Kenneth Lonergan on writing/directing “You Can Count on Me"

Kenneth Lonergan found success writing screenplays for Hollywood (Analyze ThisThe Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle, and Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York), but he finds satisfaction writing for the theater, where he is able to control what happens to his script.

He maintained that same level of control on his first film as writer/director, You Can Count on Me, which was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Screenplay, won the Sundance 2000 Grand Jury Prize and the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award, the New York Film Critics Circle, the Los Angeles Film Critics Circle, and Writers Guild of America and National Board of Review awards for Best Screenplay of 2001.

What was going on in your career before You Can Count on Me?

KENNETH: I was making a living writing screenplays, doing pretty well, but my main interest was playwriting, which I was doing mostly with the Naked Angels theater company. I had just had my first big break in playwriting, with my play This Is Our Youth. It was very well received, and it bumped me several levels up instantly, which is very unusual. So, I had just become an off-Broadway playwright with some cachet and I was already basically a Hollywood screenwriter of comedies. 

 Why do you use the label "screenwriter of comedies" and not just "screenwriter"?

KENNETH: Because I started out doing comedies and they don't let you do anything that you haven't already done. You send them five dramas and they'll say, "But these are plays." They can't extrapolate. It's like the Supreme Court. There has to be a very clear precedent, or you have no argument at all.

Where did the idea for You Can Count on Me come from?

KENNETH: It came from an assignment that my theater company had given. We were doing an evening of short plays based on the subject of faith and I was poking around for something to write on that topic. I had the idea of this brother and sister. I wrote a ten-minute scene with these characters, which basically was the first step in writing the screenplay. But whenever I say that, I then read that "He adapted it from his own play." But it was, honestly, twelve pages long and it was never meant to be a full-length play. As soon as I thought of it as a larger piece it was immediately a screenplay.

And that scene is still pretty much intact, right, as the first scene where Terry and Sammy meet in the restaurant?

KENNETH: It's that plus the scene at the end. Literally. Minus the note of hope that he expresses when he tries to tell her that he's not going back into the toilet, he actually liked being in Alaska and maybe there's something there for him. Some people have interpreted the movie as him going back into the depths, while other people have noticed that he actually is a tiny bit of a step up from where he started. 

What was it about those twelve pages that made you think you had the beginnings of a feature script?

KENNETH: I loved the characters a lot and I thought the scene was really very good. And when it was performed it was performed really nicely. I just thought there was something very moving about the situation. 

I guess I liked the idea of how crazy she was about him and the whole dynamic of her having more faith in him than he had in himself. Even though she's a little misguided about him, just liking him that much brought him up a little bit. And I liked the idea that they were at such cross-purposes, but also that they liked each other so much. 

Also the idea that they had had this shared tragedy. Her reaction was a sort of blind faith and his reaction was closer to mine, which is that it has no meaning but you have to piece together your own feelings about things like that, because none of the available systems really did it for him. 

I just liked that whole dynamic. I liked her taking care of him and him disappointing her -- all the dynamics between them. I just liked the people a lot.

What was the process of finding the rest of that story and getting to that ending point?

KENNETH: It was one of those rare, all-in-one flashes. I was watching a play which had a little kid in it. I was only partly enjoying the play, so my mind was wandering and I suddenly had the thought, "If she had a little boy who her brother got involved with and then disappointed and became a hazard to, that would be a terrible conflict for her." Immediately I saw a whole arc of a story based on that, which seemed to be very full. Shortly after that, everything else just kept kind of falling in place. 

Once you had the story, how did you proceed? Did you write an outline?

KENNETH: I almost never do an outline. I've done outlines for assignments and even then I think I've only done them twice. I have nothing against them, I just don't usually work that way. 

For You Can Count on Me, I split the lunch scene up, because I knew that the last part of the scene would be the last part of the movie.

I had, at one point, a whole different ending. Originally the last scene was going to be the scene with Sammy and the little boy at the kitchen table. But then, once it was all written, I realized that it should really end with the brother and the sister. So I made that adjustment.

Since you don’t do an outline, do you have other methods of gathering your thoughts before you write?

KENNETH: I take a lot of notes in my little notebook. I try to write down any thought I have about the movie or I'll write a little scrap of a scene in the notebook and I'll always refer back to that. So I ended up taking a lot of notes. 

Were you always planning on directing this script?

KENNETH: Yes. I wouldn't have written it if I wasn't planning to direct it.

Did that change the way you wrote it?

KENNETH: Completely. I had been aware of what professional screenwriting was like in Hollywood many years before I got into it. I got into it only to make money, because I knew there was no creative protection. 

This was the first screenplay that I ever wrote the way I would have written a play, meaning putting my heart and soul into it. Every other job I'd done, including the spec script for Analyze This, I definitely did as good a job as I could, but I wrote knowing that the script would be destroyed. I wouldn't have written You Can Count On Me if I'd known it would be destroyed. I wouldn't have written it if I wasn't planning to direct it and I knew the only way to protect it was to direct it.

I knew that if it was an independent movie that I would have a fairly good chance of controlling the material. I also knew that I wouldn't do it if I couldn't control the material. 

Did you think about budget concerns at all while you were writing?

KENNETH: No, I didn't. There's no call for anything expensive in the story anyway. I might have thought about it a little bit in the periphery of my mind, but not really. I knew it would be cheap.

Did you tweak the script after it was cast?

KENNETH: The only thing I changed in production was I did a little bit of cutting and re-wrote the last scene a little bit, because I felt it wasn't clear what Terry’s feeling was about going away. 

How do you know when a script is done?

KENNETH: It feels right. I always feel that the ending must be at least as good as the rest of the movie. If the ending isn't great, I feel like it's not a successful endeavor. And then if there's nothing else that I can work on and improve, then I basically leave it alone. You can always futz around with it, but unfortunately there's a certain point when I start rewriting it where I start making it worse. Thankfully, I think I've learned to identify that point and then I leave it alone.

How do you know when you’ve reached that point of diminishing returns?

KENNETH: When you get out of the groove of it, I really think it's dangerous to mess around with it too much. I tend to rewrite myself a lot as I'm going, but not endlessly. 

I find that a lot of writers are too ready to rewrite stuff, which is dangerous because they just get lost instantly. I know I do. New writers are way too eager to take other people's comments and show it to everyone and get all the feedback they can get. The feeding frenzy in the movie culture now -- which is to let everyone dive in and anyone can give notes -- I just find it repellant and very bad for the scripts and ultimately for the audience.

The other thing that writers can do is not be self-critical enough. I think you have to be very much on your own side but be very unflinching about noticing when something's no good. You have to be able to step away and step back, basically trusting your own opinion and hoping that if you like it somebody else will.

You Can Count on Me is a textbook example of writing scenes where we learn things about the characters through their actions and not just their words. How did you achieve that?

KENNETH: I always have the actors in mind and when I'm writing, I act out the scene, which includes the behavior. And if the behavior's covering it, then you don't need a line of dialogue. 

The reason that movies stink now is the fixation on everything being clear. Once the studio development people got the idea that they were going to get involved in the emotional lives of the characters is when things really turned to shit, because they have a terror that things won't be clear and they have a list of what every movie has to be about. 

I've never been involved in a movie -- except for Gangs of New York -- in which the comment did not come up at some point that "the character has to learn to believe in himself." Every movie has to be about somebody believing in himself and if it's not that, they have to learn that "it's the heart that you want to pay attention to, not the head." That's another one, which is basically the same thing.

These are people who insist that film is a visual medium, while pounding you to death to write this terrible dialogue which basically, in words, says every single thing that the actors should be doing. People just don't say what they mean all the time. 

Or they don’t say anything at all. I’m thinking of the scene in You Can Count on Me when Sammy is riding in the car with her on-again, off-again boyfriend. She has a moment where she looks at him and you can tell she’s completely reassessing the relationship, but not a word is spoken about it. 

KENNETH: It was very clear that he showed up, he's a good guy, she's been back and forth about him, he's very stoically driving her to get her fuck-up brother out of jail and she sits there and turns and looks at him very thoughtfully. So what are you going to think, except that she's re-evaluating him? Do you need her to say, "You know, Bob, thanks." That stinks.

Plus, she's not sure she wants to do anything about it. She's just re-evaluating. It's a private moment. Do I need to have her call her best-friend and say, "You know, I sat there looking at Bob and thinking, 'You know what ...'" Who needs it? Anybody would look at him and think that, but nobody would say that to him or make that call. And if they did, everyone would cringe with embarrassment. 

I wish writers would hold back a little more. You want to make sure that the audience knows what you need them to know at a certain point for the scene to have the effect that you want, but writers often write what they think should happen. If people would write more of what would happen and just see if it took care of itself, I think it would. 

You don't really need to know anything about the two characters in the lunch scene to have the scene be interesting, because there's so much evident tension. If this went on for a long time and I never gave you any information, that would seem like a bullshit trick eventually. It's a medium that's meant to be acted and not described and when you start saying the subtext, then there's nothing left to act.

Did you learn anything writing You Can Count on Me that you still use today?

KENNETH: Yes, but I didn't learn it enough. In editing the first cut, I thought every scene was very good but the whole thing dragged. The problem was that every scene had a beginning, a middle and an end. So I chopped the beginnings and, more particularly, the endings off every scene and suddenly the story propelled itself from one scene to the next much better. That's because it didn't have 200 little soft resolves. 

So I've been trying to think about writing in sequences instead of scenes, but the truth is I haven't really applied that, because it's very hard for me to judge that on the page. It's something I know can be dealt with in the editing, so I can't say I actually have the faith to write a really short scene.

What's the best advice about writing that you've ever received?

KENNETH: I think it was from Gertrude Stein. I don't remember the quote exactly, but it's someone telling a younger writer who's worried their work is no good. The quote is, "It's not your business whether it's good or bad. Your job is to keep the channel open, because there's only one of you in all of time and if you don't say it, it will never be said. So keep the channel open." I think that is really very, very good advice, because a lot of people sit around fussing whether it's good or not and I personally think that's not really any of your business. It's not helpful.

Is there a real difference between writing for other people and writing for yourself?

KENNETH: Screenwriting for other people is completely different from screenwriting for yourself. I think writers can have more power than they think, if they're keeping it small, but they don't have any power in Hollywood no matter what and every bad thing I described will happen and does. That's all that happens. Occasionally there's an exception. 

Dying to make a feature? Learn from the pros!

"We never put out an actual textbook for the Corman School of Filmmaking, but if we did, it would be Fast, Cheap and Under Control." 
Roger Corman, Producer

★★★★★

It’s like taking a Master Class in moviemaking…all in one book!

  • Jonathan Demme: The value of cameos

  • John Sayles: Writing to your resources

  • Peter Bogdanovich: Long, continuous takes

  • John Cassavetes: Re-Shoots

  • Steven Soderbergh: Rehearsals

  • George Romero: Casting

  • Kevin Smith: Skipping film school

  • Jon Favreau: Creating an emotional connection

  • Richard Linklater: Poverty breeds creativity

  • David Lynch: Kill your darlings

  • Ron Howard: Pre-production planning

  • John Carpenter: Going low-tech

  • Robert Rodriguez: Sound thinking

And more!

buy the book: "fast, cheap and under control"

Write Your Screenplay with the Help of Top Screenwriters!

It’s like taking a Master Class in screenwriting … all in one book!

Discover the pitfalls of writing to fit a budget from screenwriters who have successfully navigated these waters already. Learn from their mistakes and improve your script with their expert advice.

"I wish I'd read this book before I made Re-Animator."
Stuart Gordon, Director, Re-Animator, Castle Freak, From Beyond

John Gaspard has directed half a dozen low-budget features, as well as written for TV, movies, novels and the stage.

The book covers (among other topics):

  • Academy-Award Winner Dan Futterman (“Capote”) on writing real stories

  • Tom DiCillio (“Living In Oblivion”) on turning a short into a feature

  • Kasi Lemmons (“Eve’s Bayou”) on writing for a different time period

  • George Romero (“Martin”) on writing horror on a budget

  • Rebecca Miller (“Personal Velocity”) on adapting short stories

  • Stuart Gordon (“Re-Animator”) on adaptations

  • Academy-Award Nominee Whit Stillman (“Metropolitan”) on cheap ways to make it look expensive

  • Miranda July (“Me and You and Everyone We Know”) on making your writing spontaneous

  • Alex Cox (“Repo Man”) on scaling the script to meet a budget

  • Joan Micklin Silver (“Hester Street”) on writing history on a budget

  • Bob Clark (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”) on mixing humor and horror

  • Amy Holden Jones (“Love Letters”) on writing romance on a budget

  • Henry Jaglom (“Venice/Venice”) on mixing improvisation with scripting

  • L.M. Kit Carson (“Paris, Texas”) on re-writing while shooting

  • Academy-Award Winner Kenneth Lonergan (“You Can Count on Me”) on script editing

  • Roger Nygard (“Suckers”) on mixing genres

This is the book for anyone who’s serious about writing a screenplay that can get produced! 

Buy the Book: “Fast, Cheap and Written That Way”

Kasi Lemmons on writing and directing “Eve's Bayou"

As you watch this beautiful movie, it's occasionally hard to believe that Eve’s Bayou is a film from a first-time feature director working from her first solo screenplay. It’s an assured and ambitious and emotionally satisfying story of life in the South in the early sixties, following young Eve (Jurnee Smollett) during a life-defining summer. 

Writer/Director Kasi Lemmons (best-known to filmgoers as Ardelia in The Silence of the Lambs) deftly mixes Southern gentility, voodoo and magic, and a touch of Rashômon-style story-telling to present the sometimes-comic, sometimes-tragic events of that summer from a child’s unique perspective. 

What was going on in your life and your career before you came to write Eve's Bayou?

