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

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.

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!

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! 

Hunter Lee Hughes on "Guys Reading Poems"

What was your filmmaking background before making "Guys Reading Poems"?

Outside of my experience acting, I'd say my crash course in filmmaking began when I served as the writer's assistant to Mardik Martin (co-writer, "Mean Streets" and "Raging Bull"). I didn't feel I could afford film school, but that job paid me $20/hour to learn from a master, whose simple, effective wisdom on the subject of screenwriting still guides me. The other mentor who shaped my early career was legendary acting coach Ivana Chubbuck. I trained in her master class for five years and slowly absorbed a method not only of developing characters as an actor, but of observing actors and communicating with them. Previous to "Guys Reading Poems," I wrote and produced the dark short film "Winner Takes All" and directed a 12-episode webseries called "Dumbass Filmmakers!" about a clueless installation artist making a difficult transition to directing films. It definitely felt like art imitating life. 

Where did the idea come from and what was the process for getting the script ready to shoot?

My maternal grandmother passed away in 2007 and I ended up with her poetry books. She was an avid reader of poetry and would read her poems aloud to keep her mind sharp. When I finally got around to reading the poetry books she collected, they became like little clues to who she was, as she'd interacted with the poems on the page, like underlining this sentence and circling a certain phrase or writing a note in the margin. So that got me interested in how individual poems could be revealing of the psychology of a film protagonist.
Getting the script ready to shoot....honestly the answer for me of how to get the script ready to shoot is the shot list, which is for me the bridge between what's written on the page and what you capture on set. You're forced in the shot list to start visualizing the mechanics of how you'll shoot rather than just seeing these compelling characters in an imaginary setting running free in your brain. I'm not a director that likes to leave things to chance on the set, so in this case, everything was shotlisted in advance and I always ask myself with every sentence I read in the final script, "How will the camera move to cover this? How will the people move within the frame? And why?" So for me, the shotlist is the way to do a final revision of the script because you realize little moments you need or don't need.

What was your casting process and did you change the script to match your final cast?

I consider "Guys Reading Poems" to be an ensemble of 15 actors. Of those 15, I already knew 12 of the actors and made offers to them without auditioning them. Two came through the audition process, Luke Judy, our seven-year old lead and also Blake Sheldon, who was the youngest of the seven poetry guys. I met Lydia Hearst through her manager Oren Segal and knew within seconds of meeting her that I'd make her an offer for the role of "The Actress." 
I originally was going to have the climactic scene between Patricia and Jerod silent, like so much of the rest of the movie. In the beginning, I was very rigid that the only "dialogue" should be the poems. But as we rehearsed, I started feeling that we needed to hear, in very simple words, the two of them resolve their relationship. And once I added dialogue to that scene, I realized that the entire section of the movie that takes place as Patricia leaves the prison and returns home needed to have dialogue. So I added dialogue here and there - to her interaction with the prison guard and also when she runs into the young man with the guitar. I realized that part of the movie that was taking place in the present needed that sort of ordinary, simple dialogue and that change was inspired by rehearsing with Patricia and Jerod.

What drove your decision to go with black & white ... and how did that decision make production easier and harder?

For me, the poetry lent itself to a 1950's boarding school kind of aesthetic and it wasn't a far leap from that to black-and-white. As a practical matter, black-and-white can hide a few things when you're dealing with a lower budget. I think it's easier to make a film look expensive with black-and-white. 

I'm not sure it made anything in production harder as much as it comes up in the conversation about distribution. Some distributors just are not interested in black-and-white films. 

What type of camera(s) did you use and what did you love (and hate) about it?

We shot on the Red Epic Monochrome and I think the image quality is really remarkable, the detail, the richness of the black tones. I think the camera inspired everyone on the camera crew, and especially our lighting team, because you know it's maybe once a year, if that, that they get to work on a black-and-white feature. It brought out the best in our team. I suppose that because our costume designer Shpetim Zero is so amazing and Lydia and Patricia are both so beautiful, every now and then I'd look at one of them in one those beautiful costumes and wish we could shoot it in color, which of course you can't with the monochrome chip, but that was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of working with such an amazing black-and-white camera.

Did the movie change much in the editing, and if so, why did you make the changes?

Certainly, the movie evolved in editing. In fact, we shot the poems first and it was our editor Patrick Kennelly who convinced me that I had to find a way to take the poems and incorporate them into a feature film. Including the poetry and the narrative, the entire shoot was 15 days, so we didn't have a limitless amount of options. We shot what was in the script and not a lot extra. But I think Patrick Kennelly (our editor) is just brilliant and I especially love the montage flashes in the Death chapter. You might think a super weird film like ours changes more drastically in the editing. But we were remarkably close to the script in terms of what was shot and the scenes remained in close to the same order as they were designed on the page.

Can you talk about your distribution plan for recouping costs?

We have an international sales agent, Patrick Holzen of Bodhi Tree Media Group and are repped domestically by Daniel Bort at Omni Media Arts. National Poetry Month in April is important to us. We're screening at the Rush Arts Gallery in New York City on April 4th. We have our monthly open mic event in Los Angeles on April 6th and then we open theatrically for a brief, one-week run at Arena Cinemalounge in Hollywood on April 28th. From there, we'll move to DVD, SVOD and VOD but the details of that are still up in the air. I can say this. We now see the feature film "Guys Reading Poems" as the most intense offering in the experience of a wider movement of "Guys Reading Poems." Our open mic nights draw 40-60 people each time and we sell t-shirts there. We've built a respectable following on Facebook where we highlight the videos of our audience reading their own poems with plans to expand the open mic night to other cities. So we've designed the experience of "Guys Reading Poems" as a positive feedback loop between providing open mic nights for our audiences and the actual film.

What was the smartest thing you did during production? The dumbest?

I committed. I have no regrets whatsoever about the kind of effort I made. The shoot took so much out of me - mentally, physically, emotionally - but I honestly did give it everything I had. And I'm not sure I can take credit for this, but I noticed that so many people in the cast and creative team were just as driven to figure this movie out and to go out and shoot it. As a director, you set the tone. So I think I set a good example in that way and that was smart.  I think the crew respects you more when they see how hard you're thinking and working and figuring it out. The dumbest mistakes probably all centered around time management with a child actor. When they are seven, you have so little time with them when they can actually work. And, in our case, Luke is basically the lead of the movie. So one time, I remember I wanted him on set early to rehearse with him and that was super dumb because it ended up being two wasted hours and then he got pulled from set later at a crucial time because that was his limit for the day. But you sort of just adjust and somehow get the movie done.

And, finally, what did you learn from making this feature that you will take to other projects?
I'm sure it's been said before, but I think a good analogy for directing movies is "the good parent." A good parent knows that their kids have own identity and sensibility and they will communicate that identity to you. So, more than anything, being a good parent involves being a good listener and observer and then fortifying your child towards the life they were meant to live. I believe a film is like a child and our job as directors is not to control the child or force it to be something it's not. Your job is to listen to the film and what it wants to be and then lend the film your strength when it needs its essential qualities nurtured or protected. I feel like I learned how that process feels through making "Guys Reading Poems" and will take the same experience to the next one.

 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!

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! 

Gary King on "How Do You Write a Joe Schermann Song"

What was your filmmaking background before setting out to make "How Do You Write a Joe Schermann Song"?
I'd done a few feature films but didn't have any experience taking on the scope of a movie musical, which involved progressing the story through music and song.  Even though I've loved musicals from a very young age, I wasn't well versed in the actual professional side, dealing with how to talk to dancers and musicians. So I surrounded myself with people who were way more knowledgeable in musical theater (Joe Schermann, Christina Rose, Mark DiConzo), as the life of an aspiring Broadway artist was the world I wanted to explore. 
However, my experience of producing several feature films helped me logistically complete the movie musical. I don't feel I could've made the film without years of knowledge of how to shoot a movie on a low budget with a skeleton crew. We made SCHERMANN SONG with just a crew of four people (including myself). 

Where did the idea come from and what was the writing process like?
The idea originated from my desire to explore the unrecognized artists struggling creatively and financially in New York City. However it evolved over several drafts and grew to more of an examination of artistic integrity and how relationships and friendships can really affect one's career and finding that balance.
It took about 8 months to get to the shooting draft. It's funny that the script says it's just "Rev 2" but the way I write is I make tons of passes at the script over and over again before updating the title page. I didn't have any of the songs or music beforehand, however I intentionally wrote in placeholder cues (and sometimes temporary song titles) of where I wanted the songs to happen.  That way, Joe Schermann, who did the music and lyrics, knew what was being explored thematically and who was supposed to be singing.

