by Bob Levy
During the deal-making phase the reps for the various parties negotiate how much the writer is paid to write the pilot script, what his fee is if the project moves forward to pilot production, his credit should the project move forward to pilot and series production (usually Executive Producer, but not always as discussed earlier), his producing fee per episode should the project move forward to series, and how much backend ownership of the series the creator will receive.
The producer’s reps negotiate the terms of the same deal points (minus writing the pilot script) for their client.
In the last chapter we discussed how studios own the shows in perpetuity and earn all the ancillary profits of the shows they produce. While the studio earns all the profits for successful TV series, they typically share a portion of the profits with key creative partners who are defined as “profit participants” and who receive a share of “backend,” the show’s long-term profits after all the studio’s expenses. The profit participants typically include the writer/creator of the series, who might receive anywhere from 10–20% of all profits (or “points” – one “point” equals 1% of profit), the non-writing Executive Producer/s who are present at the creation of the series who might receive anywhere from 5–15 points (or divide that share amongst themselves if there’s more than one), and the director of the pilot (who, as mentioned earlier, usually isn’t a member of the team until later when the pilot script is greenlighted), who might receive 1 or 2 points. Studios typically hang on to a minimum of 65% of ownership of the all profits derived from a show, and their business affairs execs, in consultation with senior management, negotiate the shares of ownership of the remaining 35% amongst the other participants whose roles in the process entitle them to backend participation.
Talent agencies can also receive a share of profit participation. If an agency contributes key packaging elements to a project, it can receive an “agency package,” which we’ll discuss in detail later.
The two corporate entities, the network and studio, also hammer out a detailed deal between themselves. The studio pays the lion’s share of the cost of pilot script development, the fee the writer is paid to write the pilot. The network caps its investment in pilot scripts (like it does with episodic license fees) with what’s known as “network script coverage.” The writer might command up to half-a-million dollars or more to write the pilot, but the network script coverage is limited to $50–75k and the studio pays the remaining share.
Not only are all of these development terms negotiated during the deal-making phase of the process, but also frequently the network and studio actually negotiate the financial relationship between their two companies for the potential series. The network and studio may negotiate the specific license fee the network will pay the studio for episodes of the series should the pilot succeed and be ordered to series.
If the writer and producer have partnered with a studio prior to pitching the show to networks (as in my example), they most likely will have already worked out the terms of their deals directly with the studio before the studio sets network pitch meetings, in which case this network deal-making phase is quicker and easier. If a network buys a pitch from a writer and producer who have not already partnered with a studio, the network will typically “lay off” the project at a studio, usually a sister studio division of the corporate parent (e.g., ABC Studios at ABC network, A&E Studios at Lifetime, etc.), if one exists.
If a studio deal is not in place when a network buys a pilot script, the deal-making phase can take anywhere from several weeks to many, many months. I sold a project to a broadcast network a few years ago that involved a tricky rights situation and the various deals among all the parties took five months to close. If a studio deal is in place before the project is pitched, the deals can usually be wrapped up in a couple of weeks.
For writers and producers this deal-making phase is often maddening. All the creative excitement and momentum of the pitch development process, all the anxiety and nervous energy that went into shopping the pitch to multiple networks and the thrill of making a sale suddenly come to a screeching standstill. No creative work can happen during the deal-making phase. Agents and lawyers specifically tell their writer and producer clients: “Don’t do any work on the project! Don’t send the network or studio any of your work until I have an assurance we’re going to get an advantageous deal from them.” The rep doesn’t want to undermine his leverage by having his client let the buyer know they’re willing to do work before the buyer has committed to a fair deal.
When the deals are finally closed the various reps notify their clients that creative work can resume, and the project can finally move to the next step.
Step 4: The Pilot Story
The first step of a project in active development is to deliver the pilot story in writing to the network. The writer has already told the network development execs what the pilot story is in her pitch. In fact the pilot story is usually the single longest section of a TV pitch. But now that the project is real, now that the network is actually committing real money to the project, the network development execs want to see it again and they want to see it in writing. It’s no longer just experienced professionals talking about an idea for a TV show; now it’s business. Now it’s real.
Remember, what the network is paying for in most cases when they “buy” a pitch is a pilot script. It may lead to years and years of a TV series, but all they’re committing to at this stage, all the network is paying for at this point, is one script, the pilot script, and they want to be able to examine the story of that pilot script in detail and in writing before they allow the writer to move to the next step and begin actually writing the script. It’s much easier to make big changes to a story in outline form than to a story once it’s actually been written as a script.
