Dear Dick Hollywood, Are there any techniques or medical prescriptions available for procrastination, like a patch or something? With a wife, a kid on the way and my day job, I can only find time to make excuses as to why I can’t finish my script. Help. -Looking for a Fix
Dear Fixster, There are several well respected twelve-step programs for procrastinators across the country. The most popular organization being Procrastinators Anonymous, run by the world’s most famous procrastinator, film director Stanley Kubrick. Kubrick, who’s been known to procrastinate between films as long as a decade, has been often overheard saying: “There’s no rush to join our organization. Put it off for a while. Leave it simmering on the back burner for a few years as something you might possibly do one day in the future. In fact, even our own members aren’t sure they want to be part of the group. Hell, I’m president and I’m still trying to decide if I should actually do something or hold some kind of informal brunch, but I just keep putting it off.” However, if you’re embarrassed about joining one of these programs, let your favorite uncle Dick offer some sound advice: Dangle ‘carrots’ for yourself by setting up a system of simple goals and rewards. For example, tell yourself if you write five pages today, you can go see a movie or buy that CD ROM player you’ve had your eye on for the last three weeks. Be sure to make your goals specific – that you’ll do ‘X’ number of pages a day or you’ll work ‘X’ number of hours a day. Also make sure the rewards are things you actually want (for example, stuffing a miniature replica of the Empire State Building in your shorts would be a poor reward). Another surefire way to kick the ‘procrastination blues’ is to get up an extra hour or two before you go to work every morning. The wee small hours are generally a time when there are little or no distractions for you. The phone doesn’t ring, nobody else in the house is up, no one comes to visit, it’s way too early to mastur—, well, maybe not that... Thus, you will have no other alternative but to sit in front of your computer and write, damn it, write!
Using one or both of these suggestions will go a long way in curing your affliction. Just remember, that as a procrastinator, you’re in excellent company - world famous dead author Truman Capote once said, “I love being a writer, but the one pain in the ass is that, eventually, I have to actually write something.”
Dear Dick Hollywood, Is there a better time of year to sell a spec script? I’ve been trying to get an agent (and a sale) for over a year now and it seems they’re always too busy to even read my material, or they tell me it’s not something they’d be interested in “right now” and/or that I should “check back with them” in a few months. What the hell does this mean and when is it ever the right time? -Frustrated
Dear Frustrated, Most Hollywood people say there is no specific ‘better’ time to sell a spec. Well, I say, “Screw most Hollywood people!” There are two periods ripe for selling - the first between mid-January and mid-March, right after the Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year’s two-month, marathon vacation. Be advised that from mid-November to early January virtually everyone in the biz is on one long, frenzied binge so it wouldn’t be the best time to do a massive script mailing. Got that, genius? But starting in mid-January, executives have finally shaken off their collective hangovers and are ready to go back to ‘work.’ Also, keep in mind that the majority of Hollywood players send their brains on vacation a week or so before they physically leave town and then don’t get their wits back for a week or so after they return. So plan your all-out spec attack accordingly. The second season for sales is between mid-September and early November – just after the summer, three-month, marathon vacation (but before the aforementioned Thanksgiving/ Christmas/New Year’s two-month, marathon vacation). Again, the whole brain thing holds true. That gives you an entire, six month window of opportunity. As far as agents telling you, “they’re too busy” or “it’s not something they’d be interested in at this time,” get one thing straight - most agents will tell you anything to get you off their back. Here’s the bottom line, Einstein - agents need good scripts! If your script is good, they’ll represent it. If it sucks, they’ll say things like, “We’re too busy right now,” or “We’re not taking on any new clients at this time.” So take it from me. Shut up and start writing the next spec.
Dear Dick Hollywood,
Some writer friends of mine want to get together and form a writer’s group, but I’m not so sure I can trust them. Is this whole thing a good idea? -Paranoid in Philly
Dear Paranoid, If these writer friends of yours happen to be women tell them to forget you and send them straight to Dick Hollywood’s professional writing group. Okay, jack-ass, here’s the real skinny: I strongly suggest being involved in a writing group. It can be a valuable experience for several reasons. Number one, just being around other writers is important. It puts you in contact with people who have common goals and interests. So, right away there’s a possibility you’ll get laid. Also, being around other writers will stimulate creativity. It’s much more productive to bounce your ideas off other people; it can sometimes take your story in directions you’d never imagine if left to your own devices. Listen, the longer you sit alone looking at your script about the Indian chief who teams up with a giant potato to solve a murder, the more it will look like a masterpiece to you. After a while, you simply lose objectivity about your own writing. You need other people to give you perspective and clarity. This making any sense to you, needle-dick? Another benefit of being in a writer’s group is that it will help you learn to take criticism. This is a key attribute for any screenwriter to possess. Professional screenwriters, more than any other artist, are forced to compromise their creative vision. Like it or not, fair or unfair, fucked or not fucked, practically everyone in a screenwriter’s world gets to comment on a script. From your agent, to a director, to the star, to the producer’s manicurist, to the studio executive’s assistant’s ex-roommate’s half-brother will get to have an opinion. Furthermore, you will be expected to take each comment, no matter how moronic, as a serious and important suggestion, So, what better way to learn how to absorb the artistic blows of criticism than from a group of your pals? What you should learn is to take all the comments and ideas on your scripts without being combative or angry or belligerent or suicidal. Always keep an open mind - your story can always be improved, your approach to a narrative, scene or character may not always be the most inventive or unique way to do things. The faster you learn to compromise, the quicker you’ll be a working writer. As far as trusting your friends with your ideas, of course everything in life is a gamble, but I bet they wouldn’t want you to steal their concepts any more than you’d want them to steal yours (unless it’s that giant potato idea - let them steal it). If everyone ran around being scared their ideas will be stolen, there would be no movies. Every writer is taking the same chance being in a writing group. And if someone does happen to steal an idea, you have my permission to take the prick out back and beat the living shit out of ‘em. –D.H.
