Same with Stephanie Edwards’.
If you are from anywhere other than Los Angeles, a New Year's tradition is saying "who is Stephanie Edwards"?
I bet they wouldn’t hassle you at the unemployment office about not trying hard enough to seek work if your profession was parade commentator.
Does every float in the Rose Parade win an award? And all the awards are the same – “best use of animation”, “most creative use of animation”, "Best use of animation for a Texas float", etc.
Next month my gym will be packed. Everyone making their New Years resolutions. By February it will be just us regulars again.
And finally, as a special treat, a word from my daughter, Annie. You’ve met her in travelogues and the acerbic comments she’s posted. She’s my little Dorothy Parker without the suicide attempts. She has a request so I’ll turn over this over to her.
***
Dear Bloggers, Bloggettes and anyone else insane enough to read my father's ranting,
I'm a student at Northwestern and have a radio show on the campus station. It's supposedly been voted the top college station blah blah blah etc etc. (fill in credentials here). I co-host "Breakfast with Broadway" on Saturday Morning, that plays showtunes. (And I wonder why I have so many gay friends). So one week as a theme I was planning on doing the WORST songs in Broadway. i.e. "Turkey Lurkey," (Promises, Promises) "Shapoopy" (Music Man) and well... anything by Andrew Lloyd Webber. If you have any incredibly bizarre suggestions, I would love to hear them. Thank you!
~Annie
P.S. You may NOT suggest a Stephen Sondheim song. Everything he has written is genius, and we will no longer be on speaking terms.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Spec Etiquette
I’ve had several people ask me what NOT to do when trying to get someone to read their spec. It’s a case by case basis of course but I’ll just share some of my own personal experiences or things I have witnessed.
I’ve had people give me spec scripts at high school reunions. Not a good idea unless it’s from the person you always had a crush on and they haven’t gained 300 pounds.
A well known comedy director was in temple during High Holiday services one year when a fellow congregant reached inside his tallis and pulled out a spec script. Not kosher.
When I was announcing for the Orioles I once got thrown out of Bobby Valentine’s office for asking tough questions. He was then the manager of the Texas Rangers. Fifteen minutes later I was summoned back, obviously to receive an apology. No. He had heard I was a writer and pitched me a movie. Try not to be an asshole first.
And then there was the time I was in a funeral home with my father making final arrangements for my grandmother who had just passed away. At one point the mortician asked what I did. When my father said I was a writer the ghoul launched into a twenty minute movie pitch. If my dad wasn’t there no one would believe that story. But it’s true. Pick your spots.
What you need to do is first introduce yourself and try to establish a relationship. How intimate is up to you. But here’s my favorite story. Years ago I and another writer, Larry, were asked to speak at a UCLA extension class. I was a story editor on MASH at the time and he was story editor of RHODA. As we stood in front of the class lecturing, a friend overhead one young woman saying to another: “I think I’ll fuck Larry. I’d rather do a RHODA”.
I’ve had people give me spec scripts at high school reunions. Not a good idea unless it’s from the person you always had a crush on and they haven’t gained 300 pounds.
A well known comedy director was in temple during High Holiday services one year when a fellow congregant reached inside his tallis and pulled out a spec script. Not kosher.
When I was announcing for the Orioles I once got thrown out of Bobby Valentine’s office for asking tough questions. He was then the manager of the Texas Rangers. Fifteen minutes later I was summoned back, obviously to receive an apology. No. He had heard I was a writer and pitched me a movie. Try not to be an asshole first.
And then there was the time I was in a funeral home with my father making final arrangements for my grandmother who had just passed away. At one point the mortician asked what I did. When my father said I was a writer the ghoul launched into a twenty minute movie pitch. If my dad wasn’t there no one would believe that story. But it’s true. Pick your spots.
What you need to do is first introduce yourself and try to establish a relationship. How intimate is up to you. But here’s my favorite story. Years ago I and another writer, Larry, were asked to speak at a UCLA extension class. I was a story editor on MASH at the time and he was story editor of RHODA. As we stood in front of the class lecturing, a friend overhead one young woman saying to another: “I think I’ll fuck Larry. I’d rather do a RHODA”.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Random thoughts
Is there anyone the Carver on NIP/TUCK missed? Series regulars, guest stars, extras, crew members who came too close. I hope they didn’t auction off any walk-on parts for charity. When the Carver was finally revealed to be the weird doctor I felt very let down. First of all, how obvious. And secondly, I was praying it would be Joan Rivers.
The Man From U.N.C.L.E. is to James Bond what NIP/TUCK is to Quentin Tarentino.
Next year Sean’s daughter Annie enters the 5th grade and becomes the next Dr. Kivorkian while son Matt learns he’s really Hillary Clinton.
Bring on the SHIELD.
Why do writers have an inferiority complex? In KING KONG the heroric gifted playwright loses out to the ape.
I enjoy HOUSE even though I don’t understand half of what they’re saying. And that's without Hugh Laurie's British accent.
What hospital has glassed in patient rooms? That’s gotta be a treat using a bedpan while people walk by. The good news is you’ve got a private room. The bad news is it’s in Macy’s window.
FAMILY GUY now makes the SIMPSONS look like Willie Mays the last year he was playing for the Mets.
I can’t wait for 24.
I too have been getting coded messages from David Letterman. Whenever he says, “Paul Shaeffer, ladies and gentlemen” what he’s actually saying is “I stopped being really funny when Merrill Markoe left as my head writer”.
I love Christmas TV marathons. Gave me a chance to sip some egg nog and catch up on BEING BONADUCE. Danny is such a tortured self-destructive but bright guy I would love someday to sit down with him and ask with great compassion if Susan Dey really did fuck David Cassidy.
Big article this week in the LA TIMES Calendar section on why the movie industry is in shambles this year. Too bad that everyone it applies to or could benefit from it is out of town in either Hawaii or Aspen.
Howard Stern is a genius. He makes a $500,000,000 deal, abandons the fans that made him so popular, and they come out in the freezing rain to cheer him on his last day. And he did it without Karl Rove.
I hope Deborah Gibson wins the ICE SKATING WITH THE STARS show.
Al Sharpton now says he won’t do a sitcom. America has lost one of its great funnymen. But he is available for the next edition of ICE SKATING WITH THE STARS.
Free Lil’ Kim.
Hey, what about Danny Bonaduce as the Carver? Now that would have scared the shit out of me.
Attention waiters: WRITE IT DOWN!! You do not have to be “off book” on my order.
Unless you’re David Duchovny and you’re married to Tea Leoni, why would ANYBODY go to see FUN WITH DICK AND JANE? And even then, I bet if he just bought her some necklace from Zales he could talk his way out of it.
And finally, I’ve asked this before and I’m serious – how do they make dippindots?
The Man From U.N.C.L.E. is to James Bond what NIP/TUCK is to Quentin Tarentino.
Next year Sean’s daughter Annie enters the 5th grade and becomes the next Dr. Kivorkian while son Matt learns he’s really Hillary Clinton.
Bring on the SHIELD.
Why do writers have an inferiority complex? In KING KONG the heroric gifted playwright loses out to the ape.
I enjoy HOUSE even though I don’t understand half of what they’re saying. And that's without Hugh Laurie's British accent.
What hospital has glassed in patient rooms? That’s gotta be a treat using a bedpan while people walk by. The good news is you’ve got a private room. The bad news is it’s in Macy’s window.
FAMILY GUY now makes the SIMPSONS look like Willie Mays the last year he was playing for the Mets.
I can’t wait for 24.
I too have been getting coded messages from David Letterman. Whenever he says, “Paul Shaeffer, ladies and gentlemen” what he’s actually saying is “I stopped being really funny when Merrill Markoe left as my head writer”.
I love Christmas TV marathons. Gave me a chance to sip some egg nog and catch up on BEING BONADUCE. Danny is such a tortured self-destructive but bright guy I would love someday to sit down with him and ask with great compassion if Susan Dey really did fuck David Cassidy.
Big article this week in the LA TIMES Calendar section on why the movie industry is in shambles this year. Too bad that everyone it applies to or could benefit from it is out of town in either Hawaii or Aspen.
Howard Stern is a genius. He makes a $500,000,000 deal, abandons the fans that made him so popular, and they come out in the freezing rain to cheer him on his last day. And he did it without Karl Rove.
I hope Deborah Gibson wins the ICE SKATING WITH THE STARS show.
Al Sharpton now says he won’t do a sitcom. America has lost one of its great funnymen. But he is available for the next edition of ICE SKATING WITH THE STARS.
Free Lil’ Kim.
Hey, what about Danny Bonaduce as the Carver? Now that would have scared the shit out of me.
Attention waiters: WRITE IT DOWN!! You do not have to be “off book” on my order.
Unless you’re David Duchovny and you’re married to Tea Leoni, why would ANYBODY go to see FUN WITH DICK AND JANE? And even then, I bet if he just bought her some necklace from Zales he could talk his way out of it.
And finally, I’ve asked this before and I’m serious – how do they make dippindots?
Monday, December 26, 2005
Hawaii 2005
Home from Hawaii where even bad news is delivered by newscasters in Aloha shirts. It was a fabulous trip with the usual Levine family foibles.
NEVER take Hawaiian Airlines. In a world a lackadaisical don’t-give-a-shit airline employees Hawaiian is the gold standard. It’s bad enough our luggage didn’t arrive with the flight. Neither did the bags for half the passengers. And this was true of EVERY Hawaiian flight. Seems they sort of put on the bags they want and hold back others. Or put bags on earlier flights and just leave them in the terminal as sort of a fun scavenger hunt. Their motto should be: “Striving to be America West”.
We went back to the Grand Wailea on Maui – picture a combination of the Bellagio and Disney’s Blizzard Beach Water Slide Park.
We have a “Mountain view” room and by “Mountain” they mean the Four Seasons next door. I can now tell you which Endeavor agents sleep late.
Quickly unpacked, leaving a drawer empty for all the coffee packets, soap, conditioners, shampoos, and pens we planned to steal. No sewing kits this year. Those bastards!!
Went to sleep after a long travel day only to discover our room is only two floors right above the Tsunami night club. Is it just me or should they consider a name change? I’d change rooms but where else am I going to hear pidgin hip hop…as it was meant to be heard -- through the floor?
Annie’s was very excited about the GAP Winter Sale. Needless to say there wasn’t a single heavy coat, ski sweater, or scarf they were out of at the Wailea GAP.
Second day there I saw a schmuck wearing a CAA T-shirt. It flashed me back to years ago at the Kahala Hilton when I saw someone else wearing one of those. Remember as a kid you would put a comic book inside a real book so the teacher thought you were reading something worthwhile? In this case, sitting around the pool, this CAA tool was reading a book hidden inside a SCRIPT.
Went to make massage reservations at the spa. Was told they were having a “big promotion”. If you use this brand of massage oil they were hawking that smells like cinnamon and vanilla you get a whole $5.00 off their $155 massage. You’d be an IDIOT not to take advantage of that deal!
I don’t think the University of Nevada (Reno) will be asked back to the Hawaiian Bowl anytime soon. This annual football classic held Christmas Eve at Aloha Stadium (capacity: 50,000) and televised nationally on ESPN is a great source of pride to the islands. Three days before the game here’s how many tickets the University of Nevada (Reno) has purchased: 75.
We wanted to drive around the island but knew that LOST star Michelle Rodriquez was still on the road. 108 is not just the sum total of the “numbers”, it’s her average speed.
How do they make dippindots?
Annie received a fortune that said seek professional help.
One thing I miss: dogs. There is a long quarantine for pets coming over to Hawaii. Concern for the citizens. I say let Fluffy in and keep Michelle Rodriguez locked up for six months.
My neighbor from across the street is here. It’s the only time I’ve seen her in two years.
Went to Spago’s at the Four Season with writer friends Howard & Karen. We let the kids fend for themselves. A half hour into dinner I get a call from Annie. “Hey, Dad, turn around. Look to your left.” My first thought was “what the fuck are they doing at Spago? This is going to cost me a fortune!” My second thought was “where are they?” I told Annie I didn’t see them. She said, “more to your left. We’re waving.” I still couldn’t see them. Now I’m panicking. Jesus, am I going blind? This went on for two more minutes. Finally she said, “We’re at Longhi’s, have a nice dinner”, they laughed and hung up. I love my children but they’re evil.
