PITCHING THE AMERICAN IDOL WAY

I had the opportunity to teach a workshop on pitching to the graduating seniors and grad students at USC a couple of weeks ago, and with American Idol on the brain, I realized that the two are actually very closely connected.

These students are getting ready for their first big opportunity to pitch their own projects to real live buyers -- a sort of "speed pitch" (like speed dating), where they'll have 5 minutes or so to make a string of producers and execs pay attention to them. None of them will sell a script off this opportunity, but they could move to the next step: Get a script read, get a meeting, start a relationship.

And that, of course, is exactly what American Idol offers every week: A short time to get someone to "yes" to you, to try to move to the next step.

As I taught my students, there are four points of connection between pitching and American Idol.

1) Song choice. Every week on American Idol, we see people excoriated by the judges for poor song choice. Just last night, Chikezie got sent home because he chose the wrong song to sing -- a boring song, one that didn't show him off to his best advantage. It won't be the last time that happens, either.

The corollary for pitching is the choice of story to pitch. Some stories just aren't pitchable. Little Miss Sunshine, for example. Can't you see the poor writer trying to sell it: "The dad can't hold down a job and really, he's pretty pathetic; the grandpa's addicted to porn; the son refuses to speak; the brother just lost his job because of a gay scandal; and the schlumpy little girl wants to win a beauty contest she didn't even qualify for, so they're driving across the country in a broken VW minibus..." Um, no. No way you could convey the sweet, hilarious, painful quirkiness of that movie in a pitch. Better just to write it.

But you also have to choose the right story for you. We're starting to see the range of the singers on American Idol by this time in the season. David Archuleta, incredible voice notwithstanding, has a pretty small range at this point. He can sing the power ballads, the emotional songs. But when he steps out of that range, the performance is awkward.

Similarly, if you're a thriller writer, it's all you've ever done, it's what you're known for, but suddenly you choose to pitch a raunchy male-driven comedy... well, why should I believe you've got the chops to deliver what you're promising? It's not the right choice of content for you, at least not to pitch. (Write a raunchy comedy and make me laugh, and then I'll believe you've expanded your range enough to hear your pitch.)

2) Personality David Archuleta may have had a bad week when he sang "We Can Work It Out" (even forgetting the lyrics, the ultimate no-no on American Idol!). But he was never in danger, because millions of people (most of them probably preteen girls) love him. His persona is so strong that we forgive the mistakes. We just want to see him back again.

Same with Brooke White. There's something we love about her, even though her range, like David A's, is not that big. Whereas Carly Smithson, with the best raw voice American Idol has seen in some time, ended up in the bottom 3 last week even after giving a beautiful performance. Somehow her personality isn't coming over as well, isn't as winning (literally).

And we've already gotten rid of most of the people who really had no discernable personality -- the ones Simon inevitably describes as "forgettable." (And he's right.)

In pitching, personality is just as important. If people want to work with you, they have to like you. We've lost jobs in the past simply because an exec liked us but his or her boss didn't. And I'm sure we've gotten jobs where other people were more qualified because someone did like us. When the supply of available workers vastly outstrips the demand (as it does in screenwriting, just as it does in the world of American Idol contestants), the people with the power to say "yes" will often say yes based on personality.

This is tough for writers, most of whom have chosen a profession that keeps them in a small room staring at a computer screen by themselves. I see a lot of writers who are, frankly, forgettable. It'd be hard to remember them, to remember their pitch, even to remember their names, a day later. But if you're going to pitch, you have to realize: Even more than selling your story, you're selling yourself. And there better be something definable there to sell.

3) The Actual Performance How many people watched Brooke flub her opening phrase the other night, saw her grimace, then start over, and thought, "Uh-oh! She's in trouble now!" only to be surprised when the judges praised her as a professional for doing that. What they were praising was the fact that she knew her performance was off and took steps to correct it.

And how often do we see the judges comment on the performance of the song as something separate and distinct from the song choice? That's because it is: Each time a singer sings a song, the performance will be slightly different -- maybe substantially different -- with different energy, different nuances, different emotional resonances, different technical problems (or lack thereof).

A pitch is a piece of performance art. It changes each time you do it. You have to read the room when you're pitching, direct parts of the pitch to different people, amplify sections that get a great reaction, cover for those areas people don't like, cut sections down when you realize they're getting bored, spin plot lines in a new direction based on the comments in the room.