Dear Dick Hollywood, Help!I’m a writer, not a salesman. I feel comfortable behind my keyboard, but the idea of a pitch meeting terrifies me. Any ideas on how to conquer my phobia? -Shy and Stupid
Dear Stupid, About once a century I come across a question that’s not thoroughly idiotic, and in my celebration, I like to throw a party and do a semi-silly dance on top of the table in my breakfast nook. Unfortunately for you, there will be no party hats, no tap shoes and the only thing on top of the table in my breakfast nook will be my tender young writing assistant. Now, let the Dickster set your ass straight... Pitching is now a big part of being a screenwriter and guess what, scumwad? It’s actually a good thing, especially for new writers. Writing a spec script can take between three and six months to write. That’s a long time to go without a paycheck. You could starve. You could get evicted. You could lose your subscription to Penthouse! However, coming up with a story in pitch form, could take as little as two weeks. All you need to figure out is a strong commercial concept, coherent plot points and interesting characters and BING, you have a pitch. You’re ready to make some money. Be aware that today’s marketplace is extremely pitch-friendly. As a matter of fact, many top agents and managers feel that right now it’s easier to sell a pitch than a script. Why? I’ll tell you fucking why. Everything goes in cycles and now it’s the pitch’s turn. Also, most studio executives are retards and have no capacity to read and fully comprehend a full script. Another reason why pitching is a good idea for new writers is the exposure. It gives you a chance to meet many development executives, producers and studio personnel. This presents you with the wonderful opportunity to forge relationships with these wretched people. Remember, Hollywood is all about relationships; it’s who you know. So, force yourself to love these guys. If your pitch doesn’t sell, at the very least you’ve met with people who can give you work in the future. This means when you go in for a pitch meeting, you have to be engaging, funny, a good storyteller and it doesn’t hurt to give a good blow job. Bottom line: You have to make these schmucks like you and make it so they want to kill each other in order to get a hold of your story. So, when you say you’re a writer, not a salesman, not only are you shamelessly ripping off Dr. McCoy, but you’re basically a brain-damaged monkey boy. Alright? Alright. Now, I’m going back to the breakfast nook for some joyous copulation. –D.H.
Dear Dick Hollywood, Being new to the whole “moviemaking process,” I was wondering; after you write your script, how do you get paid and how much? You’re new to the whole moviemaking process? Gee, I couldn’t tell. Are you also new to the whole “using your brain to think” process? And are you new to the whole “I don’t have a decent, intelligent, logical question to ask the Greatest Dick in the world, so I’ll jot down any old asinine thing I can think of” process? Okay, here’s the answer to your question. You get paid in cotton balls and a strawberry. No, that was just a joke. The way you really get paid is with plastic forks and gum wrappers. Now, are you getting the point of how fucking stupid you are? Okay, shithead, I’ll answer the question, but I’m not happy about it. Here’s how Hollywood works, the quickie Dick version: You write a script and everyone laughs and makes fun of you because everyone in Hollywood writes scripts. If your script is halfway good you’ll get an agent. They will send it out to producers; usually, one producer at each studio. Now, if your agent is a retard, he’ll give your script to an Iranian flute player and the only thing that guy will do with your script is send it back to his family in Iran who’ll try to turn the script pages into a house. Anyway, hopefully producers will be getting your script, and will then take your script to their respective studios. At this point, executives will read your script and will most likely laugh and make fun of you. However, there is an outside chance they’ll like your script and they will start to put bids in to your agent for it. That’s right, you little turd, money bids. You have heard of money? Now, what you want to do at this point is kill yourself – because this is the best your life is ever going to get. Trust me. Of course there is the small, slight, pretty much impossible chance that more than one studio will put bids in for your script and this is how a bidding war is born – meaning that they are willing to try to beat one another at paying top dollar for your seriously flawed and frankly sophomoric screenplay. This, my brain-damaged friend, is the position you want to get yourself in – if you have two or more studios willing to engage in such a war, your price will go up and up and up! If this were to happen, the possible price could be as high as $2 million. However, if only one studio is willing to bid, then they can pay whatever they want, but they’d have to pay at least Writers Guild minimum, which at this point is around $64,000. And let’s face it, for someone like you – whose mother always thought you were going to end up dead in some public library restroom – this is a lot of dough. So the real answer to your question, Captain Stupidass, is that you get paid in cash and you’ll get somewhere between $64,000 and $2 million. But let’s be honest. You couldn’t even ask a decent question, so do you really think you’ll be able to write something that a major studio will want to buy?