Saw KING KONG at the Kihei Cineplex. A sign on the door said “shirts and footwear required”. Bad enough the movie was three hours, it started fifteen minutes late. The projectionist was busy manning the concession counter. The “Aloha Spirit” is a nice way of saying “We wish you would go home”.
Went to a new restaurant called “The Place”. It was a twenty-five minute drive (four for Michelle Rodriguez). The bartender and chef are from the Four Seasons’ Spago. So are the pizza recipes. And it’s right next to the Aquarium so you know the fresh fish is FRESH.
Cabana prices have gone up to $200 a day. The most expensive shade in Hawaii. And you can make reservations a year in advance. For only $100 you can reserve cloud cover.
My wife and daughter decided to skip the bike ride to the bottom of the volcano. Instead they went to Costco.
Hard to swim laps in the “adult pool” when there are people standing in the middle of it reading paperbacks. At least they weren’t reading scripts.
Preferred reading material this year: Debby’s shirt. She has a T-shirt filled with stupid quotes our buffoon of a President actually said. Some favorites:
“People say: ‘How can I help on this war against terror? How can I fight evil?’ You can do so by mentoring a child; by going into a shut-in’s house and say – ‘I love you’.
“Natural gas is hemispheric. I like to call it hemispheric because it is a product that we can find in our neighborhoods.”
“We ought to make the pie higher”.
“History?…we don’t know. We’ll all be dead.”
“One of the great things about books is that sometimes there are some fantastic pictures.”
“I’m the master of low expectations”.
And finally….”They misunderestimated me”.
A tourist was bitten by a shark 200 yards from our beach. So all beaches along the immediate coast were closed for a day…except the one that fronts the Four Seasons. Guess they figured with all the Hollywood agents there no shark would ever attack – professional courtesy.
Got in an elevator as a woman was pushing the button. She wore a baseball cap with an “L” on it. I asked what the L stood for and she said “lobby”. Do I really look THAT stupid??
The Aloha Spirit continues: at every Hawaiian airport in addition to the usual TSA inspections (take off your shoes, belt, pull out your computer, remove your pacemaker) they also feature two additional agriculture inspections (one for check-in luggage and one more at the gate for carry on). God forbid a papaya gets into the United States. The terrorists win.
And yes, we saw Santa Claus this year. This time in a golf cart tooling around the Maui airport tarmac. So that’s where he gets all his toys and goodies – from all the Hawaiian Airlines luggage that never arrives to you.
NEVER take Hawaiian Airlines. In a world a lackadaisical don’t-give-a-shit airline employees Hawaiian is the gold standard. It’s bad enough our luggage didn’t arrive with the flight. Neither did the bags for half the passengers. And this was true of EVERY Hawaiian flight. Seems they sort of put on the bags they want and hold back others. Or put bags on earlier flights and just leave them in the terminal as sort of a fun scavenger hunt. Their motto should be: “Striving to be America West”.
We went back to the Grand Wailea on Maui – picture a combination of the Bellagio and Disney’s Blizzard Beach Water Slide Park.
We have a “Mountain view” room and by “Mountain” they mean the Four Seasons next door. I can now tell you which Endeavor agents sleep late.
Quickly unpacked, leaving a drawer empty for all the coffee packets, soap, conditioners, shampoos, and pens we planned to steal. No sewing kits this year. Those bastards!!
Went to sleep after a long travel day only to discover our room is only two floors right above the Tsunami night club. Is it just me or should they consider a name change? I’d change rooms but where else am I going to hear pidgin hip hop…as it was meant to be heard -- through the floor?
Annie’s was very excited about the GAP Winter Sale. Needless to say there wasn’t a single heavy coat, ski sweater, or scarf they were out of at the Wailea GAP.
Second day there I saw a schmuck wearing a CAA T-shirt. It flashed me back to years ago at the Kahala Hilton when I saw someone else wearing one of those. Remember as a kid you would put a comic book inside a real book so the teacher thought you were reading something worthwhile? In this case, sitting around the pool, this CAA tool was reading a book hidden inside a SCRIPT.
Went to make massage reservations at the spa. Was told they were having a “big promotion”. If you use this brand of massage oil they were hawking that smells like cinnamon and vanilla you get a whole $5.00 off their $155 massage. You’d be an IDIOT not to take advantage of that deal!
I don’t think the University of Nevada (Reno) will be asked back to the Hawaiian Bowl anytime soon. This annual football classic held Christmas Eve at Aloha Stadium (capacity: 50,000) and televised nationally on ESPN is a great source of pride to the islands. Three days before the game here’s how many tickets the University of Nevada (Reno) has purchased: 75.
We wanted to drive around the island but knew that LOST star Michelle Rodriquez was still on the road. 108 is not just the sum total of the “numbers”, it’s her average speed.
How do they make dippindots?
Annie received a fortune that said seek professional help.
One thing I miss: dogs. There is a long quarantine for pets coming over to Hawaii. Concern for the citizens. I say let Fluffy in and keep Michelle Rodriguez locked up for six months.
My neighbor from across the street is here. It’s the only time I’ve seen her in two years.
Went to Spago’s at the Four Season with writer friends Howard & Karen. We let the kids fend for themselves. A half hour into dinner I get a call from Annie. “Hey, Dad, turn around. Look to your left.” My first thought was “what the fuck are they doing at Spago? This is going to cost me a fortune!” My second thought was “where are they?” I told Annie I didn’t see them. She said, “more to your left. We’re waving.” I still couldn’t see them. Now I’m panicking. Jesus, am I going blind? This went on for two more minutes. Finally she said, “We’re at Longhi’s, have a nice dinner”, they laughed and hung up. I love my children but they’re evil.
Saw KING KONG at the Kihei Cineplex. A sign on the door said “shirts and footwear required”. Bad enough the movie was three hours, it started fifteen minutes late. The projectionist was busy manning the concession counter. The “Aloha Spirit” is a nice way of saying “We wish you would go home”.
Went to a new restaurant called “The Place”. It was a twenty-five minute drive (four for Michelle Rodriguez). The bartender and chef are from the Four Seasons’ Spago. So are the pizza recipes. And it’s right next to the Aquarium so you know the fresh fish is FRESH.
Cabana prices have gone up to $200 a day. The most expensive shade in Hawaii. And you can make reservations a year in advance. For only $100 you can reserve cloud cover.
My wife and daughter decided to skip the bike ride to the bottom of the volcano. Instead they went to Costco.
Hard to swim laps in the “adult pool” when there are people standing in the middle of it reading paperbacks. At least they weren’t reading scripts.
Preferred reading material this year: Debby’s shirt. She has a T-shirt filled with stupid quotes our buffoon of a President actually said. Some favorites:
“People say: ‘How can I help on this war against terror? How can I fight evil?’ You can do so by mentoring a child; by going into a shut-in’s house and say – ‘I love you’.
“Natural gas is hemispheric. I like to call it hemispheric because it is a product that we can find in our neighborhoods.”
“We ought to make the pie higher”.
“History?…we don’t know. We’ll all be dead.”
“One of the great things about books is that sometimes there are some fantastic pictures.”
“I’m the master of low expectations”.
And finally….”They misunderestimated me”.
A tourist was bitten by a shark 200 yards from our beach. So all beaches along the immediate coast were closed for a day…except the one that fronts the Four Seasons. Guess they figured with all the Hollywood agents there no shark would ever attack – professional courtesy.
Got in an elevator as a woman was pushing the button. She wore a baseball cap with an “L” on it. I asked what the L stood for and she said “lobby”. Do I really look THAT stupid??
The Aloha Spirit continues: at every Hawaiian airport in addition to the usual TSA inspections (take off your shoes, belt, pull out your computer, remove your pacemaker) they also feature two additional agriculture inspections (one for check-in luggage and one more at the gate for carry on). God forbid a papaya gets into the United States. The terrorists win.
And yes, we saw Santa Claus this year. This time in a golf cart tooling around the Maui airport tarmac. So that’s where he gets all his toys and goodies – from all the Hawaiian Airlines luggage that never arrives to you.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Attention Academy Members
Back home in LA. My Hawaiian travelogue to follow very soon.
Meanwhile, it’s GREAT to be in LA this time of year. It’s empty. And if you’re a member of one of the industry guilds or academies you get into movies free. Any movie that hopes to have even a ghost of a chance of getting a nomination participates. Which means every current release except FUN WITH DICK AND JANE.
A few years ago there was an indie film I wanted to see and I had a day off. It was a Wednesday. I checked the paper and saw the only place that had a matinee was the Peppertree Theatre, way the hell up in Van Nuys or Granada Hills somewhere. Having nothing better to do I drove out there. Must’ve taken an hour. The Peppertree was an old Cineplex in a dingy shopping center that time had long since passed by. It's centerpiece might've once been a Montgomery Wards.
I went up to the girl at the boxoffice, told her the movie I wanted to see and handed her my WGA card.
She looked at it and said, “What’s this?” She must’ve been 17 at the most. I explained the deal. This movie was free to WGA members. She knew nothing about it. I said, check with your manager. He wasn’t there yet. I said, check the LA TIMES, under the ad you’ll see a notice listing qualified guilds. She didn’t have a paper. I said there should be a sign-in sheet around. Is there any way to contact the manager? I’m entitled to free admission!
She looked at me with a pained expression and said, “But tickets are only a dollar”.
If there was ever a country of schmucks I would be their king.
Meanwhile, it’s GREAT to be in LA this time of year. It’s empty. And if you’re a member of one of the industry guilds or academies you get into movies free. Any movie that hopes to have even a ghost of a chance of getting a nomination participates. Which means every current release except FUN WITH DICK AND JANE.
A few years ago there was an indie film I wanted to see and I had a day off. It was a Wednesday. I checked the paper and saw the only place that had a matinee was the Peppertree Theatre, way the hell up in Van Nuys or Granada Hills somewhere. Having nothing better to do I drove out there. Must’ve taken an hour. The Peppertree was an old Cineplex in a dingy shopping center that time had long since passed by. It's centerpiece might've once been a Montgomery Wards.
I went up to the girl at the boxoffice, told her the movie I wanted to see and handed her my WGA card.
She looked at it and said, “What’s this?” She must’ve been 17 at the most. I explained the deal. This movie was free to WGA members. She knew nothing about it. I said, check with your manager. He wasn’t there yet. I said, check the LA TIMES, under the ad you’ll see a notice listing qualified guilds. She didn’t have a paper. I said there should be a sign-in sheet around. Is there any way to contact the manager? I’m entitled to free admission!
She looked at me with a pained expression and said, “But tickets are only a dollar”.
If there was ever a country of schmucks I would be their king.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
From all of me to all of you
Merry Christmas!!!
Happy Chanukah!!!
Since Christmas Day is traditionally a time of reruns I invite you to enjoy past posts.
Seasons greetings everyone!!!
Happy Chanukah!!!
Since Christmas Day is traditionally a time of reruns I invite you to enjoy past posts.
Seasons greetings everyone!!!
Friday, December 23, 2005
How about this for your spec?
I just had a thought. A possible way for your spec script to stand out. Do a Christmas episode. In the ten million specs I’ve read over the years I can’t recall a single one that’s holiday themed. And fortunately, since only nine people read this blog, you won’t have to worry about a sudden glut of Christmas specs. It’ll just be you and one other guy and he’s in Australia.
The trick of course is to find a fresh twist on the subject – not an easy task by any means. As a show runner I always dreaded the Christmas episode. What could we do that hasn’t been done so many times the FATHER KNOWS BEST writers were tired of it? The Scrooge rip-off. Wonderful Life rip off. Forgot to get a present. Gift exchanges going awry. Can’t get home for Christmas. Family staying with you for Christmas. Volunteered to help at the homeless shelter but got invited to a swank party. Is that old guy with a beard who urinates on your lawn really Santa Claus? Christmas miracles. Christmas lessons. You know the drill.
But if you can somehow find a variation, your spec might really stand out, and who knows? Show runners may just want to buy it for the story alone.
Anyway, it’s a thought. Along with….
Merry Christmas.
The trick of course is to find a fresh twist on the subject – not an easy task by any means. As a show runner I always dreaded the Christmas episode. What could we do that hasn’t been done so many times the FATHER KNOWS BEST writers were tired of it? The Scrooge rip-off. Wonderful Life rip off. Forgot to get a present. Gift exchanges going awry. Can’t get home for Christmas. Family staying with you for Christmas. Volunteered to help at the homeless shelter but got invited to a swank party. Is that old guy with a beard who urinates on your lawn really Santa Claus? Christmas miracles. Christmas lessons. You know the drill.
