EXIT THE DRAGON

I recently had to step away from the reinvention of the Bruce Lee classic, Awaken the Dragon. It comes down to a matter of timing. I've had to pass and handover other feature gigs before, but this one was especially painful as I truly loved this project and the people I was working with. It began over a year and half ago when I pitched my concept to the now defunct Warner Independent Pictures. I had two agendas in the feature world. I was looking for a small, character-driven action piece to write and direct. And being a huge Film Noir fan, I wanted to use those style and story devices to tell a modern tale. The one sheet breakdown on the Awaken the Dragon project stated that John Wells and Warner Independent were looking for a Noir reinvention of Enter the Dragon. It was like they were reading my diary. I worked for a month on the pitch, crafting a fairly dark story using all the noir devices -- femme fatale, voiceover, reversals, etc. Here was my expanded logline:

Awaken the Dragon is a reinvention of the Bruce Lee classic, Enter the Dragon, that brings the narrative into modern day, while paying homage to the original movie. Using the devices of Film Noir, the story follows a lone FBI agent who pursues a rogue Shaolin Monk into the bloody world of underground martial art fight clubs. There will be nothing stylized or choreographed. The look is Noir minimalist and the action is raw. It will expose the brutality of Shaolin Kung Fu, showing the fighting style in its most vicious and deadly form. It’s more Raging Bull, than Crouching Tiger.

The producers and the studio loved the pitch. I was hired. Then it all fell apart.

A writer works very hard in this town to establish “quotes” -- his rate of pay. I had written five other feature projects and my rate incrementally grew with each project. It’s crucial for agents to establish and hold true to these rates. WIP was an independent studio, not subject to the same parameters of its mother studio, Warner Bros. So there were many business affairs discussions to make this project fiscally feasible for me within the realities of a smaller studio. I had a directing deal in place at big Warners so that had to be factored in as well. Bottom-line, it was taking FOREVER to close the deal. I’ve learned from experience that until you see a document with a dollar sign, it’s best not to put pen to paper. So I boarded the story, beat it all out and waited. Finally, the deal closed. Everyone felt loved and appreciated, I was commenced and I began writing.

Fifteen pages in -- the WGA strike was authorized.

I remember talking to Shawn Ryan about “not writing” during the strike. I knew that people were going to be working on their own projects during the strike. I said to Shawn, “C’mon, it’s cool if I crank out this script, right?” Shawn was very clear, “We’re on strike, we don’t write. Not for ourselves and especially not for a studio.” My agents and managers echoed Shawn’s sentiment. I listened and put down the pen.

As I became more engaged in the strike I realized the importance of what Shawn was saying. It spoke to solidarity. It would be hard to show up on the picket line with my brothers and sisters demanding our fair share, knowing that I was going home to generate content for the very people we were striking against. I didn’t write another page.

Two things happened during the next 100 days. The first was good news; Sons of Anarchy was picked up to series. As the strike ended, we immediately went into production. Reshooting the pilot and shooting twelve episodes. They were going to premier the show with the final season of The Shield, so we were under extraordinary time pressure to finish the first season.

The second was bad news; Warner Independent Pictures went under. Their projects and some of their personnel were scattered amongst the Warner family. No one was sure where the Awaken the Dragon project would land or if it would survive at all.

A few months ago we found out that big Warners paid to renew the option and that Dragon would now fall under their jurisdiction. The executive on the project was Matt Reilly. I love Matt. He’s pretty much been involved with everything I’ve done at Warners. Really smart guy, good taste.

I reconnected with the producers, reminded everyone of the pitch, sat down with Matt, got him excited about it. Everyone was in love again. Then I began working on season two of SOA. And it hit me -- I’ve worked on TV and feature projects simultaneously before, but running a show is different than just writing a show. Once production begins, I’m working 70+ hours per week and the show has to be my only priority. Even though I desperately wanted to continue with Dragon, ultimately I realized that it was not something I could do part-time. My fear was that if I continued with the project, both Dragon and Sons would suffer. It was a King Solomon moment -- do I risk splitting the baby in two or do I hand it over to another mother. And so, another fucking mother, brother.

My experience so far in my career has been this -- when I show up with my truth, try to behave like a decent human being, I am ultimately led to the next right project. For now I have to believe that whomever John Wells and Warners hires to take over this project, they will be far better qualified than me.

The one upside is that all the Bruce Lee fanboys, appalled at the idea of this remake, can now stop sending me hate mail.

ONE YEAR LATER

I ripped this from Nikki Finke's DHD. A great piece by Howard Rodman. Very satisfying. Howard Rodman is professor and former chair of the writing division at the USC School of Cinematic Arts; a member of the board of directors of the Writers Guild of America, West; and an artistic director of the Sundance Institute Screenwriting Labs. His films include Savage Grace, August, and Joe Gould's Secret.

Let's start with what everyone who's not in bed with the media conglomerates knows: that the strike was among the most successful ever in Guild history-- In terms of solidarity, in terms of impact, in terms of energizing and engaging the membership, but mostly, in terms of What Was Won.

First and foremost, the Guild got jurisdiction over new media. Anyone who doesn't understand how central that is still gets out of bed to change the channel. (I often recall the picket-line stroller carrying a tot with the sign, "It's Old Media to me.")

I would add to this the fact that in new media (which is to say, going forward: media) we base our residuals on distributor's gross rather than producer's gross. (These concepts have always been somewhat arcane, so let me just put it this way: producer's gross is what's left after the casino takes its 80% skim.) There are many other advances, but to me, these are the ones that allow writers to have a future.

As long as John McLean and Peter Bart are indulging in revisionist history, let's give praise where praise is due, because in ways that are insufficiently acknowledged, the true lion's share of the credit for last year's fine contract belongs to one of those gentlemen.

It was during the 2004 negotiations that our then-Executive Director John McLean negotiated against his own Guild -- far more than he was willing to negotiate against his old pals in the conglomerates. Again and again he maintained we'd be "laughed out of the room" if we asked for the things we asked for -- and in many cases won -- in last year's contract.

During some of the dismal, dispiriting, and astonishingly long Negotiating Committee meetings, some of us began to pass notes. And to hum, under our breath, "Which Side Are You On."

So we organized; we ran for office (something none of us wanted to do); we worked hard to build a more truly democratic union; in 2005 we brought in a new Executive Director who, in the boardroom, would rather advocate the needs of writers than bluster against them. Most importantly: we realized that the strength of the Guild derived from the engagement and imagination of its members.

We realized that our only leverage against the media conglomerates was a credible strike threat; and once on strike, we held together far better and longer than anyone could have anticipated. Additionally: our wildly creative members found ways of framing the issues that cut through the pro-conglomerate bias of the traditional media.

At the end of the day, we didn't get all we wanted, but we got what we needed -- in terms of the contract, and in terms of remembering something that we'd forgotten: that the Writers Guild is not, first and foremost, a building on West Third, but rather a guild of writers.

And so let's set the record straight: all of the our new-found solidarity, all of the spirited engagement of our members, all of the gains of last year's contract -- and especially the Guild's jurisdiction over New Media -- might not have happened without the thought and example of John McLean.