Dear Dick Hollywood, What the hell is up with readers? I recently got a copy of coverage from a reader and it blew my mind. I was informed by an inside source that the reader is some twenty-two-year-old frustrated screenwriter. I know coverage is important, but it seems like every one of my drug-addled, brain-dead friends lands a job as a reader for fifty bucks a pop. Where’s the logic? And how can I avoid it? There’s a very simple answer to that. Get in your car. Drive down the busiest street in your town. Drive as fast as you can, and crash head-on into the biggest 18-wheeler you can find. You may not die, but you’ll be burned and maimed so badly you won’t ever be able to use your hands again, much less write. See? A simple way to avoid drug-addled, brain-dead readers. The fact is, unless you get hooked up with a very well-connected agent, or you make the right contacts with studio executives and the heads of production companies, you will never be able to avoid readers. So I guess you’re really fucking screwed! No, I’m only kidding. Actually, I’m not – you’re totally fucked. The hard, cold fact is that executives and producers have so many shitty screenplays and book manuscripts to read a week that there is simply no time for them to get to everything. So readers are their first line of defense. And, in all fairness, it doesn’t much matter if the readers read the material or the executives and producers do – since they’re not 22, they’re in their late 30s, 40s and 50s. Guess what? Fucking screwed again. So this is what you do: accept it. Accept that your scripts suck, take some responsibility and embrace the goddamn readers. And Dick has some easy steps to help you ingratiate yourself. First, write a short script – don’t go over 109 pages. Readers have the attention span of newborn gnats, so the short scripts go on top of the pile. Bear in mind that readers will sometimes have ten scripts to go through in a weekend. And believe me, scrotum nose, you don’t want to be script number ten. Another thing: No dense pages!!! (For idiots, this means lots of white space on each page.) Keep the dialogue concise, no long speeches. Try not to go over four lines per character. Keep the dialogue sharp and witty – watch funny movies, listen to how funny people talk. Make sure that every scene moves the plot forward, and that every scene sets up the scene that comes after it. And, most importantly, no long descriptive passages – if you must have them, break them up. The bottom line is this: readers – and executives and producers – hate to see a lot of words on the page! Why? They’re all brain-dead! So follow these rules, and the readers will love you again. Then get down on your knees and thank God you have such a Great Big Dick in your...life.
Dear Dick Hollywood, What is the secret formula for a kick-ass, sure-to-sell, unbelievably hot screenplay? God bless you! Finally, a half-decent question, something to really get Dick’s creative juices flowing. The first thing you do is approach the woman from behind, while she’s still standing. Move right in on the back of her neck and start kissing. Blow a little bit. Then nibble. Little bites. Slowly make your way to her ear – kiss, blow, nibble, bite. Suck on her earlobe for a while. Then dive right for her...what? Unbelievably hot screenplay? Oh...sorry. I was looking under “Unbelievably Hot Foreplay.” Christ. Whoa. In that case, your question is as inane as everyone else’s. Just another moronic mongoloid wasting Dick’s precious time. Okay, pushpin penis, I’ll give you the secret formula: Start with a great character, one we’ve never seen before in any movie. A complex character who has a good heart – but also one great flaw. A character the audience would be willing to spend eight or nine bucks watching for two hours. This character better have witty lines, interesting insights and clever ways of getting out of any jam. For example: your guy used to be a Navy SEAL and is now a well-liked high-school history teacher who likes to explore shipwrecks in his spare time. But his one flaw is that he enjoys fondling young boys under the bleachers at nationally televised sporting events. We’ll say Formula One races. Now, do you see how brilliant I am? Look at all the plot and emotional possibilities we have with this character! Next you need to think of a unique premise, or situation – a situation that can sustain a two-hour story. A situation that hasn’t been seen a trillion times before in movies. (But, if you’re going to lift one, lift it all. Remember: the good ones borrow, the great ones steal!) Whatever the situation is, it should be on a grand, larger-than-life scale. We could take our high-school homophile and put him in a situation where he has to find the lost treasure of a famous shipwreck, but a huge typhoon is about to hit the area. Plus, the Grand Prix is in three days and he has his eyes on his best friend’s nubile young son. Whoa! Once again I’ve chosen something dramatic, with built-in conflict – and conflict is central to any great screenplay. I’m sure you know all about conflict, like the time your girlfriend caught you whacking off to the latest Victoria’s Secret catalog and tried to castrate you with a grapefruit spoon. Anyway, now you have to create a solid outline for your character and premise. An outline should consist of roughly seventy scenes; each scene should move the plot ahead and put your guy in greater and greater danger. I know it’s tough for a trade-school graduate like you, but try not to muck up your script with a lot of witless banter between secondary characters nobody gives a good goddamn about. Focus on moving the story forward and complicating the main plot! Focus on the character goals! Focus on the barely-covered breasts of the waitress at the airport lounge! Because you’re an idiot, think of it in very simple terms: Your lead guy wants something badly, and the scenes in your outline will do everything to keep him from getting it. For example, the treasure-hunting history teacher is up against many obstacles: he must find the gold before the typhoon hits, before the Grand Prix starts, and before the high school principal figures out he’s not home with a bruised testicle. Then, a rival treasure hunter could show up – and he’s not only a fellow Navy SEAL but also our lead guy’s brother. And he’s jealous, because he’s a homophile too and our teacher guy gets to fondle all the cutest boys. Complicated, huh? Are you getting the idea, fuckwit? Throw it all together and...voilà! The perfect recipe for a kick-ass, sure-to-sell screenplay. Now piss off and write so I can get back to the foreplay. First, stick your index finger in a tub of warm Crisco. Then...