Can you talk about how you raised your budget and your financial plan for distribution and recouping your costs? 
We mainly financed the film via Kickstarter, raising close to $50k from over 400 generous supporters. I was lucky in that we signed a distribution deal with FilmBuff even before heading into the 2012 festival circuit. So the pressure to get a deal wasn't there as we toured the fests. It was so enjoyable to screen, network and win several awards (http://joeschermannsong.com/press/) already knowing we had a company behind us who wanted to release the film.
The wonderful surprise is due to our international film festival success, our film is being released digitally worldwide on March 26th.  People can visit www.WatchJSS.com to find out where they can see it. I couldn't be happier for everyone involved. This is exactly what we wanted, the chance for audience around the world to see our labor of love.

What camera(s) did you use and what did you love and hate about it?
We used the Canon 5D for 95% of the shooting, and the Canon 7D for some dance sequences and off-speed shots. I loved the ability to shoot anywhere I wanted in the city without a permit and not have anyone know we were making a film. Also, the camera just produces a gorgeous image, so much so that some people believe we had a much higher end camera for the film.
The main drawback was its tiny LCD screen. I had a Zacuto device that magnified the images about 2 times the size, however I still wasn't sure if focus was precise or not. And also this was the first film I shot myself and directed -- so juggling cinematographer and directing duties was a pretty arduous task. I tell people now it was probably one of the most stressful things I've done on the set, but now looking back it was one of the most rewarding.

You wore a lot of hats on this production -- Director, Producer, Writer, DP, Editor. What's the upside and the downside of doing that?
I'm actually pretty proud of the fact that I was able to do so much and not have people think that it was just me. At least that's the hope. It's nothing I really do by choice, this time around the DPs I wanted to shoot the film all had schedule conflicts. And I always tell people I produce out of necessity, not for the love. I hate producing films actually, but I guess I can get it done and that way I don't have to rely on someone else.  To me, that's the worst thing an indie/DIY filmmaker can do: hope that someone else will make the film for them. 
Having said that, it's my dream to not have to juggle so many positions. I do it a lot of time because mainly it's a budgetary thing (or lack of one). If I had my way, all I'd love to do is direct; occasionally write a screenplay every few years while directing other scripts in between. That's one of my ultimate goals.

What was the smartest thing you did during production? The dumbest?
The smartest thing....hire talented artists around me. Surrounding myself with a strong team.  
The dumbest thing...choosing a shooting location situated on the top floor of a walk-up building with no air-conditioning as our main characters' apartment. It was July and one of the hottest summers ever in New York. Pure misery.

And, finally, what did you learn from making the film that you have taken to other projects?
Actually, I really learned all about camera lenses. It sounds techy and boring, but I really dove in and fell in love with them. Moving forward it'll help me talk to cinematographers on another level that I haven't been able to articulate in the past.
Also, making SCHERMANN SONG was just a blast to do with people I loved. I don't think I'd ever want to make movies any other way.

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!

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! 

Nicholas Meyer on Houdini, Sherlock Holmes, Star Trek and Time After Time

John Gaspard: Do you remember what it was that caused your dad to write that book (about the psychology behind Houdini)?

Nicholas Meyer: I know something about it. He was interested, the subjects that kind of absorbed his attention were the sons of passive or absent fathers. This was a topic which probably originated from his experiences with his own father, my grandfather, who was a very interesting man and a kind of a world beater, but who spent so much of his time doing what they said in The Wizard of Oz—being a philip, philip, philip, a good deed doer—that he didn't have enough time for fathering. He was not a bad man at all, quite a conscientious one. But the parenting was left to his wife and I think my father missed and was affected by not having an involved father. And I think that a colleague of my dad's said to him Houdini, that's the guy for you. And that's how he did it. I'm only sorry that he didn't live to see the two-night television series based on his book.

Jim Cunningham: I enjoyed it immensely as a Houdini fan. It was fascinating and fun and Adrian Brody is terrific, as is the woman who plays Bess. I thought I knew a lot about Houdini and there was a lot in there that I did not know. And I really enjoyed the opening to it, which suggests that it's all fact and all fiction, and it's our job to figure out which is which. How did you come to being involved with the TV mini-series about your dad's book?

Nicholas Meyer: I have been friends and worked for many years with a television producer named Jerry Abrams. I started working with Jerry in 1973 with the first teleplay that I wrote was for a television movie called Judge Dee in the Haunted Monastery. There was a—China apparently invented everything first, including detective stories—and a circuit court judge in the seventh century, Judge Dee Jen Jay, solved mysteries and people wrote detective stories about him and now there are movies about him.

But back in 1972, or something like that, and I had just come to Hollywood and was looking for work and didn't know anybody. And I met Jerry Abrams and I met a director named Jeremy Kagan and I'm happy to say both of these gentlemen are alive and still my friends. They gave me a shot to write this Judge Dee in the Haunted Monastery because I think ABC thought they were going to get a Kung Fu movie out of it, which it wasn't. But it was a television movie with an all Asian cast. The monastery in question was the old Camelot castle on the Warner Brothers lot and that's where I met Jerry. And Jerry and I've been friends ever since. Jerry’s son is JJ Abrams, who directs movies.

Anyway, Jerry said to me a couple of years ago, let's do Houdini and I said, Oh, funny, you should say that because my dad wrote a very interesting book about Houdini. I would be interested if it were based on his book. I would only be interested and that's how it got made.

John Gaspard: What was your process? Did you know it would be two nights going in? Did you know it's going to be that long? How did you get started and what other resources did you use, because I know there's stuff mentioned in the movie that I don't remember being in your dad's books. You must have had to dig a little bit.

Nicholas Meyer: There's a lot of books about Houdini, that I read many, many books, because my dad's book is distinguished—if one could call it that—by being the only book of all the books about Houdini that attempts some inner explanation of his psychological process. The why? Why would you do this? Why do you feel the need to do this? Other books will tell you what Houdini did, and some will tell you how he did it. But my dad's book, as I say, it kind of explores the why of it.

And so I read these other books to supplement the rest of the how and the why and I've amassed quite a large Houdini library. When I say large, probably compared to yours not so much, but I must have like 10 books about Houdini and flying aeroplanes and Houdini and Arthur Conan Doyle and spiritualism and so forth. So, yes, I read all those to supplement what I was trying to condense.

I don't remember whether at this point whether it was proposed as two nights or three nights or whatever. I also know that if it hadn't been for Adrian Brody agreeing to play Houdini, it never would have happened. They weren't going to do it without a star.

Jim Cunningham: He's great.

John Gaspard: I was telling Jim earlier, before you got on, that my wife was kind enough to sit down and watch it with me. She's always worried in things like this, that she’s going see how something's done. She doesn't want to know how magic is done at all. And when we got to the end, she said, “Houdini seems so nice. He's such a likeable guy.” And I think that's really more Adrian Brody.

Nicholas Meyer: Oh, yeah. The Adrian Brody. As I say, the movie would not have got made without Adrian. I'm not sure that he wasn't to a large degree cast against type. I think Houdini was a guy with ants in his pants, a kind of frenetic character. And I don't think when you read about him in any detail, that he was what you'd call nice. I think he was a person who had a lot of charm that he could switch on and off like a tap.  

And I think this is one of the things that my dad's book brings out, and we tried to bring it out in the movie: that Houdini's whose own father was a failure of flop and absent parent. So, I think Houdini spent a lot of his life looking for substitutes or alternative father figures. And I think the first one he probably stumbled on was the French magician Robert-Houdin, from whom he took his name. And I think Houdini's pattern, at least according to my dad's reading of it, was to find father figures and fall hard for them, only to ultimately become disenchanted and alienated and furious with them. Probably, because ultimately, they weren't his real father. But I think there was something like that going on.

John Gaspard: Yes, it's pretty clear that's what happened with Doyle as well.

Nicholas Meyer: Yes, but he had better reason than in some other cases to be disenchanted with Doyle because Doyle's Atlantic City séance with Lady Doyle, Houdini ultimately regarded as a real betrayal. Because he decided, probably correctly, that the contact with his mother via Lady Doyle doing spirit writing was fake.

