So a month or so back I was editing an episode of a tv series I directed where, and lets be honest here, the script was so bad it makes Batman and Robin look like Glengarry Glen Ross. Regardless, there were moments I was proud of, little diamonds embedded in the huge pile of manure that was the episode, and God knows I worked my ass off on it, shooting till the wee hours of the morning dazed and confused trying to keep it all together.
Even editing was an ordeal, my computer being pushed to the llimits thanks to format and codec wars between companies making the footage a bitch to work with on my PC set-up, quad-core be damned (and no, this still won't turn me to the dark side of the Mac). Sure, it was a whore-job, purely for the money (and whore jobs are the only jobs i seem to have been able to get throughout the whole of this year) but there was an element of pride there, a bit of heart and passion in the whole thing.
So when the episode aired and it was credited to a different director and editor I was, understandably, a wee bit miffed.
Currently I'm writing a different tv series which is someone else's concept and story, and the whole process has been nothing less than frustrating. I was told from the beginning that every draft I write will definitely go through a lot of changes and I could understand that, but when you see the final draft and only a handful of your scenes actually make the final draft it tends to make one wonder whether it was changed for the purposes of the tone and story and series style in general or it was changed because it was shit. Right now I honestly don't know whether it's right that I get credited for the scripts because not much of it is my work.
All this whoring has gotten me into a funk of unprecedented proportions and the Guber is not liking it one bit. I just realized I haven't written a single script of my own material this whole year ("Breaking Up..." was improvised and "London Calling" was written last year). Sure, there was the short film i did at the beginning of the year, "The Writing on the Wall", but that was written for the purposes of the event, it wasn't a story I had a burning desire to tell from deep within my fast food encrusted bowels.
Yes, the whoring pays the bills and keeps the Guber well filled with munchies, but it's beginning to really get to me in a way that I never thought it would. I thought I could keep an objective view of things when working on other peoples stories but it's not as easy as I thought it would be.
Especially the whole 'credit' thing. Am I being a diva for thinking that it ain't right? Sure, I won't get any crap from critics for the unbelievable shittiness of the storyline, but there are parts that I am proud of, and what little praise the few decent scenes will get will be directed to someone else.
Sigh... but Guber still needs to get paid,and hence the whoring may have to continue. Every pitch I've done this year (and there have been quite a few) hasn't even been responded to with a "we'll let you know", they're either flat-out ignored or dubbed "too clever".
Yes, it's a bitch post. An emo rant of subdued proportions. Shit's getting to me, there is no doubt there, and the fact of the matter is it shouldn't. The fires need to be stoked, and the stoking apparatus must be dusted off and poked at my belly, for it is a fine belly of supreme girth.
Yes! The belly needs to be poked and stoked! Poked and prodded and pushed to regurgitative limits! The year is almost at an end, and something must be done. Something epic and moist with frilly bits! These are the bad days, the all or nothing days, they're back!
LET... US... FUCK...!
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