Each network prefers its own story document format, but most expect the writer to deliver it in outline form. Some networks turn the pilot story step into a two-stage process, requesting a “story area,” a short prose description of the story in one or two pages, before asking the writer to move on to write a full outline. While the pilot story that was described orally in the network pitch meeting was an overview of the general shape of the story that might have included several key moments, the pilot story outline the network wants in the outline phase is the whole thing in detail. The writer typically lists every scene of the pilot, in order, and provides a brief description of the action of each scene. Outlines are usually 7–10 pages for a half-hour comedy and 10–12 pages for a one-hour drama.
Figure 2.1 is the first page of I. Marlene King’s story outline for the Pretty Little Liars pilot. King’s outline was eight pages long and listed all 45 scenes of the pilot.
FIGURE 2.1 Pretty Little Liars pilot story outline by I. Marlene King, page 1, March 2009. Reproduced with permission from Warner Bros. Television. All rights reserved.
The writer writes a draft of her pilot story outline and sends it first to her producer who reads it, then calls or emails the writer with notes. The writer then rewrites to address her producer’s notes. She might do two or three rewrites as she and the producer go back and forth with drafts and notes until both are satisfied that the story is in strong shape, at which point the producer delivers the pilot story document (typically via email) to the studio development executives. The studio execs read the pilot story, then call the writer and producer and deliver their notes. The writer does two or three rewrites until the studio development execs are confident the story is in strong shape, then the studio execs email the story document on to the network development execs. Now it’s the network’s turn to weigh in. The network execs have their own creative thoughts on how to make the story clearer and stronger, and they set a call with the writer, producer and studio development execs to deliver their notes. The writer does two or three more rewrites in response to two or three rounds of network story notes until the network execs are satisfied and offer final approval of the pilot story. The networ
k execs then “send the writer to draft,” officially commencing the writer to move forward and begin writing the pilot script.
In other words, the writer writes eight, ten or twelve drafts of the pilot story and she hasn’t even begun writing the script yet! The cycle I just described: A writer creates something, a producer notes it, the writer revises, the studio notes it, the writer revises, the network notes it and the writer revises … will be repeated throughout the pilot development process over and over, and then – in success – every story, every script and every rough cut of every episode of the series will repeat this dynamic for the rest of the show’s existence.
Television is a team sport. If you’re a writer who is not open to input, not comfortable with compromise and not willing to consider and incorporate the ideas of others, my suggestion is to go be a poet. Go be a novelist. Television writers have to be willing to be team players and find ways to respect the creative input of many layers of producers and executive colleagues. If a show becomes very successful or if a writer has a proven track record of writing great and successful shows, the input from all the various partners decreases. But in TV even the best and most successful writers need to be open to the thoughts of their powerful partners and corporate masters.
There’s an old expression, “He who pays the piper calls the tune.” The screenwriter is the piper, and the network and studio are the ones paying him to play. They get to call the tune. The heart of development beats to this fundamental, age-old dynamic.
Every layer of input – the producer, the studio development execs, the network development execs – has the project’s best interest at heart, and works hard to make a positive contribution to improve the material. Susan Rovner, the Executive Vice President of Development at Warner Bros. Television, says, “Being a great development executive is being the first audience. You’re the first person to look at that material, and you should really look at it like an audience: Does this make sense, do I care, am I invested?”3
I used the term “approval” when I referenced the moment network development executives sign off on the last rewrite of a pilot story and instruct the writer to begin writing the actual script. The network execs literally have legal, contractual approval of this and every major step of the process. Because they’re paying and because their business affairs execs sweated the details of formal contracts that spell out creative approvals along with who gets paid what and when, the network and studio development execs have contractual approval of both the pilot story and the pilot script. The studio won’t pass along to the network anything it doesn’t believe in (pilot story outlines, pilot scripts, pilot rough cuts). The studio will note them and demand fixes until they’re happy with them before the network ever sees them and has the opportunity to approve them. They also have formal, contractual approval of the director chosen to direct the pilot (if the script is greenlighted) and approval of all actors cast as series regulars.
While the many parties of the process – the writer, the producer and the various development execs – all know the network and studio have contractual approvals, executives rarely speak in those terms. The culture of TV development, the culture of the TV industry in general, tends to be warm, friendly, supportive and collegial. Network development executives never say, “I have legal approval, and I now choose to deem the pilot story satisfactory to my expectations. I now officially approve this story and authorize you to move on to the next phase of the process.” Everyone in the process knows they have that power, but it’s considered uncool for execs to throw their contractual weight around. Instead, the network development execs typically express their approvals in a friendly, positive, even cheerleading way:
Your latest story rewrite is awesome, and we’re thrilled with all your great work, thank you. We can’t wait to see what you do with the pilot script, so please let us know if you have any questions as you dive into it, but we’re super-excited to read it when you’re ready!
