I was 22 and wrote a short film that I thought was going to be my masterpiece. A producer saw the script and said “This should be a movie!” We met for coffee and he came with a contract for an option agreement. I always wanted to sign an option agreement, it would be a sign that I’m a ‘real writer’.
The option was for 5 years, and the total I would be paid was zero pounds (in dollars, that’s zero dollars).
I signed it, because I was 22 and stupid. The film never got made but before that I spent a whole year working with the producer who got me to completely rewrite the idea (which was originally about a superhero who only works at night, but by the end of our collaborative process it was about a guy with Alzheimer’s). I had succeeded in completely giving up all of my creative instincts to try please this guy. Awful.
18 years later…
I get two emails in the same week, one from a broadcaster in the UK (you’ve heard of them), and one in the USA (you know them as well). They say they love the comedy material I’ve been putting out on Instagram, and would I like to make something for them?
I say yes to both, and then we talk about budgets.
The British guys say they’ll look into it, and the Americans say they’ll get back to me.
Neither happens.
Eventually I follow up, but the Brits had moved on to other options, and the Americans ghosted me.
Months later; a huge sporting organisation get in touch, they invite me to an event — say they’ll pay travel and hotel. I say “Yes please!”.
Then they say, “oh, we just need you to film a few of your comedy sketches at the event.”
I say that my comedy sketches require me to write material, hire actors, and then spend numerous days editing. I explain I’ll need a budget for that, they say “sorry we can’t do that.”
It’s 2012, a producer of horror films decides to produce my low-budget dramedy.
The producer said he loved my work and that he could put the project together.
We cast the film. I announced it everywhere.
Turns out, producing a drama with a bit of comedy doesn’t have the same audience as a tacky horror film. The producer couldn’t make it work. There were other interpersonal issues between us, we weren’t a good fit. But he tried.
That film never happened.
The Sitcom Pilot.
I wrote a sitcom pilot that would star a known stand up comedian (if you’re English you know him, if you’re American, maybe not).
The stand-up came to rehearsals, a little nervous, but a great guy, eager to do more screen acting.
But the director was crazy! She instantly fell out with the comedian due to her abrasive nature. The comedian would look to me for support, for understanding. I tried to give him some, but I knew I had to stay out of the way of the director.
And then during the shoot, I was walking across the set, and the comedian stopped me and said “does this line in the script mean he’s angry?”.
“Yeah, he’s a bit angry. But more than anything, he’s just a little frustrated,” I said.
Minutes later, the director tells the comedian to play it “more angry.” The comedian mentions that I had said it could also be seen as frustration.
Well, the director then displayed both anger and frustration. Utterly offended that the writer had offered a direction to the actor.
Honestly, I agreed with her. I’d over-stepped. But this director was burning bridges throughout the entire project. With no interpersonal skills, and no sense of comedy, the piece was completely falling apart. The comedian had asked me a question which I knew the answer to, so I gave it to him. I shouldn’t have, I normally wouldn’t, but on that occasion, it happened.
The show never saw the light of day. Good, because it definitely wasn’t funny.
This industry is full of near misses.
I have dozens more stories like this. Luckily, I often forget that they ever happened.
There’s a great speech from Mark Duplass, where he talks about how ‘the cavalry aren’t coming’. If you’re waiting for someone to give you your big break, it’s unlikely to happen.
Instead, you need to keep going. Keep creating your own stuff. Every now and then, a huge broadcaster might get in touch. Or a producer will ask you to sign a contract. Perhaps a known actor or comedian will champion your work.
But none of those things mean it will work out.
So what do you do?
You start again.
I always assume that nothing will ever happen. I'll never get the part. The project won't go forward. Usually that means that I'm pleasantly surprised if something does happen. A few times I've had things cancel the day before. That hurts. But you know what? Fuck em. The world is full of promises and promises are cheap.