KASI LEMMONS: I had been an actor for a long time. I'd done a couple of plays with really good companies, Naked Angels and Steppenwolf, and then I went to film school. When I got out of film school, I had a short film that was festivaling around, called Fall from Grace. And then I did Silence of the Lambs and moved to Los Angeles. 

What I really wanted to do was to write the perfect role for myself. To write the perfect part. If you could write a perfect part for yourself, what would it be? So I wrote the character of Mozelle for me to play when I got a little bit older.

Also it was very much an experiment in a certain type of language and a certain writing style. It was very ambitious. I knew what I wanted to do, but it was more of an experiment. And then when I was finished with it, I showed it to Vondie Curtis-Hall, who was my boyfriend at the time, and he said, "You've got to show this to somebody else." He was the person who said, "You can't put it in a drawer. You have to show it to somebody."

Where did the idea for the story come from?

KASI LEMMONS: I remember the first time I told any story from Eve's Bayou was at an audition. The casting director didn't want to see a scene from the show. He wanted us to talk. So I started spinning Eve's Bayou stories. I talked about my aunt who had gotten married five times and all of her husbands had died. That was true. The more fantastical parts of the story are true.

I wrote that story down as a short story and I wrote some other short stories. One was about two little kids, a brother and sister, who go and look in their grandmother's room. It talks about all of her medicines and the way in which her room was very evocative. And then another was about Eve and Jean Paul Batiste and how a bayou came to be named after this slave who saved her master's life with voodoo and witch-doctoring. So I had all these stories, but they weren't really connected. There was some connection in my mind, but I hadn't found it yet. 

Then I invented the character of Louis Batiste for the stories to revolve around. Way before I wrote anything down I could tell you the entire story of Eve's Bayou, the entire thing complete with flashes of lightning. I could tell you the whole movie. I had it all in my head.

How long did it take you to get it out of your head and onto paper?

KASI LEMMONS: From the time I could tell it all the way through, maybe a year.

I was in therapy at the time and I was very conflicted about what to do with my life, how to approach the next step, the next phase of my life. My therapist said, "You really need to take this pilot season off, don't audition for anything and write that story that you keep telling me about." So basically, my therapist told me to stay home for a few months and write it down and that's what I did.

Were you thinking about budget at all while you wrote?

KASI LEMMONS: I wrote it as a literary experiment. So, I wasn't thinking about anything other than wanting to get this story down on paper. As a matter of fact, when I first started writing it, I thought it might be a book. And then I ended up writing it as a screenplay and I had the idea of playing the role of Mozelle. But I wasn't really sure if it was going to turn into a book or a screenplay or what was going to happen with it. I just let it come out. I wasn't thinking about budget and I wasn't thinking about directing it at all. 

Once you had a draft done, how did you get feedback?

KASI LEMMONS: I have a select group of people who read every script. There are about five of them. They are the most critical people I know. I process their comments carefully. They usually don't agree on many things, so I look for the things they all agree on. If five people tell you something is bothering them, then maybe you need to look at that. I take what somebody says and try to see what resonates with me or if they say something that I've been thinking already.

What was it that made you decide to direct it?

KASI LEMMONS: I took a bunch of meetings that were a little bit frightening to me. I started to realize that I'd written a very delicate piece of material that could be misinterpreted very easily. In fact, it was just as easy to misinterpret it as it was to interpret it the way I intended. I took some scary meetings where I thought, "Oh God, I'd rather keep it in the drawer than let people interpret it this way." 

My producer kept saying, "What's a sexy idea of a director? Who's sexy?" And I was thinking, "Who's sexy? Who's sexy?" Literally I woke up on my birthday and it was an epiphany. I was like, "You know what? I'm going to direct it."

After that moment I never vacillated. I went to the producer and said, "I went to film school. My short film did really well and I've decided I'm going to direct this." He almost fell off his chair. But he was very supportive. The first thing he said when he recovered from shock was that he wanted to produce a short film for me to see what I could do. Something with a 35mm camera, real crew, the whole thing. And that's what he did. My agent put up half the money and he put up the other half. It was really amazing.

Did you change the script at all once you locked in on a budget?

KASI LEMMONS: At first the Batiste house was reminiscent of my grandmother's house. It had an elevator that went up to the third floor. And the little marketplace/fair where they meet Elzora, the voodoo priestess, was a huge, traveling fair that had a Ferris wheel. I took that out. I took a lot out of it and made it much, much simpler.

Was there anything that you hated to lose?

KASI LEMMONS: There was nothing that I hated to lose until the edit and then I lost something I hated to lose. It was extremely painful. It was a character named Tomy.

A whole character got excised?

KASI LEMMONS: A whole character. He was a member of the family. It was actually a lot of work to cut him out. 

He was a great-uncle who lived in the house. I never explain exactly what's wrong with him, but he's mute. He was modeled after my great-uncle who had cerebral palsy. In the director's cut, he's in a wheelchair and he's actually sitting in the room when what happens between Louis and Cisely happens. So he knows the truth but he can't speak. He was the mute witness and to me it was very beautiful that there was a mute witness in Eve's Bayou. Even though Louis and Cisely remembered it differently, there was actually somebody who knew the truth. 

At the end of the movie, when you see the little girls and they do their scene and they're standing on the bayou, I cut to him on the porch in his wheelchair and he knows what happened. But he can't say.

You did a masterful job of cutting him out.

KASI LEMMONS: He's in the movie, but I would have to freeze frame and point him out to you. There are places where we didn't remove him but you just don't see it, your eye doesn't go there.

What drove the decision to cut this fairly major character out of the movie?

KASI LEMMONS: What drove it was notes from the producer, Mark Amin, who was running Trimark. He hated that character. He hated it from the beginning. It was one of those elephants in the room that doesn't go away. In Eve's Bayou the people are very conspicuously pretty and then there was this older, disfigured person. To me it was beautiful that there was this older, disfigured person who lived in the house, it wasn't just the beautiful people. It was a relative in the house and I thought it was very black and very Southern that there would be some relative that you had to take care of. 

He really didn't like the character and we went back and forth over it. Finally I lost him and it was very painful. My crew made t-shirts with an empty wheelchair that read, "Where's Tomy?" Tomy was my real great-uncle's name so it was a real big deal that we lost that character. But it was something that I had to do and honestly, I'm pretty sure I like the version without Tomy better. It took me a while to come to that point of view. I like my "director's cut" an awful lot, too. But probably the version without Tomy is my favorite.

Once you decided to direct it, did you ever consider also acting in it?

KASI LEMMONS: No. I find directing to be a very, very voyeuristic art form. Almost a perversion. You're really watching other people's intimate moments and trying to get those moments out of them. But I don't think there was ever a question of me wanting to be in it once I decided to direct it.

What was the benefit of your acting background when it came to writing the movie?

KASI LEMMONS: I think the characters are always talking to me. But I think writers are like that whether they're actors or not. Being an actor definitely helped me to hear the characters.

What was the benefit of your acting background when it came to directing the movie?

KASI LEMMONS: I didn't really think that much about it until I saw in the Electronic Press Kit that almost all of the actors said I was a good director because I was an actor. But I hadn't really thought about it until then.

I don't scream direction across the set. I'll go up and talk to an actor intimately. I would treat them the way I would like to be treated, in that it's always, always, always a private conversation so nobody can listen to me direct actors. 

Did you have much rehearsal time?

KASI LEMMONS: I did. I had about two weeks. I used it mostly with the little girls, not exclusively but almost exclusively. I thought that these two little girls have to carry a movie and it's a very complicated movie. Some of it I wondered, was it over their heads? Jurnee Smollett was a very contemporary little girl, so I had to take her back into the 1960s. How you stood and what I thought her body language would be and who I thought Eve was, where the boundaries between Eve and Jurnee were. She's so facile, within three days she was Eve.

Did you do any tweaking of the script in rehearsal?

KASI LEMMONS: No. I think I had gone through about eleven drafts by then, so I was pretty locked on the one that I liked.

Was it much of a struggle for you to get that tone you felt in the script up onto the screen?

KASI LEMMONS: Not really, once the actors nailed the language. The language to me, and I really haven't felt this way with other things that I've written, but the language in Eve's Bayou was like Shakespeare. That's because it started out as a language experiment, so I made them say it word for word. And the words were really important to me. So they had to say it as it was written. Once they nailed the language, that really helped them fall into the tone.

How tough was it for the actors to get that and make those speeches work? I'm thinking in particular of Mozelle's "Life is filled with good-byes, Eve" speech.

KASI LEMMONS: That's my favorite speech. Debbi Morgan's such a wonderful actress. She came in and her audition was wonderful. Wonderful. She really got it. And once she got the words exactly, like, "Well, you musta been thinking something right before you was thinking that, what led you to that particular thought?" Once you could nail the words and you're not improvising on the words, you're saying those exact words, the words help with the character. But she was so wonderful, she was wonderful from the beginning and she understood Mozelle. There was a part of her that was Mozelle.

Did you learn anything writing Eve's Bayou that you're still using today?

KASI LEMMONS: You know, there's an innocence when you write your first script. You don't know what the rules are. It's almost something that's really hard to reclaim. So that's what I'm always trying to get back to, that innocence, to try and be that pure. I don't know that I can ever do it again, but to try and remember to be that unleashed in a way.

What's the best advice you've ever received about writing?

KASI LEMMONS: I'm not sure who gave me this advice, but it's understanding that people usually don't say exactly what's on their mind. There's nothing more tiresome than a script where people say exactly what's on their mind all the time. It's just not the way people talk.

As an actor, you need subtext and intention. You know what the character wants from each scene and you think of them as if they were real people talking in your ear. 

What was the best part of your experience on Eve's Bayou?

KASI LEMMONS: The collaborating. I love collaborating. I like writing, too, but writing's really lonely. You're in a room and you're by yourself and your friends are all going out to lunch and you are stuck with your computer. Directing is a collaborative art. 

One of my favorite things is hiring brilliant people to work around you. And hopefully what you've written has inspired them to want to come work with you. It's like you are plugged into their genius. You're not just relying on yourself. It's not lonely; as a matter of fact, there's a feeling of security in that you've put together a team and they each know how to do their job and you can't live without them. I love collaborating. It's my favorite thing.  

Dying to make a feature? Learn from the pros!

"We never put out an actual textbook for the Corman School of Filmmaking, but if we did, it would be Fast, Cheap and Under Control." 
Roger Corman, Producer

★★★★★

It’s like taking a Master Class in moviemaking…all in one book!

  • Jonathan Demme: The value of cameos

  • John Sayles: Writing to your resources

  • Peter Bogdanovich: Long, continuous takes

  • John Cassavetes: Re-Shoots

  • Steven Soderbergh: Rehearsals

  • George Romero: Casting

  • Kevin Smith: Skipping film school

  • Jon Favreau: Creating an emotional connection

  • Richard Linklater: Poverty breeds creativity

  • David Lynch: Kill your darlings

  • Ron Howard: Pre-production planning

  • John Carpenter: Going low-tech

  • Robert Rodriguez: Sound thinking

And more!

buy the book: "fast, cheap and under control"

Write Your Screenplay with the Help of Top Screenwriters!

It’s like taking a Master Class in screenwriting … all in one book!

Discover the pitfalls of writing to fit a budget from screenwriters who have successfully navigated these waters already. Learn from their mistakes and improve your script with their expert advice.

"I wish I'd read this book before I made Re-Animator."
Stuart Gordon, Director, Re-Animator, Castle Freak, From Beyond

John Gaspard has directed half a dozen low-budget features, as well as written for TV, movies, novels and the stage.

The book covers (among other topics):

  • Academy-Award Winner Dan Futterman (“Capote”) on writing real stories

  • Tom DiCillio (“Living In Oblivion”) on turning a short into a feature

  • Kasi Lemmons (“Eve’s Bayou”) on writing for a different time period

  • George Romero (“Martin”) on writing horror on a budget

  • Rebecca Miller (“Personal Velocity”) on adapting short stories

  • Stuart Gordon (“Re-Animator”) on adaptations

  • Academy-Award Nominee Whit Stillman (“Metropolitan”) on cheap ways to make it look expensive

  • Miranda July (“Me and You and Everyone We Know”) on making your writing spontaneous

  • Alex Cox (“Repo Man”) on scaling the script to meet a budget

  • Joan Micklin Silver (“Hester Street”) on writing history on a budget

  • Bob Clark (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”) on mixing humor and horror

  • Amy Holden Jones (“Love Letters”) on writing romance on a budget

  • Henry Jaglom (“Venice/Venice”) on mixing improvisation with scripting

  • L.M. Kit Carson (“Paris, Texas”) on re-writing while shooting

  • Academy-Award Winner Kenneth Lonergan (“You Can Count on Me”) on script editing

  • Roger Nygard (“Suckers”) on mixing genres

This is the book for anyone who’s serious about writing a screenplay that can get produced! 

Buy the Book: “Fast, Cheap and Written That Way”

Director John Badham on “Wargames” and more.

click here for the podcast version of this interview

Gaspard: So, thank you for talking to me. I could talk about every single movie you've done. But I'm not going to do that. I have focused myself to take principles from the two books, both of which I love, and take some of those principles and see how you applied them in different situations on three different movies. So, just to get some background to make sure I've got the history right, your first TV directing gig was on The Bold Ones, right? The Senator.

Badham: Yes. Yes, that's right.

Gaspard: And then your first TV movie was The Impatient Heart.

Badham: Right, right, yes.

Gaspard: Okay. So, I'm just doing some rough figuring and before you shot Bingo Long, which was your first theatrical feature, you did somewhere between 35 and 50 hours of TV. You had a lot of stuff under your belt before you tackled that theatrical feature, because of all the series you did, and the Made-for-TV movies. So, you were pretty well learned by that point for that first feature. How did that help you on that first one?