It's like a rehearsed improvisation. You know exactly what you're going to do, but you do it differently every time. That takes some real performance skills.

And if you muff the beginning, have to apologize and start over -- you do that, too.

4) Simon vs. Paula Sometimes a performance is so breathtaking, so perfect (David Cook singing Billie Jean this week, for example), that everyone is blown away. But more often, as we see weekly on American Idol, different people respond differently. Paula likes it. Simon finds it "karaoke" or "theme park" or "cruise ship." How can they both be right?

You can control so many elements of your pitch. You can choose the right story, you can have a winning personality that shines through in the room, you can deliver a spot-on performance. But there's one thing you can't control: The receptivity of the buyer.

Maybe they already heard five versions of the latest National Treasure clone this week, and they just don't want to hear another one. Maybe they had a bad day. Maybe they have something in development just like what you're pitching and stop your pitch for legal reasons. Maybe they're worried about losing their job and they can't focus on you. Maybe they're just bad at their job.

It's important when you're pitching to realize you can't please everyone, you can't guarantee anyone's reaction. You do your best, you learn lessons on how to do better the next time, and you move on. It'd be nice to think that the perfect pitch would result in uniform reactions of astonishment, awe, and bidding wars. But it won't. You just have to accept that you can't control the result of your pitch, and let it go. There's always a next pitch.

...That's the essence of how I began my pitching workshop for all those graduating students. (Of course, I went on to teach more of the "how to pitch" elements as well.) Then I sent them home telling them to watch American Idol every week, watch how the contestants try to sell themselves, how they respond to criticism, how they shape their performances and make their song choices. In essence, for some students at least, I moved American Idol from the category of "Guilty Pleasure" to the category of "Homework."

Hope you found this comparison interesting. If not, well, there's always a next post.

ONE OF THE BEST UNPRODUCED SCRIPTS...

Lee and I moved from unknowns to working writers overnight back in the 1990s when we sold our spec script Smoke and Mirrors, loosely based on the real life exploits of the great French stage magician Robert-Houdin. Sean Connery was to star, Frank Marshall was to direct -- and then it all fell apart for reasons which differ depending on whom you're talking to.

Many other writers were brought in, some at astronomical prices, to rewrite the script. We have studiously avoided reading their drafts, but we hear they all sucked.

Around 2000, Michael Douglas became interested, and the script was bought for him and Catherine Zeta-Jones to star in. They looked at all the versions that had been written, and went back to the first draft -- our original script. They were in pre-production with Mimi Leder directing, ready to start shooting in January 2002. And then 9/11 happened. And the production, which was set to shoot in Morocco, fell apart again.

The company that owned the script at that time has since been sold, the script has languished, we got written up in a book called Tales from Development Hell... but still, in virtually every meeting we go to, someone mentions Smoke and Mirrors and how much they love it.

And now we've turned up on (yet another) list of the best unproduced scripts.

It's nice to be considered alongside the other listed scripts. Very fine company, indeed.

But every now and then, we have to wonder... wouldn't it be nicer to be on a list of produced scripts?... sigh.

Thank you (anyway!) to Blue Sky Disney for the shoutout!

OUR DAY AT AMERICAN IDOL

We had such a great time at American Idol on Wednesday.

As we drove up to the studio, we saw a long, loooong line of people waiting on the sidewalk. Uh-oh, I thought. But that wasn't the gate we'd been told to enter, so we kept driving.

Around the corner was our gate, the "VIP" gate (ha!). Only half a dozen people here. They found our name on the list, they checked our ID, they waved us through to the sound stage. At the sound stage, they found our name on another list, they handed over our beautiful glossy tickets (which were clearly meant to be souvenirs primarily, as no one even tore off the ticket stub), they gave us our wristbands.

And then the waiting really began. Not a long line, but a long time. Turns out that, after the rehearsal, they lock down the set and a bomb-sniffing dog goes over it stem to stern. Today the dog was taking a long time, and there was nothing we could do about it.

It makes sense when you think about it. If you were a crazy who wanted to set off a big bang and make the biggest possible splash... well, the number one TV show in America (hence the biggest possible audience), combined with the fact that it's live, makes American Idol the perfect show to go after. Plus we've all seen how insane and angry some people get when they're (rightfully) rejected in the auditions -- who knows what some of those crazies might do?!

Kevin Covais ("Chicken Little" from season 5) was in line a few folks behind us. He looks a bit better now, less geeky and awkward.