And by the way, it's not that Mrs. Doyle or Lady Doyle might not have believed what she was doing. It just didn't track for two reasons: Houdini experienced this contact with his mother, and he was as obsessed with her as he was with the fact of an absent father. And he was so overcome when she spoke to him via the spirit writing that it was a couple of days before he realized that his mother didn't speak a word of English. And she had communicated via lady Doyle in English, she only spoke Yiddish. Doyle got around this difficulty by explaining that the medium in this case, Lady Doyle, worked as a kind of simultaneous translator.

And Houdini said, yeah, but—and this was the second item—it was his birthday. And she never mentioned it and she always sent him something on his birthday. And he then denounced Doyle and Lady Doyle, as quote, menaces to mankind.

John Gaspard: So, were you involved in a day-to-day way with production? And I'm wondering why you didn't direct it?

Nicholas Meyer: I was involved. The whole movie was shot in Budapest, everything and I was involved. I was not invited to direct. I have not directed really since the death of my wife in 1993. I had two small children to raise and by the time it was, like, possible for me to go back since they are now grown up and busy. I was sort of out of a game.

John Gaspard: Oh, that's too bad. You're a terrific director.

Nicholas Meyer: I'm not arguing with you.

John Gaspard: So, once you were scripting it, and you were using other sources, how concerned were you about this is fact, this is fiction?

Nicholas Meyer: That's a very good question and it doesn't just apply to Houdini. It applies largely to the whole issue of dramatizing the stories based on real events.

And by the way, you could make the case in a way that there's no such thing as fiction; that all fiction ultimately can be traced back to something real. I'll give you two examples off the top of my head: one, Moby Dick was based on a real Whale called Mocha Dick because of his color; and, as Heinrich Schliemann proved, when he discovered Troy, most legends, most myths have their origins somewhere in the mists of time, in some kind of reality. It turns out there was a place called Troy. So, he was not far off the mark.

It's a knotty question with a “k” how much we owe to fact and how much we get to mush around and dramatize? And the answer has to be inevitably elastic. The problem is that people are neither taught, nor do they read history anymore. We are not taught civics. We are not taught history.

Nobody knows anything and so by default, movies and television are where we get our history, and that history is not always truthful. It is dramatized for example, in that Academy Award winning movie, The Deer Hunter, we learn that the North Vietnamese made American prisoners of war in Vietnam, play Russian roulette. There is no evidence, no historical evidence that they ever did any such thing. And yet, if you're getting your history from the movies, that's what you see and someone said that seeing is believing. In any case, you have to sort of always be looking over your own shoulder when you are dramatizing history and realizing that, yes, you can tell a story with scope, dates and characters. But what's the point where you cross a line and start inventing things out of whole cloth?

I’ll give you another example: was Richard the Third really the monster that Shakespeare portrays? Now, remember, Shakespeare is writing for the granddaughter of the man who killed Richard the Third and usurped his throne and called himself king. You could make a very different case that that guy was a scumbag and that Richard was not, but you know, Shakespeare was in business. The Globe Theatre was a money-making operation and Henry the Seventh’s granddaughter was the Queen of England. So, there are a lot of variables here.

When you sit down to dramatize, I've worked for the History Channel and I can tell you the history channel will not make a movie where Americans look bad. The History Channel will not make a movie that questions any point in our own history. Our right to the moral high ground. It's a point of view and they have a demographic and Americans don't want to be shown any of their own flaws or asked to think about them.

Jim Cunningham; Well, who does? Can I ask questions about the espionage? Part of what I witnessed last night, although I had sort of a vague memory, that there is some espionage connection or perhaps connection? In the first episode that he was working for at least the American government and perhaps the English government as well. Is there evidence for that?

Nicholas Meyer: Circumstantial evidence.

Jim Cunningham: Yes, and I suppose that it could still be even at this late date protected in some way in terms of, I don't know them, not admitting, or maybe no real hard evidence exists anymore, right?

Nicholas Meyer: I'm more inclined to think that no real hard evidence exists. Although we all know that somebody said, truth is the daughter of time. But a lot of evidence has for a lot of things, not merely in this country, but also England has been redacted and eliminated and buried. You know, how many of your listeners know the story of Alan Turing?

Alan Turing may have shortened World War Two by as much as two years by inventing the computer that helped break the German Enigma code. Alan Turing signed the Official Secrets Act which meant that his wartime work could never be revealed. Alan Turing was gay. After the war was over, Alan Turing was arrested on a morals and decency charge and he could not tell the world who he was and so he was sentenced to some kind of chemical castration, I believe and he killed himself.

And all of this remained a secret for the next 55 years before the world's, you know, learned and suddenly there was a play called Breaking the Code and then there was the Enigma novel by Robert Harris and then there was the movie, which is very inaccurate, and very troublesome to me, The Imitation Game. Because in The Imitation Game, the first thing he does when he's arrested, is tell the cop who he is. With a crushing irony, as well as inaccuracy, is it there's no way he was allowed to tell. That was the price you pay when you sign the Official Secrets Act. So that movie kind of bugged me.

Whereas for example, Enigma, which I think is one of my favorite movies, doesn't bug me at all because it doesn't call him Alan Turing and therefore, he's not gay, and it's a different story entirely spun out of inspired by, but not pretending to be Alan Turing.

Jim Cunningham: Well, now I'm gonna have to watch that movie because I don't think I've seen it.

Nicholas Meyer: You never saw Enigma?

Jim Cunningham: I don't believe I saw Enigma.

Nicholas Meyer: It's the only movie produced by Mick Jagger and Lorne Michaels, written by Tom Stoppard. Kate Winslet, Dougray, Scott, Jeremy Northam. Anyway, it's a fantastic movie, but you have to watch it like five times in order to understand everything that's going on because Tom Stoppard is not going to make it easy.

John Gaspard: Just a quick side note here. I remember reading somewhere that Mick Jagger was a possible first choice for Time After Time.

Nicholas Meyer: Yeah, for Jack the Ripper.

John Gaspard: Okay, interesting. I prefer the choice you came up with.

Nicholas Meyer:  Well, when they—Warner Brothers—were trying to sort of figure out how to make this movie, quote, commercial (they were so surprised when it was a hit), they suggested Mick Jagger as Jack the Ripper. And he was in LA at the time touring and I really didn't understand the politics of not just filmmaking, but you know, sort of office politics generally. And my first reply was no, you know, you might believe him as the Ripper, but you'd never believe him—or I didn't think you would believe him—as a Harley Street surgeon. And they said, You mean you won't even meet him? And that's when I said, oh, okay, I get it. I have to agree to meet. So I met him and then I said, fellas, I still don't, you know, think this can work. And so we went on to David Warner.

Jim Cunningham: I think that was the first film I became aware of David Warner and of course, it colored my opinion of David Warner for everything I've seen him in since, including him as Bob Cratchit in a version of A Christmas Carol. I kept thinking to myself, don't turn your back on him. He's a killer. He's a stone-cold killer, because of Time After Time, which is still one of my favorite movies.

Nicholas Meyer: Oh, thank you so much.

John Gaspard: We promised not to geek out too much. But I have to tell you that the hotel room scene between him and McDowell, I still pull up once or twice a year to look at the writing and the acting in that scene. “You're literally the last person on Earth expected to see.” They're both so good in that scene.

Nicholas Meyer: They are that, they are.

John Gaspard: I think you mentioned in your memoir in passing that when you did The 7% Solution there was some back and forth with the Doyle estate. We—Jim and I—have a friend, Jeff Hatcher, who wrote the screenplay for Mr. Holmes, which is based on a book. Once the movie came out, it did run into some issues with the Doyle estate, because the writer had taken some characteristics of Holmes from the later books …

Nicholas Meyer: It's all bullshit. All that is bullshit. The Doyle estate, which was once the richest literary estate in the world, was run into the ground by his descendants and their in laws and they don't care anything about Sherlock Holmes. All they care about is money. And what they try to do is to stick up movie companies and book companies and say you've got to pay. And back when Holmes legitimately fell into copyright, which is when I wrote The 7% Solution, yes, I had to pay and I understood that. I mean, I didn't understand it when I wrote the book because I was a kid. But I understood it when it was explained to me.

What since happened is they continue, even though he's out of copyright, to try to pretend that he is or that one or two stories are etc. My friend, Les Clinger, who is a business manager but also happens to be a lawyer and a Holmes’ enthusiast, took the estate to court and won. He broke that bullshit stranglehold that they were trying to exercise on anybody who wanted to write or create or make a movie about Holmes.