But if you can somehow find a variation, your spec might really stand out, and who knows? Show runners may just want to buy it for the story alone.
Anyway, it’s a thought. Along with….
Merry Christmas.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Christmas in Palm Springs
Aloha. It’s travelogue Friday, sharing some of the goofy travelogues I’ve emailed to friends over the years. At the moment I’m in Hawaii composing a new travelogue you’ll receive next week. But here’s where we were last year. Cast of characters: Debby (wife), Matt (22 year old son), Annie (18 year old daughter). You’ll get to know them.
The Levines decided on a mere abbreviated trip this holiday season. A long weekend in Palm Springs. Turns out it was just like Hawaii. All those beautiful sandy beaches…but a much farther walk to the ocean.
We drove down on Christmas Eve. It was my first time on the Sonny Bono Memorial Freeway. Oddly, it was not tree lined.
Passed the new Morongo casino. Matt found it amusing that a casino would have “moron” in its name.
I don’t get the desert. It’s all “Gary Gilmore” country to me. The two big things to do in Palm Springs are play golf or have Sinatra get you laid. So now there’s only one thing.
Easy to tell the locals -- the men wear red polyester pants with white belts and the women dye their hair the color of Huckleberry Hound.
We stayed at a small resort called 7 Springs. We made the reservations on the ORBITZ website. No wonder we got such a good deal. The hotel knew nothing of our reservations. Even with a confirmation number. That number it seems, simply confirms that they have successfully cashed your deposit. Fortunately the hotel had accommodations that would be available in three hours. I asked why so late? The Christmas Party. Housekeeping is shut down until gift exchange. The 7 Springs is a far cry from the 4 Seasons.
And we learned (only upon arrival) that they take pets. And not just little pets either. BIG angry pets. Pets that are not used to being cooped up in hotel rooms. Pets that don’t like the idea of my wife using the pool. Who needs the playful dolphins at the Kahala when you can have surly pit pulls at the 7 Springs?
Matt suggested all guests be issued a tranquilizer gun at check-in.
And as luck would have it we were the only guests that did not bring a pet. You know you’re in trouble when one of the room amenities is a pooper scooper.
Since we had three hours to kill while housekeeping played “Silent Santa” we took a stroll down the main drag, Palm Canyon Blvd. This is the Waikiki of Palm Springs. T-shirt shops, tank shirt shops, wife beater shirt shops. Like Hollywood Blvd they have their “walk of fame” with stars in the sidewalk honoring various Palm Springs celebrities. Stars included Liberace (of course), Sandler & Young, Elke Sommer, Rich Little, Kate Ballard, Victoria Principal, Nancy Sinatra (the only female star who didn’t sleep with Sinatra), “Iron Eyes” Cody, cowboy rope trickster Montie Montana (who once performed at my elementary school), and Cheeta “the Chimp” (no foolin’) listed as star of stage, film, TV. Appropriately, his star was right next to Chevy Chase’s. For those who don’t remember, Cheeta was Tarzan’s sidekick in many films and had a brief affair with Maureen O’Sullivan. One star they featured that does not have a corresponding one on Hollywood Blvd is “Borko B. Djordjevic, M.D.—Plastic Surgeon/Humanitarian”. Annie quipped: “Boy, people must’ve been really ugly to have made him a humanitarian.”
Like Sinatra, Bob Hope, and President Eisenhower Cheeta had a compound out here. Actually he’s still there. At 71, Cheeta is the oldest living chimp in captivity. I bet he looks great in red pants with a white belt and still pines for Maureen O’Sullivan.
There are fifteen Thai restaurants on Palm Canyon Dr. Why??? Considering the mean age of the local population is 106 I can’t imagine there’s that much demand.
On the other hand, the local “Follies” show does make sense. It’s a big review of music from the 30’s and 40’s performed by people who are 57-87. Matt was a little creeped out by their poster that labeled the show “sexy”. Appearing with the Follies until New Years Eve is Buddy Greco. If Bobby Darin had lived I’m sure that would’ve been his gig. We’ll know next year if Kevin Spacey is the headliner. We didn’t go only because it was dark for the Christmas weekend.
In Hawaii a big problem is always trying to find a restaurant open on Christmas Eve. No such worries in Palm Springs. I guess because they get JEWS here, but we had no problem getting into the LG Steakhouse on Palm Canyon, conveniently located near the “Crazy Shirt” emporium. On Christmas night we hit the “Great Wall” Chinese restaurant and saw the same Jews we saw the night before at the LG Steakhouse and earlier that day at Sherman’s Deli.
Surprisingly, Sherman’s is quite good. It has to be judging by the autographed celebrity pictures proudly displayed. Kay Ballard, Keely Smith, and Sandler & Young. I guess Cheeta was less enamored with his meal.
We put our “Do Not Bark” sign out and went to sleep. The beds were quite comfy. It was a relief that 7 Springs did not refer to the mattress.
Going through the local paper I noticed there were more ads for dermatologists than “after Christmas sales”.
I’m sure if we were at a larger resort we could’ve seen Santa ride in on a moped.
Or gotten maid service. No maid service at the 7 Springs on Christmas. And their complimentary “continental” breakfast consisted of packaged vending machine pastries and kibble.
There is a Trump 29 casino nearby. Who knew Donald Trump was an Indian?
Jacuzzi capacity at the 7 Springs: 8 people, 6 pets.
I wonder if Sinatra ever got Cheeta laid.
The Art Museum featured selections from the William Holden collection. Probably whiskey bottles from around the world.
The first two days were clear and cold (but a “dry” cold).
On Sunday Debby and Annie invaded the outlets at Cabazon (a stunt they wouldn’t even subject contestants to on “Fear Factor”). Matt and I checked out the Spa Casino. It made me long for the now defunct Debbie Reynolds hotel and casino in Laughlin, Nevada. (I always imagined Debbie getting an urgent page, “Come quick, Ms. Reynolds, the toilet in 604 is overflowing”.) A Palm Springs casino means 90% slot machines, maybe fifteen gaming tables, no craps, no sportsbook, video roulette, and aisles wide enough for walkers. But no pets!
In a pathetic attempt to recreate Hawaii we went to dinner at Roy’s in Rancho Mirage. Rancho Mirage is much classier than Palm Springs. As you drive there on Highway 111 the car dealerships get more upscale.
All foibles aside, it was great for the family to get together as one even for a few days. (Damn these kids for having their own lives!) Next year Hawaii or the Debbie Reynolds hotel in Laughlin, it really doesn’t matter.
Ken Levine
Stage/Film/TV/Humanitarian
The Levines decided on a mere abbreviated trip this holiday season. A long weekend in Palm Springs. Turns out it was just like Hawaii. All those beautiful sandy beaches…but a much farther walk to the ocean.
We drove down on Christmas Eve. It was my first time on the Sonny Bono Memorial Freeway. Oddly, it was not tree lined.
Passed the new Morongo casino. Matt found it amusing that a casino would have “moron” in its name.
I don’t get the desert. It’s all “Gary Gilmore” country to me. The two big things to do in Palm Springs are play golf or have Sinatra get you laid. So now there’s only one thing.
Easy to tell the locals -- the men wear red polyester pants with white belts and the women dye their hair the color of Huckleberry Hound.
We stayed at a small resort called 7 Springs. We made the reservations on the ORBITZ website. No wonder we got such a good deal. The hotel knew nothing of our reservations. Even with a confirmation number. That number it seems, simply confirms that they have successfully cashed your deposit. Fortunately the hotel had accommodations that would be available in three hours. I asked why so late? The Christmas Party. Housekeeping is shut down until gift exchange. The 7 Springs is a far cry from the 4 Seasons.
And we learned (only upon arrival) that they take pets. And not just little pets either. BIG angry pets. Pets that are not used to being cooped up in hotel rooms. Pets that don’t like the idea of my wife using the pool. Who needs the playful dolphins at the Kahala when you can have surly pit pulls at the 7 Springs?
Matt suggested all guests be issued a tranquilizer gun at check-in.
And as luck would have it we were the only guests that did not bring a pet. You know you’re in trouble when one of the room amenities is a pooper scooper.
Since we had three hours to kill while housekeeping played “Silent Santa” we took a stroll down the main drag, Palm Canyon Blvd. This is the Waikiki of Palm Springs. T-shirt shops, tank shirt shops, wife beater shirt shops. Like Hollywood Blvd they have their “walk of fame” with stars in the sidewalk honoring various Palm Springs celebrities. Stars included Liberace (of course), Sandler & Young, Elke Sommer, Rich Little, Kate Ballard, Victoria Principal, Nancy Sinatra (the only female star who didn’t sleep with Sinatra), “Iron Eyes” Cody, cowboy rope trickster Montie Montana (who once performed at my elementary school), and Cheeta “the Chimp” (no foolin’) listed as star of stage, film, TV. Appropriately, his star was right next to Chevy Chase’s. For those who don’t remember, Cheeta was Tarzan’s sidekick in many films and had a brief affair with Maureen O’Sullivan. One star they featured that does not have a corresponding one on Hollywood Blvd is “Borko B. Djordjevic, M.D.—Plastic Surgeon/Humanitarian”. Annie quipped: “Boy, people must’ve been really ugly to have made him a humanitarian.”
Like Sinatra, Bob Hope, and President Eisenhower Cheeta had a compound out here. Actually he’s still there. At 71, Cheeta is the oldest living chimp in captivity. I bet he looks great in red pants with a white belt and still pines for Maureen O’Sullivan.
There are fifteen Thai restaurants on Palm Canyon Dr. Why??? Considering the mean age of the local population is 106 I can’t imagine there’s that much demand.
On the other hand, the local “Follies” show does make sense. It’s a big review of music from the 30’s and 40’s performed by people who are 57-87. Matt was a little creeped out by their poster that labeled the show “sexy”. Appearing with the Follies until New Years Eve is Buddy Greco. If Bobby Darin had lived I’m sure that would’ve been his gig. We’ll know next year if Kevin Spacey is the headliner. We didn’t go only because it was dark for the Christmas weekend.
In Hawaii a big problem is always trying to find a restaurant open on Christmas Eve. No such worries in Palm Springs. I guess because they get JEWS here, but we had no problem getting into the LG Steakhouse on Palm Canyon, conveniently located near the “Crazy Shirt” emporium. On Christmas night we hit the “Great Wall” Chinese restaurant and saw the same Jews we saw the night before at the LG Steakhouse and earlier that day at Sherman’s Deli.
Surprisingly, Sherman’s is quite good. It has to be judging by the autographed celebrity pictures proudly displayed. Kay Ballard, Keely Smith, and Sandler & Young. I guess Cheeta was less enamored with his meal.
We put our “Do Not Bark” sign out and went to sleep. The beds were quite comfy. It was a relief that 7 Springs did not refer to the mattress.
Going through the local paper I noticed there were more ads for dermatologists than “after Christmas sales”.
I’m sure if we were at a larger resort we could’ve seen Santa ride in on a moped.
Or gotten maid service. No maid service at the 7 Springs on Christmas. And their complimentary “continental” breakfast consisted of packaged vending machine pastries and kibble.
There is a Trump 29 casino nearby. Who knew Donald Trump was an Indian?
Jacuzzi capacity at the 7 Springs: 8 people, 6 pets.
I wonder if Sinatra ever got Cheeta laid.
The Art Museum featured selections from the William Holden collection. Probably whiskey bottles from around the world.
The first two days were clear and cold (but a “dry” cold).
On Sunday Debby and Annie invaded the outlets at Cabazon (a stunt they wouldn’t even subject contestants to on “Fear Factor”). Matt and I checked out the Spa Casino. It made me long for the now defunct Debbie Reynolds hotel and casino in Laughlin, Nevada. (I always imagined Debbie getting an urgent page, “Come quick, Ms. Reynolds, the toilet in 604 is overflowing”.) A Palm Springs casino means 90% slot machines, maybe fifteen gaming tables, no craps, no sportsbook, video roulette, and aisles wide enough for walkers. But no pets!
In a pathetic attempt to recreate Hawaii we went to dinner at Roy’s in Rancho Mirage. Rancho Mirage is much classier than Palm Springs. As you drive there on Highway 111 the car dealerships get more upscale.
