I’ve decided to do a series of posts that will cover the entire span of making a web series. A lot of this advice will go a long way in helping you create an independent film as well, so, enjoy and hopefully it’s helpful!
Today’s topic: The Script.
The web series, much like a film or TV show, starts with a story idea.
THE STORY
The story idea has to be many things. It has to be interesting, it has to be sellable and it should be easily said in one sentence.
Interesting: Always ask yourself — okay, but why would someone watch that? Not would you personally watch it (though that’s important too) — but would others? Would your target audience like it (again, think of the target audience as someone other than you)?
For example: a story idea about a guy who’s in love with a girl and then he like, can’t get her, so then he like, sends her letters and tries and then stuff happens. Okay. But why do we care? Because (this is a freebie, you can all take this one), the girl is an alien and holds inside her the key to the universe (her ovaries). See? Easy. I also find that adding minorities helps.
Sellable: Internet video is like a wildly disorganized pile of 3rd grade arts and crafts projects. Somewhere in the stack, a few creepy genius kids have created brilliance — but you’ve really got to sort through the other work. And there’s a lot of other work. And it’s just so, so bad. How do you make yours stand out? Look at what you’re trying to do and find professional high-caliber shows. What do they do? How do they stand apart? Think like an agency or a marketing team. It’s really, really hard to market a show about someone who kills puppies with hammers unless you’ve got Will Smith starring, and even then, it’s risky. What makes your fruit shinier than the others?
One Sentence Description: If you can’t describe it in one sentence, it’s probably too complicated. “A boy goes back in time to save his friend.” Good. “A boy goes back in time to save his friend because his friend just invented a time machine but then gets shot and so now the boy has to use the time machine to help his friend but it accidentally sends him further back than he intended and he has to figure out a way to return. It’s really really good, please watch it.” Bad.
THE OUTLINE
My brother and I tend to structure a season like we’d structure a film script — into three acts. In fact, the three act structure can and should be applied to everything: a scene, an act (three acts in an act, baby!), a full episode, a full season.
Using Break a Leg as an example, we originally intended it to be 22 episodes (hiiigh hopes, we had, hiiiigh hopes). Episodes 1-7 were going to be Act I: where David Penn attempts to make his show despite a thousand setbacks. Episodes 8-16 were going to be Act II: David Penn making his sitcom and dealing with fame. Episodes 17-22 were Act III: The plot introduced in Episode 1 — with David Penn going to die — is brought back, with the last few episodes dealing with all the things related to his death.
We never did Act II and III — but Act I is basically Break a Leg, Season 1.
Aside from structuring your season, get to know your characters. Write out a description of your leads, figure out where their lives start in Episode 1 and where they end up in the finale. Remember, every character (like every episode and every season) should have an arc. They should not be the same from Point A to Point B unless they’re boring or their stagnation is on purpose.
THE SCRIPT
I’ll try to keep this short.
A three-act structure works like this:
The Central Question: You have a central question that asks a yes or no answer — this is the entire idea of your show/screenplay/whatever. Will the boy be able to come back from the past (Back to the Future)? Will Will Smith & Co. stop the alien invasion (Independence Day)? Will sporty Asian people successfully drift (Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift)?
The central question is key to your script. Everything in your script should be about solving that question, or leading us closer to the answer. It’s what your show/film is about and it should be something you should always keep in mind as you write.
The Beginning: In a screenplay, it’s the first 10-pages. In a 30-minute show, it’s the first 3-5, in a 5 minute webshow? I don’t know. The first 30 seconds. The beginning of a script needs to do a few things: set-up the world, introduce the characters and immediately hook us into the show. Often, the first frame of a film will be an iconic image, other times it’ll be starting right in the action. Whatever it is, your first frame is a little microcosm of your entire film.
Act I: In a film script, Act I is usually page 1-35 or 45 (depending on how long your screenplay is — brevity, however, is the soul of wit. So, you know. Be witty.) In a TV script, it varies (some TV scripts are only two-acts, some are three), in a web series.. I guess the first 2 pages? (If you think about it in percentages, Act I is 30%, Act II is 50%, Act III is 20%, as far as length goes).
Act I has to set up your characters, set up your world further, set up the scenario and end with a turning point.
Act I Turning Point: The Act I turning point happens at the end of Act I and does a few things: reiterates the problem in the central question, changes the action in a different direction, raises the stakes for the character.