Now, it's also true that big companies like Warner Brothers, or Paramount or something, if they make a Sherlock Holmes movie, and the Doyle estate comes sniffling to their door, find it cheaper to say, here's $10,000, Go away, than it is to bother to do what Les did, which was take them to court. It's just, it's blackmail, you've all seen the Godfather, you know, give me a little something to wet my beak is what this is all about. I have nothing good to say about them and what they did with Mr. Holmes, your friend's movie, was they waited until the movie was about to come out before they hit him.

John Gaspard: Jim, I should mention, you probably don't know this, that and this is the truth, the man we're talking to is the man for whom the thing at the beginning of a DVD that says the opinions expressed here are not those of this company. He's the reason that's on DVDs.

Jim Cunningham: Is that right?

Nicholas Meyer: Yes, I will explain because I'm very proud of it.

I've made a couple of contributions to civilization. One of them is the movie The Day After, it's my nuclear war movie. And the other is this little sign. And it happened when they were preparing the DVD release of Star Trek Two: the Wrath of Khan. I was interviewed and asked to explain my contributions to the making the movie, the script, the directing, etc. So, I told the story about how I came to write the script. And the DVD lady who subsequently became a very good friend of mine said, “Gee, the lawyers say we can't use any of what you told us.” And I said, “And why is that?” And she said, Paramount was worried about getting in trouble with the Writers Guild, because you are not credited as the author and you wrote this sort of under the table, the script. And I said, Well, why don't you just take me out of the whole DVD? Because if I can't tell the truth about it, I don't want to be in it.

And she said, “That's what I hoped you would say. Now, I've got some ammo.” So, she went back and she came back and she said, okay, here's the deal. And the deal now applies to every studio. “The opinions expressed in this interview, are not those of Paramount Pictures, its employees or affiliates.” 

What this does is it stops those interviews from being bullshit puff pieces and allows them to become oral histories. Now, different people may have different oral histories of the same thing. You put them all on the DVD, but suddenly, you've opened up a whole world to telling things that really happened or that the tellers think really happened, or are their opinions without the studio, worried that they're going to be sued, because of that little disclaimer. And they all have that now and that's my contribution.

Jim Cunningham: It's great. Now, I promised John before this interview that I would not talk Star Trekwith you, but since you've opened the door a little bit here. Now, that you say that you wrote Wrath of Khan under the table, can you just flesh that out for me? It might not ever be in the podcast, but I'm an incredible Star Trek fan. So, I'm interested in this story.

Nicholas Meyer: Well, very quickly, I knew nothing about Star Trek when I met Harve Bennett, the producer of what was going to be the second Star Trek movie. He showed me the first movie. He showed me some of the episodes and I got kind of a jones to make an outer space, a space opera. And I realized once I started to familiarize myself with Captain Kirk that he reminded me of Captain Hornblower, which were the books by CS Forester that I read when I was a kid, about a captain in the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars, who had adventures and a girl in every port, which sounded good to me. I was 12. I think it was 13 or something and so I thought, “Oh, this is Hornblower and outer space. This is destroyers. This is submarines.”

So, I made a deal with Paramount and Harve Bennett to direct a Star Trek movie for them, which was going to be their second movie. And Harve said, draft five of the script is coming in. So, I went home and waited for draft five. And, you know, I looked up and it was three or four weeks later and wondered whatever happened, because I was starting to think about spaceships and stuff like that. And he said, “Oh, I can't send you the script. It's not good. I can't.” I said, “Well, what about draft four, draft three, whatever?” And he said, “You don't understand. All these different drafts are simply separate attempts to get another Star Trek movie. They're unrelated.”

And I said, “Well send them all to me. I want to read them.” And he said, “Really?” I said, “Yeah.”

And in those days, you didn't hit Send. A truck, drove up, a van, and it had a lot of scripts. And I'm a very slow reader and I started. I read all these scripts and then I said, “Why don't you and your producing partner, Robert Salem, come up to my house and let's have a chat about this because I have an idea.” And so they showed up, and I had my ubiquitous legal pad and I said, “Why don't we make a list of everything we like in these five scripts? It could be a major plot. It could be a subplot. It could be a sequence. It could be a scene. It could be a character, it could be a line of dialogue, I don't care. Let's just make the list and then I'll try to write a new screenplay that incorporates as many of these elements as we pick.” And they didn't look happy and I thought, I don't get a lot of ideas. This was my idea and I said, “What’s wrong? What's wrong with that?”

And they said, “Well, the problem is that if we don't have a screenplay within 12 days, Industrial Light and Magic, the special effects house for the movie, say they can't deliver the shots in time for the June opening.” And I said, “What June opening? “And I only directed one movie in my life, and these guys had booked the theatres for a movie that didn't exist. And I said, “Well, okay, I'll try to do this in 12 days, but we got to pick the stuff now.”

And they still weren't happy. And I said, “So, what is it? What's the problem?” And they said, “Well, you know, let's be honest, we couldn't even make your deal in 12 days.” And at this point, I was like, foaming at the mouth. I said, “Look, guys, forget the deal. Forget the money. Forget the credit. I'm not talking about directing. We've already got that signed, sealed and delivered. But if we don't do this, now, there's gonna be no movie, yes or no?”

And I was an idiot, because I at that point gave away you know, what turned out to be significant. So, I didn't invent Kirk meets his son. I didn't invent Khan. I didn't invent Savak. I didn't invent the Genesis Planet. I didn't invent any of those things. I just took them and played with them like a Rubik's Cube and poured my, essentially it's all my dialogue, Harve wrote a few lines, but I wrote most of it.

John Gaspard: Well, it certainly worked.

Jim Cunningham: Oh, boy. Yeah, absolutely. And I will not bring up The Undiscovered Country because I promised John I wouldn't. The 7% Solution is very interesting. You took one thing, and you extrapolated out from that an entire kind of reality about Holmes that had not been explored. And it's similar to kind of what your father did with Houdini. And did that ever occur to you that there was there's a similarity there somehow?

Nicholas Meyer: Well, I did 7% before he did Houdini.

Jim Cunningham: He owes you then.

Nicholas Meyer:  Oh, yeah. He does. It's interesting. I was not the first person to put together Holmes and Freud. In fact, Freud knew that he'd been compared to Holmes. Freud loved to read Sherlock Holmes stories. That was his bedtime reading and at some point, he even wrote in one of his case histories, “I follow the labyrinth of her mind, Sherlock Holmes-like until it led me to…” So he knew about this comparison.

And there was a doctor at Yale, a famous psychiatrist/drug expert, who wrote a paper that my father gave me to read about Holmes, Freud and the cocaine connection. Because Holmes is a cocaine user and for a time, so was Freud. And when my book came out and was the number one best-selling novel in the United States for 40 weeks, I got sued by this doctor at Yale for plagiarism. This is like the first successful thing I'd ever done in my life and this guy was saying I ripped him off. Because he was probably walking across campus and people were saying, “Hey, doc, hey, professor, that guy in the New York Times you ripped you off.”

So, I got sued. This is how you know you're hot is when you get sued. But it was devastating to me. It was devastating and it was expensive, because I had to defend myself. I had a lawyer and the lawyer said, “They have no case. We will ask for something called summary judgment.” And I said, “Does that mean we have to wait till July?” And he goes, no, no, no, it's not about that x couldn't resist summary judgment. Yeah, that happened in the summertime.

Summary judgment turns out to mean that the facts of the case are not in dispute. No one can dispute that I read his essay. I put it in my acknowledgments. I thanked him. I read it. The question is, what is the definition of plagiarism? It turns out, you cannot copyright an idea. You can only copyright the expression of an idea. The words. I hadn't used his words. I haven't used any of his. I didn't write an academic paper. I wrote a novel. I wrote a story. So, I won and then he appealed and I won again, end of story.

So, it didn't originate with me, nothing originates with me. Moby Dick was based on another whale. Emma Bovary was a real person, on and on and on.

If you read the history or a biography, you understand that in good faith, efforts have been made to lay out the facts. But when you read a historical novel, you understand that the facts have been mushed around and dramatized, that the author has assumed the dramatist’s privilege, his prerogative, to help things along.

There's an Italian phrase, se non è vero, è ben trovato. If it didn't happen that way, it should have.