All foibles aside, it was great for the family to get together as one even for a few days. (Damn these kids for having their own lives!) Next year Hawaii or the Debbie Reynolds hotel in Laughlin, it really doesn’t matter.
Ken Levine
Stage/Film/TV/Humanitarian
A touching Christmas story
One of the many reasons I became a writer is that I got tired of being fired as a disc jockey. Today marks the anniversary of the last time I signed off my show with “see you tomorrow” and was never heard from again.
1974, I’m Beaver Cleaver on KSEA, San Diego, playing “The Night Chicago Died” and “Billy Don’t Be a Hero” five times a night and seriously considering blowing my brains out. Yes, I know – why “Beaver Cleaver”? Ken Levine sounded too Jewish. (Reelradio.com has some of my embarrassing airchecks. Check my links section.)
The fall rating book came out, the numbers were not good, and at 3:00 I was told to hurry down to the station for an all-important staff meeting at 4:00. We all assembled and were told the station had decided to change formats to gospel and we were all being let go. “Even me?” I said in mock amazement. “Especially you.” “But I could change my name to Eldridge Cleaver.” “I’m going to need your station key”.
Quick aside: a year earlier at KMEN San Bernardino they wanted to get rid of me by moving me from the evening shift to the all-night show. The cheap bastards were hoping I’d quit so they wouldn’t have to pay severance (maybe $300 at most) and be on the hook for unemployment insurance. I asked the program director to at least do the humane thing and fire my sorry ass. “Nope”, he said, “Starting tonight you’re midnight to six.” So I stopped off at the local record store, picked up an LP, and dutifully reported on time for my shift.
Like KSEA, we were a high energy Top 40 station. (Our program director was in love with WLS whose slogan was “the Rock of Chicago” so we became the much catchier “Rock of the Inland Empire”.) I signed on and started playing the hits. Then at 12:30 segued smartly into FIDDLER ON THE ROOF….in Yiddish. The entire album. I was fired during “Anatefka”.
Back to the KSEA staff meeting -- Our morning man, Natural Neil asked when this format change was taking place. A month? A week? The program director looked at his watch and said “45 minutes”. And with that we were all canned. KSEA was gone…along with the promotion we were running at the time --
“Christmas the way it was meant to be!”
1974, I’m Beaver Cleaver on KSEA, San Diego, playing “The Night Chicago Died” and “Billy Don’t Be a Hero” five times a night and seriously considering blowing my brains out. Yes, I know – why “Beaver Cleaver”? Ken Levine sounded too Jewish. (Reelradio.com has some of my embarrassing airchecks. Check my links section.)
The fall rating book came out, the numbers were not good, and at 3:00 I was told to hurry down to the station for an all-important staff meeting at 4:00. We all assembled and were told the station had decided to change formats to gospel and we were all being let go. “Even me?” I said in mock amazement. “Especially you.” “But I could change my name to Eldridge Cleaver.” “I’m going to need your station key”.
Quick aside: a year earlier at KMEN San Bernardino they wanted to get rid of me by moving me from the evening shift to the all-night show. The cheap bastards were hoping I’d quit so they wouldn’t have to pay severance (maybe $300 at most) and be on the hook for unemployment insurance. I asked the program director to at least do the humane thing and fire my sorry ass. “Nope”, he said, “Starting tonight you’re midnight to six.” So I stopped off at the local record store, picked up an LP, and dutifully reported on time for my shift.
Like KSEA, we were a high energy Top 40 station. (Our program director was in love with WLS whose slogan was “the Rock of Chicago” so we became the much catchier “Rock of the Inland Empire”.) I signed on and started playing the hits. Then at 12:30 segued smartly into FIDDLER ON THE ROOF….in Yiddish. The entire album. I was fired during “Anatefka”.
Back to the KSEA staff meeting -- Our morning man, Natural Neil asked when this format change was taking place. A month? A week? The program director looked at his watch and said “45 minutes”. And with that we were all canned. KSEA was gone…along with the promotion we were running at the time --
“Christmas the way it was meant to be!”
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Getting your spec read
Now that you’ve finished your bulletproof spec, how do you get someone to read it? Not easy. But here are some suggestions (while you’re also writing your next spec which will be even more bulletproof):
Be resourceful not obnoxious.
The WGA has a list of agencies. Some will read new material. Get this list and send your script to EVERY agency that remotely is willing to read it.
Managers are “in” these days too. Not sure if there’s a list of reputable ones but contact any manager that will read your script without asking you to take off your clothes.
Beyond that, it’s luck and networking. If you have a friend of a friend whose second cousin is a proctologist who once removed a story editor’s hemorrhoid, contact him and send him a pillow.
Learn who the story editors, staff writers, and producers are of each show. Write letters to a few, schmoozing. Look up their credits on imdb. Ignore if it says they were Location Manager on DANTE’S PEAK. Lower level writers tend not to receive many fan letters. Establish relationships.
Utilize college connections. Make up college connections. The same applies for summer camp, fraternities, sororities, military service, prison terms.
I wish I had the time to read your scripts myself but unfortunately I don’t. Sorry about that.
It helps if you’re in LA. Get tickets to see filmings of multi-camera shows. The writing staff is always on the floor and always introduced. Go to the rail and introduce yourself. Again, it helps to do your homework on just who these writers are. And don’t bother them when Debra Messing is having a meltdown.
Be persistent not an noodge.
If you can become a P.A. for a show, that’s great. A writers assistant – even better. Anything to get your foot in the door.
Take UCLA or USC extension classes. The teachers are all pros. One of them might be your way in. Working writers guest lecture. Find out who and when and where and be there.
Be dogged not insufferable.
Go to Westside gyms. Agents are low hanging fruit in those places.
Always keep a copy of your script in your car. You never know when you’re going to meet somebody who can help you.
And finally, there’s the obvious but I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s like the old joke: Did you hear about the Polish actress who tried to get ahead by fucking writers?
Here’s how David and I were discovered. My mother played golf one day with a story editor of the JEFFERSONS. She told him her son was a writer and he graciously said have him contact me and send a script. I did, he responded to it, invited us in to pitch, we sold a story, and the rest, as they say, is profit.
No two writers I know broke in the same way, but they all wrote specs and they all somehow got them read. Best of luck to you...and your mom.
Be resourceful not obnoxious.
The WGA has a list of agencies. Some will read new material. Get this list and send your script to EVERY agency that remotely is willing to read it.
Managers are “in” these days too. Not sure if there’s a list of reputable ones but contact any manager that will read your script without asking you to take off your clothes.
Beyond that, it’s luck and networking. If you have a friend of a friend whose second cousin is a proctologist who once removed a story editor’s hemorrhoid, contact him and send him a pillow.
Learn who the story editors, staff writers, and producers are of each show. Write letters to a few, schmoozing. Look up their credits on imdb. Ignore if it says they were Location Manager on DANTE’S PEAK. Lower level writers tend not to receive many fan letters. Establish relationships.
Utilize college connections. Make up college connections. The same applies for summer camp, fraternities, sororities, military service, prison terms.
I wish I had the time to read your scripts myself but unfortunately I don’t. Sorry about that.
It helps if you’re in LA. Get tickets to see filmings of multi-camera shows. The writing staff is always on the floor and always introduced. Go to the rail and introduce yourself. Again, it helps to do your homework on just who these writers are. And don’t bother them when Debra Messing is having a meltdown.
Be persistent not an noodge.
If you can become a P.A. for a show, that’s great. A writers assistant – even better. Anything to get your foot in the door.
Take UCLA or USC extension classes. The teachers are all pros. One of them might be your way in. Working writers guest lecture. Find out who and when and where and be there.
Be dogged not insufferable.
Go to Westside gyms. Agents are low hanging fruit in those places.
Always keep a copy of your script in your car. You never know when you’re going to meet somebody who can help you.
And finally, there’s the obvious but I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s like the old joke: Did you hear about the Polish actress who tried to get ahead by fucking writers?
Here’s how David and I were discovered. My mother played golf one day with a story editor of the JEFFERSONS. She told him her son was a writer and he graciously said have him contact me and send a script. I did, he responded to it, invited us in to pitch, we sold a story, and the rest, as they say, is profit.
No two writers I know broke in the same way, but they all wrote specs and they all somehow got them read. Best of luck to you...and your mom.
Monday, December 19, 2005
King Long
Saw KING KONG last night. On television it will be called SURVIVOR: SKULL ISLAND.
Warning: plot points you already know from the original are revealed.
I was so geeked to see it based on the trailer, reviews, and guarantee that Celine Dion did not sing the title song.
What movie did the reviewers see? It was at least an hour too long. The first hour. Wait for the DVD, skip to “they arrive” and start there, keeping your finger on the ff button at all times. Trust me, by the giant insects you’ll be pressing it as if it were a morphine drip.
We were told this was Peter Jackson’s homage to movies. We weren’t told it was his homage to all of them.
Some of the special effects were excellent. Others looked like PEE WEE’S BIG ADVENTURE.
The gorilla had more expressions than Jack Black.
Naomi Watts was good in a very thankless role. A beautiful blonde always in peril, tossed around like a rag doll for two hours – it was like O.J.’s ultimate masturbatory dream.
Great dialogue: “It was beauty that killed the beast”.
The big finale sequence takes place in New York on a snowy night. Kong is on Broadway. Ethel Merman will doubtless step in when the show goes on tour. Kong breaks free, kills many theatre goers (since it was opening night we can only hope he whacked a few critics), and storms out into Times Square. Naomi Watts appears, fortifying herself against the bitter cold with a sheer white gown and heels. Okay, I buy that because in moments she’s wrapped in the world’s biggest fur. From there it’s on to the Empire State building where fortunately Tom Hanks is not rendezvousing with Meg Ryan. The planes come, he dies, and you think “three fucking hours for THIS??” At least let him fight Godzilla or Rocky Balboa.
Wait for cable. Or ipod.
And please, I pray that Ang Lee’s favorite movie growing up wasn’t MIGHT JOE YOUNG.
Warning: plot points you already know from the original are revealed.
I was so geeked to see it based on the trailer, reviews, and guarantee that Celine Dion did not sing the title song.
What movie did the reviewers see? It was at least an hour too long. The first hour. Wait for the DVD, skip to “they arrive” and start there, keeping your finger on the ff button at all times. Trust me, by the giant insects you’ll be pressing it as if it were a morphine drip.
We were told this was Peter Jackson’s homage to movies. We weren’t told it was his homage to all of them.
Some of the special effects were excellent. Others looked like PEE WEE’S BIG ADVENTURE.
The gorilla had more expressions than Jack Black.
Naomi Watts was good in a very thankless role. A beautiful blonde always in peril, tossed around like a rag doll for two hours – it was like O.J.’s ultimate masturbatory dream.
Great dialogue: “It was beauty that killed the beast”.
The big finale sequence takes place in New York on a snowy night. Kong is on Broadway. Ethel Merman will doubtless step in when the show goes on tour. Kong breaks free, kills many theatre goers (since it was opening night we can only hope he whacked a few critics), and storms out into Times Square. Naomi Watts appears, fortifying herself against the bitter cold with a sheer white gown and heels. Okay, I buy that because in moments she’s wrapped in the world’s biggest fur. From there it’s on to the Empire State building where fortunately Tom Hanks is not rendezvousing with Meg Ryan. The planes come, he dies, and you think “three fucking hours for THIS??” At least let him fight Godzilla or Rocky Balboa.
Wait for cable. Or ipod.
And please, I pray that Ang Lee’s favorite movie growing up wasn’t MIGHT JOE YOUNG.
My tele-PLAY
Aloha again. If you send me email I always try to respond. However, here in Hawaii I'm having a devil of a time reaching anyone on AOL. Doesn't the "A" stand for America? Anyway, I'll get to you. Promise.
After having gone to New York three times to get shows either on the air or renewed during the Upfronts process I thought “this is INSANITY and there’s a play in this”. So I wrote UPFRONTS AND PERSONAL. It follows one studio’s attempt to get two shows on a network’s fall schedule. I had a reading of the play last summer in LA with Jason Alexander, Wendie Malick, Ed Asner, Kurtwood Smith, Jennifer Tilly, Patrick Breen, and Matt Letscher and it went very well. I’m currently looking for backers (hint hint). Thought you might enjoy a preview and glimpse of what that process is really like.
