Directors Tell the Story

by Bethany Rooney

  Because it’s a group endeavor to make a movie or a TV show, there are multiple opinions, and it is a process of soliciting, acknowledging, then accepting/rejecting the input from many sources to get to the finish line. But your job is to lead all those people with their opinions toward the promised land of a project that fulfills your vision. Try to get along, to give respect, to honor a different point of view while being aware that you’re trying to keep everyone on the same path. It’s an overused expression, but the project can be a “win-win” for everyone if you have that attitude.

  You know what your bottom line is: the place where you will stand on your principles, no matter what the cost. Until then, however, many decisions are, by their very nature, compromises.

  The major element that separates a television director from a feature director is this ability to navigate the culture and to interact successfully with multiple cast, crews, producers, studios, and networks. A good freelance director will direct eight episodes a year, on probably at least four different productions. So in addition to being a good shooter, or knowing how to use the camera well, you have to be a good psychologist, acting coach, story editor, and diplomat. You can do all that by having your priorities in order. Be a well-rounded person first and a filmmaker second. You will have a DP and an entire crew behind you to support your knowledge of filmmaking. You have to bring everything else to the table. So learn. Travel. Study. Practice. Understand what it means to be a leader and commit to doing it well. You can do it.

  Insider Info

  Relaxation Ritual

  Recognizing your body’s messages that send out a type of red flare, signaling there’s tension within, is where this ritual begins.

  A clenched jaw, a sharp tone of voice, toes curled up tightly in shoes, picking at a hangnail until it bleeds, biting fingernails or a lower lip, a bellyache, a headache, or inability to sleep are some of the physical symptoms that alert us that we’re experiencing stress.

  A relaxation ritual is something chosen while calm, while there’s time to consider an action that can be taken once realizing that one’s tension level is rising.

  Mike, a film student, places his St. Christopher medallion around his neck every morning before going off to direct one of his projects. Once only worn to protect him when surfing, he uses it now as a source to remind him of the peace he feels when paddling out as the sun rises. As soon as he starts biting the inside of his cheeks when working with his production team, he holds his St. Christopher medallion, remembering the sensation of being in the ocean, which relaxes both his mind and body.

  Martha packs a backpack of ritual objects before heading off to her first day of production. A box of her favorite tea, a small picture frame that holds a photo of her twins, and a Nintendo Wii game that will be made available for the entire cast and crew. When she starts to feel mentally overwhelmed, she sips a cup of her tea, gets some fresh air, thinks about the issues at hand, says the Serenity Prayer, finishes her tea, and faces the challenges at hand.

  Mark uploads his favorite podcasts the night before a shoot, and when he can’t get the shot that’s in his head to match what’s coming out on film, he heads for the bathroom, closes the door, and listens to his favorite sports program, giving himself a mental break and allowing room for a new perspective when he returns to the set.

  Kerry emails her mentor when she’s fallen behind schedule and is facing an anxiety attack. Simply writing out her difficulty uncensored and letting it go brings with it a type of comfort that she’s not alone, and this in and of itself assists in rebuilding her confidence.

  The key here is to select rituals that fit who you are. They are a gift to yourself and—when practiced—bring a calm that restores confidence and faith in your unique talent.

  Robin Bernstein

  Marriage and Family Therapist (MFT)

  * * *

  1. Hornaday, Ann, Los Angeles Times, December 25, 2009, Sec. D, p. 2.

  2. Hornaday, Ann, “A director’s work is never done.” Los Angeles Times, December 25, 2009, Sec. D, p. 2.

  3. “Rudyard Kipling Quotes,” Brainy Quotes, retrieved May 7, 2011, from http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/r/rudyard_kipling_2.html

  4. Marshall, Gary. Wake Me When It’s Funny: How to Break Into Show Business and Stay. New York: Newmarket Press, 1995.

  Chapter 18

  Getting Started

  Every director has a different story about how getting a first job. That’s because there is no stepladder to success—no approved way to follow. Everybody “gets in” in his own way. Even if you go to film school, there is no guarantee of a job when you graduate. You have to find your way in and work your way up. In this chapter, we are going to tell you our stories and also let our colleagues tell you theirs. We’ll wrap it up with some advice on getting started.

  Directing an episode of television is a big responsibility. The producer, who gives you a job, must know that you will deliver both artistically and fiscally. How can producers be certain if you’ve never delivered before? They can’t; so every time a new director gets a shot, it is a leap of faith on the part of the producer. Your job is to earn the trust and respect of that producer (and studio and network who will also “approve you”) so that he wants to take that leap.