Dear Dick Hollywood, I’m a guy who’s already made it in the business, and I’m thinking about dating a woman who’s also in the business. Is this a dangerous road to go down? Absolutely!!! Are you nuts? This broad could steal one of your projects, swipe an idea and pitch it to your boss, listen in on one of your important phone calls, copy top-secret documents, snake one of your clients, find out how much you make or what your quote is, discover the Britney Spears issue of Rolling Stone with the pages stuck together that you buried in your sock drawer, stumble across the list you made of all the famous bimbos you wish would do naked jumping jacks in front of you...Jesus! Are you really that stupid? Just forget it, Chip. So, did you buy into all that? You want to know if it’s a dangerous road? Let me fill you in on something. For real, now. Unless you or the chick you’re thinking of plowing has crabs, what could possibly be dangerous here? Like every other male in this town – except actors, of course – you’re probably some sawed-off twit who never grabbed ass in high school, or college, or grad school. So let’s face it, Chet: if you have even the slightest glimmer of a possibility of a chance of getting some nasty now, jump at it! And frankly, who gives a rusty fuck if she’s in the business or out of the business, a high-powered executive or a waitress, married or single, Catholic or Jewish – if you’re a male and you can get laid, get freaking laid!!! What, you think she’ll ruin your precious little rep? Mark my words, Chaz: you don’t have a rep to ruin and chances are your ass will be out of the business in a year or two anyway. You’re just that pathetic. So get paid, get laid, and get off my Dick.
Dear Dick Hollywood, The high point of my life occurred recently when I sold my first spec script. Then, when I received studio notes for my rewrite, it became the low point. The notes ruin my entire story! Should I do what they ask, or return their money and get my script back? First off, the fact that a no-talent jackoff like yourself even sold a script should be enough for you to hunker down on your scabby knees and thank the Lord above for the miracle He granted your sorry ass. Next, allow me to laugh my nuts off at the idea of you actually giving back a studio’smoney. Hardy-har-har-freaking-har!!! If it’s your goal to look like the biggest brain-dead retard in the history of Hollywood - a town full of brain-dead retards - then be my guest and give back the money. If not, then sit down and hang on Sir Dick’s every word. Now, chances are your little opus isn’t exactly great: you may have an interesting premise, but I bet your structure sucks, your dialogue is trite, and your characters are stick figures. Face it, you’re no Billy goddamn Goldman. So if the studio notes do in fact “ruin your entire story,” it’s probably not such a bad thing. Just keep reminding yourself that you’re a limpdick novice, you don’t know everything there is to know about screenwriting, and you’re still this close to moving back into the barn on Uncle Ike’s yam farm in Idaho. Give studio people a little credit (and I do mean a very little, quite miniscule, teeny weeny molecule of credit) for having done this a while and knowing better than you what’s commercial, what projects studio heads will greenlight, and what Uncle Ike in Idaho wants to pay his seven bucks to see. Now I’ll tell you one of Dick Hollywood’s super-secret, top-clearance, tell-anyone-and-I-kick-you-in-the-teeth Tricks of the Trade: Never, ever flash your kielbasa in West Hollywood. Oops, wrong file. Here it is: Never, ever take a creative executive’s notes literally. That’s right. Slick Dickie is telling you to half-ignore the notes. I said half-ignore. These execs are not writers, so many of the “solutions” they suggest - like turning your mob hitman Bruno Cornadelli into a gay pole-vaulting pro - may not be the right ones. But they also may have identified problem areas in your more-than-likely miserable script. Look at the places they earmarked as problematic and come up with your own solutions (like turning Mr. Cornadelli into a militant black summer camp instructor. See? Better already!) The point is that the studio will respect you more for coming up with other solutions - that’s what they’re paying your dumb ass for. But pick and choose your battles. You must allow a concession here and there, just to make the exec think he’s being creative. Fight the changes you think will do serious damage to the original intent of your story. Also, many creative execs are overworked, so they often forget the ideas they present to you in meetings. (Remember, they’re giving notes to hundreds of lucky fucks like you every day.) They’ll hardly notice if you don’t use a few of their notes. Every writer, Billy goddamn Goldman included, gets notes. Even the Dickmaster General gets notes - and I don’t write. I only get notes. Notes from studios, notes from call girls, notes from dogfarts like you. So be glad you sold your spec, and be thankful for the endless patience of this Ol’ Dick.