The set up: A hotel suite a studio is using as its war room. Very early in the play. Donald is the studio president (Ed Asner), Andy his officious veep (Patrick Breen). Matthew has just arrived (Matt Letscher). He’s the young wide-eyed neophyte writer. Later Gary and Beth will enter. (Jason Alexander & Wendie Malick). They’ve been through the wars.
MATTHEW
Hey, let me ask you -- why do they call this process the "Up Fronts"?
DONALD
The networks announce their new Fall schedules then the advertisers buy commercial time "up front". Spending billions on nothing more that blind faith. It's like if you put an Off-track betting window in a mental institution.
MATTHEW
Well, I appreciate your letting me do this.
DONALD
Hey, you made a helluva pilot. You should be here to defend it. Take a fruit basket. Take four of 'em.
MATTHEW
Thanks.
(crossing to the window)
So...let's check out the view.
(he sees it, disappointed)
Oh.
ANDY
We usually have a higher suite but apparently Queen Latifa is in town and she has dogs, and the dogs need to see the sky for some reason we haven't been told so...well, here we are.
DONALD
Feel free to take a dump on the carpet. Fuck 'em.
MATTHEW
Well, there's always the Empire State Building.
ANDY
First time in New York?
MATTHEW
Are you kidding? Never been out of So-Cal. This is totally unreal. Three years ago I'm working at Kinkos writing scripts at night. And now here I am with my own TV show.
(DONALD takes a big gulp of HIS drink. There's a KNOCK at the door. As ANDY crosses to answer:)
ANDY
Come on. It's refreshing. You know what happens to writers after a couple of years.
(ANDY opens the door. GARY NOGLE and BETH HELLER enter. Both are in their 40's. GARY is wiry, always a little revved. BETH is taller than GARY, attractive, bright, and seemingly very much in command. GARY is schlepping a large heavy garment bag.)
GARY
I mean it, Beth. I can't do this anymore. I walked by that idiot in front of the hotel, y'know, the one wearing the big Beefeaters costume and I thought to myself: "Oh my God, I envy that man. I wish I had his job." A Beefeater, Beth! With the hat, and the stick, and the little tights, and...that's when you know it's time to get out.
BETH
So why did you come?
GARY
Why do you think? I had to. If we're going to get our damn show renewed they've got to see I'm committed to the fucking thing one hundred percent.
DONALD
That's what you want -- Talented and trapped.
After having gone to New York three times to get shows either on the air or renewed during the Upfronts process I thought “this is INSANITY and there’s a play in this”. So I wrote UPFRONTS AND PERSONAL. It follows one studio’s attempt to get two shows on a network’s fall schedule. I had a reading of the play last summer in LA with Jason Alexander, Wendie Malick, Ed Asner, Kurtwood Smith, Jennifer Tilly, Patrick Breen, and Matt Letscher and it went very well. I’m currently looking for backers (hint hint). Thought you might enjoy a preview and glimpse of what that process is really like.
The set up: A hotel suite a studio is using as its war room. Very early in the play. Donald is the studio president (Ed Asner), Andy his officious veep (Patrick Breen). Matthew has just arrived (Matt Letscher). He’s the young wide-eyed neophyte writer. Later Gary and Beth will enter. (Jason Alexander & Wendie Malick). They’ve been through the wars.
MATTHEW
Hey, let me ask you -- why do they call this process the "Up Fronts"?
DONALD
The networks announce their new Fall schedules then the advertisers buy commercial time "up front". Spending billions on nothing more that blind faith. It's like if you put an Off-track betting window in a mental institution.
MATTHEW
Well, I appreciate your letting me do this.
DONALD
Hey, you made a helluva pilot. You should be here to defend it. Take a fruit basket. Take four of 'em.
MATTHEW
Thanks.
(crossing to the window)
So...let's check out the view.
(he sees it, disappointed)
Oh.
ANDY
We usually have a higher suite but apparently Queen Latifa is in town and she has dogs, and the dogs need to see the sky for some reason we haven't been told so...well, here we are.
DONALD
Feel free to take a dump on the carpet. Fuck 'em.
MATTHEW
Well, there's always the Empire State Building.
ANDY
First time in New York?
MATTHEW
Are you kidding? Never been out of So-Cal. This is totally unreal. Three years ago I'm working at Kinkos writing scripts at night. And now here I am with my own TV show.
(DONALD takes a big gulp of HIS drink. There's a KNOCK at the door. As ANDY crosses to answer:)
ANDY
Come on. It's refreshing. You know what happens to writers after a couple of years.
(ANDY opens the door. GARY NOGLE and BETH HELLER enter. Both are in their 40's. GARY is wiry, always a little revved. BETH is taller than GARY, attractive, bright, and seemingly very much in command. GARY is schlepping a large heavy garment bag.)
GARY
I mean it, Beth. I can't do this anymore. I walked by that idiot in front of the hotel, y'know, the one wearing the big Beefeaters costume and I thought to myself: "Oh my God, I envy that man. I wish I had his job." A Beefeater, Beth! With the hat, and the stick, and the little tights, and...that's when you know it's time to get out.
BETH
So why did you come?
GARY
Why do you think? I had to. If we're going to get our damn show renewed they've got to see I'm committed to the fucking thing one hundred percent.
DONALD
That's what you want -- Talented and trapped.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
You're only as good as your worst credit
Hello from Hawaii.
According to imdb.com I was the location manager on DANTE’S PEAK. This is news to me. I didn’t even see DANTE’S PEAK. Yet imdb has it listed and my agent is still pressing me for his commission. Nor was I the Environmental Production Advisor on FLIPPER although I was brought in to punch up his dialogue, and I was not the Location Manager on JURASSIC PARK even though I still write off Hawaiian trips and use Spielberg as a reference. I don’t know where imdb gets this information (I suspect my mother) but I’ve tried several times to get them to correct it but they won’t. So now when I get calls from other Location Managers (which I do) I just recommend our backyard for whatever they need. I’ve made a tidy sum on production rentals.
Worse are some credits they list that ARE true. How many directing assignments have I missed out on because potential employers saw I did multiple episodes of ASK HARRIET? Someone once said you’re only as good as your worst credit. We have shared credit on MANNEQUIN 2 for godsakes!
And then there are the credits imdb omitted that I am proud of. David and I created and produced a show on CBS in ’93 called BIG WAVE DAVE’S starring Adam Arkin. (Cancelled because they had to make room for the Faye Dunaway comedy and the Peter Scolari comedy. No, I’m not bitter). We wrote on the TRACEY ULLMAN SHOW, the TORTELLIS (okay, they were kind to skip that one), and we wrote and “guest starred” in an episode of OPEN ALL NIGHT. Notable because after that we never “guest starred” again.
OPEN ALL NIGHT was created by Tom Patchett & Jay Tarses (who did the BOB NEWHART SHOW and BUFFALO BILL). They asked us to write an episode. We saw that Jay was also going to be one of the series regulars so we asked if we could be in the show. They said, “Sure, what do we care?” So we wrote ourselves two fabulous parts. We were Sean & Evan, two swinging lawyers trying to pick up female mud wrestlers at a mace class. Tom & Jay didn’t change a word of our dialogue. All they did was add one little sentence in the stage direction:
THE WOMEN GET TIRED OF THESE GUYS AND FLIP THEM OVER THEIR SHOULDERS.
For the entire week of production we were getting thrown around all over the stage. Landing on our backs, landing on our heads. We were black and blue with multiple concussions. I still have a bruise. Finally, after the dress rehearsal just before the filming, Jay came to us and said, “Uh listen boys, we’re going to cut the stunt”.
Not only do I want to see that credit on imdb, I want it listed first.
Tomorrow: my play about television with an excerpt. Aloha.
According to imdb.com I was the location manager on DANTE’S PEAK. This is news to me. I didn’t even see DANTE’S PEAK. Yet imdb has it listed and my agent is still pressing me for his commission. Nor was I the Environmental Production Advisor on FLIPPER although I was brought in to punch up his dialogue, and I was not the Location Manager on JURASSIC PARK even though I still write off Hawaiian trips and use Spielberg as a reference. I don’t know where imdb gets this information (I suspect my mother) but I’ve tried several times to get them to correct it but they won’t. So now when I get calls from other Location Managers (which I do) I just recommend our backyard for whatever they need. I’ve made a tidy sum on production rentals.
Worse are some credits they list that ARE true. How many directing assignments have I missed out on because potential employers saw I did multiple episodes of ASK HARRIET? Someone once said you’re only as good as your worst credit. We have shared credit on MANNEQUIN 2 for godsakes!
And then there are the credits imdb omitted that I am proud of. David and I created and produced a show on CBS in ’93 called BIG WAVE DAVE’S starring Adam Arkin. (Cancelled because they had to make room for the Faye Dunaway comedy and the Peter Scolari comedy. No, I’m not bitter). We wrote on the TRACEY ULLMAN SHOW, the TORTELLIS (okay, they were kind to skip that one), and we wrote and “guest starred” in an episode of OPEN ALL NIGHT. Notable because after that we never “guest starred” again.
OPEN ALL NIGHT was created by Tom Patchett & Jay Tarses (who did the BOB NEWHART SHOW and BUFFALO BILL). They asked us to write an episode. We saw that Jay was also going to be one of the series regulars so we asked if we could be in the show. They said, “Sure, what do we care?” So we wrote ourselves two fabulous parts. We were Sean & Evan, two swinging lawyers trying to pick up female mud wrestlers at a mace class. Tom & Jay didn’t change a word of our dialogue. All they did was add one little sentence in the stage direction:
THE WOMEN GET TIRED OF THESE GUYS AND FLIP THEM OVER THEIR SHOULDERS.
For the entire week of production we were getting thrown around all over the stage. Landing on our backs, landing on our heads. We were black and blue with multiple concussions. I still have a bruise. Finally, after the dress rehearsal just before the filming, Jay came to us and said, “Uh listen boys, we’re going to cut the stunt”.
Not only do I want to see that credit on imdb, I want it listed first.
Tomorrow: my play about television with an excerpt. Aloha.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Your chances of becoming a writer
Whenever I teach a writing class I always start by saying "there are (let's say) thirty in the class. Two of you will make it." If you hear that and go "Jesus, those are terrible odds. How am I gonna compete with that?" you're dead. However, if you say "Hmmm? Me and who else?" then read on. You've got a chance. And here's the good news: Those odds just went from 15-1 to 3-1.
You have to believe in yourself first if you ever expect anyone else to.
More good news: If you are good you will be recognized. It may take some time but it will happen. Remember, readers WANT to like your script. They're BEGGING to like your script. But the key is to stick with it. Don't rely on one spec. Often times I'll meet young writers who will say "I wrote a great FRIENDS four years ago and can't get an agent." L-O-S-E-R-S. It might take five specs, it might take ten. But all you need is one person somewhere who sparks to your material. And once you're in you're in.
In future posts I'll be giving tips on what I look for in a spec. In the meantime, start writing. You're already beating the odds.
You have to believe in yourself first if you ever expect anyone else to.
More good news: If you are good you will be recognized. It may take some time but it will happen. Remember, readers WANT to like your script. They're BEGGING to like your script. But the key is to stick with it. Don't rely on one spec. Often times I'll meet young writers who will say "I wrote a great FRIENDS four years ago and can't get an agent." L-O-S-E-R-S. It might take five specs, it might take ten. But all you need is one person somewhere who sparks to your material. And once you're in you're in.
In future posts I'll be giving tips on what I look for in a spec. In the meantime, start writing. You're already beating the odds.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Aloha Oy
It's become a tradition -- now in its second week -- Friday travelogues...reliving the travel adventures of the Levines which up until now have been reserved for my emailing list and my delusional hope of becoming a book. Since we're heading to Hawaii today I thought I'd share a past Hawaiian vacation from a couple of years ago.
Note one: Internet access providing I will continue to post. And note two: cast of characters -- Debby (wife), Matt (early 20's), and Annie (late teens). Mahalo for reading.
Aloha and howzit?
After a year's interruption (to rid ourselves of mold and my life savings) the Levines returned again to Hawaii. This year to the Grand Wailea on Maui. Picture Heart's Castle with water slides and a grotto bar. As usual it was glorious. NFL games start at 8 in the morning over there!!!
