VFS Progress Report #2: The First Three Months

Four days shy of month three.

In some ways, the time seems to have passed by like a Japanese bullet train at rush hour, just like some said it would.  In other ways, it feels like the days and weeks have followed one another at a pace that my sage grandmother, when discussing the passage of time in her own life at 87, called "just right".

If time is, at least in part, a measuring stick of what we have and haven't accomplished in life, VFS has helped us make extraordinarily good use of it.  On Orientation day (August 22), I blogged my strong belief that VFS couldn't be expected to work miracles, that I had to grab every opportunity to write or network when it strolled by, and that ultimately, my VFS experience would be as good as I made it.

Was I right? Here's how it has gone down so far:

1. "VFS can't be expected to work miracles." 

By miracles, I mean the magical ability to turn me into a brilliant, award-winning writer, or the bestowal of a long, satisfying career upon completion of my program.  No school has that kind of power and no one at VFS ever pretended it did.  Having said that, I've been blown away by what VFS has managed to pull off so far.  Time and experience have clearly helped the departmental powers that be to build a solid, low-fat, high-output program.  Compressing a two-year program into one, we're definitely stretched, but it never feels like too much, partly because all the classes fit together in such a clearly integrated, "wax-on-wax-off" kind of way, and partly because the assignments are just so much darned fun and targeted to help us build a kick-ass portfolio. 

Plus, the instructors are ridiculously invested in students.  And let's be honest, they could easily half-mile it if they wanted to.  These are successful, busy writers in their own right - i.e. they've got shit to do.  A few nods here and there wrapped in feigned interest might pass with a good number of students.  But this crew steadfastly refuses to take the easy way out.  No matter how many story ideas or pitches they listen to, no matter how many synopses, outlines, beat sheets, or scripts they read, they keep coming to class and workshop fresh and as committed to our work as we are.  I've been to two universities and half a dozen other post-secondary programs, and I've never seen instructors go above and beyond like this.

And I haven't even talked about the constant stream of mentorships, guest speakers, contests and events VFS offers, none of it window dressing.  If we don't walk out of here significantly better (and better-connected) writers than when we came, it's won't be VFS's fault.  So miracles, no.  Ridiculous opportunity and development - hell, ya!

2. "I have to grab every opportunity to write and network that comes my way."
The great thing about having theoretically lived half my life already is that I've discovered how rare certain opportunities tend to be.  I mean, when else am I going to spend a full year surrounded by other writers, story editors, and writing mentors, many of whom have been writing successfully for years and are actively connected to industry - all freely and constantly available to talk and workshop with, give feedback, and help me build my chops and confidence?  When else am I going to be able to write all day long, month after month, building skill and a body of work, free from the encumbrances of "normal life"?  When else am I going to get to collaborate not only with other writers, but with directors, producers, visual and sound designers, and actors on projects with virtually no creative limitations, in an environment designed to help us make our cinematic dreams come true?  The correct answer is, "Probably never".

So I decided from the beginning to keep my ears and eyes open to every email, poster, or whisper in the wind announcing that an opportunity to write or collaborate was near, and then jump on it in a full-body choke-hold.  Whether it's VFS's regular Compendium production, private student productions, open pitch sessions, opportunities to hear and meet guest speakers (regardless of the department hosting them), regularly-offered elective classes or chances to score music, I'm on it.

Yes, I am trying to be a hero: the hero of my own life, thank you very much, Mr. Campbell! I paid twenty grand to be here and it's all I've ever wanted to do!  I'm going to miss out on a chance to get better and meet the right people because I'm a little tired?  Somebody call a wahmbulance, but not for me.  It's for the guy sitting next to me who plans on crying into his beer ten years from now, whining about what "could have been".    

J.J. Abrams' new series, "Alcatraz", in production outside VFS

3. "Ultimately, my VFS experience will be as good as I make it."

To succeed at VFS, paying attention, building relationships, and meeting deadlines are critical.  Early on, I developed tools and a process that would streamline everything, from plot and beat sheet creation to character development to pitching. No point in re-inventing the wheel with each assignment. 

At the start of each term, I've clarified the objectives and outcomes of each class to avoid getting lost in a sea of "to-dos" and to make sure assignments get to teachers on time. 

And there's no replacement for building strong, genuine, relatively ego-free relationships with everybody.  And by everybody, I mean everybody - students, teachers, people from different departments, guests, and the lady who cleans the bathroom.  I don't think I need to explain why that's so important.