Everyone knows that this means, “Your pilot story is now approved, and you are officially commenced to script.”
The goal of a pilot story outline, like any story outline, is to offer the reader a clear view of the shape of the story – the beginning, middle and end of the story – to put the characters into action, to hint at the tone of the project via both the writer’s voice and snippets of dialogue that punctuate the descriptions of scenes, and, most importantly, to create an emotional drive through the story, a sense of urgency or swelling feelings in a drama or a humorous or wry delight in a comedy. The outline should pull readers in and make them care about what happens to the characters. The work is the work – in this case the work of illustrating the scenes of the story – but every step of the pilot process is also a sales step, another chance to sell the network executives on why the project is special and, in the long run, a winner for their company.
Step 5: Pilot Script
Once her story is approved, the writer gets to work writing the pilot script. A one-hour drama pilot script is usually 60 pages or slightly fewer, a single-camera half-hour comedy pilot script is usually in the mid-30s and a multi-camera half-hour pilot script is in the upper-40s. Typically the network expects to see a pilot script within eight–ten weeks of sending the writer to draft. Which means the producer expects to see a draft within five–six weeks so he and the studio have time to give the writer feedback and turn around rewrites.
The writer writes a draft of the pilot script, the producer reads and notes, the writer does rewrites, the studio reads and notes, the writer does rewrites, then the network development execs read and note, and the writer does more rewrites. As with the pilot story, the writer typically writes six, eight, ten, twelve drafts of the pilot script to please her several layers of partners. Or more drafts than that.
As a producer, the first time I read the first draft of the Pretty Little Liars pilot script I knew we had something special. When creator Marlene King’s script described the climax of one of its six stories (yes, the Pretty Little Liars pilot had six distinct stories) where the long-separated friendship of the four lead characters was reunited at (spoiler alert) the funeral of their fifth best friend, I literally got chills. I knew if the development execs and ultimately the audience had the same kind of reaction, I was looking at the foundation of a hit show.
When the network development execs are happy or their script development clock has run out (or both), the network execs hand the pilot script, along with all other pilot scripts their department has developed that season, up to their boss, the president of the network.
Step 6: The Network President Reads the Pilot Scripts
Like clockwork every year at the broadcast networks, and on a rolling basis at cable and streaming companies, the network president reads all the finished pilot scripts and decides their fate. The network president either passes on a pilot script, in which case it’s dead, or greenlights it to pilot production. The network president is the player in this process who has pilot greenlight power.
If the president is inclined to “pick up” the pilot to production (i.e., to greenlight it, meaning the network commits to paying millions of dollars of a pre-negotiated pilot episode license fee to cover most of the cost of production for the purpose of considering ordering it to series), inevitably she has creative notes like every other exec in the process. (Many network presidents come up through the ranks of development executives and are experienced at developing and noting pilot scripts.) While the writer can deflect some of the network and studio development execs’ notes, the writer knows he pretty much has to do the president’s notes. He’s come this far and the network president holds the brass ring of a pilot greenlight. Chances are he’s so creatively drained and emotionally exhausted from writing multiple drafts of story and script that he’ll pretty much do whatever the president asks.
If a network president passes on a pilot script, the team that worked so hard to develop it might find failure hard to accept. The studio executi
ves, the writer’s agents and the producer might try to strategize whether there’s another network they can take the finished script to that might consider ordering it to production. Shopping the finished script to competing networks is occasionally tried but rarely successful, and there are several reasons why. First, there’s probably a good creative reason why the first network passed. While the writer and producer may be proud of their work, the script most likely failed to make the cut because it wasn’t good enough. Second, networks that didn’t buy the project initially and didn’t spend months developing it tend to look at the development of their competition with skepticism. They tend not to feel the same affection for the project as the people who worked so hard to birth it. Once in a great while this strategy works and a “dead” pilot script gets ordered by another network. The Breaking Bad pilot script was developed by FX and passed on. The project’s studio, Sony Pictures Television, took the script to AMC, which loved it, bought the pilot script and ordered it to production. The rest, as they say, is history. But that’s a very rare success story at this stage of the game.
Step 7: Pilot Pre-Production (“Prep”)
Congratulations, your pilot’s been ordered to production, now get to work!
The writer and producer take a moment to celebrate their success and then jump into pilot prep. While there may be some final polish work to do on the script, the writer’s job as writer is essentially over, and he switches into producer mode. The writer typically transitions into pilot showrunner, the lead Executive Producer and visionary of the pilot production. The writer/showrunner works along with the non-writing EP to prep, shoot and post the pilot. For that reason we’ll refer to the writer/creator as one of the “producers” throughout the rest of this description of the pilot process.