Badham: Well, it certainly helped you learn how to prepare things, what you needed to do, and working with actors, getting attuned to working with actors. The mechanical parts of it are fairly easy to learn—

Gaspard: Right.

Badham: —the cameras and lenses and the microphones and the lighting and and stuff like that.

I feel very comfortable just from my years at the Yale Drama School, working in theater where you're doing somewhat analogous things along the way. And then as I was working my way toward directing—once I came to California and was working at Universal—I was able to sneak down to people's sets and meet directors and kind of hang out with them and found an interesting approach. Because, initially, going and hanging out on a set sounds like a lot of fun. And it's good for about 10 minutes and then it is just boring as hell.

And I realized I don't want to, this is boring. What could I do better? And then it came to me: The truck just ran over the director, and I have to do it. What am I gonna do? So I would get hold of the script and try and prepare the day's work roughly, and then come down and be able to watch what the director was doing.

And it didn't matter who was right or wrong. What it did matter was because I had thought it out. I had a basis on which to judge, you know, was it a good idea they were doing, what stuff would I have forgotten? I just learned by watching that that way.

And so, after, four or five years of doing television, I was pretty well versed in a lot of high speed, quick filmmaking for, episodic television in particular. But then the movies of the week, you know, were a nice step in between. There you had a chance, you're still working quickly, but not nearly at the silly lightning pace of the episodic.

Gaspard: So, was the speed at which the features were shot, was that easy to ease into? Or were you always just thinking, why is it going so slowly? Why aren't we going faster? Why, why, why, why?

Badham: Yeah, it seemed to me on, on Bingo Long where they said, well, we're going to shoot this in 38 days. And I thought, 38 days, what am I going to do in the afternoon? Oh my God, I can go home after lunch. We'll get this. Well, little did I know how long camera would take and baseball games to shoot and stuff like that. And the production manager kept telling me, “it's going to be 52 days.” And I said, “No, no, we promised 38, that we would do 38. I'm going to do it.” “No, it's gonna be 52.” Because he was right. It was 52, right on the money.

Gaspard: Yeah.

Badham: He knew it. So, I just had to regear my brain. Same thing on Saturday Night Fever. Same 38 to 52 days, you know, just me getting to understand what that next level up of filmmaking requires. And in terms of the detail of the filmmaking and the careful performances and things like that.

Gaspard: When you look back on, on the hours and hours and hours of, you know, on the job training you had before that first feature … and then you think about directors starting out today, who simply don't have that, getting all that experience is hugely helpful. And I know you've taught for years. What, advice do you have for someone who's diving into a feature for the first time who doesn't have 40 hours, 50 hours of finished TV work under their belt?

Badham: They're in a lot of trouble. That's what the truth is. You know, it's so much harder than it looks. And I see that with my students, with the filmmaking that they come up with. It's really difficult to learn it. And the thing that turned out to be really good in my case and some other friends of mine is that we got a lot of practice and learned how—if we stubbed our toe—it was not the end of the world. That you could get through it, because it is harder than it looks.

And they've got a great, harsh awakening coming for them. You know, I've worked with several cameramen who've become directors. And of that, several, almost all of them, never did it again. It drove 'em crazy, and they were brilliant cameramen. You know, these were top of the line, the best guys in the world. And they said, “oh my God, we're going to get a so-and-so to direct this.” And they hated it, because you had to deal with actors. And they were used to a crew that would just jump: If you, said jump, and you know, how high? Ten feet. They'd jump 10 feet. But the actors are going, “What?” They didn't like that.

Gaspard: That's your special gift I think. You can direct action like nobody's business, but when it comes to getting an actor where you need them to be, I mean, you, straddle both sides really, really nicely. I do want to talk about Isn't It Shocking? I don't know why I know it as well as I did. It must have aired at least twice when it came out. And that's around 1973.

Badham: Right. Yes.

Gaspard: I know that I was a big Harold and Maude fan, so I wanted to see Ruth Gordon in something. But I was really taken by it, and it stayed with me for years and years. And I found it recently on YouTube. You can see the whole thing on YouTube, not a terrible print of it. And some questions came up. First: one of the first credits on it says David Shire did the music. How did that happen?

Badham: I was at Yale when David was there and worked on two musicals that he and his partner Richard Maltby wrote. And, so we were friends from there and I was, you know, excited to be able to bring on a composer. I think it was the first one that he had ever done, the first film he had ever done. I mean, he might've done some low budget things, but my recollection is, that he had been playing the piano for The Fantasticks off Broadway forever and ever. That was his day job.

Gaspard: How did Isn't It Shocking? come to you?

Badham: I think my agent at the time was able to talk two very young producers into taking a look at work that I did, which was at that point, I think. The Impatient Heart was probably what they might have looked at, at that point.

And, it was just a wonderful script, you know, it was just laugh-out-loud reading and so much fun to do. And we shot it really quickly, like in 12 days up in Mount Angel, Oregon.

Gaspard: The casting of it is so terrific. You know, besides Ruth Gordon, you've got Will Geer, you've got Alan Alda, you've got Louise Lasser, you have Lloyd Nolan. I know you kind of started out in casting and you've consistently had really smart casting on all the movies. Do you remember how that cast came together?

Badham: Well, my producers were New York based and they had a great sensibility for actors, like Louise Lasser, who I didn't know at all. Will Geer I certainly knew, and Lloyd Nolan I had worked with. Alan Alda was, you know, we all admired his work and thought we were really lucky to get him right at the end of the MASH season.

Gaspard: Yeah, it looks like was right at the end of the first year of MASH.

Badham: Right. And we were shooting on the lot at Fox where MASH shot any anyway, so I was able to go over visit with him and talk with him and get to know him. But, as I say, my producers were very helpful because they were just into every detail. They were over my shoulder, breathing down my neck in the middle of closeups, you know, “We need more goop on them. We need, this is not goopy enough. “

Gaspard: Goop is very important in that movie that you needed enough goop, because it gets bad when he runs out of the goop,

Badham: It drove me a little bit crazy. And, at one point, as they're whispering in my hair during a take, I call “cut.” I reached for my wallet, pulled out my Director's Guild card and said, “Here, you fucking do it.”

Gaspard: Oh boy. You know, this is at least two or three years before Mary Hartman. So, at that point Louise Lasser is from Bananas and—

Badham: A couple of Woody Allen movies.

Gaspard: Yeah, a couple Woody Allen movies, but not that famous. It felt to me like this could have been a backdoor pilot, that if MASH didn't go, here we have these two wonderful characters of Louise Lasser and Alan Alda solving crimes every week. With, you know—not that Ruth Gordon wanted to do a TV series—but it would've been a fun way to continue those characters. Because they were really charming together.

Badham: They were wonderful. And we forgot about Eddie O'Brien.

Gaspard: Oh, exactly. He looks so upset in that movie. It's hard to watch him sometimes.

Badham: I had seen him in a pilot that Jack Lord was starring in, and he played a bad guy. He had these thick coke bottle glasses on, and he was quite a treat. He was quite a handful. Because he wasn't always very focused and sometimes getting him off, “Okay, that's that shot, now we're going to focus on this shot.” And he's still back in the earlier shot.

Gaspard: Well, you were juggling so many different kinds of acting styles, and that's one of the things that I want to talk about from the book: When you have, you know, in one scene, an Alan Alda, Louise Lasser and a Lloyd Nolan. I'm guessing they're acting styles were a little different, or their approaches were a little different. How do you juggle different techniques when you need to get everybody on the same page pretty quickly?

Badham: It's a real challenge to do that because you have some people that like to rehearse a lot. Some people that don't like to rehearse very much at all. Some people that are good on take one and other people who don't start to get good till four or five. And you're going to find, every single time, you're always going to run up against these disparate characters.

If they haven't worked together a lot, you're now trying to massage. You know, “Am I going to shoot Will Geer first in this scene? Or am I going to wait because he gets better later on?” And if I shoot over his shoulder, he is kind warming up, so when I'm ready to turn around onto him, he's at that good cooking point. He's simmered, you know, he is done. You can stick a fork in him, and it will be all right.

Gaspard: That's invaluable knowledge to have when it comes to planning out your day and your setups.

Badham: Oh yeah. I mean, once you start to get a fix on how the people like to work. I learned once from Jodie Foster—I worked with her when she was very young and we were kind of become friends—and I was asking her how she likes to work with actors. She said, “The first thing I do, is I go up and I ask them how they like to work?”

You know, do you like notes from the director? Do you like to go first? Do want me to let you move, find your own blocking? And just kind of having these conversations lets you know a ton of stuff. Elia Kazan talks about it all the time in his book, saying actors will tell you anything, you've just met them, and they'll tell you their entire life story in a few minutes. And you can learn so much about their acting style, just from the stories that they tell and their perspective on the world. And you're so smart to be able to go and have dinner with 'em a couple of times, to sit with them and just not talk about the business, but just their life and understand, you know, what you may be able to get from 'em.

Gaspard: That’s so smart. Just that idea of, well just ask him. You don't have to pretend to know everything. And that's one of the things you keep coming back to in both books is: don't pretend to know everything. Ask, ask. And that's so smart to just ask them the way they want to do it.

A friend of mine was one of the editors on Veep. And he said it took them a little while in that show to realize that, you know, most things are shot, you do a master and then a closeup, and a closeup and a closeup. And he said it doesn't work on an improv show. You have to do all your closeups first until everyone's sort of settled into what they're going to do. And then you do the master at the end, because that'll match. He said, you do a master up front, it's not going to match anything you're doing. And it's like, well, duh, obviously. But we're so attuned to this idea of, well, you know, you start out and then you move in and move in. They just turned it on its head and went, no, it's got to go the other way. Or the master is just useless.

Badham: Right. Well, those are outrageously funny.

Gaspard: So. speaking of improv, you mentioned I think in one of the books, one of my favorite Ruth Gordon stories. I was lucky enough to meet her when she came through town here in Minneapolis, Harold and Maude played for two and a half years, when I was a teenager. And I got to meet her and Bud Cort and hang out with them a little bit during that time. And in one of the books you talk about, where she came up to you and said, “This line isn't working for me.” And you said something along the lines of, “Well just, you know, say what you want.” And do you remember what her response was?

Badham: Oh yes, absolutely. I said, “Well, Ruth, what would you say?” And she looked me right in the eye, kind of waggled her finger and said, “Oh no. I get paid for that.”

Gaspard: Yeah.

Badham: And she went ahead and said the line as written, the one that she started out complaining about.

Gaspard: A couple more things on Isn't It Shocking? There's one point in it where Alan Alda is walking through, I believe it's Ruth Gordon's home. And you did—for that movie—a pretty long continuous shot. Now you said you shot in, was it 12 days?

Badham: Right.

Gaspard: How risky did you think it was? Maybe you did do coverage on it, we just didn't see it. But when it comes down to setting up shots like that, what are you weighing in your mind when it comes to how much time I have and what I need to get done today, and continuous shots versus a lot of coverage?

Badham: Well, you know, usually the continuous shots, you can get several bits of coverage in the shot itself. And so if you write down the amount of time it takes to do a continuous moving master versus a lot of separate shots, it works out about the same.

Gaspard: Okay.

Badham: It's just a different way. And in that particular shot, if I remember it right, we pick up Alan Alda coming in the front door and then as he's walking through, there are cats hanging everywhere and cats dropping down out of the ceiling onto him. And you could see them hanging on light fixtures. They're all over the place. And I,remember our production manager had an arm full of kittens and he's walking behind the camera, putting them up in all these places and you could see them kind of hanging on by the front paws or whatever it was. It was very funny.

Gaspard: It's a delightful movie. It was crafted in such a way that at least it seemed to me like you had very cleverly gone, “Well, I can get name people because they're only going to be here for a couple days. It's not a big deal.” You know, “I only need Will Geer for a few days,” if you're shooting it that way. “I only need Ruth Gordon for a couple days. I only need Lloyd Nolan for a couple days.” So, it's kind of fun for them, but it's not a huge commitment.

I think a lot of filmmakers don't think that through when it comes to, you know, you might be able—if you're making a low budget, no budget movie—you might be able to get somebody to come in for very little if they like the script. And if it's only going to take a couple days. If they're going to be sitting around for three weeks, well that's a whole different consideration. But if they can have fun for a couple days, that's just a really smart way to write it, I think.

Badham: Yeah, it was nice. It was easy to get to, because we fly 'em up to Salem, Oregon. I think everybody was from LA. I forget where Ruth Gordon was coming from, but that was not bad. And it's a very pleasant area there in Oregon. The air is just fabulous compared to LA air, especially at that time. And, you know, just really, really pleasant. 

Gaspard: Well, if you haven't seen it for a while, it is on YouTube. Give it look. And I think should talk to the producers about getting it out on Blu-ray and you should do a commentary on it. It's just a little lost gem. Okay. Enough on that. We'll move on now to probably my favorite John Badham movie, and that's WarGames. What I was surprised to learn, was that you came into the movie when it was already up and running. Some stuff had already been shot, right?

Badham: Yes. They had shot for maybe a week and a half, I'm guessing.

Gaspard: Okay. And that was Marty Brest who started it and then went away?

Badham: Right. Yes.

Gaspard: Another terrific director, with Midnight Run being one of the best comedies, maybe of all time. So, what do you do in a case like that, when they say, you know, the phone rings and they say, “This movie's up and running. Get up to speed as quick as you can.” What does that mean? How quickly can you get up to speed?

Badham: Well, my agent calls me and says, “There's a picture that they would like you to take over, and I don't think you should do it.” “Why is that?” “Well, it's always when they're in trouble and they have to replace the director, there's, going to be real trouble there in River City, so stay away.”