Dear Dick Hollywood, About a year ago I finally got an agent. Since sending out my last script and getting me a few meetings, he’s done nothing for me. I’ve had it and I want to fire him, but how should I go about doing it? Why are you bothering me? Can’t you see that one of my supple writing interns is just breaking out the cigars? Sure, they’re only Swisher Sweets, but...okay, I’ll answer the goddamn question. One thing a young schmuck has to learn is that your agent ain’t gonna get you work - your landlord is. Yup - get your landlord to call Mel Gibson and ask if he’ll read that poignant tearjerker about the one-legged belly dancer who falls for the high school cafeteria server. Okay, maybe your landlord won’t get you a gig either, but he sure as hell won’t treat you like your crappy agent does. The fact is, unless you have another crappy agent lined up, don’t you dare leave the crappy agent you have now. At least you can tell chicks at parties that you have an agent, which is what really matters. Otherwise, you’re no better than the millions of shallow-plated shitstains out there who would throttle their grandmother’s dachshund just to get a crappy agent. It’s always better to have someone than no one, especially if you are no one. So, whenever you can, drop his name. Make damn sure people know you’re represented. Strip bare-ass naked and goosestep up and down La Brea with a loudspeaker strapped over your naughty bits. This is bound to get somebody interested. If it’s the LAPD, hey, a little press can’t hurt. Maybe some ratbag producer will say, “Hey, that asslick is your agent? I’ll have him send me one of your scripts.” See, even if the asslick won’t return your calls, he’ll most likely send out your script if there’s a possible sale to be made. Agents are in it for the 10% after all. Just having one, even if he can’t remember your name, will open many more doors than you’d be able to open yourself. Another plus is that your agent will make script copies. Most poor pissants like you can’t afford five clams a copy; most agents, however crappy, can. Hell, I’d sneak into my agent’s office just to make free copies of my buttcheeks, but that’s me. The bottom line is this: any agent won’t really start working until you have some heat around you. How do you create this heat? Put down the Ben-Gay and start writing. Repeat: Write. Now. Right now! Write now! Write something original, witty, intelligent, compelling. And in English. Or come up with a great idea to pitch and bug the hell out of anyone who’ll listen - those people your crappy agent got to listen to you in the first place, all the geeks from film school who’re still doing better than you, those freaks you meet in public restrooms. You just might get one of these schmucks to pay you to write it. If not, try pitching your landlord. Again, your agent ain’t gonna get you work - you are. And if you think otherwise, you’re just one big wet turd floating in Shit City. So instead of wanting to fire your agent, make use of the fact that you have one. Stop bitching and get some heat going. Yessiree, heat...ah, look who’s back. My lovely writing intern - with a box of Cubans! Ay yi yi!
Dear Dick Hollywood, I am not in the film business yet and would like to base my first screenplay on an old novel. What is the process to acquire the film rights to a novel, and do I need an agent? So, you want to know what the process is in acquiring a novel? I suppose the next thing you’ll be asking for is the technology for the new Intel computer chip or where the lost treasure of Incas is hidden or, God forbid, the recipe for my Grandmother’s potato latkes. Well, you’re not getting a stitch of information out of me. Nada. Nothing. Not a single word. Unless...unless you have one of those rare Swedish porno movies from the ’70s...oh, just forget it. I’ll answer your damn question. If you’re not in the film business yet, it’s probably a safe to say you don’t have an agent. So it’s perfectly fine for you to inquire about the film rights all by yourself. The first step: Run yourself over with a forklift. No, that’s not it. The first step: Find out who published the book in question. This information can be found at the front of the book, usually on the other side of the title page. This is where you’ll find the name and address of the publisher and the date it was first published. You need to call information of the city the publisher is located in and get their number. (For example, if a publisher is in New York and you call Montana, you may not get the right number. Do...you...un-der-stand?) Once you have the publisher on the phone, tell a good racist joke. Any religion, color or creed will do. If that doesn’t work, talk dirty to them. No, you inbred imbecile! Tell them the title of the work you’re interested in and they will direct your call to the rights department. Remember: If you sound like the moron I think you are, they’ll tell you never to call again and hang up on you. So work on your phone skills. If you don’t sound like a moron, someone in the rights department will tell you if the rights are available. If the rights are not available, your best bet is to incinerate yourself immediately. If the rights are available, then the rights department will point you in the direction of who to contact next. This will usually be the representatives of the author, either an agent or lawyer. The second step: Pat yourself on the back. It’s impossible to believe that an utter retard like you has gotten this far! The third step: Call the agent or lawyer of the author and start negotiating a price for the rights. What you’ll be negotiating for is an option on the material. You won’t be able to buy it, but an option gives you the rights for a specified amount of time for a specified price. Try to make the amount you have to spend as low as possible. Sometimes it’s even possible to get the option for free. Then, if you actually sell your screenplay (don’t get your hopes up; it’s unlikely you’ll ever sell anything), whoever buys it has to shell out the big bucks to pay for the book. I know this is a lot to take in for such a miniscule mind as yours, but if you read this six or seven times you may start to comprehend it. Now it’s back to those Swedish pornos for me. Tonight’s double feature: Inga’s Bedroom Broomstick and Helga’s Horny Stepgrandchildren. Oofah!
Dear Dick Hollywood, Your column is mean and ugly. Readers have genuine questions about how the film business works, and you treat them like scum. Who the hell do you think you are? You miserable sack of pus and bile. You moronic, no-talent speck of shit at the bottom of a festering puddle of chicken urine. I am Dick Hollywood! That’s who the hell I think I am: Dick Hollywood and damn proud of it. Now let me give you a quick history lesson. I wanted to be a screenwriter more than anything in the world. So I moved to L.A. – this goddamn filthy sewer of a city – ten years ago, with nothing but a dream and an egg beater. That’s right, shitweasel – an egg beater! I didn’t know anyone. I had no clue how to write a script or how this evil business works. All I wanted was to make movies for a living. So what did I do? I hid in my dumpy apartment for two months and flogged my flounder. Then, after some low-grade pharmaceutical assistance, I took action. I enrolled in screenwriting classes and seminars. I met other damaged people with the same pathetic dreams. I scammed as much money as I legally could, and somehow got into a graduate writing program. I made contacts, mostly in downtown bars. I tried to get laid...but that’s another story. I read every screenwriting book I could steal. I studied how the business works. What kind of scripts was Hollywood buying and making? Who were the major producers, directors and executives? What female agents liked to be lapped in public bathrooms? Some of these questions were answered in the trade papers. Every day, at the local newsstand, I would shove copies of The Hollywood Reporter and Daily Variety down my pants and haul ass. It felt kinda funky down there. So...where was I? Oh – then I got a job reading for a studio. I evaluated scripts for executives. And I struggled for five years writing my own crappy scripts. Finally, I got an agent, sold a few specs, and became a successful working screenwriter. Now I even teach classes at a top graduate film school in L.A. And you? You’re still sitting on your fat, pimply ass reading this column. I busted my balls to get where I am today! (Actually, today I’m at a Russian massage parlor.) But I still have to answer letters from thankless little pukes like you, whining about this and bitching about that. If more people would simply listen to those who know more than they do, do the hard work that’s needed to break into this business and really apply themselves, then I wouldn’t have to call you the butt-pirate loser that you are. So don’t tell me I get off on making fun of people. I’m just preparing you for the hard knocks of Hollywood; for the way you will be treated until you prove you’re worthy of better. Those of you who have what it takes – perseverance and thick skin – will survive. Those of you who don’t, won’t. And that’s what keeps this city from getting more crowded, even greater gridlock, and even more shitty $100 million movies! As it is, my advice to you would be to stay right where you are: sitting on that fat, pimply ass of yours. This massage parlor ain’t big enough for the both of us.