  Everybody “gets in” in his own way. Even if you go to film school, there is no guarantee of a job when you graduate. You have to find your way in and work your way up.

  BETHANY’S STORY

  Bruce Paltrow took that first leap with me. He was the executive producer of a CBS show called The White Shadow, and I was his assistant. (I had gotten an interview for the job through a connection from my college.) When Paltrow cocreated St. Elsewhere in 1981, he promoted me to associate producer, which meant that I supervised all of the postproduction. After a couple of years at that, I began to ask him (all right, to beg and plead) to direct. He kept saying, “You’re not ready.” I would answer back, “What do you mean, I’m not ready? I supervise picture editing, and so I know how to visually tell a story. I’ve taken an acting class for five years, so I know how to talk to actors. And I spend every minute I can on the set. What do you mean, I’m not ready?” What he meant was that I was young and stupid. It takes a strong leader—a person of gravitas—to command a set. And I wasn’t ready. But in the fourth season of St. Elsewhere, when I was 28, Paltrow gave me the shot.

  Paltrow was known for giving untried directors the opportunity of a lifetime. He was a generous mentor who liked to provide that hand up. But, as I found out, it often seems harder to get the second job. That’s because the second person to hire you is hiring someone with extremely limited experience, while the first person gets the pride of saying, “I spotted her talent first. I went out on a limb for her, I got her started on her career.” The second person to hire me was Jay Tarses, the showrunner of The Slap Maxwell Show, in 1987. I was a good fit there, and directed eight of the half-hour, single-camera episodes that season. I got a lot of practice, struggled, made mistakes, and learned tremendously—all displayed in front of a national audience. I have always said, “Whenever I win an award of any kind, I have to thank Bruce and Jay first.”

  We’d like to point out that Bethany mentions, “I was a good fit there.” That’s a crucial word. You can be a good director but not a good fit with either the style of the show or the personalities involved. If you have a bad experience on a show and you’re not asked back, it probably does not mean you’re a bad director, but that perhaps it was a bad fit.

  MARY LOU’S STORY

  I began my show business career as an actress. My first job in network television was as an understudy for a teenager on a sitcom that lasted only ten episodes. I got this job because of my height (4'11") and stage experience. At the time, the position was a weekly Screen Actors Guild contract; that position no longer exists. The director of the show, Will Mackenzie, wanted the adult actors to be able to really rehearse when the younger actors were in school; because of child
labor laws that require minors to be schooled on set, this was a good portion of the day. I acted with Martin Mull and Judith-Marie Bergan on a show called Domestic Life while teenager Megan Follows, known for her PBS role of Anne of Green Gables, was learning algebra.

  I transitioned from being an understudy to a coach for young actors and finally to being a director. I did this on the second series where I worked with young talent. It was called Charles in Charge and starred Scott Baio. I was already entrusted by the producer, Al Burton, as well as the director, Phil Ramuno, with delivering a good performance from teenager Nicole Eggert. When I wasn’t performing Eggert’s part (when Eggert was in school) or coaching her (when Eggert was on stage), I was observing what the director was doing. I stayed with director Ramuno when he marked shots every week until I felt comfortable designing my own shots for the show and comparing them to Ramuno’s. I made sure that the producer Al Burton knew I was doing my homework to learn about cameras. Simultaneously, I was directing and producing theatre. Every time I got a good review, I made sure that Burton was aware of the good press I was receiving as a stage director. I called it my “paper assault” because I literally photocopied each and every review I got, highlighted the good things said about me, and handed them out to anybody who might help me get a directing job. Four years into Charles In Charge, I was given the opportunity to direct by Al Burton. I was invited to direct another episode the next season. Years later, after directing more than 100 episodes of sitcoms, I wanted to expand my directing opportunities. And my fairly recent entry into the single-camera world was mentored by many generous directors who allowed me to observe them, but especially by my coauthor and now dear friend, Bethany. The genesis of this book came from our realization that she talked about directing so clearly and so passionately that it was enough to fill a book—and how much fun it would be to write it together!

  We’d like to point out that Mary Lou had to be patient. She worked hard at Charles in Charge for four years until she was given the opportunity to direct. It often happens that way. Producers are wary of just handing over a precious episode of their cash cow to someone who is an unknown in terms of their ability to deliver. And who can blame them? Very often, you just have to stick it out, do your best in the job you are currently doing, remind them often you’d like to direct, and be patient.

  HOW I GOT MY FIRST DIRECTING JOB

  Here are some of our colleagues’ first job stories.

