The quote in the above title derives from advice received by
head writer/show creator Jill Soloway (Transparent)
concerning an innovative strategy for running a TV series’ writers’ room, a
strategy, the quote implies, contrary to its opposite, “leading from the
masculine”, a descriptive I never heard of because it does not exist, due to,
in my experience and the experience of every other writer I know, the fact
that, to date, the latter was the only writers’ room strategy there was. Think:
Breathing through your nose, as compared to breathing through your
ears.
There is no
breathing through your ears.
Now, apparently, there is.
(And the world’s ears could not be more excited, following the analogy, if
not literal biology. Where there remains no “breathing through your
ears.”)
Before delineating the nature
of “leading from the feminine”, I will provide a justifying rationale for
why it had never previously been tried, excluding, due to its obviosity, the
fact that the show running positions have been dominated by men, men who became
role models for male (and, on rare occasions, female) successors who
perpetuated the only “room running” procedure they had ever experienced.
(Note: This
post focuses on leadership style, not “Do men write differently from women?”, a
subject to which I have little original to contribute, except to observe that
if this distinction exists, and my experience suggests that it might, there are
a significant number of exceptions, most notably, I casually evaluate, myself,
whose less punchy, more observational approach could not inaccurately be categorized
as leaning at least somewhat in the
direction of the “femy.” More on
that…possibly never.)
Consider this as context:
Most cable series and series produced on Netflix and Amazon, etc, receive orders of six to thirteen episodes per
season. By comparison, a network’s seasonal series order consists
of a minimum of twenty-two episodes, and, not infrequently, more. (When I consulted on According To Jim, the show produced as many as twenty-eight episodes, Jim cranking out as many of them as they could before the children
on the show advanced to ages where their innate adorability was no longer a certainty.)
Also, many, if not all, non-network series operate on a
production schedule which, due to the fewer number of seasonal episodes allows
them to complete all the scripts before they go into production, in contrast to
the network template, where, excepting the four or five scripts written during “pre-production”, they are entirely
written concurrently. (Meaning
simultaneously with production. Sorry,
if you already understood that.)
What’s the difference?
This.
During the production of network TV series, here’s what is
regularly involved in a typical work day:
You develop future episodes, you edit already produced episodes, you
cast the following week’s episode, you “fine tune” the following week’s script
for the upcoming “table reading”, you add the finishing post-production touches
to the episode that is about to be broadcast, and then later in the day, you go
to the stage, to oversee the runthrough and to ascertain the rewrite requirements
of the show currently in production.
Boy, that’s a lot! No
wonder I felt constantly frazzled.
“Frazzled” fits!
In network television, you are continually racing the
clock. (A pressure with which I so
anxiously resonated I refused dogmatically to wear a watch. Who needed a wristal reminder that I was
falling perilously behind schedule?)
Nearing the end of the day – though hardly the work day – the escalating time pressure,
and its inescapable consequence, intensified.
Around five in the afternoon, the writers proceeded down to
the stage for the runthrough, after which there would be an overlay of notes
from both the network and the studio, then there was dinner, and then, at maybe
six-thirty to seven, you would begin the rewrite process, that could last until
“unconscious.”
There was only one way to get through this. Call it “leading from the masculine” involving
the manly-identified process of…
Brute force.
It was like pushing a giant boulder up a mountain. You put your shoulder to the boulder and
using everything you have, you move it doggedly forward, till your task is finally
accomplished , the boulder at the top of the mountain, the night’s rewrite
reaching “Fade Out – The End.”
That’s how you did it.
You manfully muscled your way
through.
By contrast…
According to the article I read about Jill Soloway’s
approach running Transparent,
“For two sessions in
the morning and two or three more in the afternoon, ‘we have 50 minutes of real
contact, like eye-to-eye, heart-to-heart creative contact’ with no computers or
phones allowed. In addition to regular
breaks, ‘there’s a half hour of socializing, so we don’t waste an hour sitting
at the table. I just like to respect my
writers’ time.’”
I do not recall anything close
to that happening when I was working. We
thought twice about going to the bathroom.
There was also none of the following:
“They {meaning the
writing staff} don’t only talk. The also
sing, dance, and improv scenes, all in an effort to get at their truth.”
Nope. None of that happened either.
The question is,
Are the oppositional strategies the consequence of
deliberately “leading from the feminine” or the result of the exquisite luxury
of available time?
I shall respectfully reserve judgment until this
revolutionary method is attempted with a 22-episode order.
RRROAR!!!
3 comments:
Socializing half-hour is a great idea, then you don't waste time at the table avoiding work by talking about the trades, etc. Now, when you sit at the table, everyone knows it's time to WORK. Socializing time is over.
Although SIX FEET UNDER was a terrific show, reading and re-reading Soloway's quotes, it sounds like a "bunch of New Age bull." The only thing that matters is the end result. Whatever works for Soloway is just fine for her and her staff, just as whatever works for you...etc, etc, etc.
I was meaning to ask whether you'd have liked the "feminine" lead version.
I do think the get-the-socializing-out-of-the-way half hour is a rational strategy. I'm less keen on the rest of it - I may be female but I can't stand "touchy-feely". Although again, the 50 minutes with no phones or computers is probably also good for concentration and focus.
wg
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