Dear Dick Hollywood, Do people in Hollywood buy story ideas, or just scripts? I have lots of ideas, but I don’t want to write them down. The first thing you should do is put your head in a bread slicer. But do it nice and slow so that your brains come leaking out of your ears. In fact, if you kill yourself, you could be clearing the way for some nice kid from Kentucky to move into your apartment and decorate it with a lot more style and taste than you have. Now...yes, you can sell ideas to Hollywood. This is known as a pitch. Pitches sell a lot. But when you pitch you have to have much more than just an idea or a concept. (Although in rare cases, just a concept can be sold. This happens if you have a proven track record at selling scripts, are a somewhat established writer who has worked in the studio system, or enjoy having oral sex with studio executives.) For a burnt-out, going nowhere, prissy-ass lad like yourself, you will need more than just the concept of the pitch. You need to know your three acts (the beginning, middle and end) with clear endings to each act. You’ll need to tell your three acts in a quick, coherent way, which also has to be dramatic, funny and compelling. You need to know who your lead characters are, what makes them tick, histories, and, most importantly, their character arc. “Character arc?” you ask? “What in hell is that?” It’s their entire emotional journey. You know, like when you go to a hooker. At the start you have a really huge hard-on and are ready to get it on, but when you leave you’re all flaccid and you have no sexual desire whatsoever. The fact is the character arc is the single most important part of any pitch. So, until you become more established, it’s going to be very hard to just sell concepts. If you’re really that lazy that you don’t want to write anything down, then hire a writer to work out your concept with you. Or you can have the writer work it out by himself and attach yourself as a producer only. Now get off your large butt and start doing something with your life. Either that or find yourself a nice, big bread slicer.
Dear Dick Hollywood, I’m a farmer living in Iowa and I want to know why farm pictures are not being made. Doesn’t Hollywood know that 38% of the working population are actually in agriculturally-related industries? I don’t rightly know if you know this, Goober, but Hollywood has a mighty rich history of makin’ farm-related films. No reason you and your wife/sister, children, nieces and nephews can’t mosey on down to the local video hut an’ rent some of them classics instead of belly-achin’ that movie people ain’t fillin’ yer bowl o’ mush. Here’s a few pickins to soil your overalls...what about the 1956 farm epic Not Without My Farming Equipment? This gripping drama based on the classic Alexandre Dumas novel, “Farm Living is the Life for Me,” stars Jimmy Stewart as the stoic father of twenty-seven during the Depression. In one of the best-remembered scenes in film history, Stewart, faced with the prospect of having no money, crops or food, feeds horse manure to his children for breakfast. Roger Ebert calls it “A farm classic. The manure is so real, you can taste it.” Then there’s the slapstick masterpiece Farm Farts, starring Jerry Lewis and John Wayne as two Chinese railroad workers who buy a farm and enjoy farting contests. In his autobiography, The Toughest Motherfucker Alive, the Duke said of the movie; “This was the most fucking fun I ever had making a fucking picture that wasn’t about killing a bunch of prairie monkeys. And Jerry Lewis may be a scrawny fucking retard, but Jesus fucking Christ did he make me laugh!” Now for the best news of all – expect a re-emergence of the farm film in the upcoming year. Some of the movies being readied for release: Gizzard, Steven Spielberg’s remake of Jaws. The location has changed to a Mississippi farm and instead of a killer shark, it’s a killer chicken. Then, of course, there’s A Barnyard for Barry. Jim Belushi stars as a man who loses a bet and has to eat an entire barn. There it be, Jethro. A whole slew of farm viewin’. So next time y’all want to mouth off, tie some rocks around yer neck and throw yerself down a well...