So eventually we got in, got to our seats. We had good seats -- though there really weren't any bad seats -- a few rows back, but raised up off the floor so the groundlings in the mosh pit weren't blocking our view. Even little Sabrina had no problem seeing. But you couldn't see us on the broadcast -- we were right under the sweep of the jib camera that does the big swoooosh over the audience coming back from commercial breaks, but since it's looking forward, not down, well, even in my bright yellow jacket, we're not visible.

The studio was much smaller than we expected -- it probably held 500 total, including the mosh pit, with only about 15 rows of seats. Maybe 1/3 the size of our church. Beautifully designed, with screens and moving parts you usually don't see on TV.
They pre-taped a couple of segments before the show actually started: The rather lame call-in segment, which had to be done twice. It was interesting to see what a pro Ryan Seacrest actually is, handling the "dialogue" just a bit differently each time, and smooth as silk. And they pre-taped Kelly Pickler's number, which she did in one extremely professional take.

The judges came out for the pre-tape of course, each with a bodyguard to walk them the 30 feet to their table. Simon disappeared the second it was over, Randy fist-pumped some folks in the mosh pit. But I was very impressed to see that Paula stayed around and talked to anyone who wanted to talk to her, which mostly consisted of little girls. Sabrina went down and got an autograph and a hug and a high five and chatted for a minute with Paula, who was incredibly gracious the whole time.

They brought out the contestants for us to cheer right before the show started. Biggest cheers by far went to Jason Castro, Brooke White, and especially David Archuleta. Lots of quavery little girls all excited about David A. I think he may be turning into a bit of a one-trick pony, but don't underestimate the power of little girls with cell phones in their hands.

It was interesting to see what works better in the room vs. on the TV screen. I love Ryan's "This... is American Idol" moment on screen each week, but since he was basically speaking into a camera 3' from his face at the time, it was weak in the room.

But the opening number was far, far better in the room than on TV, where it felt stiff and awkward. It sounded much, much better live. Plus it was fun to watch the steadicam operator running (literally) around the stage (this was the opening number all done in one shot) -- He got his own applause after it was over (during the break), and Cory got to understand what I meant when I said that a steadicam guy wears his camera. Sabrina was particularly excited that they sang While My Guitar Gently Weeps, as that's one of the songs she's been learning this week.

Pure shock in the room when Carly Smithson was in the bottom 3. You couldn't hear the gasps on TV, but they were loud. No one could believe it.

Carly cried almost all through the break. Ryan went to her immediately after the cut to commercial, and stayed talking to her almost the whole 3 minutes. I almost wondered if he told her she had nothing to worry about (though that wouldn't make sense for the show), because she sure perked up. And got hair-and-makeup in to freshen her up post-crying, of course.

There was also some shock when Amanda ended up in the bottom 3, though not as much. But the real gasp of shock came when Amanda was voted off rather than Kristy Lee. Everyone in the room thought it would be Kristy Lee, and there were loud cries of "NO!" all over, which also didn't come through on the live show (because, of course, the audience isn't miked).

Amanda's final performance was a mess. She missed her cues, she seemed not to care at all. It just wasn't that good.

After the show, our snazzy pink wristbands got us into the "VIP" room -- so-so hors d'oeuvres and a coffee bar -- and the press area. Simon was again nowhere to be found, but Randy and Paula did some interviews, with Paula having to stand on an apple crate to be tall enough next to the interviewer. (She is incredibly tiny -- shorter than me, and she was wearing 6' heels.)

Sabrina got to say hi to Paula again, and again, Paula was so gracious. She even remembered meeting Sabrina earlier -- "I know you!" she said. Really lovely and generous.

Cory, who had by now lost his "I'm-too-cool-for-the-room" teenage demeanor, was very excited to meet Randy -- went racing around madly looking for a pen to get an autograph. And Sabrina emboldened herself enough to go up to Randy and say "I'm Sabrina, and I'm going to be on American Idol in 2014." Randy responded well, with a fist pump and "I'll be looking forward to seeing you!"

Then we walked around to the entrance where the contestants were going to come out. We got autographs, but most were smudged or otherwise a mess before we got to the car. [Note to self: TAKE A SHARPIE!] But it was lovely meeting the contestants, who clearly still find signing autographs and meeting fans a wonderful new experience, not something to shun. Chikezie was by far the most polite and gracious, closely followed by Brooke, and Carly (who talked about how sad she was at losing her roommate, Amanda). And Syesha (whom the other contestants all called "Sai") is incredibly beautiful in person, much more so than onscreen. Amanda did not come out.