I said, “But what if it's any good?” And he said, “Well, I don't know.” I said, “Well, I think we should read it.” So, I read it and I said, “This is really wonderful.” And I go in to meet with Paula Weinstein, who was running UA at that time. And after we talked for a while, she said, “When could you start shooting on this?”

And it was about two in the afternoon. I said, “I can walk over there and start shooting right now.” She went, “What?”

I said, “The trouble is, it won't be any good.” She said, “Why not?” I said, “Because I barely read the script. I needed time to, you know, kind of absorb it and get my head wrapped around the thing. I think it's a wonderful script and, and I could do it, but the shots I would be doing would be pretty generic. And that's not what you want. You need something, you know, that is not as dark as Marty was bringing.”

Because I did have a chance to look at the dailies that he had shot and was watching the scene where Matthew Broderick first takes Ally Sheedy up to his bedroom and shows her how he can change her grade on the computer.

And I'm looking at this scene and I'm kind of thinking, “The actors are good. I don't know who these kids are. Photography's wonderful. What's the problem here? Why is it not working?” And then it came to me, they're not having any fun. If I could change a girl's grade on the computer and I was that age of 15, 16, I would be peeing in my pants with excitement, you know? I would not be treating it like we were sixties rebels on the dark web—if there had been such a thing at the time. It's not that at all. It's a kid who's into games and playing. So that was the first thing that I re-shot—I took them right back to that bedroom on the stage.

And it took us, oh my gosh, several takes before we could even get them warmed up. Because Matthew and Ally figured that they were going to get fired any minute too. So, they were terrified of me. And as we kept doing takes, I would just run in there and tell jokes and tickle 'em and do anything to make it, ‘this is light and breezy and we can have fun.’

And so around take 12 or 13—I never do that many takes, but I figured I can't turn in dailies, that look only a little bit better. They've got to be a hundred percent better for the studio to have gone to all this trouble. So, I said to them, I said, “Okay, we're going to have a little break here. We're going to take 10 minutes for coffee. Matthew and Ally, you and I are going to have a race around the outside of the stage, and we'll race around here, and the last person back has to sing a song for the crew.

Gaspard: That was going to be you,

Badham: I knew who that per person was. You know, I'm like 20 years older than them already at that point. I know who's going to lose. And as we get back to the stage, of course I'm last. And I remember this old song that we used to sing in Glee Club in high school called The Happy Wanderer, where a guy yodels. And that just kind of helped break the ice and, loosen them up so that they started to get more playful with it.

Gaspard: How did the bit of business where she traps him between her legs come about? Was that a rehearsal thing? Was that you? Was that them?

Badham: Oh, I think it was something Ally just did.  It was very, very erotic in its own little way.

Gaspard: And his reaction is great too. because he doesn't know what to do.

Badham: Yeah. Yeah. That's right. I forgot, totally forgot about that, but I do remember it happening.

Gaspard: You know, if in a parallel universe I'd be interested in seeing what a finished WarGames by Martin Brest would look like, but I'm glad we got your version, because I think that's the one that's more of a crowd pleaser.

By the time you were pulled in, was the NORAD set already designed and built?

Badham: It was. Yeah, pretty much built, they were already shooting tests in there to see how to sell the thing the best. And Billy Fraker, the cinematographer and myself, went over there and spent a lot of time walking around saying, you know, “how would we shoot this?” You know, how was I thinking about shooting it versus whatever Marty had in mind.

Gaspard: Right. Was all the casting done at that point? Was Dabney Coleman already cast and John Wood?

Badham: Dabney Coleman was cast. John Wood. I recast, Matthew's father.

Gaspard: Okay.

Badham: I didn't care for the father they had. And I recast the general, who they had. He was okay, but it needed a bigger personality.

Gaspard: The visuals on the Crystal Palace set on those screens, were those already in production when you came on? Because there's a lot going on on those screens and that's all happening live while you're doing it, right? This is not today. This is back then, and everything that happens happens right in front of the camera. Were those all ready to go when you came on, or were you part of getting that ready? Because there's so much stuff going on in those screens.

Badham: This movie, as far as that concerned, was brilliantly prepared. I mean, they were creating film that would take you several minutes per frame in the optical printer to create. And that had been going on for quite a long time because they had six front projectors, four rear projectors, and 82 video monitors. All of these hundred and whatever had to work in sync with each other, which had never been done before.

Nobody had ever tried to gang that much equipment together to run. And the Hollywood family that did this for years, the Hansards, were able to solve the problem, so you had all these projectors running in sync and you could photograph from any angle which, you know, you maybe might have trouble doing if you were doing blue screen. It used to be with front projection, rear projection, you didn't want to move the camera because you didn't want to get off the hotspot of the arc light. If you got off to the side, it would fade out. But the film had gotten a lot faster. And Fraker was just the best at making all this stuff go together.

Gaspard: The sequence at the end when everything's blowing up, you get so much bang for your editing buck and you're shooting it all live. That's what just kills me. I mean, nowadays they would just, “okay, we'll deal with all that in post.” But you had to go into the edit suite with all those shots of all those screens, doing all those different things for that last big, WOPR explosion thing. For the time, it's really incredible.

Badham: Well, I much prefer it that way. You know, Jim Cameron in the latest film of Avatar, he is managed to get it so what he sees through the camera is what you're going to see on the screen. He is not waiting for stuff to come back from some horrendously tedious project. And so, we are doing a much cruder version of that than what Jim was able to accomplish. But it's, you know exactly what you've got at that time, and you're not suddenly stuck with bad exposures and nasty looking bad blue screen work.

Gaspard: That's the balance that I think is so amazing in your career. Great performances, highly entertaining stories, but my goodness, the action and getting all the pieces you need. Just an education in itself.

John Wood. I'm a huge fan of John Wood. He wasn't in enough movies. What was it like working with him?

Badham: This was an absolute lovely English pro of the first order. You know, English actors are so disciplined and so together, compared to our American actors who tend to be a little loosey goosey. So, I had somebody who was just totally focused on doing the best job that he possibly could.

And he was so humble, maybe falsely humble. I used to think that. But he would come up and say, “Oh, dear boy, I'm ruining your movie.” And I'd say, “Oh, John, that's bullshit. Just shut up. You're doing great, it's just lovely.”

And he was at that point just starting rehearsal for Amadeus, to play the Salieri part on the road. And he was asking me, he said, “They've got us on a raked stage, for this, which is fine,” he said. “But my back is killing me. I can't be on this raked stage with the high heel shoes of the period.” And I sent him to my chiropractor, in Culver City. And he came down to where they were rehearsing and managed to completely solve his back problem with different kinds of shoes and stuff like that. So, John was just, you know, so, grateful for that, because he was miserable.

Gaspard: In WarGames he is the center of one of my favorite shots of yours in the war room, when he first enters, and he comes down the stairs and crosses the entire room.

Badham: Mm-hmm.

Gaspard: Do you remember how you did that shot?

Badham: Oh yeah. Well, we did it with a crane that was designed to work inside and was one of the first cranes that would extend out and pull back through the space that he was going through.

Gaspard: Was that the Luma Crane?

Badham: Yes, it was, thank you.

Gaspard: I remember that from Polanski's Tenant film. He had it where it snaked up through a stairway, but it's such a lovely shot.

Badham: It did work out really nicely. The war room was stepped up as you went toward the back of it, it went up, you know, four or five steps. So, it wasn't a matter of being able to dolly straight back, because you couldn't do that. But the Luma Crane was better than your average Chapman Crane because it had this extender on it. The mechanics of it were very difficult, however, and it slowed you down to a crawl because it took so long to get it set up, rigged and = right. And now, there's better equipment, so I'm sure nobody except Mr. Luma uses it anymore.

Gaspard: Right, but at, but at the time it was—

Badham: —oh. It's great.

Gaspard: An audience member watching the movie is unconsciously aware of the fact that this room has steps and goes up because you've seen people coming down the steps, going up the steps, even to the stairs on the side. But I mean, the room is just tiered. And so, when you see John Wood come down the stairs, cross the room and go up and up and up and the cameras with him the whole time, you mentally go, “how were they following him? They're going up steps.” And it's not steadycam, because I don't think steadycam came about till maybe—

Badham: Steadycam was around since 74.

Gaspard: Anyway, it's just a fabulous shot. Two more things on WarGames. The opening scene, with the two guys who are in the bunker, is such a great tension scene. It's beautifully staged, but it also sets up the theme of the movie so perfectly. Was that always the opening of the script?

Badham: As long as I worked on it, it was always the opening.

Gaspard: Did you make any changes or go back to previous drafts when you came on board?

Badham: I did. I asked them to send me every draft that they had, and they had taken the original writers Lasker and Parks and had replaced them with a couple of other writers, and they had changed the script quite a bit. And I went back and read Lasker and Parks and said, “this is the one that we need. I'm throwing these other ones out.” And I called the guys up and I said, “Come back. Help me out here. You know, we can tidy up the script the way you like it, the way it should be.” So, we were able to do that and to finetune it to where I think it was doing the right thing or doing the best job.

Gaspard: Okay. One more WarGames question. In the I'll Be In My Trailer book—and in both books—you talk about being totally honest with actors. But you are occasionally willing to keep them in the dark, or I wouldn't say trick them, but not necessarily tell them everything is going to happen, just to see what they do. The example in WarGames is when Matthew Broderick tussles, Dabney Coleman's hair, after his hair has been tussled by Dabney Coleman. And I believe that that was something you told Matthew to do, but you didn't tell Dabney. How often does that come up, and how often should you use that sort of technique of surprising people on camera?

Badham: Well, I think it can be fun. You get a spontaneous reaction from them and if it works, that's great. If not, you've always got what was scripted.

Gaspard: Right. 

Badham: And sometimes you just get an idea watching it. For example, the Dabney Coleman/Matthew Broderick example that you give: they had to kind of shake hands or hug or whatever, and in the excitement of it, Dabney rubs Matthew's hair in the rehearsal. And so, I went over and told Matthew on the quiet, “Hey, you do it to him, you know, to surprise him.” Because Dabney has a temper and he kind of reacts and I knew he was not going to just take it lying down. And yet he's like, you know, six or eight inches taller than Matthew. So Whatcha gonna do You gonna hit the kid?

Gaspard: It's a lovely moment. And what I love about that ending of WarGames is that when the movie's over, it ends. You don't drag stuff out, the movie’s over and we're done. I wish more films did that. Is that just a built-in barometer with you that you just know when it's time to just put up The End?

Badham: To get out. I mean, I hate watching movies where you just have one ending after another and you've gotta wrap up every single character. And I understand why people do that, but it just bores me silly. And that's probably coming from working in television where they always have to have—at the end of an episode—an epilogue. You know, we've convicted the murderer, we've gotten the bad guy, you know, and then they go to commercial and they can come back and they have a two minute scene. And usually it's just deadly stuff. There's nothing, much fun about it.

I did a lot of episodes of Supernatural and they had hit on a formula that actually worked great. Which was, you went to commercial, when you came back, you'd always have a scene with the two brothers that was sort of off topic from what the rest of the thing had been. And it was just great fun. And you hung in there to watch it. because it was a delightful addition. It was not some, you know, millstone hung around the series neck.

Gaspard: It's not literally filler where you're trying to fill those two minutes. You've actually come up with something fun. Do you have a couple more minutes? Just talk about Dracula very quickly.

Badham: Yeah. Let's do that.

Gaspard: What a great version of Dracula. I believe in one of the two books, one of the things you said was, “Don't be afraid to say, ‘I don't know, let's figure it out.’” And I got the sense you did that a lot on Dracula. There was a lot of, how do we do this? I don't know, let's figure it out.

And you had some of the best people. One of them I want to ask about is working with Albert Whitlock and matte paintings, which are beautiful in that movie. And, of course, seamless, because his stuff was seamless. I should know how this is done. I don't. Is he painting the painting and you're bringing it live to the location and setting it in front of the camera with the part open that you need for the live thing? Or is that all placed on in post?

Badham: The old-fashioned way to do it is you would set a frame up in front of the camera and, now let's say you were extending a building up, so you would literally stand there and paint it on the spot.

Gaspard: Okay.

Badham: That was the first way that they did it. So that when you shot the film, you had a combined matte painting: it was all together as one piece. Albert, what he did was, he would block off in black all the parts where he's going to paint and just leave open the parts that we're going to photograph and make it so that none of that black part was exposed to anything. He would make you put down a platform that was rigid, it would take an earthquake to move, because nothing could move, everything had to be absolutely stone rigid and you would shoot two or three takes of whatever it was, the castle, Dracula’s castle was one that we did, you know, several of.

And now take that film back to his studio and put it in the refrigerator. Do not develop it. Now he would go in and clip off a few frames from the unexposed negative and develop that. And now create a matte where he painted in everything. And he could now take the original film out of the refrigerator and he would run that through the camera again, not exposing the part that had already been exposed, but now just exposing the top. And so, it was all original negative. That was his whole feeling, that he was not working with dupe negative at all.

Gaspard: That's why it so great.

Badham: And it is absolutely perfect. By that point in England, the guys had kind of tried to go beyond that and figuring—with new film stocks—they could make dupe negatives. Albert only gave us 10 shots, and other ones that we had were done in a newer style, where they didn't have original negative and they don't look as good as what he did.

Gaspard: One last question about actors, because you had a great example in Dracula of dealing with an actor who was sort of playing with you to get more time on camera. And that was Donald Pleasance and his bag of candy. At what point did you realize that he was doing that, and what advice do you give to someone who has an actor who's playing games to be on camera?

Badham: When you realize what's going on, you have to decide how are you going to deal with this? I had a similar situation with James Woods in a movie called The Hard Way, and he's the same kind of same kind of guy. Exactly. Always looking to kind of sneak more time on camera, how to upstage other people.