Dear Dick Hollywood, I just moved to L.A. and need to know how in the world to get an agent. Yeah, you and 250,000 other people. And these are just the people who live in all those cheesy, pseudo-Spanish-style, stucco-looking Hollywood high-rises on your block. There are plenty of other high-rises on plenty of other blocks. And this is just in Hollywood. See what I’m saying? Here’s an amusing suggestion: Find a glass bottle and shove it up your ass. No, that’s not right. The first and best thing for you to do is find anyone who knows an agent, or knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows a relative of a workman who knows an ex-roommate of an agent. You see, the best way to have your work noticed is to have someone personally refer you to the scumbag...er...I mean, agent. Your chances improve according to how much the agent knows and respects the person who’s giving him or her the material. Really, the best person to get it to is one of their clients. The agent will be much more willing to give you their precious undevoted time. So, if you don’t know any represented writers, directors or actors, go to any Starbucks or topless bar and you’ll be sure to hook up with one. The next best way is to get some projects going yourself. Seek out producers, enter writing contests, try to make your own movie. If you start to make a name for yourself, the agents will come sniffing around and be a little more receptive to taking your call. If you can get your first gig on your own, agents will swarm like bees. Agents love nothing more than to appear on the scene after an offer’s in place. The next best thing is to get an agency guide and start sending out cold queries. Believe it or not, you will get responses. They may not be from top-of-the-line people, but remember, once you have a slimebucket ...er...I mean, agent, it’s easy to get another one. So, there it is. Take my advice. Or go find that bottle and start shoving!
Dear Dick Hollywood, Ever since I was a little kid I’ve wanted to strike it big in Hollywood, but it seems like there is no easy way. I’m sure you’ve picked up a few “trade secrets” along the way. Any chance you’d share them? Forget it, kid. You just don’t have what it takes. You’re too enthusiastic, too bright-eyed. For Christ’s sake, you sound like Opie, or worse, Tony Danza! Do yourself a favor. Become a food inspector. They could use annoyingly upbeat, good-natured little pricks like you. Sorry, but dreams die hard. Just kidding! Here are the Four Golden Dick Rules of how to strike it big in Hollywood. One: Move to Hollywood. Sure, you’ve heard the stories of people being flown in to take two weeks of meetings. But this is rare, kid. And the truth is, most of these non-Hollywood residents are already big swingin’ dicks. For no-name asswipes like you, being in town is key. You need to meet face-to-face with people who can help you. Two: Make Contacts. Once in Hollywood, work hard to hook up with many other eager little bastards like yourself. Do this by enrolling in film programs, taking night classes, joining writer’s groups, taking writing seminars, reading as many books as you can on the craft, and hanging out in the men’s bathroom at Griffith Park. (Hey, I said “make contacts!”) Three: And this is important – Write! Many writers spend a shocking amount of time talking about writing, reading about writing, thinking about writing, preparing for writing, but never actually write a word. Why? Because they’re really fucked up and should be on medication! So don’t be like these jerk-offs. Write your goddamn script. Four: Once You Have a Written Script Show It to Everybody and Anybody Who Will Read It. Try to find out which of your friends has access to agents, entertainment lawyers and managers and then get those lucky fucks to submit your script to them. If they won’t, offer sex. If you’re sexually unattractive, then threaten to kill them. If you have no “connected” friends, get ahold of a Hollywood Creative Directory and The Writers Network Annual Agency Guide and send your script out to those who will accept it. So, there it is, four easy and brilliant steps to making it big in Hollywood. Now good luck finding a job, Opie.
Dear Dick Hollywood, I’ve heard it’s easier to sell scripts for smaller films than for big action movies. Yet, why does it seem that every time I turn around, it’s the huge megabudget scripts that sell? What do they really want? What do they want? What do they want?! Why is it always what they want?! What about what I want?! I want something young. Something fresh. Something voluptuous. Something flexible. Something edible. Something that won’t talk much. Something with C-cups. Remember: like Charlie Sheen, I’m willing to pay. Okay, what do they want? Basically, you can’t think like that, douchebag. Don’t ask what they want. Don’t try to second-guess the market; don’t try to figure out the trends; don’t try to write what you think is hot this week. This is how apelike half-wits like yourself fall flat on their rumps. The market has no idea what it likes; trends don’t last, and what’s hot this week will definitely NOT be hot by the time you finish your script about the haunted bathtub and the sickly, black janitor. As in all phases of life, NEVER EVER act out of desperation. Instead, ask what you want. What are the fabulous stories rolling around your brain? This is what will put your ass on the map. Now, this doesn’t mean you disregard the industry standard completely. Have some fucking clue what’s commercial and what’s not. But for the most part, ignore what you think will sell and write what you want to sell. Get it, Einstein? That’s why I’m great and you’re just plain grating.
Dear Dick Hollywood, I’m planning on moving from Minnesota to Hollywood in order to pursue a career in filmmaking. The problem is, all my friends tell me I can expect a totally different social scene once I get there. What should I expect and how should I go about making the adjustment? Your favorite Uncle Dick will be happy to discuss all the social adjustments you’ll need to make. You see, here in L.A., it’s just not acceptable to have sexual intercourse with sheep, cows and goats like it is in the Twin Cities. So, as crazy as it sounds, you’ll have to force yourself to have sex with people. In order to best acquaint yourself with human genitalia, I suggest you rent any Harvey Keitel movie and/or Showgirls. Also, no more masturbating while waiting in line at the bank, trying to cop a feel off Grandma is off limits, and absolutely positively no playing the fucking fiddle at dance clubs. What you should expect in L.A. is that you’ll come into contact with people who have no listening skills, are totally self-involved, want very little to do with you unless you can further their career (or give them comments on their script or hook them up with a good cigar), obsess about how they didn’t get laid in high school, obsess about seeing their names in the trades, obsess about how hard it is to be freakin’ happy when they discover you’re actually doing worse than they are, obsess about being too obsessive...Do you see what I’m getting at here? When you come to L.A., expect to come into contact with people who will be generally unfriendly and unwilling to help you. So the best thing you can do is get involved in hobbies or take classes where you will have direct interaction with people who have similar goals and interests. The point is, get involved in activities so you can start making friends quickly. L.A. can be a real lonely city if you don’t. Especially if Grandma and the goats aren’t just around the corner anymore.