I’ll give you another example: Queen Elizabeth the first and her cousin and rival Mary Queen of Scots, whom Elizabeth subsequently had beheaded, never met in real life. They'd never met. But of all the 4,622 movies, plays, operas, novellas, ballets, whatever that are, they always meet.

Because it ain't cool if they don't meet.

John Gaspard: It's a better story.

Nicholas Meyer: It's a better story.

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!

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! 

Daniel Titley on the lost classic, "London After Midnight"

So, Daniel, when did you first become aware of London After Midnight?

Daniel: I was about seven years old when I first stumbled into Lon Chaney through my love of all things Universal horror, and just that whole plethora of characters and actors that you just knew by name, but hadn't necessarily seen away from the many still photographs of Frankenstein, Dracula, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And the Phantom was the one to really spark my interest.

But this was prior to eBay. I couldn't see the film of Lon Chaney's Phantom of the Opera for a year. So, I kind of had the ultimate build to books and documentaries, just teasing me, teasing me all the time. And when I eventually did watch a few documentaries, the one thing that they all had in common was the name Lon Chaney.

I just thought I need to learn more about this character Lon Chaney, because he just found someone of superhuman proportions just who have done all of these crazy diverse characters. And, that's where London After Midnight eventually peeked out at me and, occupied a separate interest as all the Chaney characterizations do.

So how did you get into the Universal films? Were you watching them on VHS? Were they on tv? Did the DVDs happen by then?

Daniel: I was still in the VHS days. My dad is a real big fan of all this as well. So he first saw Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on TV when he was a kid. And prior to me being born he had amassed a huge VHS collection and a lot of those had Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Henry Hull, Claude Rains, Vincent Price, what have you.

And a lot of them were dedicated to Universal horrors. And as a young curious kid, my eyes eventually crossed these beautiful cases and I really wanted to watch them. I think my first one I ever watched was The Mummy's Tomb or Curse of the Mummy. And it's just grown ever since, really.

You're starting at the lesser end of the Universal monsters. It's like someone's starting the Marx Brothers at The Big Store and going, "oh, these are great. I wonder if there's anything better?"

Daniel: I really had no immediate go-to reference for London after Midnight, away from one or two images in a book. Really clearly they were very impactful images of Chaney, skulking around the old haunted mansion with Edna Tichenor by his side with the lantern, the eyes, the teeth, the cloak, the top hat, the webs, everything. Pretty much everything that embodies a good atmospheric horror movie, but obviously we couldn't see it.

So that is all its fangs had deepened itself into my bloodstream at that point, just like, why is it lost? Why can't I see it? And again, the term lost film was an alien concept to me at a young age. I've always been a very curious child. Anything that I don't know or understand that much, even things I do understand that well, I always have to try to find out more, 'cause I just can't accept that it's like a bookend process. It begins and then it ends.

And that was the thing with London after Midnight. Everything I found in books or in little interviews, they were just all a bit too brief. And I just thought there has to be a deeper history here, as there are with many of the greatest movies of all time. But same with the movies that are more obscure. There is a full history there somewhere because, 'cause a film takes months to a year to complete.

It was definitely a good challenge for me. When we first had our first home computer, it was one of those very few early subjects I was typing in like crazy to try to find out everything that I could. And, that all incubated in my little filing cabinet, which I was able to call upon years later.

Some things which were redundant, some things which I had the only links to that I had printed off in advance quite, sensibly so, but then there were certain things that just had lots of question marks to me. Like, what year did the film perish? How did it perish? The people who saw the film originally?

And unlike a lot of Chaney films, which have been covered in immense detail, London after Midnight, considering it's the most famous of all lost films, still for me, had major holes in it that I just, really wanted to know the answers to.

A lot of those answers, eventually, I found, even people who knew and institutions that knew information to key events like famous MGM Fire, they were hard pressed to connect anything up, in regards to the film. It was like a jigsaw puzzle. I had all these amazing facts. However, none of them kind of made sense with each other.

My favorite thing is researching and finding the outcomes to these things. So that's originally what spiraled me into the storm of crafting this, initial dissertation that I set myself, which eventually became so large. I had to do it as a book despite, I'd always wanted to do a book as a kid.

When you see people that you idolize for some reason, you just want to write a book on them. Despite, there had been several books on Lon Chaney. But I just always knew from my childhood that I always wanted to contribute a printed volume either on Chaney or a particular film, and London after Midnight seemed to present the opportunity to me.

I really just didn't want it to be a rehash of everything that we had seen before or read before in other accounts or in the Famous Monsters of Filmland Magazine, but just with a new cover. So, I thought I would only do a book if I could really contribute a fresh new perspective on the subject, which I hope hopefully did.

Oh, you absolutely did. And this is an exhaustive book and a little exhausting. There's a ton of stuff in here. You mentioned Famous Monster of the Filmland, which is where I first saw that image. There's at least one cover of the magazine that used that image. And Forrest Ackerman had some good photos and would use them whenever he could and also would compare them to Mark the Vampire, the remake, partially because I think Carol Borland was still alive and he could interview her. And he talked about that remake quite a bit.

But that iconic image that he put on the cover and whenever he could in the magazine--in my mind when you think of Lon Chaney, there's three images that come to mind: Phantom of the Opera, Quasimoto, and this one. And I think this one, the Man in the Beaver hat probably is the most iconic of his makeups, because, 'cause it is, it's somehow it got adopted into the culture as this is what you go to when it's a creepy guy walking around. And that's the one that everyone remembers. Do you have any idea, specifically what his process was for making that look, because it, it is I think ultimately a fairly simple design. It's just really clever.

Daniel: Yes, it probably does fall into the category of his more simplistic makeups. But, again, Chaney did a lot of things simplistic-- today --were never seen back then in say, 1927. Particularly in the Phantom of the Opera's case in 1925, in which a lot of that makeup today would be done through CG, in terms of trying to eliminate the nose or to make your lips move to express dialogue.

Chaney was very fortunate to have lived in the pantomime era, where he didn't have to rely on how his voice would sound, trying to talk through those dentures, in which case the makeup would probably have to have been more tamed to allow audio recorded dialogue to properly come through.

But with regards to the beaver hat makeup, he had thin wires that fitted around his eyes to give it a more hypnotic stare. The teeth, which he had constructed by a personal dentist, eventually had a wire attached to the very top that held the corners of his mouth, opening to a nice curved, fixated, almost joker like grin.

You can imagine with the monocles around his eyes, he was thankful there probably wasn't that much wind on a closed set, because he probably couldn't have closed his eyes that many times. But a lot of these things become spoken about and detailed over time with mythic status. That he had to have his eyes operated on to achieve the constant widening of his eyelids. Or the teeth -- he could only wear the teeth for certain periods of time before accidentally biting his tongue or his lips, et cetera.

But Chaney certainly wasn't a sadist, with himself, with his makeups. He was very professional. Although he did go through undoubtedly a lot of discomfort, especially probably the most, explicit case would be for the Hunchback of Notre Dame, in which his whole body is crooked down into a stooped position.

But, with London After Midnight, I do highly suspect that the inspiration for that makeup in general came from the Dracula novel. And because MGM had not acquired the rights to the Dracula novel, unlike how Universal acquired the rights of the Hunchback or, more importantly, Phantom of the Opera, by which point Gaston Leroux was still alive.

It was just a loose adaptation of Dracula. But nevertheless, when you read the description of Dracula in Bram Stoker's novel, he does bear a similarity to Chaney's vampire, in which it's the long hair, a mouth full of sharp teeth, a ghastly pale palor and just dressed all in black and carries around a lantern.

Whereas Bela Lugosi takes extraordinary leaps and turns away from the Stoker novel. But it must have definitely had an impact at the time, enough for MGM to over-market the image of Chaney's vampire, which only appears in the film for probably just under four minutes, compared to his detective disguise, which is the real main character of the film.

Although the thing we all wanna see is Cheney moving about as the vampire and what facial expressions he pulled. It's just something that we just want to see because it's Lon Chaney.

Right. And it makes you wonder if he had lived and had gotten to play Dracula, he kind of boxed himself into a corner, then if he'd already used the look from the book, you wonder what he would've come up with, if Lugosi hadn't done it, and if Chaney had had been our first Dracula.

The other thing that I think of is here's a guy who -- take Hunchback or Phantom or even this thing -- whatever process he went through to put that makeup on, you know, was hours of work, I'm sure. Hunchback several hours of work to get to that, that he did himself, and then they'd film all day.