Donald is the genius at up staging other people. And I would just call him on it and say, “Donald, let's give Lord Olivier his close up here. Let's give Larry his closeup.” I never called him Lord Olivier. If you called Olivier ‘Lord Olivier,’ he’d say “Larry, dear boy. Larry.”

Dying to make a feature? Learn from the pros!

"We never put out an actual textbook for the Corman School of Filmmaking, but if we did, it would be Fast, Cheap and Under Control." 
Roger Corman, Producer

★★★★★

It’s like taking a Master Class in moviemaking…all in one book!

  • Jonathan Demme: The value of cameos

  • John Sayles: Writing to your resources

  • Peter Bogdanovich: Long, continuous takes

  • John Cassavetes: Re-Shoots

  • Steven Soderbergh: Rehearsals

  • George Romero: Casting

  • Kevin Smith: Skipping film school

  • Jon Favreau: Creating an emotional connection

  • Richard Linklater: Poverty breeds creativity

  • David Lynch: Kill your darlings

  • Ron Howard: Pre-production planning

  • John Carpenter: Going low-tech

  • Robert Rodriguez: Sound thinking

And more!

Buy the Book: “Fast, Cheap and Under Control”

Write Your Screenplay with the Help of Top Screenwriters!

It’s like taking a Master Class in screenwriting … all in one book!

Discover the pitfalls of writing to fit a budget from screenwriters who have successfully navigated these waters already. Learn from their mistakes and improve your script with their expert advice.

"I wish I'd read this book before I made Re-Animator."
Stuart Gordon, Director, Re-Animator, Castle Freak, From Beyond

John Gaspard has directed half a dozen low-budget features, as well as written for TV, movies, novels and the stage.

The book covers (among other topics):

  • Academy-Award Winner Dan Futterman (“Capote”) on writing real stories

  • Tom DiCillio (“Living In Oblivion”) on turning a short into a feature

  • Kasi Lemmons (“Eve’s Bayou”) on writing for a different time period

  • George Romero (“Martin”) on writing horror on a budget

  • Rebecca Miller (“Personal Velocity”) on adapting short stories

  • Stuart Gordon (“Re-Animator”) on adaptations

  • Academy-Award Nominee Whit Stillman (“Metropolitan”) on cheap ways to make it look expensive

  • Miranda July (“Me and You and Everyone We Know”) on making your writing spontaneous

  • Alex Cox (“Repo Man”) on scaling the script to meet a budget

  • Joan Micklin Silver (“Hester Street”) on writing history on a budget

  • Bob Clark (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”) on mixing humor and horror

  • Amy Holden Jones (“Love Letters”) on writing romance on a budget

  • Henry Jaglom (“Venice/Venice”) on mixing improvisation with scripting

  • L.M. Kit Carson (“Paris, Texas”) on re-writing while shooting

  • Academy-Award Winner Kenneth Lonergan (“You Can Count on Me”) on script editing

  • Roger Nygard (“Suckers”) on mixing genres

This is the book for anyone who’s serious about writing a screenplay that can get produced! 

Buy the Book: “Fast, Cheap and Written That Way”

Roger Nygard on "The Documentarian," Trekkies, fishing and more ...

Click Here for a podcast version of this interview

Where did you first get the documentary bug?

Roger Nygard: It was a big mistake. I didn't plan for it. It is sort of like, “Oh, I'll try one bump of heroin. What could hurt, right? Just once.”

I made a documentary called Trekkies because an actress I met named Denise Crosby (who was in my first feature film), we had lunch a few years later and she pitched the idea to me. “Hey, someone should make a documentary about these Star Trek fans.” Because she'd been going to conventions as an actor and said these people are entertaining and we couldn't believe no one had done it yet. It seems so obvious and “Yes, of course.”

So, we brainstormed a little bit. We’d never done this before. How do you, uh, we have no idea how to make a documentary. But, you know, as the naive often say, how hard can it be? And then you dive in and it's really hard, especially if you don't know what you're doing.

And we just stumbled into it, watched a bunch of documentaries, absorbed what we could, made a lot of mistakes, which I learned from, and then put in a book about how to make documentaries, I made the mistakes, so you don't have to. So, I just kind of stumbled into it.

What was the biggest challenge you faced on that one, looking back on it?

Roger Nygard: It's always, the biggest challenge is always finding the money to pay for it. Every time. Even for Ken Burns, he said it was a challenge raising money. You’d think a guy like, in, in his career at this point, with dozens of films, they'd be writing him checks, but he says he still has to go searching for the finishing funds on every project.

One of the things when I saw Trekkies for the first time I was really impressed with--well, first the humanity that you treated every subject in it with. But also, your balance of the humorous and the serious elements within it. I imagine you found that in the editing, am I right?

Roger Nygard: I guess so. I mean, it's something innate. I don't really consciously set out to be, “I'm going to be balanced,” or “I'm going to be funny.” It's what I look for in my own viewing. I look for films where the filmmaker is not lying to me. I want a genuine take on something. They can take a position. In fact, it's better when you take a position with a documentary. You should have a point of view. If you are just presenting both sides equally, you're much less likely to have an audience than if you take a stand, make a position and lay out the evidence and let the audience decide.

But I look for that in a film, and so my films, I guess, are an embodiment of me. I'm the filmmaker. You're getting my perspective on the world. Any piece of art is the artist's perspective on the world. They're saying, “here's how I see the world.” And my documentary is me looking at people. I'm amused and I'm obsessed and I'm interested in human behavior.

I find it fascinating and really funny. And so that's what happens when I process what I'm making. And then, of course, then in the editing, that's where I'm refining that point of view.

So, when you sit down with someone, what techniques do you use to make your interview subjects comfortable and willing to open up to get the sort of responses you need?

Roger Nygard: First, you want to start off with some flattery. Obviously. “Thank you for being here. I loved your book. It's such a good book. I loved your movie. I loved your acting. I loved whatever. I love that broach.” You, find something to compliment.

And people love it. You bond with someone who likes you. We like people who like us. And so that interview is going to be a connection between two people and it's nice when it's like a friendly connection where they're not hiding their true selves. So, you want someone to feel comfortable enough so that they'll open up and give you the real stuff and not try to present, to pre edit their image. Those interviews don't work so well when someone's trying to make sure that they're going to come off a certain way. They need to be open and you're gonna take what they give you and edit it and make them look good, ideally, or at least give them a genuine, honest portrayal. But you want them to feel comfortable.

Another way to do that is to share something about yourself, before you start. Maybe a tragedy you experienced, if you're talking about their tragedy. Or a funny event that happened to you. But keep it short, because they are there to talk, you're there to listen.

So, mainly, you ask a question and then just shut up and let them fill the space.

How long did it take you to learn to shut up? Because I'm not sure I've learned that yet.

Roger Nygard: It's so hard. Especially for men. Men are the worst. I mean, I made a documentary about relationships, and that's almost the number one thing I learned from marriage therapists is that your partner needs to be heard. And men typically try to fix things, because that's what we do, right? But your partner doesn't need you to fix them usually when they're telling you something. Let’s say you've got a wife, she's complaining about her boss, she doesn't want you to, to say, “Oh, why don't you quit? Why don't you do this? Why don't you do that?”

That's going to make her feel worse. She wants you to just, just show empathy. And so in an interview, you want to do the same thing—show empathy—but don't intrude, just nod, “hmm, hmm, yeah, oh that's, that must have been awful, tell me more about how that felt.”

Instead of interrupting and trying to guide them, just ask the question, leave the space, provide silent empathy, because you don't want your voice all over their soundtrack.

How much pre-interviewing do you do and do you like that or not?

Roger Nygard: I used to do a lot of pre interviewing. On Trekkies, we did a lot because it was expensive to shoot film. We made that in 16mm film. Oftentimes, we would rehearse what they're going to say and get the soundbite we needed kind of ready. And then say “action,” have them say it, and then cut, and then move on. Or maybe say it in a couple different ways. But now, it’s much more typical to just let the camera roll, because we're shooting video, with maybe multiple cameras.

And I think that's a better way generally, because you might get things you didn't expect. I'd rather have a lot of extra footage that I can't use and yet get that moment that I wouldn't have had otherwise, than if I'm trying to save video.

But that said, you want to know what you're going there to get. You don't want to shoot a bunch of things that are useless, because you've got to sit in the editing room, or your poor editor has to go through all of this stuff. So, you do need to plan it out, and there's nothing wrong with preparing the person, pre interviewing them.

You know, early in my career, I was a PA on a documentary that HBO was doing here in the Twin Cities. It was about hockey goalies, I think, and suicide. And I'd never been on a documentary set like that. And the director of it literally would say, “when we talked on the phone, you said the following sentence, would you say that again?” Which appalled me at the time, because I thought, “let him really talk.” But then like you say, he was shooting 16 and he had to get what he had to get. But now, a million years later, having done hundreds of corporate interviews, while I'm absolutely on your side of let the camera run, you also need to know what it is you want to get.

But also, I remember, we were wrapping up an interview with a father of someone who, I think she had become ill, but she was fine now. And I said, “OK, well, that's just been great, Dave. Thank you for talking to me.” And the sound man—I was about to say cut—and the sound man said, “John, um, I just feel like Dave wants to say something else.” And I said, “well, yeah, we're still rolling. Go ahead, Dave.” And then he said the sentence that we needed for the whole video.

And the sound man had seen that because he was paying attention to the person that I was interviewing. I had not seen it. And I got better later on at seeing that, but it's finding that balance between we're done and we're almost done, but you're about to do something brilliant that I guess you can only get from having done it.

Roger Nygard: I agree. Yes, I've oftentimes said to someone, “That was a great story or a great thing you just said. Could you say it again? Because it's so important, I want to have you try again. And maybe we'll get it a little more concise this time?” Or if in your mind, you're thinking they didn't quite deliver it the way you wanted.

I might even suggest, “Why don't you start by saying ‘That time I was riding my bike …’ and finished the sentence.” I'll guide them, because I'm editing, I'm pre editing in my head. How am I going to use this soundbite? Can I use it? Is it usable? Or should we try again?

That's very common and they like that, because they want to come off well and they want a second chance to say the thing better. So, everybody wins. And by the way, did you meet Gump Worsley?

I did not. This was a high school hockey thing, it wasn't a professional hockey video. But I was surprised that at the end of the day they gave me all the film to take over to the lab. I'm just a PA. You're giving me everything to take to the place? It seemed like they were giving an awful lot of trust to this kid who didn't know what he was doing.

But you raise an interesting point, because as you're interviewing, you are both directing and editing at the same time. I think if you're good at it, you're figuring out, yes, no, yeah, I can use, no, I can't. And that's a weird dichotomy. How do you balance both those things? Be in the moment, but also be in the editing suite at the same time in your head?

Roger Nygard: That's the hardest thing, especially if you're a one-man band, or a one-person band, or maybe it's you and a sound person. But often, it's been just me with the person that I'm interviewing. And so I've got to make sure it's in focus, I have to remember to turn off the autofocus, I've got to ride the levels, ride the volume, I've got to remember to ask the question, and I have to listen to what they're saying, in case I want to go with a follow up. Doing all these things at once. I've got to remember that—if the lighting changes during the shot—I've got to fix the lighting because the sun moved.

So many things are happening. And so, you just practice. You get better every time you do another one, and it starts to become second nature. But the most important thing, after making sure it's in focus and the sound is good quality, is to listen to what they say, exactly like your sound person. What a great advantage to have someone who is paying attention like that and a good team member to remind you.

Every interview should end with, “Is there anything else you'd like to add? Is there anything that we missed or is there anything else you'd like to say?” Many of the best soundbites I've collected came in those moments when it was unprompted by me. They gave me what they needed to give me.

I remember being on one shoot for an NCAA athlete. She was a basketball point guard, I think. And we're about halfway through the interview and I asked a question and her response was this. She said, “Well as I said before, oh wait, I shouldn't say ‘as I said before,’ because I bet you're going to cut this up. Let me redo that and I won't say ‘as I said before.’” And then she said the statement.

She finished the statement, and I turned to the crew and said, “You guys do this much more than I do. Has a subject ever said that? And they said, “No, no subject has ever been that aware of the process that they were in that they fixed on the fly what they're saying, because they knew you couldn't use it.”

Roger Nygard: Those interview subjects are rare.

One technique you talk about in the book is something that started with Errol Morris and ended up being used in corporate America, corporate videos quite a bit. We called it The Interrogator, but that's not quite the word that he used. What did he call it?

Roger Nygard: Oh, the Interitron.

We call it just the Interrogator, and it's where you've set up a system wherein they're not looking at the camera, they're looking basically at a screen, which is in front of the camera, and they see your face, and so it is a conversation. And with many subjects, I found that that really helped break down any sort of barrier, because it's really hard to talk to a camera, it's much easier to talk to someone sitting next to the camera, and the closer they are to the camera, the better your shot's going to be. But having them look right at your face was hugely helpful.

Roger Nygard: There is a connection that happens, according to Errol Morris, that brings unexpected, well, I don't know, what do you want to call it, electricity between you and your subject. Maybe that you might not have when the camera's intruding on the relationship.

Have you ever run into situations where there wasn't a pre-interview and it becomes very apparent very quickly that this isn't going to go anywhere? If you have, what's your response to that and how do you handle that?

Roger Nygard: Oh, yeah, there are many times. Especially when I was shooting The Nature of Existence. I had 450 hours of footage. I interviewed 170 people. Something like that. Because I was fishing, I don't know what I'm going to get. And everyone is qualified to have an opinion on why do we exist. So, it's worth casting my lure into that part of the lake, even though I'm not sure that there's fish there, I didn't pre fish it. And when that happens, I just do the interview, and then I thank them and tell them it was great. And then I just don't use it, because there's nothing usable in there and it's part of fishing, right? Not every cast brings in a fish. Your Minnesota viewers are going to understand this metaphor.