Paris and Nicky Hilton were staying at our hotel. I guess among the many amenities the Grand Wailea offers is a meth lab. (Sure an improvement over Fiona Apple at the Kahala. We got the better anoerexics.) The Four Seasons next door usually has the big Hollywood crowd. Maybe they didn't want Paris. After all, she did make that infamous sex tape...and worse, she has a show on Fox.
Our room was 6091 which was easy to remember because every time we went down for a couple of smoothies the bill was $60.91.
Their signature restaurant is Humahumanukunukuapua's (actual name). But people call is Humahumanhukunu's for short. Lobster was $59 a pound (again, this is true). They should change the name to Hubrishubrishubrishubrischutzpah.
I forgot to ask Paris how much Maui Wowie was these days.
Cabanas were $125 a day and there was a waiting list. But for that money they brought around free fruit and water so it was a bargain. We opted for cosabellas which are lounge chairs with a hood. $40 and a half hour wait in line to sign up. There's a rumor that at the Four Seasons the lines start forming at 4:30 a.m. All the nannies and assistants have to really get up early over there.
Nothing more relaxing than turning on the TV and seeing there's a heightened Terror Alert. Yeah, like who would ever want to attack Hawaii?
One of the many great things about this paradise -- you never hear Paul McCartney's inane "Having a Wonderful Christmas" on the radio. Instead they play Paul Anka's "Christmas in Japan".
Although McCartney was represented. At the art gallery in the next door high end fashion mall a big sign boasts an exhibition of paintings from Paul McCartney, Tony Bennett...and then in much smaller letters, Picasso.
Monday morning Santa Claus arrived on a long canoe bearing candy canes for the kids. He was clad only in a traditional cap and red skirt. The children were confused. Not like any Santa they had ever seen. What I didn't realize until that day was how many tattoos Santa had. Or how scary his heavily-tattooed Samoan elf was. You shouldn't be thinking about the Terror Alert when Santa arrives on shore.
We spent a lot of time with Jeff Nelson and his family. Jeff is a pitcher for the New York Yankees and we were together in Seattle in the early 90's. He's a rarity. A multi-million dollar ballplayer who actually spends time with his family. Four young daughters and no nannies, no baby-sitters -- just him and his wife Colette.
Contrast this with Eric Chavez. The Oakland A player who was also at our digs. Supposedly, his agent, Scott Boros, who was in the middle of trying to make the big Alex Rodriguez blockbuster trade to Boston had to take time out to call the Grand Wailea and request a cabana for Eric. To the hotel's credit they said no. (To the Red Sox credit they said no, too.)
My son goes to Tufts and has become a big Red Sox fan. Proudly wearing his Red Sox cap. However, when Jeff arrived Matt was reluctant to wear it -- Jeff's pending assault charges in Boston and all. So he ran out to the Gap and got a $4 hat that said "Est. 1969". I told him if anyone should ask what "Est. 1969" meant just say that was the year "Tiny Bubbles" was adopted as the official state song of Hawaii.
Truth is, Jeff could care less. Seriously, he's the sweetest guy in the world (I'm happy to be a character witness) and by Thursday Matt was back to wearing his beloved Red Sox cap. Even took pictures with Jeff while wearing it.
I wanted a picture with me and Paris Hilton where she was wearing nothing but that hat.
Her bodyguard was spotted at the pool Wednesday getting a pedicure. Even during this high Terror Alert.
Spotted on Christmas Eve day, a woman wearing a T-shirt that read in a Hebrew font: Kiss My Tuchas. Gee, why do they hate us??
It amazes me how many women put on make up to go to the beach. And Botox is very "in" this year. But it is keeping with the Hawaiian spirit since they all look like Jack Lord.
We brought our menorah and lit Chanukah candles. I guess we weren't alone because when I went down to the bar to get matches the waitress said, "Gee, you're like the ninth person to ask for these. Is there a bonfire somewhere?" I said no, it was a fireworks convention. In Hawaii they buy that answer.
The pace on the islands remains blissfully slow. There's a little church on the grounds of the hotel and every morning its chapel bells would ring at 8:10.
Yes, I went down a water slide. Matt took a picture. You will never see it.
This being the busiest season of the year there were lines everywhere...except at the health club. Had no problem getting a treadmaster, no problem finding empty weight machines. The guy selling ice cream dots was mobbed.
Why is it the fatter the person the louder the Hawaiian shirt? Or the bigger the implants the louder the hair dye?
Book of choice at the Grand Wailea was "the Da Vinci Code". At the Four Seasons it was the biography of Lew Wasserman.
They sell jewelry down at the pool. Women with their guts hanging over their bikini bottoms trying on pearls. I have no idea whether they like the stuff or not. Because of the Botox they can't make an expression.
Went twice to Roy's restaurant. Best food on the island and never disappoints. And the view? Spectacular. Roy's is in the parking lot of a shopping center. You know you're in Hawaii when you see the crimson sun set behind the Safeway and the Crazy Shirt Emporium.
Commercial seen during Hawaiian newscast: a new retirement village featuring golf, recreation, pools, and year round sunshine...in Florida.
A Levine Christmas day tradition is to go to a movie. So we ventured into Kihae. First was dinner at Tony Romas where we were the only table to not order a five-pound onion loaf. Then to the cineplex to see "Paycheck". It's McGyver meets Memento. The Hawaiians who sat behind Annie and Matt were completely baffled. Bad enough there was the concept of time travel, they were just thrown because everyone in the movie was wearing long pants.
How Hollywood is Maui these days? There are academy screenings at the Castle Theatre. (No joke) Just show your DGA, WGA, or academy cards at the door.
Matt just turned 21 and loves being carded since he's now legal. There's a swim-up Grotto Bar and he wondered if he'd be carded there (and if so just where do they think he'd keep ID). So as an experiment he and Annie swam up to it, he ordered a White Russian and was served no problem. Annie ordered an Oreo smoothie and the bartender asked "You want any booze in that?" Annie is 17.
Debby had a hot rock massage. That's where the masseuse puts hot relaxing rocks on your back then sits off to the side silently chuckling and reading magazines.
But all in all another spectacular trip. The weather was perfect. And we got out just in time. Beginning today they're predicting four days of torrential downpours. I guess it's God saying to that woman "Kiss MY tuchas!"
Happy holidays and I leave you with this:
A' ohe 'ai pani 'ia o ka 'amo.
(no particular food blocks the anus).
Note one: Internet access providing I will continue to post. And note two: cast of characters -- Debby (wife), Matt (early 20's), and Annie (late teens). Mahalo for reading.
Aloha and howzit?
After a year's interruption (to rid ourselves of mold and my life savings) the Levines returned again to Hawaii. This year to the Grand Wailea on Maui. Picture Heart's Castle with water slides and a grotto bar. As usual it was glorious. NFL games start at 8 in the morning over there!!!
Paris and Nicky Hilton were staying at our hotel. I guess among the many amenities the Grand Wailea offers is a meth lab. (Sure an improvement over Fiona Apple at the Kahala. We got the better anoerexics.) The Four Seasons next door usually has the big Hollywood crowd. Maybe they didn't want Paris. After all, she did make that infamous sex tape...and worse, she has a show on Fox.
Our room was 6091 which was easy to remember because every time we went down for a couple of smoothies the bill was $60.91.
Their signature restaurant is Humahumanukunukuapua's (actual name). But people call is Humahumanhukunu's for short. Lobster was $59 a pound (again, this is true). They should change the name to Hubrishubrishubrishubrischutzpah.
I forgot to ask Paris how much Maui Wowie was these days.
Cabanas were $125 a day and there was a waiting list. But for that money they brought around free fruit and water so it was a bargain. We opted for cosabellas which are lounge chairs with a hood. $40 and a half hour wait in line to sign up. There's a rumor that at the Four Seasons the lines start forming at 4:30 a.m. All the nannies and assistants have to really get up early over there.
Nothing more relaxing than turning on the TV and seeing there's a heightened Terror Alert. Yeah, like who would ever want to attack Hawaii?
One of the many great things about this paradise -- you never hear Paul McCartney's inane "Having a Wonderful Christmas" on the radio. Instead they play Paul Anka's "Christmas in Japan".
Although McCartney was represented. At the art gallery in the next door high end fashion mall a big sign boasts an exhibition of paintings from Paul McCartney, Tony Bennett...and then in much smaller letters, Picasso.
Monday morning Santa Claus arrived on a long canoe bearing candy canes for the kids. He was clad only in a traditional cap and red skirt. The children were confused. Not like any Santa they had ever seen. What I didn't realize until that day was how many tattoos Santa had. Or how scary his heavily-tattooed Samoan elf was. You shouldn't be thinking about the Terror Alert when Santa arrives on shore.
We spent a lot of time with Jeff Nelson and his family. Jeff is a pitcher for the New York Yankees and we were together in Seattle in the early 90's. He's a rarity. A multi-million dollar ballplayer who actually spends time with his family. Four young daughters and no nannies, no baby-sitters -- just him and his wife Colette.
Contrast this with Eric Chavez. The Oakland A player who was also at our digs. Supposedly, his agent, Scott Boros, who was in the middle of trying to make the big Alex Rodriguez blockbuster trade to Boston had to take time out to call the Grand Wailea and request a cabana for Eric. To the hotel's credit they said no. (To the Red Sox credit they said no, too.)
My son goes to Tufts and has become a big Red Sox fan. Proudly wearing his Red Sox cap. However, when Jeff arrived Matt was reluctant to wear it -- Jeff's pending assault charges in Boston and all. So he ran out to the Gap and got a $4 hat that said "Est. 1969". I told him if anyone should ask what "Est. 1969" meant just say that was the year "Tiny Bubbles" was adopted as the official state song of Hawaii.
Truth is, Jeff could care less. Seriously, he's the sweetest guy in the world (I'm happy to be a character witness) and by Thursday Matt was back to wearing his beloved Red Sox cap. Even took pictures with Jeff while wearing it.
I wanted a picture with me and Paris Hilton where she was wearing nothing but that hat.
Her bodyguard was spotted at the pool Wednesday getting a pedicure. Even during this high Terror Alert.
Spotted on Christmas Eve day, a woman wearing a T-shirt that read in a Hebrew font: Kiss My Tuchas. Gee, why do they hate us??
It amazes me how many women put on make up to go to the beach. And Botox is very "in" this year. But it is keeping with the Hawaiian spirit since they all look like Jack Lord.
We brought our menorah and lit Chanukah candles. I guess we weren't alone because when I went down to the bar to get matches the waitress said, "Gee, you're like the ninth person to ask for these. Is there a bonfire somewhere?" I said no, it was a fireworks convention. In Hawaii they buy that answer.
The pace on the islands remains blissfully slow. There's a little church on the grounds of the hotel and every morning its chapel bells would ring at 8:10.
Yes, I went down a water slide. Matt took a picture. You will never see it.
This being the busiest season of the year there were lines everywhere...except at the health club. Had no problem getting a treadmaster, no problem finding empty weight machines. The guy selling ice cream dots was mobbed.
Why is it the fatter the person the louder the Hawaiian shirt? Or the bigger the implants the louder the hair dye?
Book of choice at the Grand Wailea was "the Da Vinci Code". At the Four Seasons it was the biography of Lew Wasserman.
They sell jewelry down at the pool. Women with their guts hanging over their bikini bottoms trying on pearls. I have no idea whether they like the stuff or not. Because of the Botox they can't make an expression.
Went twice to Roy's restaurant. Best food on the island and never disappoints. And the view? Spectacular. Roy's is in the parking lot of a shopping center. You know you're in Hawaii when you see the crimson sun set behind the Safeway and the Crazy Shirt Emporium.
Commercial seen during Hawaiian newscast: a new retirement village featuring golf, recreation, pools, and year round sunshine...in Florida.
A Levine Christmas day tradition is to go to a movie. So we ventured into Kihae. First was dinner at Tony Romas where we were the only table to not order a five-pound onion loaf. Then to the cineplex to see "Paycheck". It's McGyver meets Memento. The Hawaiians who sat behind Annie and Matt were completely baffled. Bad enough there was the concept of time travel, they were just thrown because everyone in the movie was wearing long pants.
How Hollywood is Maui these days? There are academy screenings at the Castle Theatre. (No joke) Just show your DGA, WGA, or academy cards at the door.
Matt just turned 21 and loves being carded since he's now legal. There's a swim-up Grotto Bar and he wondered if he'd be carded there (and if so just where do they think he'd keep ID). So as an experiment he and Annie swam up to it, he ordered a White Russian and was served no problem. Annie ordered an Oreo smoothie and the bartender asked "You want any booze in that?" Annie is 17.
