Save the Cat! Strikes Back: More Trouble For... (19 page)

To which I'd say:
Trust me, Ben, the agent will appear
.

Yet as weeks turned into months, nothing was happening.

So Ben would phone with the same complaint.

Trust me, Ben
, I'd repeat,
the agent will appear
.

While driving back from giving a speech at the Great American Pitchfest here in Los Angeles, my cell phone rang. It was Ben with news: Universal just bought his script, and guess what?

What!?

Ben had an agent! Seems just before going out with the script, Underground got Ben a really great rep from CAA who had handled the whole thing. She was standing right there by his side the whole time — and even negotiated a better deal for him!

Imagine that.

I don't mean to sound smug, but this is just part of the growing-up process we all must do with our careers. Agents don't appear on hope. They don't appear because you're a nice guy or gal with a great idea and a lot of promise. They appear when there's something real for them to appear for, that allows them to do what
they
do best, namely take the interest that is already there in a finished property and pound the buyer into making a better deal for their client. And until those things are in place, not only is there no need for an agent, but thinking about getting one is a distraction to the job at hand:

Writing a great script.

The real irony of all this is the fact that after the first blush of success was over, and Ben had completed his rewrites for Universal and was ready for the next step, he got another surprise. There he was, remember, with both a manager
and
an agent — and all top people in the business, by the way.

And being what it is, along with an agent, an attorney had also appeared.
Wouldn't you know it!
My buddy Ben was now an S Corp with a great name for his company: Picture Frahm Productions, Inc. Yup. There he was. All agented up, and rarin’ to go! So when he walked into CAA wearing his new Prada loafers (no tassels — that's for East Coast squares), got his complimentary bottle of Fiji water, and was seated at the right hand of his agent, he was expecting a wand to be waved over him; instead he got a question:

“So Ben,” said his ten-percenter. “What're you working on?”

I would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that moment.

See?

Even with a deal, money in the bank, a record of success, and experience in the trenches, it's only leading to the next level, and the next level is pretty much the same as the first:

Whaddya got for me?

And so it was back to the drawing board. Write. Sell. Repeat. But when Ben returned to work, he did so with the knowledge not only that he was good at this — good enough to get a major-league sale — but that success was up to him.

He knew how to get there.

He will get there again!

And he'll do so with help, but mostly by doing the work.

You'll note too in this scenario another sage bit of wisdom I offer new writers in particular that has proven to be a winner:
Forget the agent, start with a manager!
Of all the people Ben queried when he sent out his batch of emails to targets culled from the
Hollywood Creative Directory
, managers were the most likely to respond. Why? Well, because in fact, managers are sometimes what I like to call
stealth producers
. Yes, they are interested in promoting your writing career but they are also interested in “attaching themselves” to your screenplay. And because they are managers — and not agents licensed to represent and sell their client solely — they are perfectly within their right to do so.

To which I add:
You go, Manager-man!

It may explain the rash of managers (and by rash, I don't mean the dermatological kind) that has broken out of late, and for whom you offer as much opportunity as they offer you.

To be a manager, all you have to say is that you are one. You put up your “shingle” (see
Variety
) and claim you can move projects forward, and get contacts for your clients, and
voila!
You can.

Hopefully.

Yes, there are a lot of folks out there who can rightfully claim to be a manager. And lots who can't. By signing up with one, you are mostly getting someone who wants to be a manager-slash-producer. And if you do your homework, and can vet them with research, I highly recommend it. While they will also be concerned with furthering your career, and can do that too, most are doing so to be involved in your movie.

If a true stealth producer is going to represent you, he must avoid what's called
double dipping
. This is where a manager charges a client both a manager's fee and gets a fee or producer bonus to be attached to your project. This is a no-no. And if your manager says
this is perfectly okay, you might drop the phrase “conflict of interest” into the conversation. Yup. If you ever want your phone call returned — and I mean lickety-split — that's the expression you want noted on the while-you-were-out pad on your manager's desk.

The controversy about managers and their true purpose goes on. And yet I insist they offer many advantages due to the ever-changing nature of the business… and a Hollywood in flux. The rise in the number of managers has come about because they are filling a need. There are more writers hoping for spec gold; there are also more ways to sell projects — Indie, Direct to DVD, Made for Cable, webcast, TV movie — and not enough agents to cover it all. Agents cannot live on 10% of a tiny Direct-to-DVD sale; neither can a manager based solely on his fee. But someone has to push, and to do so there has to be more reward for the pusher; thus the stealth producer has a role to fill.

It's also because the role of agent is different. In the old days, the agent worked for… me, the writer. And while that's still the case, more and more agents represent “the project.” Why? Same thing. Economics. As an agent, I am less interested in your unsold one-act play, or your Indie-oriented “small” film, as I am in the thing I can pick up the phone and get an answer on today. I also think that because studios develop less, and are looking for “ready-to-shoot” scripts and projects that are easy to set up, the agent has become the
de facto
Story Department. Agents work for their clients, of course, and help create and launch projects their clients are working on, but they are more like gatekeepers for studios that don't develop as they used to.

And again, all that's fine; just be aware.