So, on top of, I mean, I just think that that's like, wow, when you think about today where somebody might go into a makeup chair and have two or three people working on them to get the look they want. Even if it took a few hours, that person is just sitting there getting the makeup done. He's doing all of this, and then turns in a full day, uh, in front of the cameras, which to me is like, wow, that's incredible.

Daniel: Definitely, it's like two jobs in one. I imagine for an actor it must be really grueling in adapting to a makeup, especially if it's a heavy makeup where it covers the whole of your head or crushes down your nose, changes your lips, the fumes of chemicals going into your eyes.

But then by the end of it, I imagine you are quite exhausted from just your head adapting to that. But then you have to go out and act as well. With Chaney, I suppose he could be more of a perfectionist than take as much time as he wanted within reason. And then once he came to the grueling end of it all, he's actually gotta go out and act countless takes. Probably repair a lot of the makeup as well after, after a couple of takes, certainly with things like the Hunchback or the Phantom of the Opera.

And, you know, it's not only is he doing the makeup and acting, but in, you know, not so much in London After Midnight, but in Phantom of the Opera, he is quite athletic. When the phantom moves, he really moves. He's not stooped. He's got a lot of energy to him and he's got a makeup on that, unlike the Quasimoto makeup, what he's attempting to do with the phantom is, reductive. He's trying to take things away from his face.

And he's using all the tricks he knows and lighting to make that happen, but that means he's gotta hit particular marks for the light to hit it just right. And for you to see that his face is as, you know, skull-like as he made it. When you see him, you know, in London After Midnight as the professor inspector character, he has got a normal full man's face. It's a real face. Much like his son, he had a kind of a full face and what he was able to do with a phantom and take all that away, and be as physical as he was, is just phenomenal. I mean, he was a really, besides the makeup, he was a really good actor.

Daniel: Oh, definitely.

I wonder if he was the makeup artist, but not the actor and he did exactly the same makeup on somebody else. And so we had the same image. If those things would've resonated with us the way they do today. I think it had everything to do with who he was and his abilities in addition to the incredible makeup. He was just a tremendous performer.

Daniel: Absolutely. He was a true multitasker. In his early days of theater, he was not only an actor, but he was a choreographer. He had a lot of jobs behind the scenes as well. Even when he had become a star in his own time, he would still help actors find the character within them. like Norma Sheera, et cetera. People who were kind of new to the movie making scene and the directors didn't really have that much patience with young actors or actresses.

Whereas Chaney, because of his clout in the industry, no one really interfered with Chaney's authority on set. But he would really help actors find the character, find the emotion, 'cause it was just all about how well you translate it over for the audience, as opposed to the actor feeling a certain way that convinces themselves that they're the character. Chaney always tried to get the emotions across to the audience. Patsy Ruth Miller, who played Esemerelda in in the Hunchback, said that Chaney directed the film more than the director actually did.

The director was actually even suggested by Chaney. So, Chaney really had his hands everywhere in the making of a film. And Patsy Ruth Miller said the thing that she learned from him was that it's the actress's job to make the audience feel how the character's meant to be feeling, and not necessarily the actor to feel what they should be feeling based on the script and the settings and everything.

So I think, that's why Chaney in particular stands out, among all of the actors of his time.

I think he would've transitioned really well into sound. I think, he had everything necessary to make that transition. There's one sound picture with him in it, isn't there, doesn't he? Doesn't he play a ventriloquist?

Daniel: Yes, it was a remake of The Unholy Three that he had made in 1925 as Echo the ventriloquist, and the gangster. And yes, by the time MGM had decided to pursue talkies -- also, funny enough, they were one of the last studios to transition to, just because they were the most, one, probably the most dominant studio in all of Hollywood, that they didn't feel the pressure to compete with the burgeoning talkie revolution.

So they could afford to take their time, they could release a talkie, but then they could release several silent films and the revenue would still be amazing for the studio. Whereas other studios probably had to conform really quick just because they didn't have the star system, that MGM shamelessly flaunted.

And several Chaney films had been transitioned to sound at this point with or without Chaney. But for Chaney himself, because he himself was the special effect, it was guaranteed to be a winner even if it had been an original story that isn't as remembered today strictly because people get to hear the thing that's been denied them for all this time, which is Chaney's voice.

And he would've transitioned very easily to talkies is because he had a very rich, deep voice, which, coming from theater, he had to have had, in terms of doing dialogue. He wasn't someone like a lot of younger actors who had started out predominantly in feature films who could only pantomime lines. Chaney actually knew how to deliver dialogue, so it did feel natural and it didn't feel read off the page.

And he does about five voices in The Unholy Three. So MGM was truly trying to market, his voice for everything that they could. As Mrs. O'Grady, his natural voice, he imitates a parrot and a girl. And yeah, he really would've flourished in the sound era.

Any surprises, as it sounds like you were researching this for virtually your whole life, but were there any surprises that you came across, as you really dug in about the film?

Daniel: With regards to London after Midnight, the main surprise was undoubtedly the -- probably the star chapter of the whole thing -- which is the nitrate frames from an actual destroyed print of the film itself, which sounds crazy to even being able to say it. But, yeah the nitrate frames themselves presented a quandary of questions that just sent me into a whole nother research mode trying to find out where these impossible images came from, who they belonged to, why they even existed, why they specifically existed.

Because, looking for something that, you know, you are told doesn't exist. And then to find it, you kind of think someone is watching over you, planting this stuff as though it's the ultimate tease. To find a foreign movie poster for London After Midnight would be one thing, but to find actual pieces of the lost film itself. It was certainly the most out of body experience I've ever had. Just to find something that I set out to find, but then you find it and you still can't believe that you've actually found it.

How did you find it?

Daniel: I had connections with a few foreign archives who would befriend me and took to my enthusiasm with the silent era, and specifically Chaney and all the stars connected to Chaney films.

And, quite early on I was told that there were a few photo albums that had various snippets of silent films from Chaney. They didn't really go into what titles these were, 'cause they were just all a jumble. All I knew is that they came from (garbled) widow. And he had acquired prints of the whole films from various, I suppose, junk stores in Spain.

But not being a projectionist, he just purely took them at the face value that he just taken the images and snipping them up and putting them in photo albums, like how you would just do with photographs. And then the rest of the material was sadly discarded by fire. So, all we were left with were these snipped relics, survivors almost to several Chaney lost films. Some of them not lost, but there were films like The Phantom of the Opera in there, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, Mockery, The Unknown.

But then there were several lost films such as London After Midnight, the Big City, Thunder. And All the Brothers were Valiant, which are mainly other than Thunder are all totally complete lost films.

So, to find this little treasure trove, it was just finding out what the images meant and connecting them up, trying to put them in some sort of chronological scholarly order. Grueling, but it was very fun at the same time. And because I had identified myself with all of these surviving production stills from the film -- a lot of them, which formed the basis of the 2002 reconstruction by Turner Classic Movies -- it didn't take me too long to identify what scenes these surviving nitrate frames were from.

But there were several frames which had sets that I recognized and costumes that I recognized, but in the photographic stills, they don't occupy the same space at the same time. So, it's like the two separate elements had crossed over. So that left me with a scholarly, question of what I was looking at.

I was able to go back and, sort of rectify certain wrongs that have been accepted throughout the sixties as being the original, say, opening to London after Midnight. So I've, been able to disprove a few things that have made the film, I suppose, a bit more puzzling to audiences. Some audiences didn't really get what the plot was to begin with. So, it was nice to actually put a bit more order to the madness finally.

At what point did you come across the original treatment and the script?

Daniel: The treatment and the script, they came from a private collector who had bought them at auction a number of years ago who I was able to thankfully contact, and they still had the two documents in question. I had learned through Philip J Riley's previous books on London after Midnight that he had the two latter drafts of the script, the second edition and the third draft edition.

And, again, the question of why and where. I just always wondered where that first draft of the script was, hoping it would contain new scenes, and open new questions for me and to study. And once I've managed to find those two documents, they did present a lot of new, perspectives and material that added to the fuller plot of the original hypnotist scenario, as opposed to the shortened, time efficient London After Midnight film that was ultimately delivered to audiences. So again, it helped to put a little bit more order to the madness.

You found an actual piece of the film that you were able to, somebody got images from it? And then you found the scripts? But the images are terrific and they're all in your book. They came from what exactly?