Well, I think fishing's internationally understood. I've never seen anyone do it outside of Minnesota, but I've seen pictures. So, you mentioned, The Nature of Existence. We've talked about Trekkies, you've talked about the relationship documentary. Where do you get your ideas for what to follow? What's going to be your next project? Where does that come from? And how do you know when you, when you have a good fish on the line?

Roger Nygard: When you become obsessed with an idea, you have a message that is bursting to get out of you, and so you are compelled to see this through to the bitter end. Because it might take two years, or four years, or seven years.

The Truth About Marriage took seven years. Trekkies took one year. Trekkies 2 took 18 months. The Nature of Existence took four years. The idea has to captivate me enough, and obsess me enough, get me there. And then I'm hoping the audience will be just as interested in what I'm obsessed with as I present it to them. That's probably the most important ingredient to the success of a documentary, is your choice of subject matter.

What do you mean?

Roger Nygard: Because otherwise you might be making a whole movie that’s something no one else is gonna be interested in. Or you're doing it for some reason other than you are captivated by it. Because you're the filmmaker, you're the artist. It's your enthusiasm, your excitement that's going to come through and be felt by the audience.
But while you're doing that, in your case, you are producing, directing, and editing your projects. When do you know that it's done? I mean, on The Nature of Existence, you said you interviewed, what, 170? How do you know, “Well, that's it, I've got all the pieces?” How do you make that decision?

Roger Nygard: Yeah, it's hard sometimes because I had no idea where I was going to end up in with some of these films. I'm sort of like an investigator setting out to solve a crime, and so once I solved the crime, then I know where my ending is and I know how to get there, where to get to. I just have to answer the question.

For example, The Truth About Marriage. My question was, Why are relationships so hard for people? That's the mystery I solved. And once I had solved it for myself, by talking to enough marriage therapists, and couples, and married people, and divorced people, a divorce attorney, etc. I had settled in on an answer. And so that's what I present at the end of the film, is what I learned while seeking out that question.

That’s a concept documentary. With a narrative documentary, it is easier to know your ending because it's a story of someone's life, probably, or a slice of someone's life. Or a trial with a verdict. Okay, the verdict is the ending. Or, maybe it's basketball. And so, do they win or do they lose at the end? That's your ending, and you're working backward from that. If it's a biography, if they've lived a good three act structure in their lives, you've probably got a good documentary there.

If they haven't, you either have to manufacture it or find a way to present it. And many documentaries have succeeded despite a lack of a story structure and despite a lack of a solid core question. It's better to have the insurance of a solid story structure, but if you don't have it, you might yet still succeed.

Like, I think Trekkies is an example of this. It's a flawed documentary, which does not have a narrative structure. And there's no solid core question asked at the beginning. But it was a grand slam as a documentary because it was so funny. And it had a core group of people that were going to automatically be interested in the film. So, we had those two high cards despite the fact that we didn't have what typically a great documentary has, which is a narrative structure just the same as a screenplay has.

It feels like sometimes you're just rolling the dice, not you, but a documentary filmmaker, that you're gonna go into something and something's gonna happen and you're gonna end up with either The Jinx, where he confesses on tape at the end of your documentary, which you certainly could not have put in your pitch if you're that director. Or the folks who were working on the Alec Baldwin documentary about his trial, where the judge threw it out on the first or second day. At that point, you no longer have a documentary.

What would you recommend someone do when they're going out to pitch a documentary to investors or the network or whatever on the idea of something? How do you sell something that doesn't exist yet, even in anything more than like a one page document?

Roger Nygard: The best way to sell it is to make them feel the story in the room. You act it out and you bring the excitement because you're excited by it. And maybe you've done one interview already as a test. That's often where I get the feel when I'm interviewing that person. I feel it. I feel like I've got something here or I feel like it's not going anywhere.

I started a documentary about Scott Hanson, local Minneapolis comedian, and we did one interview, and I just didn't feel it, because I think he was trying to present an image of himself. He wasn't willing to be open. And so I didn't get excited, and we didn't really keep going.

The first interview, the first footage we shot of Trekkies, we felt it. We knew we had something. The first interview I did about this existentialist question, Why do we exist? I loved talking to people about this the way you do in a dorm room in college when you're talking about the big questions Why are we here? And what's our purpose? And what am I supposed to do with my life? That gets me excited. It gets people excited in life and death talking about death. What happens when you die? Does the soul exist? If so, where is it lodged inside your brain? Is there a compartment? You know, just fun, fun questions So, I knew, I had a sense that that was going to turn out okay, even though I didn't know my ending when I started because the idea was so gripping.

I mean, it's gripped people, existentialist philosophers, for centuries. I'm not the first person to ask this question or try to figure it. I'm just one of thousands or millions, who knows? So, I was tapping into something I thought, it felt like to me. I felt it.

But when you're in a pitch meeting, as you're asking, you have to make them feel the excitement either through your core question or the character description. If it's a character piece, then you are going to tell a story about this person. Who is this documentary about?

I asked Ken Burns about that. How do you make a documentary about things like a bridge? His first film was about the building of the Brooklyn Bridge. And he said, “You can't. You cannot make documentaries about things. It has to be about people.” And so that documentary is about the family, the Roebling family, that built that bridge and their struggle to complete the job through difficulties and challenges and near death experiences. That makes it interesting and exciting.

If you love the film— like a film about an octopus, right? It's not as exciting unless you learn about the person who gets infatuated with a particular octopus, and it's his life. Or a documentary about a TV show. It's going to have a limited interest to fans of the TV show. But if you want a wider audience, you do a film about the fans themselves, about the people.

The stories are about the people involved. Someone who collects owl figurines like my aunt did. She would have been a great subject. The owl figurines, who cares? You know, it's a five-minute short. Look, a bunch of owl figurines. But the person, the mindset behind someone who thinks they have to fill their house with owls. That's interesting.

And it gives you lots of cutaway shots, too, which is nice.

Roger Nygard: Always get your cutaways. Yes.

For your documentaries, you're directing and editing, but in the case of the Comedy Store series, you were just, I don't mean to say just an editor on it, but you weren't directing it. What is that process like? I dealt with in corporate all the time. I would go out and interview the subjects and I'd bring it back to my editor and say, “Hey, here's my notes, here's the best stuff, have at it.” And he would create something great that wasn't what I had necessarily intended, but he found the best stuff in the footage and turned it into a five minute story.

In the case of The Comedy Store, you're probably handed hundreds of hours of interviews with very interesting people and very funny people. What was your process for creating all those segments and deciding, this goes this stays? Because I'm guessing you could probably have done a couple more hours of just stuff that's funny.

Roger Nygard: Sure, we could have done more episodes. There was plenty of footage. I was hired by Mike Binder, who I had worked with before. I had edited his feature films in the past. And he had never made a documentary.

So, when he first asked me, I was busy. I was cutting Curb Your Enthusiasm. And I said, “I can't do it. But if, you know, if you can wait 11 months, I'll be free.” So, he hired another editor and started on the footage. And when that eleven months was over, they had crap. They had nothing. They had the beginnings of an episode, but he was flailing around trying to figure out what to do.

So, I said, “I'm available now, let's do it.” So, I jumped in, and the first thing I showed Mike was my rules for doing interviews. I said, “Mike, you gotta just shut up. Ask the question and shut up. Let them fill the space. Especially when it's awkward. That's great. They'll come up with things they wouldn't have said if you had just been quiet.” That's number one.

Number two, each episode needs a theme. And this is the biggest problem that I've seen, the biggest mistake that documentary filmmakers will make, is they don't know what their theme is. What is a theme? It's the idea or the premise behind the moral of the story. It's the idea you're trying to express.

And each of the five episodes has a different theme. One is called The Wild Bunch. And it was about the wildest comedians who ever performed at The Comedy Store. And we used some footage from the movie The Wild Bunch. Once it had a theme, then I knew what to cut, and how to link things together.

And once Mike started revising his outlines with that in mind, they started to take shape. And cutting the episodes made sense. You need to know your theme. I would write it down on a piece of paper, put it on the wall, because that's your roadmap. That's where you're going, and every scene should be connected to that theme in some way. Or if it doesn't, it probably doesn't belong in that episode or in the movie.

And it actually probably made it a whole lot easier to edit, because you could just immediately go, nope, nope, yep, nope, nope, nope, nope, yep.

Roger Nygard: It's your road map. Otherwise, you're just surrounded by a forest of footage and what do you do? I mean, there are tricks, like you start putting like with like and grouping them in your bins. And eventually you might start connecting like segments with like segments as you're building scenes.

But when there's a narrative, it's easiest. There's an episode that's about the comedy strike, which happened. And so that gave us a very specific timeline of what's happening and who caused the strike and what they were asking for. Now we've got protagonists and antagonists. The antagonist is the owner of the store, Mitzi Shore, who doesn't want to pay them what they want as comedians. And that makes it easier from a narrative perspective, because what is a narrative, right? You have a protagonist, or a small group of protagonists, and an antagonist, or a small group, and a goal.

The protagonists have a goal, and there's obstacles to that goal. Now we watch to see how they succeed or fail. That made that episode much clearer.

One part of the book that I found just fascinating and I'm wondering if the publisher gave you any pushback on it, because it is sort of its own mini book right in the book. Which is the whole process of coming up with a distribution deal for Trekkies. It's a long segment, but it disabuses you of any glamour of Hollywood of, “Oh, we went to Sundance and they loved the film, and we signed it, and two months later it was in theaters. This is pages and pages and pages of the process of taking what you know to be a valuable asset and getting it to the right people and getting it out. So, first question is, did the publisher push back on that at all?

Roger Nygard: No, they were remarkably compliant, helpful.  Because I'd done one book with them already, and they felt pretty happy about me doing a second one in a similar vein, and I had case studies in that book also.

But not like this, this is four chapters.

Roger Nygard: You're right, the four chapters after, I say at one point, at the end of chapter 10 or whatever it was, “Okay, the how to make a documentary part of the book is over. The next four chapters are, once you have finished, here's a case study in trying to sell your documentary.” Because it took us nine months. From our first distributor screening to sign a contract. There is no immediate, you know. I mean, Sundance turned us down.

And so, you have to persevere despite these problems toward a sale. The Sundance mega sale is like winning the lottery. And you're not likely to win the lottery. So you need backup strategies and backup plans. And we had tried lots of things, and it took us a long time and a lot of difficulties in fighting amongst ourselves to finally get to a point where we succeeded and got such a successful sale.

Those chapters—I mean, the whole book is great for anyone who wants to make a documentary—but it's also really good for anyone who wants to make a thing. Particularly a film or a TV show or something.You're trying to make a pilot, you're trying to do something. It's unvarnished as to what it takes to do these things, and then you get to those four chapters, you realize this is for anybody who's got a film under their arm, whether it's a short or a feature, here's what you need to be prepared to face.

I've always said that the problem with independent filmmaking is that we only see the successes. It's like having a cancer study where they don't tell you about the ones who died. We only tell you about the ones who lived. And this is a great, because look at this: this is what they did and they all lived, but there's so many that died because people don't understand the process. And that's what I love about that section of the book: it really just says this is not easy and you need good people on your side.

Roger Nygard: And persistence. It’s a marathon. You need to make sure your film sells. No one else is going to have the motivation to push your film over the finish line more than you. You gotta be in training to be that strong. You gotta make your short films, you gotta suffer a little bit, and that just makes you stronger.

We were motivated to succeed. Despite being turned down by Sundance and Telluride and Toronto and the New York Film Festival—all the big ones at the beginning of the season turned us down. We finally got some success with the Hamptons Film Festival and the AFI Los Angeles Film Festival, and we were able to use those to help us get where we wanted to go. But boy, it would have been so much nicer if we got into Sundance, and it was the rave of Sundance, and it was easy.

But here's a plan for those where that doesn't happen: There's a film agent I interview in the book, Glenn Reynolds, who said, “I don't need film festivals to sell your movie. Filmmakers like to go to film festivals, but there's just buyers, and it comes down to the product.

Is it good? Who's in it? What's their social media reach now? And, oh, okay, you did a film festival. That's great. That doesn't hurt necessarily, but these first three, and the poster. What's the hook? What's the marketing going to do? Those are more important than how many film festivals.”

We did 50 film festivals. The buyers don't really care. But if you picked up some rave reviews, and won some awards, that shows that someone else has validated your work. And so that's what you're hoping for.

And you're not doing that in a vacuum. If I remember the timeline, you're working on your feature Suckers in there somewhere as well, that's happening at the same time.

You once said to me something like, “It's good to have a lot of irons in the fire, you just don't want to have too many because you'll put the fire out.” You don't remember saying that?

Roger Nygard: I do, yes. That sounds like me.

Yeah, it is you. It was you. And I've remembered that ever since. And have tried to have a number of irons in the fire, but not too many. I think you sort of just say it in passing, in that section, that you’re also working on Suckers, and that's happening. But you've always had sort of multi paths happening at the same time. How has that helped your career as both a documentary filmmaker, and a TV director, and a TV editor, and now an author?

Roger Nygard: Yeah, you need to continually reinvent yourself and be trying new things and have multiple projects and have the stamina to, to work on them all and push them forward. Because that's who you're competing with. You're competing with people who are like that. They're working just as hard as you are.