Debby had a hot rock massage. That's where the masseuse puts hot relaxing rocks on your back then sits off to the side silently chuckling and reading magazines.
But all in all another spectacular trip. The weather was perfect. And we got out just in time. Beginning today they're predicting four days of torrential downpours. I guess it's God saying to that woman "Kiss MY tuchas!"
Happy holidays and I leave you with this:
A' ohe 'ai pani 'ia o ka 'amo.
(no particular food blocks the anus).
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
And the winner is...
Congratulations to all my colleagues nominated for Writers Guild Awards. Note to nominees: wear a tuxedo. David Isaacs and I were nominated several times, rented tuxedos and lost. We always noticed there were a few people in dark suits and felt even more like schmucks. So one year when we knew we’d lose we just went the dark suit route. And of course we won. We sheepishly walked up to the podium and David said, “Sorry, we dressed for nomination only”.
Later we took pictures with our presenter, Jimmy Smits. Click click and he was gone. A few minutes later the photographer wanted to take a few more shots. They said Smits had left so the photographer said, “Okay, then never mind.” Jesus, writers get no respect even at the Writers Guild awards.
To put “winning” in perspective, let me share with you what it was like to win an Emmy. The envelope is ripped open, your name is read, you can’t believe it, and you race up to the stage. You stand at the podium.
What’s going through your mind at a monumental moment like this? For me, honestly, I thought of all the assholes I went through basic training with in the army who thought I was such a fuck up. I was hoping they were watching and having heart attacks from shock. I was also aware that everyone in the audience was glaring at me. I saw the red light of the camera, knew that yes, this was my one big moment on national television. But I also knew that if I didn’t get the hell off quick – I mean REAL quick -- millions of people I didn’t know were going to hate my guts.
So I rushed through my prepared speech, thanked my wife, son, and I think Drill Sgt. Miller then was led off.
Backstage, we took photos with your presenters. In our case, Arthur & Kathryn Murray. Who knew they were even still alive? Then we were led from one interview room to the next. National TV, national radio, local press, national press, foreign press, magazines, food product surveys, I dunno. Light bulbs flashing. Questions coming from all sides. Microphones shoved in my face. And after a few minutes we’re ushered into the next room because the next winners are breathing down our necks. We were in a daze. We just went where they told us. Finally we were told to go through “that door”. We did. It closed and locked behind us.
And we found ourselves outside. In the alley. Next to the garbage dump, surrounded by buzzing flies. In our tuxedos, holding our shiny new Emmys. What the fuck?! We banged on the door to get back in. Nothing. We walked along the side of the building, trying other doors. All closed. I thought of maybe using the Emmy to jimmy one of the locks. No dice. It took us fifteen minutes to finally get back into the hall.
Which more than matched the fifteen minutes of fame.
So again, congratulations to the nominees. Wear tuxedos and know your exit strategy.
Later we took pictures with our presenter, Jimmy Smits. Click click and he was gone. A few minutes later the photographer wanted to take a few more shots. They said Smits had left so the photographer said, “Okay, then never mind.” Jesus, writers get no respect even at the Writers Guild awards.
To put “winning” in perspective, let me share with you what it was like to win an Emmy. The envelope is ripped open, your name is read, you can’t believe it, and you race up to the stage. You stand at the podium.
What’s going through your mind at a monumental moment like this? For me, honestly, I thought of all the assholes I went through basic training with in the army who thought I was such a fuck up. I was hoping they were watching and having heart attacks from shock. I was also aware that everyone in the audience was glaring at me. I saw the red light of the camera, knew that yes, this was my one big moment on national television. But I also knew that if I didn’t get the hell off quick – I mean REAL quick -- millions of people I didn’t know were going to hate my guts.
So I rushed through my prepared speech, thanked my wife, son, and I think Drill Sgt. Miller then was led off.
Backstage, we took photos with your presenters. In our case, Arthur & Kathryn Murray. Who knew they were even still alive? Then we were led from one interview room to the next. National TV, national radio, local press, national press, foreign press, magazines, food product surveys, I dunno. Light bulbs flashing. Questions coming from all sides. Microphones shoved in my face. And after a few minutes we’re ushered into the next room because the next winners are breathing down our necks. We were in a daze. We just went where they told us. Finally we were told to go through “that door”. We did. It closed and locked behind us.
And we found ourselves outside. In the alley. Next to the garbage dump, surrounded by buzzing flies. In our tuxedos, holding our shiny new Emmys. What the fuck?! We banged on the door to get back in. Nothing. We walked along the side of the building, trying other doors. All closed. I thought of maybe using the Emmy to jimmy one of the locks. No dice. It took us fifteen minutes to finally get back into the hall.
Which more than matched the fifteen minutes of fame.
So again, congratulations to the nominees. Wear tuxedos and know your exit strategy.
The Best of the Golden Globes
Oh boy!! The Golden Globes have been announced. Each year for my friends I review the major award shows and the Golden Globes (except last year when I slept through them). So in honor of the nominations I thought I’d take you back to happier times – the 2004 Golden Globes, when Dick Clark was still producing and enjoying the relaxing music of KOST. Before housewives and cowboys were desperate. Before Ziyi Zhang became a star and household name.
It's the lid lifter to the 2004 Awards season, beginning with the show where the awards can be bought -- the Golden Globes. Winners are selected by the "foreign Press" meaning your busboys at Jerry's Deli. To put the Golden Globes in perspective, Pia Zadora won one. Jaimie Lee Curtiss once threw a big brunch at her house for the "Foreign Press" and copped a best actress award.
Sir Laurence Olivier at one time won a Golden Globe which literally broke in his hand during his acceptance speech.
And they are presented at a hotel owned by Merv Griffin and televised tape delayed to Hollywood with Dick Clark as producer. All meals are prepared on a George Foreman grill.
The big incentive for stars to attend is that they do provide dinner. And they can thank the busboys for voting for them.
The big attraction for the audience is that both movies and television are represented. And Charlie Sheen doesn't host (like the People's Choice Awards which is the Golden Globes with Jamie Cromwell as the biggest movie star)
Three weeks ago I was in that same ballroom to attend a gala dinner honoring the Chairman of Fox Television. Two days later he was fired. It's clearly where Hollywood goes to express its sincere gratitude.
Where else can you see Clint Eastwood and the Queer Eye guys considered peers?
Always glad to see Barbra Streisand...when she doesn't have to talk. And I loved her sheepskin gown. Last worn by Sonny Bono in 1965. Notice how they showed Babs on camera fifty times and her husband (a nominee) maybe twice?
Great that Anthony LaPaglia won...on NBC. This is the same network that refused to approve him for the co-starring role in the short-lived comedy, KRISTIN. Judging by the shot of his wife falling out of her dress, he already has two golden globes.
When Francis Conroy is not the most obscure actor to win an award you know you're in trouble.
Other than Rene Zellweger, none of the other Best Supporting Actresses were in movies that played anywhere other than the Laemelle. What a surprise that she won. The FP loves her. She eats out a lot.
When Rene Zellweger actually thanks the guy who makes sure she doesn't lose anything in her purse then you know these people are taking themselves just a tad too seriously.
I was happy THE OFFICE won. So what if 99% of the audience has never heard of it? Just from the ten second clip they deserved to beat the other nominees. WILL & GRACE put its best foot forward with a vagina joke. And ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT made fun of hispanic housekeepers. Considering that's the Foreign Press it's no wonder they lost.
Do seat fillers get to eat the meals of the people they’re substituting for?
Jessica Lange's hair looked like a Monet haystack.
The theme this year was "lessons". Every actor learned a "lesson" from either their director or family or guy who made sure they didn't lose anything in their purse.
Sarah Jessica Parker looked like she was wearing the Liberty Bell. Best Actress in a Comedy? What a list of Lucys. Debra Messing. Bonnie Hunt. Some girl from MONK. Alicia Silverstone. Sarah beat out the best.
I'm sorry Diane Lane lost. Stop blaming her for JUDGE DREDD.
How many times did you scream "Get Off!!!" during actors' acceptance speeches? I stopped counting at ten.
Diane Keaton actually prepared that hideous, rambling, incoherent speech of hers. We get it. You're old.
Best speech -- no wait, ONLY good speech: Bill Murray's.
Glad “24” won. Quite a few people from the show got up to accept. One was a mole. But whom???
Quick: name the winner of the Best Actor in a Television Comedy. Hint: He stars in THE OFFICE. Another hint: Ricky Gervais. Any ideas?
You can't say Eric McCormack was robbed. I forget whether he delivered the vagina joke or it was one of the other over-actors.
Jaimie Lee Curtiss should have hosted a brunch this year. But it's an honor just to be nominated.
Pacino is starting to look like Frank Zappa. And sound like him. What the hell was his speech about? Even he got lost. I was impressed however, that he acknowledged his twins and actually knew their names.
The gowns were by and large simple and elegant. I have one suggestion for Rene Zellweger: sleeves!!
When you watched the Michael Douglas tribute montage didn't you say "God, he's gotten old?" Highlight of the night for me was seeing Karl Malden. I'm happy Michael received that award because as part of his pre nup with Catherine Zeta-Jones if he didn't win the Cecil B. DeMille Award she was entitled to another million dollars of his money when they split.
THE LORD OF THE RINGS TRILOGY did so well I say it's time for a sequel.
Peter Jackson, its director, forgot to thank the talking tree.
Can you imagine if Sofia Coppola had beaten out Peter Weir, Peter Jackson, and Clint Eastwood? Notice how Jackson acknowledged all of his fellow nominees except Coppola? So Coppola and the talking tree both got dissed.
Nicole Kidman looked like Dorothy Provine in THE ROARING 20's. I'm only sorry that Tom Cruise didn't win because I would love to have seen her have to present the award to him.
Afghanistan wins but SIX FEET UNDER loses again.
All five Best Actress nominees were blondes. The foreign press loves that exotic American look.
Charlize Theron won for a great performance. Who knew she could play ugly?
Melanie Griffith has crossed into middle age. Oh...and get a babysitter next year, Mel.
For the eleventh straight awards show Jim Carrey wasn't funny. And for the eleventh straight awards show he thought he killed.
LOST IN TRANSLATION -- Best COMEDY??? Good movie but excuse me, aren't comedies supposed to be funny? I guess when you work the back sink at Jerry's nothing is funny.
Okay....so bring on the real award shows – like SAG and the Patsys!
It's the lid lifter to the 2004 Awards season, beginning with the show where the awards can be bought -- the Golden Globes. Winners are selected by the "foreign Press" meaning your busboys at Jerry's Deli. To put the Golden Globes in perspective, Pia Zadora won one. Jaimie Lee Curtiss once threw a big brunch at her house for the "Foreign Press" and copped a best actress award.
Sir Laurence Olivier at one time won a Golden Globe which literally broke in his hand during his acceptance speech.
And they are presented at a hotel owned by Merv Griffin and televised tape delayed to Hollywood with Dick Clark as producer. All meals are prepared on a George Foreman grill.
The big incentive for stars to attend is that they do provide dinner. And they can thank the busboys for voting for them.
The big attraction for the audience is that both movies and television are represented. And Charlie Sheen doesn't host (like the People's Choice Awards which is the Golden Globes with Jamie Cromwell as the biggest movie star)
Three weeks ago I was in that same ballroom to attend a gala dinner honoring the Chairman of Fox Television. Two days later he was fired. It's clearly where Hollywood goes to express its sincere gratitude.
Where else can you see Clint Eastwood and the Queer Eye guys considered peers?
Always glad to see Barbra Streisand...when she doesn't have to talk. And I loved her sheepskin gown. Last worn by Sonny Bono in 1965. Notice how they showed Babs on camera fifty times and her husband (a nominee) maybe twice?
Great that Anthony LaPaglia won...on NBC. This is the same network that refused to approve him for the co-starring role in the short-lived comedy, KRISTIN. Judging by the shot of his wife falling out of her dress, he already has two golden globes.
When Francis Conroy is not the most obscure actor to win an award you know you're in trouble.
Other than Rene Zellweger, none of the other Best Supporting Actresses were in movies that played anywhere other than the Laemelle. What a surprise that she won. The FP loves her. She eats out a lot.
When Rene Zellweger actually thanks the guy who makes sure she doesn't lose anything in her purse then you know these people are taking themselves just a tad too seriously.