Act II: Now that Act I is over and has raised your delicious stakes, Act II is the journey. It’s the development of the main problem, it’s the journey to Mordor, the getting back to the future, the main part of your story. This is also why it’s the longest act.
Act II ends with…
Act II Turning Point: The Act II turning point usually comes in two beats. First, the complete failure of your heroes quest. It’s the moment when all seems lost until… until… the second beat. The last ditch effort. Maybe this will work… It also does the same thing as the Act I turning point — raises the stakes, reminds us of the central question, changes the action into a different direction and sends us flying into Act III.
Act III: The big showdown. The climax. Our heroes going to Mordor and then fighting off the evil flaming eye to finally throw the ring into the lava pit (oh why, oh why didn’t the giant bird just fly them there in the beginning?!) The third act is big, it’s punchy and it’s where you can easily win or lose your audience.
Conclusion: Unless you’re writing Lord of the Rings or AI, you only have one conclusion — the last few pages. Where you tie it all together and leave your characters either happy, sad, or dead.
And that — in a longer blog post — is how you write a script.
Feel free to ask me any questions about this. I was a screenplay reader for 2 years and this was generally my job. If I amass a few questions, I’ll write a blog post answering them, so, comment and ask away! And happy writing!
Last month I mentioned that I was writing a script for the show Temp Life. Temp Life was created very early on in the history of the web series and was also one of the very first shows to actually be sponsored and make money. That wasn’t only something new and different then, it’s kind of something new and different now.
The latest episode (or series of episodes, or really, miniseries) of Temp Life is the bridge to their next season, which, if all goes well and Mr. Wilson Cleveland wishes it so, I will be writing (along with him) as well. The miniseries is shot by the guys who did the Hayley Project and features numerous guest stars (even Mr. Thom Woodley, creator of The Burg — which means you can now play 7 degrees of web show separation when you and your friends are really, really, really, really bored.)
So, without further ado, the trailer for the miniseries of Temp Life:
I haven’t had much time updating the website lately as we’ve been swamped with a variety of things that I will, more or less vaguely, share with you, along with some tips/lessons learned while doing them.
1. We’re going to release the press release about our Break a Leg network deal ideally next week.
Lesson: I don’t have one here yet… something about PRwire.com. I guess the real lesson here is get a network deal. Come on already.
2. We’re in casual talks with a comic book company to potentially create a Break a Leg graphic novel in exchange for us shooting a pilot of one of their popular web comics. While all involved are very excited to be involved, we’re still chatting and plotting and talking and hoping that it’ll all happen — but, as with all things in this business, it can always fall through. I’ll keep you all updated.
Lesson: The Natives were big on bartering — it’s a pretty important tool in filmmaking too. It’s how we’ve gotten locations, it’s how we’ve gotten favors, it’s how we may get this comic book made. Just remember, contrary to what everyone says about show business, being a douchebag is not a good thing. Be good, be smart, hold to your word, and scratch people’s backs as vigorously as they scratch yours.
3. We’ve been pitching things to companies as well as shooting promos, etc. for other companies. We recently received our first check as an official business — Happy Little Guillotine Films, LLC — and oh, did it feel good. I do not at all mind shooting commercials, etc. on the side while pursuing more creative ventures. It beats the hell out of filing.
Lesson: No matter what you’re doing, do it well, do it fast, and treat it as seriously as you would your own passion project. It’s not always easy but it’ll often pay off in the form of more jobs — people can tell when you’re committed.
4. We’re writing the script to a new show. I know some of you were expecting Lurker — right now it’s shelved for a new project. It won’t be a web series the way you know web series to be and if all goes well, it’ll change the genre completely (hiiiigh hopes, we’ve got, hiiigh hopes). We’re also pitching the idea to various places for financial support, celebrity guest stars and so on and so forth. So if you’re any of those, you know, let me know.
Lesson: Don’t listen to anyone who says, “It’s not the way things are done.” As an artist, it’s your job to ignore those people and do things your way — it’ll fail a lot but it sure is worth it when it pays off.
5. We’re talking to a DVD company about releasing a Break a Leg DVD — but we’re still shopping around for someone to really help us with distribution. If you or anyone you know does anything related to DVD-distribution, let me know!
Lesson: Buy Blockbuster.
That’s all for now! More updates soon — and Thomas Koch, you gave me an idea for a series of blogs with behind-the-scenes pictures of our various shoots. So, I’ll be starting that up as soon as my very busy and very tired editors get me those things.
So, remember the laundromat/lesbian story? It happened for the videos below. The amazing Blip.tv got us a job filming three short “spots” for Chili’s announcing their new contest and poking fun at their famous song.