Daniel: The just below 20 images of the film came from originally a distribution print, a Spanish distribution print, from about 1928. Originally, they were on 35 millimeter indicating that they were from the studio and as is with a lot of silent films that have been found in foreign archives.

Normally when a film is done with its distribution, it would have to be returned to the original studio to be destroyed, except for the original negative and a studio print, because there is no reason why a studio would need to keep the thousands of prints when they have the pristine copy in their vault.

 But, in a lot of smaller theater cases, in order to save money on the postage of the shipping, they would just basically declare that they had destroyed the film on the studio's behalf. There was no record system with this stuff and that's how a lot of these films ended up in the basements of old theaters, which are eventually when they closed, the assets were sold off to collectors or traveling showmen. And eventually these films found their ways into archives or again, private collections. Some of which people know what they have.

A lot of times they don't know what they have because they're more obsessed with, naturally, more dedicated to preserving the films of their own culture that was shown at the time, as opposed to a foreign American title, which they probably assume they already have a copy of. But it's how a lot of these films get found.

And, with the London After Midnight, example, there were the images that I found spanned the entire seven reels, because they came from different points in the film. It wasn't a single strip of film, of a particular scene. Having thankfully the main source that we have for London After Midnight is the cutting continuity, which is the actual film edited down shot for shot, length for length.

And it describes, briefly, although descriptive enough, what is actually in each and every single shot of the film. And comparing the single frame images from the film with this document, I was able to identify at what point these frames came from during the film, which again spanned the entire seven reels, indicating that a complete seven reel version of the film had gotten out under the studio system at one point.

As is the case, I'm assuming, 'cause these came from the same collection, I'm assuming it was the same with the other lost Chaney films that again, sadly only survive in snippet form.

It's like somebody was a collector and his wife said, "well, we don't have room for all this. Just take the frames you like and we'll get rid of the rest of it."

So, you mentioned in passing the 2002 reconstruction that Turner Classic Movies did using the existing stills. I don't know if they were working from any of the scripts or not. That was the version I originally saw when I was working on writing, those portions of The Misers Dream that mentioned London After Midnight.

Based on what you know now, how close is that reconstruction and where do you think they got it right and where'd they get it wrong?

Daniel: The 2002, reconstruction, while a very commendable production, it does stray from the original edited film script. Again, the problem that they clearly faced on that production is that there were not enough photographed scenes to convey all the photographed scenes from the film. So what they eventually fell into the trap of doing was having to reuse the same photograph to sometimes convey two separate scenes, sometimes flipping the image to appear on the opposite side of the camera. And, because of the certain lack of stills in certain scenes cases, they had to rewrite them.

And sometimes a visual scene had to have been replaced with an inter-title card, merely describing what had happened or describing a certain period in time, as opposed to showing a photograph of what we're meant to be seeing as opposed to just reading. So, they did the best with what they had.

But since then, there have been several more images crop up in private collections or in the archives. So, unless a version of the film gets found, it's certainly an endeavor that could be revisited, I think, and either do a new visual reconstruction of sort, or attempt some sort remake of the film even.

They certainly have the materials to do that. I've got an odd question. There's one famous image, a still image from the film, showing Chaney as Professor Burke, and he is reaching out to the man in the beaver hat whose back is to us. Is that a promo photo? Spoiler alert, Burke is playing the vampire in the movie. He admits that that's him. So, he never would've met the character. What is the story behind that photo?

Daniel: There are actually three photographs depicting that, those characters that you described. There are the two photographs which show Chaney in the Balfor mansion seemingly directing a cloaked, top hatted figure with long hair, with its back towards us. And then there is another photograph of Chaney in the man in the beaver hat disguise with a seemingly twin right beside him outside of a door.

Basically the scenes in the film in which Chaney appear to the Hamlin residents, the people who are being preyed upon by the alleged vampires, the scenes where Chaney and the vampire need to coexist in the same space or either appear to be in the same vicinity to affect other characters while at the same time interrogating others, Chaney's character of Burke employs a series of assistants to either dress up as vampires or at certain times dress up as his version of the vampire to parade around and pretend that they are the man in the beaver hat. Those particular shots, though, the vampire was always, photographed from behind rather than the front.

The very famous scene, which was the scene that got first got me interested in London After Midnight, in which the maidm played by Polly Moran is in the chair shrieking at Chaney's winged self, hovering over her. It was unfortunate to me to realize that that was actually a flashback scene told from the maid's perspective.

And by the end of the film, the maid is revealed to be an informant of Burke, a secret detective also. So, it's really a strong suspension of disbelief has to be employed because the whole scene of Chaney chasing the maid through the house and appearing under the door, that was clearly just the MGMs marketing at work just to show Chaney off in a bizarre makeup with a fantastic costume.

Whereas he is predominantly the detective and the scenes where he's not needed to hypnotize a character in the full vampire makeup, he just employs an assistant who parades around in the house as him, all the times with his back turned so that the audience can't latch on as to who the character actually is, 'cause it must have posed quite a fun confusion that how can Chaney be a detective in this room where the maid has just ran from the Vampire, which is also Chaney?

Yeah, and it doesn't help that the plot is fairly convoluted anyway, and then you add that layer. So, do you think we'll ever see a copy of it? Do you think it's in a basement somewhere?

Daniel: I've always personally believed that the film does exist. Not personally out of just an unfounded fanboy wish, but just based on the evidence and examples of other films that have been found throughout time. Metropolis being probably the most prominent case.

But, at one point there was nothing on London After Midnight and now there is just short of 20 frames for the film. So, if that can exist currently now in the year 2023, what makes us think that more footage can't be found by, say, 2030? I think with fans, there's such a high expectation that if it's not found in their own lifetime or in their own convenience space of time, it must not exist.

There's still a lot of silent lost treasures that just have not been found at all that do exist though. So, with London After Midnight, from a purely realistic standpoint, I've always theorized myself that the film probably does exist in an archive somewhere, but it would probably be a very abridged, foreign condensed version, as opposed to a pristine 35-millimeter print that someone had ripped to safety stock because they knew in the future the film would become the most coveted of all lost films.

So, I do believe it does exist. The whole theory of it existing in a private collection and someone's waiting to claim the newfound copyright on it, I think after December of last year, I think it's finally put that theory to rest. I don't think a collector consciously knows they have a copy of it. So, I think it's lost until found personally, but probably within an archive.

Lost until found. That's a great title for a book. I like that a lot. What do you think of the remake, Mark of the Vampire and in your opinion, what does it tell us about, London After Midnight?

Daniel: Well, Mark of the Vampire came about again, part of the Sound Revolution. It was one of those because it was Chaney and Todd Browning's most successful film for the studio. And Browning was currently, being held on a tight leash by MGM because of his shocking disaster film Freaks, I suppose they were a little bit nervous about giving him the reign to do what he wanted again.

So, looking through their backlog of smash silent hits, London After Midnight seemed the most logical choice to remake, just simply because it was their most, successful collaboration. Had it have been The Unholy Three, I'm sure? Oh no, we already had The Unholy Three, but had it have been another Browning Chaney collaboration, it might have been The Unknown, otherwise. So, I suppose that's why London After Midnight was selected and eventually turned into Mark of the Vampire.

The story does not stray too much from London After Midnight, although they seem to complicate it a little bit more by taking the Burke vampire character and turning it this time into three characters played by three different actors, all of which happened to be in cahoots with one another in trying to solve an old murder mystery.

It's very atmospherical. You can definitely tell it's got Todd Browning signature on it. It's more pondering with this one why they just did not opt to make a legit, supernatural film, rather than go in the pseudo vampire arena that they pursued in 1927. Where audiences had by now become accustomed to the supernatural with Dracula and Frankenstein in 1931, which no longer relied on a detective trying to find out a certain mystery and has to disguise themselves as a monster.

The monster was actually now a real thing in the movies. So I think if Bela Lugosi had been given the chance to have played a real Count Mora as a real vampire, I think it would've been slightly better received as opposed to a dated approach that was clearly now not the fashionable thing to do.

I suppose again, because Browning was treading a very thin line with MGM, I suppose he couldn't really stray too far from the original source material. But I find it a very atmospherical film, although I think the story works better as a silent film than it does as a sound film, because there's a lot of silent scenes in that film, away from owls, hooting and armadillos scurrying about and winds.