These days, I personally have just a manager, my bud, Andy Cohen, and we too work on a project-by-project basis. Sometimes Andy will take a manager's fee and sometimes he will attach himself to a project, and by doing so, ensure that I and my script are better represented when the movie is made. It's only when we need an agent to sell a project that we seek one out.

If I were new to the business, I might follow Ben Frahm's lead and “agent up” with a manager, agent, and lawyer. Contrariwise, I know some writers that use just a lawyer to close deals — or even do the negotiating themselves. Whatever works for you, do it. But when starting out, we are looking for partners, and very often that comes with the price of being managed or “magented,” a term coined by manager Christopher Pratt.

Yes, the agent vs. manager question has changed over the years, and will continue to morph based on where you are in your career, and where the business is. But one thing that is true for everyone today is how much work it takes to get a script ready for market. It's why you hear so many stories of representatives asking clients to do rewrites before sending a script out. And I don't mean polishes, I mean
reeeee-eeeeeee
-writes, often multiple drafts over months. Agent or manager, their reasons are the same:

1. The selling climate for specs is way tougher, and the days of
throwing it over the wall
of a studio are past; scattershot submissions are rarely successful, but more importantly…

2. A half-baked script is bad for the agent's and/or manager's reputation.
Why should I trust you next time you say a piece of material is great… when the last three you sent me were just tragic?

When it comes to the hours of “free” work it takes to get a script ready, it's up to you. You can stand on your outrage and demand:
Send my script out now! I don't want to do any more rewrites! I am tired of doing your bidding! I'm the writer here!

But every time I've done that, I'd wished I hadn't.

Ironically, part of the reason to do this work is to get your agent or manager invested in your project. Not only is your rep more in tune with the demands of the market, but if she can take pride in helping you massage a script, even suggesting bits and plot points that work, and you incorporate, just think about it…

Wouldn't you take more care on a sale of something you helped bring to life than on one you have no personal stake in?

It's like Peter Pan says to Wendy as they jump out the window:
You gotta believe!
It's so much better — and we might actually fly — if we're holding hands as we take the leap!

Among the members of your team — attorney, agent, and manager — all have different interests in your career, and charge different percentages. Typically the range of fees is like this:

Attorney: 5-7%

Agent: 10%

Manager: 10-15%

This may sound like a lot, but it
is
tax deductible! And in my experience, these folks — especially attorneys — are getting you over and above the percentage they are taking, sometimes two or three times that just by their very presence on a deal. And the right team is not only an economic benefit for you, but sleep-better-at-night insurance. How many times have I sat upright in bed at 3:00 a.m. wondering about a particular point on a contract, only to hit the hay five seconds later knowing my guys are the best and have already handled it? What you are buying with your percentages is confidence it's being done right.

Of course, horror stories do exist. I've heard examples where the writer, lawyer, and agent are satisfied with a deal, but the part of the contract we're waiting to close is… the manager's deal! Why? Because the stealth producer has suddenly appeared like Godzilla and wants to be included — or else he'll eat the building. In other cases, I have heard of deals collapsing, or slowed indefinitely, because the lawyer was taking great glee in bashing the lawyer on the other side, and having a grand old time while everyone else waits — but that's what they do.

Lawyers frequently end up as studio executives and have agendas of their own. They are trying to make money for their firms, of course, and make partner if they can. But they are also there for you on other matters, and do work over and above their client's
strictly professional needs. They can be hired on an hourly fee, but if hired on a 5-7% basis, they will often handle small personal matters, like minor legal problems and the reviewing of insurance and financial questions.

From the outside looking in, you're wondering, should you get this thing rolling? Is it worth giving away so much?

Hell yes.

Remember it was just you and your subscription to
People
magazine a minute ago. Three times the representation means three times the contacts. Should you spell out your concerns when you first meet with each member of the team? Of course. But if you're sitting across from me and dictating terms of how the deal should go before it happens, I might look askance. I might even put you in the life's-too-short category. Either you vet these folks and trust them or you don't. And remember the advice my wise old dad gave me:
50% of something is better than 100% of nothing
.

Truth be told, everybody is interested in the same thing: that new and easy project that will boost their careers and bring in a hatful of success — financial, critical, or both. Agents can
package
by adding other clients from their agency, and help their agency get a bigger piece of the pie; managers can do the same, including other clients as well as themselves in your deal; and studio execs are looking for sure bets, easy-to-make projects that will fill the slots of their studio's calendar.

That is, after all, the big difference between Indie and major studio production: Major studios are “programming” slots with say, summer blockbusters (May - September), Oscar contenders (October - December), holiday movies (Valentines Day, July 4, Christmas, Thanksgiving), and dumping “dogs” that got made, cost money, and now must recoup (second half of August and January - February). There is also a “spec sale season” that is usually two times a year:
February 15 to July 1
and
September 1 to December 15
. This is
normally when most specs are bought because that's when studio budgets are established for the year — and ready to be spent!

All these people have a whole lot more on their minds than your script, which may or may not be delivering the Fun and Games or have Midpoint problems. Because if it does not deliver… next! That is the swirling vortex of Hollywood. Let them do their jobs; your job is to make sure your script is as perfect as it can be.