The videos are below… kind of. The Chili’s advertisement that starts it isn’t ours — watch that, then watch until around the 15th second of the video and you’ll see a Chili’s advertisement — click it, and you can see all three videos.
A pie for anyone who can name all the Break a Leg characters in it…
Enjoy:
P.S. I’m having some issues with some comments getting spammed — so if your comment disappeared, I apologize! Trying to fix it. Thanks!
You know what makes a good writer? Learning to write really, really good.
Nowadays, it seems like everybody’s a writer. Seriously. The guy who opened my bank account is writing a film script and I’m not even living in LA (I imagine it’s a hard-hitting drama about why I should get overdraft protection). The old joke that in Los Angeles everyone has a screenplay is now globally true — with the freedom of the Internet, anyone can do anything. And do it badly.
When did writing a script become as easy as scrambling eggs? When did crafting a story become the least important aspect of crafting a story?
For two years I worked as a screenplay reader. I must have read over 200 scripts — I can name 4 that were good. I believe it was two sci-fi films, one horror and one comedy (written by Simona Antonova — at 16, she out-wrote the hundreds of scripts I’ve read over the years. That, ladies and gentlemen, is talent). 4 scripts. Out of 200.
What’s my point? My point is that just because we have the freedom to create, doesn’t mean we get a pass on learning how to actually do it. It’s how San Francisco thinks that good theater is transsexuals talking about transexuality and good art is bad art because expression is expression and who are you to hate my expression, despite its significant inexpressiveness?
It’s an insult to people who dedicate their lives perfecting a craft. To people who, at the sake of just about everything, go into a career where, potentially, they will never, ever succeed. It’s an insult to artists.
So, here’s what I suggest. If you’re starting a new project, be it a film, a TV show, a web series, whatever — you have to do one of the three things below:
Thing 1 — figure out if you’re a writer and if you’re worth a damn.
I’ve published three plays that have been performed all over the world, I’ve written for a small network, I’ve created a fairly successful web series that has had amazing reviews in huge publications and I’ve survived (barely) as a freelance writer for a few years now. And yet, when people ask me what I do, I hesitate before I tell them. Why? Because Sorkin is a writer, because Woody Allen is a writer, because Shakespeare was a writer, and that’s not a club I necessarily see myself drinking tea with.
What I’m saying is, you know you’re a writer when you realize what it takes to be one. You know you’re a writer when after the 17th draft of something, you love it, and then a week later you hate it and start rewrites again. You know you’re a writer when you spend way too much time making sure a sentence has the exact amount of words to achieve maximum poignancy/comedy and then, a month later, re-read it and hate not just the sentence but the whole script.
Okay, maybe it’s a sign of being a neurotic writer — but you get my point. You’re a writer when your everything — your focus, your drive, your desire — is to write.
And even then — it’s a long path to being able to nod your head resolutely and say, “Yep, I’m a writer.”
Thing 2 — if you’re not a writer, find a writer.
If you realized you’re the only one who enjoys your scripts — find someone who’s better. Judge them from their scripts, their resume, their drive and then judge them again. As much as I dislike the impenetrable wall that is the agent’s office, I get it — there are so many awful writers who talk loudly and carry a tiny stick that you have to protect yourself from the countless amount of awful that throws itself your way.
So, find a good writer, hammer out a good script and you’re halfway there.
Thing 3 – if you’re not a writer, and can’t find someone to write for you, learn to do it.
It’s not easy, but it’s something — if you have a knack for it — you can learn. Read as many screenwriting books as you can. Don’t take it all verbatim, but learn structure, learn how stories are put together and for the love of God, learn how to properly format a script.
Read other screenplays — professional ones — and see how they do things. You can read many of these for free online.
Watch TV shows, movies — anything that you love. Aaron Sorkin doesn’t know it yet but he’s my mentor. So is Woody Allen, and Neil Simon, and David Ives, and countless, countless others.
Write, write, write, write, write, write, write and when you’re done, keep writing, writing, writing, writing. If you want to truly be good at something, it has to become your life.
And that’s about it.
Every film, every show, every video has its own world and while the director, actor, cinematographer and editor help craft it, its God is the writer and the absolute last thing anyone wants to be is a lousy God.
Now go write something.
…and feel free to ask me any questions right here on my blog.
I’ve fallen behind on posting the Twatif videos we made, but there are two new ones up and I figure that today, today you deserve something that isn’t an angry rant about the state of the web series.