As you can see, we took pictures, proving that the contestants have all been schooled in how to pose for the camera (and that our kids haven't!). (We tried to get Sabrina to take off her glasses, but she insisted on keeping them on because she felt that's how Paula recognized her the second time -- "They're my trademark," she said. Oh well.)

Then they were hustled back inside. We headed to the car, where too-cool Cory, the boy who won't open his mouth to sing out at church, announced that in 3 years, he thinks he'd like to audition for American Idol. You know, just for fun. (He's since been wondering out loud what his audition song might be... What do I think of Stairway to Heaven, say, as an audition song?)

And we made it home in time to watch the whole thing over again on TV.

A lovely evening, with great thanks to the friends who made it possible!

WED. NIGHT ON FOX, 9 PM (8 CENTRAL)

Guess where we're going this week?!

If the title of this post didn't tell you, then let me tell you a story.

You probably all know about Sabrina's Readathon, in which she raised over $2600 for non-writers who were hurting because of the Writers' Strike. (In fact, many of you participated in it!)

Well, one of Sabrina's supporters is a woman I know and work with in The Alliance of Women Directors. She not only supported Sabrina, she told her daughter about Sabrina's Readathon.

And that daughter happens to work in "Audience Relations" or some such (I don't know the exact title or department) at Disney. Which has some relationship of some sort to the show in question.

And the daughter was so impressed with Sabrina's Readathon that she wanted to do something nice for her. So she pulled some strings and made some requests...

And we're going to American Idol!!

This is like winning the lottery. Especially for Sabrina, who is the American Idol of 2014. (She'll be eligible in 2013, but, she's informed me, she doesn't feel she should expect to get through on her very first year. She might need a year of practice first.)


Sure, we'd love to see the Tuesday night performance show, but apparently those tickets are beyond impossible. So off we go on Wednesday to the results show! And as an extra special bonus for Lee, they're repeating last week's huge "theme" success and singing their way through the Lennon/McCartney songbook again.

Some of you may be rolling your eyes at how bourgeois we're being. I don't really care. We love American Idol in our house, this is the best season we've ever seen, and we are going to have a truly fab time. (Not to mention the bragging rights on the playground!)

Look for us. I'll be wearing bright yellow. Lee will be the one singing along to every song. Cory will be looking far too cool so as to hide the excitement he, as a teenager, can't admit he feels.

And Sabrina will be the one on cloud nine...

TO BLOG, PERCHANCE TO WRITE...

While I certainly understand the importance of procrastination in the writing process, it is very rare that I use blogging as a way to procrastinate from writing. I mean, doesn't it seem counterproductive in every way to write as a way to avoid writing?


(And besides, given the dearth of posts recently, couldn't you already tell I'm not blogging as a procrastination tool?)

Nevertheless, I know people who did indeed, while claiming to be writers, pour most of their creative energies into their blogs. So with them in mind, here is a nicely-written essay on the danger of Vampires on the Internet.

Enjoy!

A FUNERAL WITHOUT HOPE

I'm still dragged down from going to this funeral on the weekend.

I'm not a big funeral junkie to begin with (who is?), but this was particuarly hopeless.

God was referred to as "Eternal oneness of everything." The presiding official then proceded to wander on with something like, "Now there may be some of us here who may choose in our private beliefs to possibly think that there may be something that we may choose to call 'god,' and that may give some brief comfort."

He then went on to talk about how the life of the dead woman was a life filled with hope. You could see people looking puzzled all over the chapel. You could hear them thinking: "Um, no... she killed herself! How is that a life filled with hope?!"

Various people who spoke really had nothing to say. One relative spoke with pride about how the dead mom wanted her son to have a Mercedes when he turns 16. I wanted to scream, "Yeah, but I bet he'd rather have a mom!"

Not one person said that what had happened was wrong. Not one. Or even hinted at it. Or even referred to it.

Easily a couple hundred people, including many of the surviving children's classmates and teachers. Every seat was filled, with spillover to the outside. The place was packed.

But we left it empty.

SAD AND CONFUSED

I knew it was going to be a rough day for Sabrina the minute I opened my e-mail yesterday.