I was happy THE OFFICE won. So what if 99% of the audience has never heard of it? Just from the ten second clip they deserved to beat the other nominees. WILL & GRACE put its best foot forward with a vagina joke. And ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT made fun of hispanic housekeepers. Considering that's the Foreign Press it's no wonder they lost.
Do seat fillers get to eat the meals of the people they’re substituting for?
Jessica Lange's hair looked like a Monet haystack.
The theme this year was "lessons". Every actor learned a "lesson" from either their director or family or guy who made sure they didn't lose anything in their purse.
Sarah Jessica Parker looked like she was wearing the Liberty Bell. Best Actress in a Comedy? What a list of Lucys. Debra Messing. Bonnie Hunt. Some girl from MONK. Alicia Silverstone. Sarah beat out the best.
I'm sorry Diane Lane lost. Stop blaming her for JUDGE DREDD.
How many times did you scream "Get Off!!!" during actors' acceptance speeches? I stopped counting at ten.
Diane Keaton actually prepared that hideous, rambling, incoherent speech of hers. We get it. You're old.
Best speech -- no wait, ONLY good speech: Bill Murray's.
Glad “24” won. Quite a few people from the show got up to accept. One was a mole. But whom???
Quick: name the winner of the Best Actor in a Television Comedy. Hint: He stars in THE OFFICE. Another hint: Ricky Gervais. Any ideas?
You can't say Eric McCormack was robbed. I forget whether he delivered the vagina joke or it was one of the other over-actors.
Jaimie Lee Curtiss should have hosted a brunch this year. But it's an honor just to be nominated.
Pacino is starting to look like Frank Zappa. And sound like him. What the hell was his speech about? Even he got lost. I was impressed however, that he acknowledged his twins and actually knew their names.
The gowns were by and large simple and elegant. I have one suggestion for Rene Zellweger: sleeves!!
When you watched the Michael Douglas tribute montage didn't you say "God, he's gotten old?" Highlight of the night for me was seeing Karl Malden. I'm happy Michael received that award because as part of his pre nup with Catherine Zeta-Jones if he didn't win the Cecil B. DeMille Award she was entitled to another million dollars of his money when they split.
THE LORD OF THE RINGS TRILOGY did so well I say it's time for a sequel.
Peter Jackson, its director, forgot to thank the talking tree.
Can you imagine if Sofia Coppola had beaten out Peter Weir, Peter Jackson, and Clint Eastwood? Notice how Jackson acknowledged all of his fellow nominees except Coppola? So Coppola and the talking tree both got dissed.
Nicole Kidman looked like Dorothy Provine in THE ROARING 20's. I'm only sorry that Tom Cruise didn't win because I would love to have seen her have to present the award to him.
Afghanistan wins but SIX FEET UNDER loses again.
All five Best Actress nominees were blondes. The foreign press loves that exotic American look.
Charlize Theron won for a great performance. Who knew she could play ugly?
Melanie Griffith has crossed into middle age. Oh...and get a babysitter next year, Mel.
For the eleventh straight awards show Jim Carrey wasn't funny. And for the eleventh straight awards show he thought he killed.
LOST IN TRANSLATION -- Best COMEDY??? Good movie but excuse me, aren't comedies supposed to be funny? I guess when you work the back sink at Jerry's nothing is funny.
Okay....so bring on the real award shows – like SAG and the Patsys!
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Jack is Back
Loved the comment by Mik wondering if anybody ever wrote a spec “24”. I can just see the rejection letter:
Thank you for your script “5:00 – 6:00 P.M.” Unfortunately it does not fit our needs. There were a number of choices you made that suggest you’re not really familiar with our show. On page 12 you have Jack eating. No one ever eats. You also refer to take-out cartons strewn all over CTU. For future reference, only agents and approved personnel are given security clearance to CTU, not Domino Pizza boys. We pride ourselves on reality. On page 16 you have Jack saying he needs to use the bathroom. Why not a manicure? We have no time for such frivolous activities.
Pay careful attention to the clock. You have Tony driving out to Simi Valley from headquarters downtown in 52 minutes. Everyone knows, at that hour of the day, it only takes 10 minutes, 13 if there’s heavy traffic.
Not once in your script did you have anyone say, “Just let me do my job!” I almost didn’t recognize it as a “24”.
When Jack calls Michelle and says, “Get me those coordinates now or 10,000,000 people will die!” you don’t need Michelle answering, “I know. I’m not a fucking moron. You told me that three times already!”
When the CTU staff learns that Jack’s daughter Kim has been kidnapped you have them all cheering. I don’t think they would do that. They would merely smile knowingly to each other.
And finally, I didn’t find your jeopardy –- Jack trying to prevent Hurricane Katrina -- plausible. Better to stick with crazed foreigners who bought nuclear weapons on ebay and plan to blow up the world because they couldn’t get a parking space at the Grove. Always think realism!
Thank you again for your submission. Although it is wildly uneven and stretches credibility far beyond what any audience would accept I am forwarding it to PRISON BREAK.
Thank you for your script “5:00 – 6:00 P.M.” Unfortunately it does not fit our needs. There were a number of choices you made that suggest you’re not really familiar with our show. On page 12 you have Jack eating. No one ever eats. You also refer to take-out cartons strewn all over CTU. For future reference, only agents and approved personnel are given security clearance to CTU, not Domino Pizza boys. We pride ourselves on reality. On page 16 you have Jack saying he needs to use the bathroom. Why not a manicure? We have no time for such frivolous activities.
Pay careful attention to the clock. You have Tony driving out to Simi Valley from headquarters downtown in 52 minutes. Everyone knows, at that hour of the day, it only takes 10 minutes, 13 if there’s heavy traffic.
Not once in your script did you have anyone say, “Just let me do my job!” I almost didn’t recognize it as a “24”.
When Jack calls Michelle and says, “Get me those coordinates now or 10,000,000 people will die!” you don’t need Michelle answering, “I know. I’m not a fucking moron. You told me that three times already!”
When the CTU staff learns that Jack’s daughter Kim has been kidnapped you have them all cheering. I don’t think they would do that. They would merely smile knowingly to each other.
And finally, I didn’t find your jeopardy –- Jack trying to prevent Hurricane Katrina -- plausible. Better to stick with crazed foreigners who bought nuclear weapons on ebay and plan to blow up the world because they couldn’t get a parking space at the Grove. Always think realism!
Thank you again for your submission. Although it is wildly uneven and stretches credibility far beyond what any audience would accept I am forwarding it to PRISON BREAK.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Do not try this at home!
I have read some bad specs in my time and now offer some suggestions of what not to do based on actual scripts I have read…or at least attempted to read.
Don’t view the show from the perspective of a fly. I once read a WINGS spec as seen by a buzzing fly. I offer this as the first example because I know so many young writers fall into this same trap.
Don’t put yourself into the show and make yourself the lead character. I once read a CHEERS where Alan had more lines than Sam & Diane combined. Alan? Who’s Alan? Alan was one of the extras. And so he remained.
And just because people tell you you look like Debra Messing doesn’t mean you should write a WILL & GRACE entitled “Grace’s Sister”. If I get a script with a photo attached I know I’m in trouble.
Don’t hand write your script, no matter how good your penmanship. Send your spec in a UCLA blue book and you’ll get an F.
Don’t invent a format.
Know the characters. I read a spec MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW where Mary wondered what to get her husband for his birthday. Her “husband”???!
Keep in mind the production parameters. A MASH I once read featured this:
EXT. YANKEE STADIUM – DAY
Hawkeye is on the mound during the World Series. 60,000 people cheer.
Huh????? Ask yourself the following question: Can anybody other than Peter Jackson or James Cameron make this? And if the answer is no, especially for a multi-camera show that takes place in a living room, then don’t do it.
Similarly, avoid dream sequences. The GEORGE LOPEZ SHOW is not looking for the next Fellini.
Don’t hinge your show on stunt casting. I read a BECKER where former President Jimmy Carter came in for a check-up and offered dating advice. Yeah, President Carter gets his physicals in the Bronx. And yeah, President Carter is always available to guest on a sitcom and advise a character to say whatever is necessary to get laid.
Don’t change the characters’ reality to fit your story. Ray Barone is not Jewish. THAT’S why he can’t have a bar mitzvah.
I was going to recommend you don’t do like one aspiring writer and make a joke in a CHEERS about Diane’s pussy because it’s crude, offensive, and inappropriate, but I saw the same joke two weeks ago on STACKED.
Still, I’d like to think there is some line of decorum and taste left. I once read a NEWSRADIO where the story was the Dave Foley character comes into his office in the morning and discovers a semen stain on his couch. Then the episode went downhill.
Don’t marry off any of the main characters.
Don’t kill off any of the main characters.
Don’t go the first ten pages before doing a joke. This even applies to many drama specs.
Don’t do the “supersize” hour episode.
The last sentence in your script should not be “To Be Continued”.
Don’t include a cover letter telling the producer that you sent him a copy of the script months ago and that he was shirking his responsibility by not reading it. Our agent did this once and trust me, David Lloyd was not amused.
And finally, avoid this ploy: I once received a spec MASH with a note that read “This script was written by my brother. On his way to the post office to mail it he was hit by a car and killed. I’m sure he would have wanted you to read it anyway. P.S. If you want any changes I can make them.” He received a touching rejection sympathy card.
Just remember this, when producers read your script they want to like it. They want to discover the next Larry Gelbart. It only helps them. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by doing something stupid like relying on Jimmy Carter to get your laughs.
Don’t view the show from the perspective of a fly. I once read a WINGS spec as seen by a buzzing fly. I offer this as the first example because I know so many young writers fall into this same trap.
Don’t put yourself into the show and make yourself the lead character. I once read a CHEERS where Alan had more lines than Sam & Diane combined. Alan? Who’s Alan? Alan was one of the extras. And so he remained.
And just because people tell you you look like Debra Messing doesn’t mean you should write a WILL & GRACE entitled “Grace’s Sister”. If I get a script with a photo attached I know I’m in trouble.
Don’t hand write your script, no matter how good your penmanship. Send your spec in a UCLA blue book and you’ll get an F.
Don’t invent a format.
Know the characters. I read a spec MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW where Mary wondered what to get her husband for his birthday. Her “husband”???!
Keep in mind the production parameters. A MASH I once read featured this:
EXT. YANKEE STADIUM – DAY
Hawkeye is on the mound during the World Series. 60,000 people cheer.
Huh????? Ask yourself the following question: Can anybody other than Peter Jackson or James Cameron make this? And if the answer is no, especially for a multi-camera show that takes place in a living room, then don’t do it.
Similarly, avoid dream sequences. The GEORGE LOPEZ SHOW is not looking for the next Fellini.
Don’t hinge your show on stunt casting. I read a BECKER where former President Jimmy Carter came in for a check-up and offered dating advice. Yeah, President Carter gets his physicals in the Bronx. And yeah, President Carter is always available to guest on a sitcom and advise a character to say whatever is necessary to get laid.
Don’t change the characters’ reality to fit your story. Ray Barone is not Jewish. THAT’S why he can’t have a bar mitzvah.
I was going to recommend you don’t do like one aspiring writer and make a joke in a CHEERS about Diane’s pussy because it’s crude, offensive, and inappropriate, but I saw the same joke two weeks ago on STACKED.
Still, I’d like to think there is some line of decorum and taste left. I once read a NEWSRADIO where the story was the Dave Foley character comes into his office in the morning and discovers a semen stain on his couch. Then the episode went downhill.
Don’t marry off any of the main characters.
Don’t kill off any of the main characters.
Don’t go the first ten pages before doing a joke. This even applies to many drama specs.
Don’t do the “supersize” hour episode.
The last sentence in your script should not be “To Be Continued”.
Don’t include a cover letter telling the producer that you sent him a copy of the script months ago and that he was shirking his responsibility by not reading it. Our agent did this once and trust me, David Lloyd was not amused.
And finally, avoid this ploy: I once received a spec MASH with a note that read “This script was written by my brother. On his way to the post office to mail it he was hit by a car and killed. I’m sure he would have wanted you to read it anyway. P.S. If you want any changes I can make them.” He received a touching rejection sympathy card.
Just remember this, when producers read your script they want to like it. They want to discover the next Larry Gelbart. It only helps them. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by doing something stupid like relying on Jimmy Carter to get your laughs.
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