No Hurray for Hollywood

Stop the Insanity:
No Hurray for Hollywood

The first time I visited a live movie set for one of my books was Kiss The Girls, starring Morgan Freeman.

Everybody I met was nice to me.

But I found out pretty quickly that on most sets, the novelist ranks somewhere below the caterer.

People on set know why the caterer’s there. But the writer? Why was I there? All I did was come up with the idea for the movie, create the plot, the characters, the dialogue, the sequel…

If I ever lose my mind and write a novel about Hollywood, I already have the first line.

“Hello,” he lied.

I’m kidding.

Sort of.

Honestly, I would probably never do a book about Hollywood. Budd Schulberg, William Goldman, Carrie Fisher, they all beat me to it. And they wrote about the lunacy of that industry better than I ever could.

Here’s something I would really never do.

Be a Tinsel Town screenwriter.

Nope.  No thanks.  I’m a novelist.

Not a masochist.

Mammas, don’t let your babies grow up to be screenwriters!

Sometimes I’ll sit in on Zoom meetings about books of mine being adapted for TV or film.

I don’t recommend it.

The poor screenwriter gets pelted with rapid-fire notes from everybody even remotely involved with the project. They all have opinions—producers, executive producers, the producer’s interns, the producer’s cousin, the producer’s astrologer—and no one’s bashful about sharing them.

Sometimes, it seems, the more confusing or contradictory the note, the better.

After about ten minutes or so, I have to get off the Zoom. The screenwriter usually manages to stay cordial. But I start getting angry on their behalf. Or I start feeling ill.

I’m convinced this process isn’t helpful to anybody. Not the studio, not the investors, not the project itself.

Certainly not the audience.

Once in a while a decent note will slip through.  But most of them should be footnotes.  They raise everybody’s blood pressure.  They waste everybody’s time.  Especially the writer’s, who should really be back at their desk—call me crazy—writing.

Here’s a true story.

One of my projects was set up at a studio.  After turning in a draft, the screenwriter was given fifteen single-spaced pages of notes to digest and regurgitate.

I could tell he was about to lose it.

Until, finally, a shred of sanity peeked through the clouds.

One of the senior execs—a really good one—said, “Look, let me boil all these notes down for you.  Make us love the main character and I’ll greenlight the show.”

That’s the kind of note that’s actually helpful for a writer.  It’s clear.  It’s actionable.  It’s motivating.

In my not so humble opinion, the system in Hollywood has been broken since the beginning of Hollywood.

Back in the old days, crazy studio heads would shout, “People love circuses!  People love cowboys!  Give me a movie about circuses and cowboys!  Get me ten writers to write it!”

If you’ve been to a theater lately, it’s shocking how little that’s changed, and how bad most movies have gotten.

Or maybe it’s not so shocking—now that you know what goes on behind the scenes.

OK.  That’s enough insanity for today.

But trust me.  I’ll write about Hollywood again soon.

“Trust me,” he lied…

—James Patterson

For more of my “Stop the Insanity” essays, please visit my Substack.