The mom of one of her classmates had died unexpectedly the day before. Grief counselors would be available at school, tests were postponed. It would be a difficult day.

The phone lines started humming very soon afterward, and the day got worse.

The mom in question killed herself.

As a doctor, she had access to drugs. She left instructions for the housekeeper so the children would be out of the house when her body was found (the housekeeper didn't follow the instructions). She went to a private part of the house. And she killed herself.

I found myself incredibly sad and confused over this. I just don't understand. This is not a woman I knew well, but we had been room moms together a few years ago, had spent time then. She had nice kids, a great job, a lovely home, no apparent sign anything was wrong. Why didn't anyone know?

Other moms were downright furious. How could she be so selfish as to do that to her children?! I understand their reaction, too -- Being a mom is, from the moment you realize you're pregnant, all about sacrifice, about giving things up (your time, your waistline, your energy, your passion, your career, your priorities, your self) for your children. Being a mom is the biggest blow to one's selfishness that I know. Killing yourself would seem to mitigate against that.

Sabrina, who is always emotionally empathic to an extreme, was sad, too. She started talking again, for the first time in years, about her beloved nanny Melody, who died when Sabrina was 5. And she called on her way home from school to ask me to promise that I would never kill myself.

I'm still so puzzled by it all, and my heart just aches for the little girl in Sabrina's class whose mom will not be there for her 6th grade graduation, her high school graduation, her marriage, her grandchildren... A little girl who will probably spend the rest of her life struggling to understand, to wonder if she did something wrong that caused her mom to do this.

...By happenstance, I've chanced to chat with a few people over the last couple of days who've griped a bit about being under "satanic attack." This attack has taken the form of really bad traffic, a clogged toilet, a lingering cold. Gee, I wanted to say. If that's what satanic attack looks like to you, you lead a truly blessed life.

We will go to the funeral on Sunday. Sabrina really wants to go, so I will dig out my waterproof mascara. And next week, life will start to get back to normal.

For almost all of us, that is. But not for everyone.

MOVIE THOUGHTS: DEFINITELY, MAYBE

I'm a little late posting about Definitely, Maybe, though at least it's still in theatres! (Actually, my kids are seeing more current movies than I am these days -- Jumper, Spiderwick and the like -- good reports on both. Maybe I should get them to post reviews...)

We had to see Definitely, Maybe with Sabrina, because she has been mistaken for Abigail Breslin so many times, yet has never gotten to see her in a movie. (No, we are not letting her see Little Miss Sunshine, much as we love it!)

We were a little worried at first as to whether it was appropriate, because of how the movie starts. Dad (Ryan Reynolds) picks his daughter Maya (Abigail Breslin) at school, where everything is in a turmoil because it was sex education day, and boy, does little Maya have questions. We sort of held our breath at the graphicness of the questions (all in scientific language -- the very sort of thing that will be on the table when Sabrina goes through her own "life choices" class next spring). Fortunately, the story veered away from this quickly, but it was touch-and-go for a moment there.

After the "are-they-really-talking-about-this?" shock of the opening, Definitely, Maybe settles down into a comfortable groove. Maya, daughter of divorce and at her dad's for tonight, can't sleep after the sex ed class. She knows Dad is unhappy and gets him to walk through his relationship history to figure out why. He tells her the story of the loves of his life with the names changed, so she has to guess who her mom is.

It's not a particularly fresh idea. How I Met Your Mother has been doing this for several years now, and there's a movie in development (I forget the title) which uses a bride's walk down the aisle to flashback through her romantic history with us finally learning which guy she chooses at the end.

It works pretty well, and the movie is overall quite amiable. Not laughingly funny. Not achingly romantic. Just amiable. But at least it doesn't need the weird set-up (loss of memory, magic, on separate coasts, whatever) that so often drive romantic comedies these days. It's moderately smart, and Abigail is adorable. (And she even sounds like Sabrina at times in the movie, which sort of freaks me out. Your mileage may vary.)

The biggest problem with the movie is the fact that there are three romantic heroines to choose from, which means that the chemistry we so long for in romances never really gets to build. When we learn who Dad is really in love with (the title is the big clue in this), we don't care all that much. How much of this is lack of chemistry between the actors, how much is the guessing game nature of the plot, and how much is the soft, amiable nature of the story? Well, it's hard to tell.

But it was nice. And Sabr-- I mean, Abigail is cute as all get out. So do I recommend it? Definitely... maybe.