But I do think, based on things like The Cat and The Canary from 1927 and The Last Warning, I just think that detective sleuth with horror overtones serves better to the silent world than it does the sound world away from the legit, supernatural.

So, if Chaney hadn't died, do you think he would have played Dracula? Do you think he would've been in Freaks? Would Freaks have been more normalized because it had a big name in it like that?

Daniel: It would've been interesting if Chaney had played in Freaks. I think because Todd Browning used the kinds of individuals that he used for Freaks, maybe Chaney would've, for a change, had been the most outta place.

I do think he might have played Dracula. I think Universal would've had a hell of a time trying to get him over because he had just signed a new contract with MGM, whereas Todd Browning had transferred over to Universal by 1930 and really wanted to make Dracula for many years and probably discussed it with Chaney as far back as 1920.

But certainly MGM would not have permitted Chaney to have gone over to Universal, even for a temporary period, without probably demanding a large piece of the action, in a financial sense, because Universal had acquired the rights to Dracula at this point. And, based on the stage play that had, come out on Broadway, it was probably assured that it was going to be a giant moneymaker, based on the success of the Dracula play.

But because of Chaney's, status as a, I suppose retrospectively now, as a horror actor, he was probably the first person to be considered for that role by Carl Laemmle, senior and Junior for that matter. And Chaney gone by 1930, it did pose a puzzle as to who could take over these kinds of roles.

Chaney was probably the only one to really successfully do it and make the monster an actual box office ingredient more than any other actor at that time, as he did with. Phantom, Blind Bargain and London After Midnight. So, I think to have pursued Chaney for a legit, supernatural film would've had enormous possibilities for Browning and Chaney himself.

You can kind of see a trend, a trilogy forming, with Browning, from London After Midnight, in which he incorporates things he used in Dracula in London After Midnight. So, he kind of had this imagery quite early on. So, to go from – despite it's not in that order -- but to have London After Midnight, Mark of the Vampire, and he also did Dracula, he clearly was obsessed with the story.

And I think Chaney was probably the, best actor for someone like Browning who complimented his way of thinking and approach to things like silence. As opposed to needing dialogue all the time, loud commotions. So, I think they dovetailed each other quite well, and that's why their ten year director actor relationship was as groundbreaking as it was.

If the film does surface, if we find the film, what do you think people, how are they gonna react to the movie when they see it? What do you think? What's gonna be the reaction if it does surface?

Daniel: Well, the lure of London After Midnight, the power in the film is its lost status rather than its widespread availability. I think it could never live up to the expectation that we've built up in our heads over the past 40 to 60 years. It was truly people, fans like Forrest J Ackerman that introduced and reignited the interest in Chaney's career by the late fifties and 1960s. That's when London After Midnight started to make the rounds in rumor, the rumors of a potential print existing, despite the film had not long been destroyed at that point. So, it was always a big mystery. There were always people who wanted to see the film, but with no access to home video, or et cetera, the only way you could probably see the film would've been at the studio who held everything.

And, by the time the TV was coming out, a lot of silent films didn't make it to TV. So again, it has just germinated in people's heads probably in a better form than what they actually remembered. But, the true reality of London After Midnight is one more closer to the ground than it is in it's people are probably expecting to see something very supernatural on par with Dracula, whereas it's more so a Sherlock Holmes story with mild horrorish overtones to it that you can kind of see better examples of later on in Dracula in 1930 and in Mark of the Vampire.

It's a film purely, I think for Lon Chaney fans. For myself, having read everything I can on the film, everything I've seen on the film, I personally love silent, detective stories, all with a touch of horror. So, I personally would know what I am going in to see. I'm not going in to see Chaney battling a Van Helsing like figure and turn to dust at the very end or turning to a bat. I'm going to see a detective melodrama that happens to have what looks like a vampire.

So, it certainly couldn't live up to the expectations in people's minds and it's probably the only film to have had the greatest cheapest, marketing in history, I would think. It's one of those films, if it was discovered, you really would not have to do much marketing to promote it.

It's one of those that in every fanzine, magazine, documentary referenced in pop. It has really marketed itself into becoming what I always call the mascot of the genre. There are other more important lost films that have been lost to us. The main one again, which has been found in its more complete form, was Metropolis, which is a better movie.

But unlike Metropolis, London After Midnight has a lot more famous ingredients to it. It has a very famous director. It has a very famous actor whose process was legendary even during then. And it's actually the only film in which he actually has his make-up case make a cameo appearance by the very end.

And it goes on the thing that everyone in every culture loves, which is the vampirism, the dark tales and folklore. So, when you say it, it just gets your imagination going. Whereas I think if you are watching it, it's probably you'll be looking over the projector to see if something even better is going to happen.

The film had its mixed reactions when it originally came out. People liked it because it gave them that cheap thrill of being a very atmospherical, haunted house with the creepy figures of Chaney walking across those dusty hallways. But then the more important story is a murder mystery.

It's not Dracula, but it has its own things going for it. I always kind of harken it back to the search for the Lochness Monster or Bigfoot. It has more power in your mind than it does in an aquarium or in a zoo. Hearing someone say that they think they saw something moving around in Lochness, but there's no photographic evidence, you just have the oral story, that is much more tangible in a way than actually seeing it in an aquarium where you can take it for granted.

And it's the same with London After Midnight, and I think that's why a lot of hoaxster and pranksters tend to say that they have seen London After Midnight more than any other lost film.

For a film that I would say the majority of the world does not have any frame of reference, that image is iconic in a way that has been, I mean, it at first glance could be Jack the Ripper. Once I locked in on that image, then I started to think, oh, the ghosts in Disney's Haunted Mansion, there's a couple of ghosts that have elements of that. I mean, it was so perfectly done, even though we don't, I bet you nine out ten people don't know the title London After Midnight, but I bet you seven outta ten people know this image.

Daniel: Definitely, it has certainly made its mark on pop culture, again, I think because I think it's such a beautiful, simplistic design. Everything from the simplistically [garbled] to the bulging eyes and the very nice top hat as well, which is in itself today considered a very odd accessory for a grotesque, vampire character.

But it's one of those things that has really carried over. It's influenced what the movies and artists. It was one of the influences for the Babadook creation for that particular monster. It was an influence on the Black Phone. It's just a perfect frame of reference for movie makers and sculptors and artists to keep taking from.

Yep. It's, it'll live long beyond us. Daniel, one last question. I read somewhere or heard somewhere. You're next gonna tackle James Whale, is that correct?

Daniel: James Whale is a subject, again, coming from, I happen to come from the exact same town that he was born and raised in, in Dudley, England. So, it's always been a subject close to home for me, which is quite convenient because I love his movies. So, I'm hoping to eventually, hopefully plan a documentary feature on him, based on a lot of family material in the surrounding areas that I was able to hunt down, and forgotten histories about him and just put it together in some form, hopefully in the future.

Daniel: James Whale is the most known for his work for directing Frankenstein with Boris Karloff in 1931. But he also directed probably some of the most important horror films that have ever existed in the history of motion pictures. The Old Dark House, which can be cited with its very atmospherical, and black comedy tones, The Invisible Man with Claude Rains and Gloria Stewart in 1933. And, the most important one, which is probably the grand jewel in the whole of the Universal Monsters Empire, which is Bride of Frankenstein in 1935, which is the ultimate, example of everything that he had studied, everything that he'd learned with regards to cinema and comedy, life and death, and just making a very delicious cocktail of a movie in all of its black comedy, horrific, forms that we're still asking questions about today.

One of his first films that he did was for Howard Hughes Hell's Angels, in which -- because he'd coming over from theater -- when again, films in America were taken off with the sound revolution. They all of a sudden needed British directors to translate English dialogue better than the actors could convey.

So, James Whale was one of many to be taken over to America when he had a hit play called Journeys End, which became the most successful war play at that point. And he did his own film adaptation of Journeys End. He also did a really remarkable film called Showboat, which is another very iconic film.

And again, someone with James Whale's horror credentials, you just think, how could someone who directed Frankenstein directed Showboat? But, clearly a very, very talented director who clearly could not be pigeonholed at the time as  a strictly horror director, despite it is the horror films in which he is remembered for, understandably so, just because they contain his very individualistic wit and humor and his outlooks on life and politics. And being an openly gay director at the time, he really was a force unto himself. He was a very modern man even then.

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  • 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! 

Peet Gelderblom on "When Forever Dies"

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!

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! 

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

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!

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!