Instead, we’ll make fun of Twitter and Facebook.
Enjoy! Tell me what you think and pass it on, boys and girls!
and…
You get 5 virtual cookies for any Break a Leg actor you can name!
I wasn’t always a writer — and until college, it was never my intent. Oh, sure, I’d attempt to scribble entire novels on tiny notepads to mimic my brother’s writing prowess, but I never actually considered myself a writer.
In college, I sort of fell into it (a story for another blog) and started doing more and more of it to surprising success.
In college is also where I met Carla Zilbersmith — my drama teacher. Carla was the kind of mentor that either helped you along or bashed you in the face over and over again until you either gave up or screamed at her and did it anyway (I was the latter… though there was never screaming, just quiet fuming, and man, did I learn a lot from it). But she was my mentor and the first person that really validated my writing. Before then, I never considered myself a writer, but she did everything she could to push me that way. In short, if it wasn’t for Carla, I would’ve never had the success I’ve had (you can read more about this in an old posting on the Break a Leg site).
She was also a damn good acting and improv teacher so, you can thank (or blame?) my AMAZING acting in Break a Leg partly on her.
Anyway, here’s my point. Carla was diagnosed with the incurable Lou Gherig’s Disease (ALS) a few years ago — which, according to Carla, sucks, because she’s always hated baseball.
Have I mentioned Carla’s hilarious and has the blackest humor ever? I’m not the only one that thinks so, as documentary director John Zaritsky — an Academy Award winning director, I may add — has shot a feature doc with Carla called, “Leave Them Laughing.”
The film is amazing, Carla’s amazing and I want to do everything I can to support her and the production. And I implore you, dear readers, to do the same. A talented artist and a true artist, Carla is one of the most inspiring people I’ve met — she doesn’t try to be inspiring (she tries to be more offensive) but, she pulls it off anyway.
You can follow all the news about Carla and the film there as well as donate money to the film and to helping find a curse for one of the most awful diseases out there (second only to GINGIVITIS!).
“There will be a second Dr. Horrible Sing-Along Blog, Joss Whedon said in a Thursday conference call with reporters to promote Dollhouse. The main question, he says, is whether he does it “on a shoe string again” or goes bigger budget and “invites other people into the process.” Either way, he promises that it won’t affect the storyline.”
Great news! Now internet shows are successful! Right? I mean, if Joss Whedon can do it, surely anyone can?
Okay, so maybe not. But, I have an egomaniacal idea for Joss Whedon and I think you should all help me out with it:
The Guild was doing well before Joss Whedon, but after Dr. Horrible, Felicia Day became the unofficial Queen of the Web Series. So, here’s my proposition…
Joss, I haven’t acted in a Hollywood TV show, so I need some help. Break a Leg was one of the original internet series and, well, it’s like, really funny and I’m almost positive that if you took a second out of shooting Dollhouse and watched it, you’d probably love the hell out of it. Probably. Joss. Are you listening? I really think you’d be quite into it.
So, I’m asking you to use your significant powers and once again reach your hand into the messy drawer that is online entertainment world and pull me out (because I’m adorable), and cast me (king me.).
Because, see, Joss (Joss, pay attention!) — you’ve sort of made yourself a God in this space. You’re the successful one, you have the power to pick your Jesus and, frankly, I’m a Jew and I’ve put at least two computer tables together by myself (get it? Carpenter? Expect that kind of wit on set, Joss).
Honestly, Joss, I think it’d be entirely wrong for you to completely fill out the cast with Hollywood actors. They’ve got the work, and Felicia Day is dead (in Dr. Horrible, I think she’s still alive in real life) — I think I’m the rightful heir. Hell, I’ve even got a Felicia Day wig.
Can I sing? Well, not really. But, you know, I’ll figure it out and you’ll get the added bonus of being an incredibly cool guy whose casting web hopefuls into your web dynasty and elevating the importance of internet TV.
So, in short — Joss Whedon, cast me in Dr. Horrible, Part 2. I promise to impress you.
Okay?
Okay.
Just don’t cast those Burg guys — I hear they eat babies.
Here’s my email: yuribaranovsky@gmail.com
Friends, fans, enemies — feel free to bombard Joss with links to this blog.
You want to know the frustrations of a filmmaker? Here we go.