Beyond those chestnuts, it's about quality and volume.  Generating a lot of ideas, throwing them against the wall to see which ones stick, and then producing like a freakin' rabbit.  "Write well, write lots," has become my mantra.  Lucky for us, VFS throws us so many assignments, we couldn't end the year with a meagre portfolio if we tried.  To date, between class assignments and extracurricular projects, I've completed or am working on:

1. Four feature screenplay outlines, one in development ("Can We Meet?", "Full Circle", "World On Fire", "Early Retirement")
2. One original short screenplay ("From the Bench")
3. One adapted short screenplay ("Enveloped", based on a story by fellow student Nicole Jerick)
4. One TV spec teleplay ("Big Bang Theory")
5. One animated spec teleplay ("Kid vs. Kat")
6. One original animated series treatment ("Street Bosses")
7. Two short stories ("Howard", "A Date Interrupted")
8. Five VFS Compendium short screenplays ("The T Party", "Beating the Beast", Split Decision", "Facing the Queen", "The Garden of Eaten")
9. One original short screenplay for a student film (in production)
10. A second original short screenplay for a student film (in development)

That's fourteen working concepts or finished products in less than three months.  And I was worried about whether I'd come out of VFS with enough on my resume.  But we've all got a story like that.  All of us are going to walk out of here with a suitcase full of surprises when we're done. How many suprises, and how well they help set us up for the future, is our call.

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Tatchell & Jennewein Inspire Screenwriters

Guest post originally published on Vancouver Film School's Blog (Friday, November 4, 2011)

During the recent Writing for Film & Television Two-Weekend Intensive, VFS played host to two special guest speakers: alumna/Oscar nominee Terri Tatchell and Advisory Board member Jim Jennewein.  

The Two-Weekend Intensive was a chance for aspiring screenwriters to experience a barrage of screenwriting tools, techniques, and exercises.  Some attendees responded by saying “the instructors are wonderful” and that it “exceeded every possible expectation”.  We hope the weekends were the beginning of something much bigger for everyone involved. 

Guest Post by Paul Donnett

Even for students who’ve mortgaged an arm and a leg to come to Vancouver Film School, stuffing a Friday night with one more teacher, not matter how “wafer thin”, can be a tough sell.

Just ask writing department head Michael Baser, who could be found at any given time peeking around corners and classroom doors like Kilroy on the days that Hollywood screenwriter Jim Jennewein (October 21) and District 9 co-writer Terri Tatchell (October 28) came to town, inviting us to attend if at all possible.  I mean, honestly, what could these two tell us that we hadn’t already heard, in one class or another, every day since orientation?

But good speakers aren’t stupid, and neither (usually) are the ones that invite them.  (You’re welcome, Michael.)  Speaking plainly about some of the challenges writers face in the film industry, from writing high concept comedy that sells to navigating the Hollywood food chain just to get a script read, Mr. Jennewein clearly understood how to make his Friday night presentation worth our time.  With writing credits that include Major League 2, The Flintstones, and Richie Rich, Jennewein briefly reviewed the basics of story writing before moving into a dynamic discussion of the rules of comedy, why some comedies work and others don’t, and the importance of getting inside the heads and hearts of our audiences.

Academy Award nominee Terri Tatchell brought a profoundly human vibe to a presentation that was less lecture than conversation, this one with teacher Kat Montagu in an engaging exchange straight out of Inside the Actors Studio.  Opening up on the real-life balancing act of writer as parent, Tatchell also talked about projects past, present and future, including the upcoming adaptation of Amanda Hocking’s Trylle Trilogy and the full-length feature Chappie, currently in development with husband (and 3D Animation & Visual Effects grad) Neil Blomkamp (Elysium).

In her disarmingly down-to-earth manner, she somehow managed to make the ego-crushing work of writing and film production feel not only doable, but eminently worth it.  It was like sitting and having coffee with an old friend.  An old friend with an Oscar nod and a loft on Granville Island.  Sigh.  One day. 

In both cases, Jennewein’s and Tatchell’s, it wasn’t their information so much as their inspiration that made coming out worth it.  Even if we had heard some of it before (and we had), it was still hugely motivating to hear a fresh spin coming from experience in a world we’re all training madly to enter, while being encouraged to respect the needs and demands of our own humanity.  Next time a speaker comes to town, go if you can, even if you think it’s just “more of the same”.  There’s a good chance it won’t be, and you never know what lights might get turned on in the process!

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