Dear Dick Hollywood, Help! I’m in a high-stress job at one of the big agencies, but what I really want to do is write. Any suggestions as to how I can make the cross-over without burning any bridges? Yap. Yap. Yap. Get over it. Your job isn’t ‘high stress,’ you’re just a pussy. If you want to write, then just write. Stop agonizing over it. You’re just finding more excuses not to write. Stop being a fucking baby and do what you want to do. That’s the problem with most people; they’re too busy complaining about why their life isn’t the way it should be. Then, they turn around and find they’re eighty-years-old and they haven’t accomplished a damn thing. So, the first thing you gotta know is if you can write. If you can’t, all this nail-biting is a big waste of everyone’s time. Therefore, in your spare time, write a script. Don’t tell anyone. Just do it. If you actually finish something you’re ahead of the game. Most people only get to page twenty, realize how hard it is to actually write something and they quit. If you have finished, quietly slip it to a few trusted friends. Get their feedback. If none of your friends can be trusted (and if they’re in the industry, they can’t be) then send it to the Writers Network to be analyzed. If you have talent, then you have my blessing to get an agent or to write another one. Now, here’s some more reality, you’re not going to burn any bridges if you write a script, you pathetic, self-absorbed, procrastinator. Trust me, the world’s political-economic infrastructure isn’t going to be disrupted just because you write a script. It’s all very simple - if you write a good script everyone will be your best friend and if you write a shitty script the only ramification is that people won’t respect your creative criticism anymore. So, whenever you comment on a script your coworkers and friends will be thinking, ‘What the hell does he know? His script sucked.’ So stop whining, start writing, and leave me the hell alone.
Dear Dick Hollywood, Once and for all, are goatees in or out? I just have to know. I’m willing to wager that you don’t even know what a goatee is. Most people think it’s a mustache attached to a chin beard. However, this is actually a Van Dyke. A goatee is strictly the chin beard. Also, just in case you’re wondering, half a mustache and chin beard is a Van Gogh. Wearing strictly half a chin beard and no mustache at all is a Cobaine. Now, a mustache that curves around the mouth is a Fu Manchu. A razor thin mustache is a Gable. Thick sideburns are mutton chops. A Gable that attaches to mutton chops is just plain silly. A full beard with no mustache is a Lincoln. A mustache with a bushy beard that goes down to your chest is a ZZ. A bushy beard down to your chest with a mustache and an earring is a fuck-up. A clump of whiskers under your bottom lip is a Thornton. Any facial hair and a bald head is a Connery. A black guy with any facial hair is a Shaft. Completely clean-shaven is a Gilligan. Completely clean-shaven, over 50 years old and a desire to have sex with your stepdaughter is a Woody. (Interestingly enough, a hard on is also a Woody.) And, last but not least, a full beard and mustache is a Coppola. Okay, having said all this, the answer to your question is: goatees in their correct definition are totally in, but goatees in their more commonly incorrect definition are outdated as Pearl Jam and nose rings. Take advice from the Dick-man, start your own new trend and glue loose change and thumb tacks to your face. Now that’s using your chin.
Dear Dick Hollywood, Why does everyone in Hollywood have such a big ego? How can I get one? Shut the fuck up, you goddamn retard.
Dear Dick Hollywood, I’m an older guy. I just retired and am already tired of playing golf. I’d like to try my hand at making movies, but I heard the business is only run by “young” people. Does ageism exist in Hollywood? And if so, don’t you think there’s a need for movies with adult stories and themes? Duh, of course there’s ageism in Hollywood, you prune. Get this through your elderly, Geritol-taking peabrain, there is absolutley no need for movies with adult themes. You think the world needs another experience like The English Patient? Hell no. Adult themes suck. All I want to see is a cartoon version of John Cusack making wisecracks, going after forlorn, sexy lesbian babes while kicking ass against aliens from Uranus. Now that’s a movie! So my advice to you, Daddy-O, is keep playing golf and mind your own fucking business... Now, that’s the response most people would be thinking, and in many ways, it is the harsh reality of the film industry. This is a business that is utterly age-obsessed. Why? For some reason, youth sells; it grabs headlines. This is a town that hasn’t allowed Billy Wilder, the greatest living director, to make a film in almost two decades just because he’s old. That’s not to say there aren’t exceptions to the rule. Bruce Joel Rubin was well into his 40s before he sold Ghost. Then there are people like Robert Towne, William Goldman, Sidney Lumet, Alan Pakula and Waylon Green, who continue to work well into their 50s. So it can be done, but it ain’t easy. One of the major problems is box office. That an intelligent film like Secrets & Lies can barely make $10 million and mindless garbage like Beverly Hills Ninja makes over $30 million doesn’t exactly help. The best thing you can do is not worry about all the possible roadblocks and simply concentrate on telling stories you want to tell. Now, just be grateful I was in such a good mood today.
Are there any techniques or medical prescriptions available for procrastination, like a patch or something? With a wife, a kid on the way and my day job, I can only find time to make excuses as to why I can’t finish my script. Help. -Looking for a Fix