I mean, a workaholic is just someone who works harder than you do, right? If you accuse someone of being a workaholic, that means you're probably a little lazier than they are. Okay, that's fine. Maybe you can make what you need out of life, not working as hard, and my hat goes off to you. But that doesn't work for me. What works for me is—maybe it's that Scandinavian work ethic I picked up growing up in Minnesota—I feel like a complete loser if I haven't put in my work during the day. By the end of the day, I better have pushed that ball down the field some more, or I'll feel, you know, guilty.

And so that helps motivate me. So, I work every day on something. Whether it's writing the book, or making a documentary, or editing a feature, or editing—right now I'm editing a Netflix series. Doing all those things. And my delayed gratification carrot is hanging there for me: Once I finish, I'm gonna go to Bali. So, I go to Bali every year once I've earned it.

And now you might say, “Oh, you're crazy! No one should work that hard. I'm tired.” Well, it's a very competitive world, and so you need to work just a little bit harder than the one you're competing against.

Yes. I believe it was William Goldman who quoted a basketball coach saying to their player, “Anytime you're not practicing, the guy you're going to go up against is, so you need to get out there and practice.”

Roger Nygard: It’s no different in the film business. Film business is the same, if not even more cutthroat.

Okay, two last questions on this, and then I'm going to let you go. So, what's the biggest mistake that you think someone starting out as a documentary filmmaker is likely to make?

Roger Nygard: One of them is to give up your ownership. You should always keep, if you can, own your projects. Own your product. Because it's a property. And if you own it, then you can continually relicense it over your lifetime.

I know a filmmaker who made the biggest mistake you can make, which is he sold his movie in perpetuity to a distributor. Now it's gone. He'll never get it back again. So you want to license whatever you've made to a distributor for two years, four years, five years, seven years. With Trekkies, we had a 20 year license, 25 if unrecouped. But that's because they paid us so much money, they bought that many years, but it was still a license.

And so Trekies came back to us a few years ago and so we restored it to HD. It had never been released in HD yet, and we’ve licensed it to a new company for another period of time.

You did the same thing with Suckers, didn't you?

Roger Nygard: I did it, I bought it, yes. The company, the same company that I made Trekkies with made Suckers with me. And they set up a corporation to own the film, which is typically what they do, every film has a corporation that owns that film. And that's where the money from the investor goes. And that's where the profits, if any, come out of. And in that case, Sucker's never reached profit while they owned it. It cost about a half a million to make, and it probably made back $250,000 from an HBO sale and an IFC sale and home video. And we had a distributor that went bankrupt who, so we had to chase them.

But at the end, probably like 15 years after we made the film, the company that I worked with, Neomotion Pictures, they were going to close their doors. They were retiring or going off to do different things, and they were shutting down the company they had made that owned the film. So, if they just shut down the company, then suddenly it goes into the public domain, because there's no ownership. The entity that owned it no longer exists. Nothing owns it. Meaning everybody, anyone can own it.

So, I said, Wait, guys, sell it to me,” which they did, “And I will restore the film,” which I did. I paid for the restoration. I collected what elements remained, some had been thrown away, but enough of the key elements still existed, so I was able to re-scan it and remix it and marry it together and find a distributor. And actually I put it on, it's on Amazon Prime. I put it there myself. So, I collect the money directly now, after putting my money into it.

So, be an owner. Own your films. And if you can't, be a co owner. So at least you're part of where the money goes first. I mean, ideally you want the money to go to you and have all your profit participants chase you for the money, instead of you chasing them for the royalties.

Okay, one last question. Someone has read your book, they've properly packed all their gear,  they're going off to begin shooting. What's the one last piece of advice you'd give them before the door on the airplane shuts?

Roger Nygard: Buy a copy of The Documentarian for everyone on your crew. That's the first part of the advice. And have them all read it.

Be prepared for your interview, practice at home before you get there, set up your camera and your audio and do a practice interview so that it's second nature by the time you get there. Maybe do a test interview on, on someone who's not your main interviewee so that you have done a dry run and you've tested all the equipment, you've tested your questions, you've refined your approach. And so you're ready for the big day.

Well, this has been great. Roger, is there anything I've forgotten to ask you? 

Roger Nygard: Yes, the names of all my projects. The last book was Cut to the Monkey, about editing and comedy. And this book is called The Documentarian. And I am working on another book, and I will probably, until the day I keel over. Hopefully I'll die fishing up in Canada.

And they won't find you for days and days and days.

Roger Nygard: It would be only fair if I fell in the water and the fish ate me after I've been eating them for years.

grab "The Documentarian" here

Dying to make a feature? Learn from the pros!

"We never put out an actual textbook for the Corman School of Filmmaking, but if we did, it would be Fast, Cheap and Under Control." 
Roger Corman, Producer

★★★★★

It’s like taking a Master Class in moviemaking…all in one book!

  • Jonathan Demme: The value of cameos

  • John Sayles: Writing to your resources

  • Peter Bogdanovich: Long, continuous takes

  • John Cassavetes: Re-Shoots

  • Steven Soderbergh: Rehearsals

  • George Romero: Casting

  • Kevin Smith: Skipping film school

  • Jon Favreau: Creating an emotional connection

  • Richard Linklater: Poverty breeds creativity

  • David Lynch: Kill your darlings

  • Ron Howard: Pre-production planning

  • John Carpenter: Going low-tech

  • Robert Rodriguez: Sound thinking

And more!

Buy the Book: “Fast, Cheap and Under Control”

Write Your Screenplay with the Help of Top Screenwriters!

It’s like taking a Master Class in screenwriting … all in one book!

Discover the pitfalls of writing to fit a budget from screenwriters who have successfully navigated these waters already. Learn from their mistakes and improve your script with their expert advice.

"I wish I'd read this book before I made Re-Animator."
Stuart Gordon, Director, Re-Animator, Castle Freak, From Beyond

John Gaspard has directed half a dozen low-budget features, as well as written for TV, movies, novels and the stage.

The book covers (among other topics):

  • Academy-Award Winner Dan Futterman (“Capote”) on writing real stories

  • Tom DiCillio (“Living In Oblivion”) on turning a short into a feature

  • Kasi Lemmons (“Eve’s Bayou”) on writing for a different time period

  • George Romero (“Martin”) on writing horror on a budget

  • Rebecca Miller (“Personal Velocity”) on adapting short stories

  • Stuart Gordon (“Re-Animator”) on adaptations

  • Academy-Award Nominee Whit Stillman (“Metropolitan”) on cheap ways to make it look expensive

  • Miranda July (“Me and You and Everyone We Know”) on making your writing spontaneous

  • Alex Cox (“Repo Man”) on scaling the script to meet a budget

  • Joan Micklin Silver (“Hester Street”) on writing history on a budget

  • Bob Clark (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”) on mixing humor and horror

  • Amy Holden Jones (“Love Letters”) on writing romance on a budget

  • Henry Jaglom (“Venice/Venice”) on mixing improvisation with scripting

  • L.M. Kit Carson (“Paris, Texas”) on re-writing while shooting

  • Academy-Award Winner Kenneth Lonergan (“You Can Count on Me”) on script editing

  • Roger Nygard (“Suckers”) on mixing genres

This is the book for anyone who’s serious about writing a screenplay that can get produced! 

Buy the Book: “Fast, Cheap and Written That Way”

Peet Gelderblom on "When Forever Dies"

click here to listen to the podcast interview

I do want to just spend just a minute or so talking about When Forever Dies. But oh, my goodness Peet. Where did that come from? And how do—I realize you could probably talk for an hour about it? How did you come up with that? And the very process of putting it together is mind blowing. How would you describe it to someone who hasn't seen it?

Peet: Yeah, When Forever Dies is an archival fiction and it cobbles together scraps of existing films to tell an entirely different story of its own. And that is the story of the relationship between a man and a woman, and how this relationship sort of degrades over time. And it's really experimental in the way that it takes shots and bits and scenes from completely different movies and also completely different genres. It can be advertising, documentaries, animation, love silent films, everything really, and it still manages to tell a whole story.

 You know, you say it's experimental, as someone who has seen it, it's experimental for a few minutes. And then you understand the experiment. And it's then a normal narrative, you get it. I mean, you use some interstitial cards that help bring us along.

 Peet: I say that, because I've always believed that experiment in accessibility shouldn't be a mutually exclusive. It's actually, it's a roller coaster ride of a film and it's in a very, in a lot of ways, it's actually very traditional because I'm using the rules of continuity editing, but I’m using the rules against themselves a little bit, because I take from different films, and then I create, you know, sometimes the opposite meaning out of different shots. Yeah, but what gave me the idea was just I saw a way to do this. And it has evolved, of course, with maybe the start of it was the Raising Cain recut, and making movie mashups after that—video essays—but it all comes from my editing background. I've edited lots of trailers and promos for Universal Pictures and Comedy Central and all sorts of TV channels. And then I was also able to take from different series and different films, you know, put different shots together and create this new through line that didn't exist before and I always enjoyed doing that and I just thought, wouldn't it be really cool to try and do this for a whole feature film?

As it turns out, it was really cool. You know, we recently had on the podcast an editor named Roger Nygard, and Roger edits, Larry David's show Curb Your Enthusiasm, he edited Veep and he's a filmmaker like you. He directs and he edits and he put he also makes his living as an editor. And he said that the thing that taught him the most about filmmaking and about editing was editing promos, where you had a you know, you had to do it all in 15 seconds. And he said you'd learn the most about filmmaking when you have that sort of requirement to work within those boundaries and still tell a story.

 Peet: Yeah, it's the shortest way to tell a story and you really need or you really learn about what things what elements you really need to make something happening on the screen.

With When Forever Dies what's the music on that post-scored or where did you edit to the music? I couldn't really tell, it was all seems so seamless.

Peet: Wow, thank you. Well, it's a little bit of both. I decided I wanted to have a sort of backbone because there was no backbone besides the story that I had made up. So, I actually edited everything on music. Some of the music I made myself but there's also a lot of Creative Commons music and music that was replaced later on by something that our composer did.

Well, it all feels of a piece. It's all just together in perfect. So, I will definitely recommend to listeners that when it becomes available, When Forever Dies is...

Peet: Yeah, it had a very good festival run and then one audience award in Colombia. We're looking into, you know, other, yeah, we're looking into how it could be distributed right now. But obviously it's a weird film. It's difficult to place it.

Yeah, it is. It's different. But then once you get the rhythm of it, you're totally in and you get it.

Peet: Yeah, that's also been my experience with that audience really, audiences really love it when they see it. But I think the trick is to how do you get them in the film theater.

Dying to make a feature? Learn from the pros!

"We never put out an actual textbook for the Corman School of Filmmaking, but if we did, it would be Fast, Cheap and Under Control." 
Roger Corman, Producer

★★★★★

It’s like taking a Master Class in moviemaking…all in one book!

  • Jonathan Demme: The value of cameos

  • John Sayles: Writing to your resources

  • Peter Bogdanovich: Long, continuous takes

  • John Cassavetes: Re-Shoots

  • Steven Soderbergh: Rehearsals

  • George Romero: Casting

  • Kevin Smith: Skipping film school

  • Jon Favreau: Creating an emotional connection

  • Richard Linklater: Poverty breeds creativity

  • David Lynch: Kill your darlings

  • Ron Howard: Pre-production planning

  • John Carpenter: Going low-tech

  • Robert Rodriguez: Sound thinking

And more!

Buy the Book: “Fast, Cheap and Under Control”

Write Your Screenplay with the Help of Top Screenwriters!

It’s like taking a Master Class in screenwriting … all in one book!

Discover the pitfalls of writing to fit a budget from screenwriters who have successfully navigated these waters already. Learn from their mistakes and improve your script with their expert advice.

"I wish I'd read this book before I made Re-Animator."
Stuart Gordon, Director, Re-Animator, Castle Freak, From Beyond

John Gaspard has directed half a dozen low-budget features, as well as written for TV, movies, novels and the stage.

The book covers (among other topics):

  • Academy-Award Winner Dan Futterman (“Capote”) on writing real stories

  • Tom DiCillio (“Living In Oblivion”) on turning a short into a feature

  • Kasi Lemmons (“Eve’s Bayou”) on writing for a different time period

  • George Romero (“Martin”) on writing horror on a budget

  • Rebecca Miller (“Personal Velocity”) on adapting short stories

  • Stuart Gordon (“Re-Animator”) on adaptations

  • Academy-Award Nominee Whit Stillman (“Metropolitan”) on cheap ways to make it look expensive

  • Miranda July (“Me and You and Everyone We Know”) on making your writing spontaneous

  • Alex Cox (“Repo Man”) on scaling the script to meet a budget

  • Joan Micklin Silver (“Hester Street”) on writing history on a budget

  • Bob Clark (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”) on mixing humor and horror

  • Amy Holden Jones (“Love Letters”) on writing romance on a budget

  • Henry Jaglom (“Venice/Venice”) on mixing improvisation with scripting

  • L.M. Kit Carson (“Paris, Texas”) on re-writing while shooting

  • Academy-Award Winner Kenneth Lonergan (“You Can Count on Me”) on script editing

  • Roger Nygard (“Suckers”) on mixing genres

This is the book for anyone who’s serious about writing a screenplay that can get produced! 

Buy the Book: “Fast, Cheap and Written That Way”

Comedian Wayne Federman of the history of stand-up comedy albums

Click here to listen to this podcast interview

John: I want to just kind of start at the beginning, if you have any idea who performed or produced or released the very first quote, unquote stand-up comedy album?

Wayne: The first album recorded, there's some controversy about it, but it's going to be either Redd Foxx’s Laugh of the Party, Volume 1, 1956. But in 1955, there was an album of Mort Sahl recorded, but it wasn't released until 1960, which was after he had already released another album. And it's a very tough question and a terrible answer but it would be probably those two guys, I would say, are in the running for the first comedy album would be Redd Foxx, and Mort Sahl.