Here’s my day today:
-Meeting with agent. It went generally well but — if you’re not patient in this business, you’re probably going to stab yourself at some point. It took a few months for he and I to connect and we connected only for him to ask for a few script samples. I’m fine with it, I just — god, I hate the wait and I wish that my resume and experience spoke for themselves. I feel like they do, but… apparently not? If any agents are reading this, email me — I’m very funny.
-As I mentioned previously, we need to export, up-res and consolidate all of our videos unto one hard drive. To export, it takes like 4-5 hours — we have 67 videos. We’re using our friend’s work and his 10 computers to get them all ready (keep in mind, this has to be received in another country [HINT] by Tuesday) and today was the day we were gonna be done with them.
Here’s our little problem: One of the hard drives broke. No one can pick them up. Our friend who’s letting us use his work is leaving for the weekend (we need this mailed Saturday) and it’s increasingly hard for anyone with technical know-how (not me) to get to the office.
Why would the HD break? I don’t know. Why is everyone I know suddenly the busiest they’ve ever been? I’m not sure. But, that’s the luck of the filmmaker. Either you get lucky and snag a cowboy town, or your hard drives break for no real reason at the very moment you need them most. It’s like how printers will work for years… until your final is due — then, all of a sudden, there’s some kind of error you’ve never heard before and every Kinkos employee is on strike.
So, in about an hour, I’m going to head to San Rafael — an hour bus ride from my house — to try and grab the HD, as our friend is currently consolidating the vids all by himself (while also doing the work he actually has to do for his company). The idea is that it’ll all be done and none of the files will be corrupted or broken…
…except, if you’re a filmmaker, you’ll know that they’ll be both. And the building will be on fire. And the hard drive will be allergic to my Jewish fingers.
Fun day!
-New thing! I just found out we may have gotten a quick shooting gig for a company… except we’d have to do it this weekend — along with checking 60 continuity scripts, mailing the hard drive and finishing the Twitter videos.
Okay, I’m not sure if this blog makes any sense or is well-written at all but that’s your update for today. I’ll let you know how it all goes sometime… soon.
In the meantime, wish me luck and hope that I survive this weekend!
Today’s blog is going to be a quick one — this is partly because I have almost no time to write and partly because Liz Shannon Miller is too busy carving Yuri-shaped pumpkins and then eating them (for their soul) rather than responding to my response on the web series business.
Or maybe she doesn’t want it to become an endless back and forth which never really gets solved because, really, there isn’t much of a solution, is there? Until I think of one. Which I will — but I’ll get into that later.
Right now, a quick rundown of the week:
-I have a meeting with an agent tomorrow. An agent at a big agency. I’ve been trying to get an agent for like, 3 years, and most of them don’t respond while others respond for a little while then, I imagine, get murdered or something because it’s the last I hear from them. Anyway, I have a phone meeting with an agent tomorrow and I need you all to cross your fingers and send me good wishes.
Except Liz, who I only ask to make a smaller pumpkin and title it, “Yuri’s agent” — and then eat both of us.
I might be very happy or very bummed out tomorrow — I’ll chronicle either one, ’cause that’s just the thing of this thing.
-I’m going to be at the Twestival SF on Friday night — say hi if you’re there and you see me. I’ll be dressed like Justin Kan from JustinTV. Our production company, Happy Little Guillotine Films, is donating a 30-second promo for their silent auction. This makes me happy — it’s a bit of extra work and we’re already swamped, but the money goes to charity and I like helping people — especially kids. Though, the kids we help are required to wear Break a Leg shirts after we help them (good investment, right?)
-Speaking of Twitter — we’re almost done with our Twitter videos. They turned out quite fun. If the company is cool with it, I’ll make sure to post them here.
-I’m going to be writing a couple of scripts for a web series that isn’t of my own creation. It’s a good, quick gig and a good show, so — stay tuned for more news on that.
-I saved the best for last: we got the contract from the network! Woo! It’s signed and there aren’t any added clauses like they’ll own us (we did have to sacrifice our camera guy in their CEOs name, but, whatever), so, good! We now wait for all of our videos to export — which is taking 4-5 hours per video, for 67 videos total. Our friend, Sam Long — the best person in the whole universe — is letting us use his work’s ten computers to get it all ready.
The due date is September 15th — hopefully, we’ll have it all done and I can start announcing the news as early as this month!
Okay, I’m off to eat, play hockey, and look through 60 continuity scripts for errors.
I’ve decided to do a series of posts that will cover the entire span of making a web series. A lot of this advice will go a long way in helping you create an independent film as well, so, enjoy and hopefully it’s helpful!
Hey, guys!