John: Okay and the genre that Redd would slip into would be a genre that I didn't really follow that much, which was the party album.

Wayne: Correct. The party album concept was that these were albums that exactly as described, would be listened to, at a party, usually an adult party. So, it tended to have more what we would call baudy humor, it wouldn't be explicit, the way people speak now on comedy albums and in life. But at that time, it was something and these are usually all on minor labels. That because people could still get in trouble for swearing because of something called Community Standards back then. So, a lot of times in the record store—when there were record stores—you would have to ask for it specifically, it wouldn't be like up in the counter. It wouldn't be in this displayed, it would be like, do you have the new, let's say Rusty Warren album. Yes, she was like a singer who also did sort of baudy songs and told sort of jokes about, you know, breasts and guys getting laid and things like that. There was a number of them.

John: Knockers Up being the one I've ran across the most.

Wayne: Sold millions of copies, millions of copies.

[Music]

John: Just hard to imagine, these days, a party where the entertainment was you all sat around and listened to a record album. It’s quaint.

Wayne: Exactly. But if you think about it, the power of the comedy album was in the fact that for the first time you were transported to these adult nightclubs, or coffee houses, or theaters, where stand-up comedy was being performed. Before then you would never hear anything like that. You heard, there was obviously comedy records, but they were usually produced in a studio. So, this was all something very new.

John: And this was an outgrowth of the sort of explosion of nightclubs?

Wayne: It was a convergence of a number of things. Because if you think of those first big breakout albums, which was of course, the Redd Foxx, and then Mort Saul, and then Shelley Berman, and then a guy named Bob Newhart, those were kind of like the first ones. So, those were all comedians still trying to break through. This wasn't like big Jimmy Durrante, or Milton Berle or Bob Hope, or any of the big nightclub headliners weren't putting out their records. As a matter of fact, there was a big divide between the older generation, or let me put it this way, maybe the less established generation, and the established guys because they were making you know, this is when Vegas started hitting, so these guys, it's like, yeah, Alan King was making, whatever, 15 grand a week or 20 grand a week and he was like, “why should I put my act out for $1.98?” It just didn't make any sense, not realizing the transformative power of like, oh, my God, we get to go to a nightclub here in our living room in Des Moines, but also the promotional value of those albums. So, there was a real divide about whether to put this stuff out or not.

John: So, would the analog be comedians today doing podcasts in order to build up their audience so when they do go on the...

Wayne: Very similar. Yes, that's a great analogy. Great analogy about stand ups and technology.

John: It's just a way to get your brand out there so that there is an audience when you show up in town.

Wayne: 100%. Yes. You got that.

John: At that point with Mort Sahl, he is a contemporary at that point with Lenny Bruce. They're running kind of on the same track, right?

Wayne: They're at the same time. Lenny Bruce is not as successful as Mort Sahl was at this time. Like you said, Mort Sahl started touring with a jazz band, the Dave Brubeck Trio or whatever that was and then he also got fame for kind of doing comedy in this new style, where as Lenny Bruce was still, he was playing strip clubs in Los Angeles. So, Lenny Bruce was primarily a Los Angeles act. It's a little later, while Mort Sahl was a little more famous. And Mort Sahl was really championed by local San Francisco writers at the papers and he just became a thing. It just became like, oh, you don't have to be in a tuxedo. You don't have to be doing mother-in-law jokes. You don't have to be doing any of these things that people would see in Vegas, like, oh, this is powerful, very powerful.

[Skit Audio]

John: That's a real shift from the Catskill comic where they were all named Jackie and they kind of trade routines  .

Wayne: Yes, there was. There was a number. There were some Mortys. There was some Buddys. It wasn't all Jackie's. But they all had that vibe, too. Yes.

John: I know at the beginning of Broadway Danny Rose when the comics are sitting in The Carnegie Deli and one of my favorite comics, Corbett Monica, talking and he's telling about a joke that he tells that died the other night.

[Skit Audio]

John: And there was this understanding, I thought, that the jokes were kind of interchangeable and you would—like a magician nowadays, if the two magicians are on the same show, they'll talk beforehand about we don't want to overlap tricks—and comics, I thought they used to have that same sort of discussion. They're both on the bill, so I'm going to do this some of you that you're not going to do this. Was it true that they just sort of traded stuff back and forth and it wasn't that personal comedy that Mort Sahl sort of...

Wayne: First, I get that as a general rule that is absolutely correct. That is absolutely correct. There were a number of Catskill comedians that did share material and it was all kind of the same persona. Like, I don't know if it was Morty Gunty or was that different than Corbett Monica, or Freddie Roman or all of those guys.

Yeah, but looking back, I feel like that's a little bit of a generalization, because certainly, there were comedians that were very creative. Like, there was a radio comedian called Fred Allen, who had a very popular show, and his act was not at all interchangeable with what Jack Benny was doing on stage, or even with Bob Hope was doing, or even what there was a comedian named Jean Carroll, who worked in New York City, even what she was doing or what Moms Mabley was doing. So, I think it's a little bit of a misnomer that every comedian before Mort Sahl an interchangeable act, wore a jacket and did mother-in-law jokes. But that did exist.

John: Getting back to Bob Newhart, I remember you talking on the podcast, that when he recorded his first album, that was the first time he had worked in a nightclub, is that right?

Wayne: That is correct.

John: But up until that point, he had just been, I mean, he must have been doing it.

Wayne: He was doing it but it was more he was doing it with his radio buddies. So, these were like little radio skits they would do or he would do when it's friend’s local radio show in Chicago. So, there were recordings of it that that guy sent to, I think it was Warner Brothers Records and they were like, yeah, oh, look, Mort Sahl has this hit album recorded at this little room. And then Shelley Berman based on Mort Sahl's recommendation, he has this crazy hit album also. You know, those are both on Verve Records, which was kind of a jazz label and Warner Brothers like, “we're a big company, let's get on this. Let's jump on this bandwagon.”

And so it was just a perfect timing and they sent him down to Houston, Texas to a place called The Tidelands and it's incredible, because he wasn't even, he wasn't the headliner. He was like opening for a singer or something. It's almost, it's mind blowing, because the whole thing about stand-up comedy, at least when I was starting was, “oh, it's gonna take you five years just to find your voice or find your own point of view or your own rhythm,” and now here was this guy right out of the gate recording an album that dominates the charts in such a powerful way that album wins the Record of the Year, beating out like Frank Sinatra, beating out the music acts, that's how big that album was.

[Skit Audio]

Wayne: Can I also tell you a little bit of trivia? I mean, I know you know it from the podcast but not only does that album win the Record of the year and Bob Newhart wins Best New Artist. But the album was so popular that he rushed out another album, The Buttoned-Down Mind Strikes Back, and that album won Best Comedy Album the same year. There's been nothing close to it. The only thing close was like when Chappelle put out four Netflix specials in one year, like there would have been nothing like that.

John: And that's the second album is pretty darn good.

Wayne: It is good. It is pretty good.

John: Maybe another one that I'm gonna pull up that I know Harry would have opened for would be a guy named Woody Woodbury.

Wayne: Yes, out of Florida.

 John: I found a number of his albums.

Wayne : They were huge sellers. I feel like he straddled the world between the party record and the traditional comedy record. Would you agree with that?

John: I would totally agree that yes, absolutely agree. That was his market.

Wayne: He has his own television show as well. He had a talk show that was sort of based on The Tonight Show a little bit like that version. And, he was definitely a huge player in early 60s stand-up comedy album boom.

[Skit Audio]

John: In the early 60s, you got Ed Sullivan’s Toast of the Town, The Ed Sullivan Show, right? How did the Ed Sullivan show help stand-up comics, and did their albums get them on The Ed Sullivan Show? Was there any connection between the two?

Wayne: Ed Sullivan is really important in the history of the stand-up comedian because he had this very popular show on Sunday night at eight o'clock on CBS. There was this family show that was—despite his limitations as a host and as a personality—it was beloved by the United States. He loved stand-up comics and almost every show had at least one sometimes two, sometimes two comics and a ventriloquist. There there was a lot of work for stand-up comedians, and this was the first time like you really saw a stand-up kind of doing their act, even though it was in obviously this theater, so it's not quite in the nightclub. But you would see that and it definitely helped comedians gets bookings in like Miami Beach or the Catskill Mountains or in New York at these big theaters that were called presentation houses. That's like the Roxy or Lowe's or The Paramount. These are big multi thousand seat theaters.

 Yeah, so Sullivan was the nightclub comic’s dream booking. And then when the album's came along, and he this is an interesting, like, again, there was a generational divide we talked about earlier. This is really where it hit because these new wave comedians, they call it, they despite them being a little more intellectual than the Catskill guys that they were still trying to get on Ed Sullivan Show. So, they would use an album to get there as opposed to a booking at let's say, the Latin Quarter or the Copa or so wherever, you know, Sullivan and his talent bookers would hang out in New York. So, yeah, he had all those guys all on. Now, I know a lot of comedians didn't like doing that show because right before they would go on, they would be like, oh, you can only do four tonight as opposed to the seven. It usually was a cutting situation. It's interesting.

John: What was the first comedy stand-up album that you ever got?

Wayne: It certainly wasn't The Bob Newhart. It wasn't any of those because I'm a little younger. I believe it was an album called Bill Cosby Is A Very Funny Fella, Right? Yes, Noah was his big breakout thing and I guess he had just done the Tonight Show and yes, I had that album as a kid. But it was more of the family had the album and I listened to it. But I do remember my uncle had an early Jackie Mason album that like, I'm the greatest comedian in the world or something like that, like, so I heard that as well. But Bill Cosby was very big in my house. So, it's hard to talk about him now because he's in jail.

John: So, a couple more personal questions...

Wayne: Anything! You got me. I'm here.

John: A favorite album or performer from that era of 60s and 70s.

Wayne: I really liked those George Carlin albums, but I have to say I felt there was a rerelease of Woody Allen's three Copix albums. I didn't have any of those that was just called The Nightclub Years. Yeah, that was I would say that was the main one that I was like, oh, this is insanely good. I really liked those Carlin albums. I even listened to those Richard Pryor ones that had the N word in the title. So thank you for asking. Yes, I would say those are the albums that I really fascinated me, but I listened to the you know, oh, let me give me another one. I thought the there was a Flip Wilson album that I also enjoyed very much that had the ugly baby routine on it.

John: Geraldine was on it, too?

Wayne: I think he'd be. I mean, he would always do a Geraldine type voice. There was a routine I remember used to do about Christopher Columbus and so Queen, the Queen of Spanish, Queen Isabel, that was in the Geraldine voice. It was that voice, but it was so great.

[Skit Audio]

Wayne: Can we go back really quickly?

John: Sure.

Wayne: Remember, I said that I love that Woody Allen album and that Shelley Berman album obviously albums were incredible. Those were all because those guys had seen more Mort Sahl perform and were like, “oh, I could do this is possible and stand up like this level of an intimate, not hyper performative style.” So, both of those guys were inspired to get into the stand-up game because of Mort Sahl.

Dying to make a feature? Learn from the pros!

"We never put out an actual textbook for the Corman School of Filmmaking, but if we did, it would be Fast, Cheap and Under Control." 
Roger Corman, Producer

★★★★★

It’s like taking a Master Class in moviemaking…all in one book!

  • Jonathan Demme: The value of cameos

  • John Sayles: Writing to your resources

  • Peter Bogdanovich: Long, continuous takes

  • John Cassavetes: Re-Shoots

  • Steven Soderbergh: Rehearsals

  • George Romero: Casting

  • Kevin Smith: Skipping film school

  • Jon Favreau: Creating an emotional connection

  • Richard Linklater: Poverty breeds creativity

  • David Lynch: Kill your darlings

  • Ron Howard: Pre-production planning

  • John Carpenter: Going low-tech

  • Robert Rodriguez: Sound thinking

And more!

Buy the Book: “Fast, Cheap and Under Control”

Write Your Screenplay with the Help of Top Screenwriters!

It’s like taking a Master Class in screenwriting … all in one book!

Discover the pitfalls of writing to fit a budget from screenwriters who have successfully navigated these waters already. Learn from their mistakes and improve your script with their expert advice.

"I wish I'd read this book before I made Re-Animator."
Stuart Gordon, Director, Re-Animator, Castle Freak, From Beyond

John Gaspard has directed half a dozen low-budget features, as well as written for TV, movies, novels and the stage.

The book covers (among other topics):

  • Academy-Award Winner Dan Futterman (“Capote”) on writing real stories

  • Tom DiCillio (“Living In Oblivion”) on turning a short into a feature

  • Kasi Lemmons (“Eve’s Bayou”) on writing for a different time period

  • George Romero (“Martin”) on writing horror on a budget

  • Rebecca Miller (“Personal Velocity”) on adapting short stories

  • Stuart Gordon (“Re-Animator”) on adaptations

  • Academy-Award Nominee Whit Stillman (“Metropolitan”) on cheap ways to make it look expensive

  • Miranda July (“Me and You and Everyone We Know”) on making your writing spontaneous

  • Alex Cox (“Repo Man”) on scaling the script to meet a budget

  • Joan Micklin Silver (“Hester Street”) on writing history on a budget

  • Bob Clark (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”) on mixing humor and horror

  • Amy Holden Jones (“Love Letters”) on writing romance on a budget

  • Henry Jaglom (“Venice/Venice”) on mixing improvisation with scripting

  • L.M. Kit Carson (“Paris, Texas”) on re-writing while shooting

  • Academy-Award Winner Kenneth Lonergan (“You Can Count on Me”) on script editing

  • Roger Nygard (“Suckers”) on mixing genres

This is the book for anyone who’s serious about writing a screenplay that can get produced! 

Buy the Book: “Fast, Cheap and Written That Way”