  Jerry Levine

  Life Unexpected, Monk, Everybody Hates Chris, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

  My first film directing assignment came as a result of a one-act play I directed for the stage. The play was a success onstage and had a unique quality to it. It was character-driven and required us to pay great attention to the performances. The play was Big Al by Bryan Goluboff.

  When we realized that we had a unique project on our hands, we decided to invite the Showtime Network to see it, with the hope that they would support us in filming it as a short film. It worked. They saw the potential and produced the film version of the play. A project of this nature requires one to call in every favor you can in order to get the final product completed. We did just that, and God bless all of our friends who supported us in this adventure. Big Al premiered on Showtime and went on to win prizes at Film Festivals and a Cable Ace Award in the Best Actor category for David Packer.

  The result for me was a unique piece of film that I could use as a calling card to demonstrate whatever skill I was beginning to develop as a film director. Eventually, the film found its way into the hands of Michael Pressman, who was directing and producing the TV series Chicago Hope. Michael gave me an opportunity to direct that series. Later, when I realized how much I didn’t know, I asked Michael what he was thinking when he hired me. Why would he give someone with so little film directing experience an opportunity like that? His response was that based on what he saw in the performances in Big Al, he was convinced that I could direct actors and tell a story. Not exactly blind faith, because there was a piece of film he could watch—a film that demonstrated that I was beginning to develop a point of view and a voice as a director.

  It is also important to mention the incredible relationships we build up through the years and to acknowledge in this article all the help we received from friends, agents, managers, and relatives, who made phone calls, made introductions, shared contacts, and offered support.

  However, at the end of the day, it was tenacity and the play that was the thing. Without our ability to self-generate and use all of our resources to push it through and shoot the film, there would have been nothing to show to anyone. So my advice is to get out there with a camera and start shooting.

  Paul Holahan

  Ugly Betty, Burn Notice, Shark

  After directing commercials for a few years, I was desperate to direct something with actual lines of dialog. But there was no clear path for how to get into dramatic television. It seemed like a closed community. The one TV director I knew didn’t take shadows. I knocked on a fair amount of doors, read the trades, wrote ideas, and spent a lot of time not directing.

  Then one day I realized that a guy, a friend I had DPed for (worked as a cameraman for), was now a producer of a comic book–inspired live-action cable television series. What luck! I showed him my commercial reel and he was very impressed, saying, “You’d be perfect for our show. Love to have you. But it’s never going to happen.” He explained that there was no way the studio was going to let him hire a director who hadn’t directed an episode of episodic television. Television’s ultimate catch-22 was revealed to me: in order to direct an episode of TV you need to have first directed an episode of TV. And all I had were a bunch of commercials, so I wasn’t getting on the list. Another brick wall.

  Two months later, on sunny day in Los Angeles, my friend calls from out of the blue and asks, “You got anything going on tomorrow?” I was available. Turns out that his show had shut down suddenly when their star was hospitalized. The directors’ schedules were thrown into confusion. Miraculously, there was an open director slot that had to be filled quickly, and he was going to book me. The studio was busy worrying about their star. And I slipped in unnoticed. But they liked the show and wanted me to do another. And another …

  Lesli Linka Glatter

  Mad Men, True Blood, House, West Wing

  My first job in Hollywood was directing Amazing Stories for Steven Spielberg. How in the world did that happen? I was a modern dance choreographer with a story I was passionate about telling, so I made a short film through the American Film Institute’s Directing Workshop for Women. Early one morning, the phone rang, and it was Spielberg calling me to tell me how much he liked my short film. I thought it was a prank call and hung up on him. Thank goodness, he called back!

  I met with Spielberg several days later and he offered me the extraordinary opportunity to direct an episode of his new anthology series. He also gave two other new directors, Todd Holland and Phil Joanou, their first opportunity to direct. As I was so new to directing, I asked Steven if I could apprentice with him on his episode before I directed my own. Lucky for me, he said yes. Watching Steven work was the best film school anyone could ever have. In addition, I prepped my episode for a month—storyboarding it over and over, doing anything I could to be prepared.

  My first day on my first episode (I ended up directed three Amazing Stories), I had a hundred guys storming a beach in World War II, stunts, explosions, seven cameras, and two eyemo’s. [Author’s note: a type of remote-controlled camera used when it’s too dangerous to have a camera-operator in the location.] It was trial by fire, exhilarating and terrifying, and I never looked back. And everyday since then, I have felt incredibly grateful to be able to be a storyteller.

  Arlene Sanford

  Desperate Housewives, Ally McBeal, Boston Legal, Medium

  After working in daytime soaps for a minute, I wrote, produced, and directed a short film. Because I had a friend who was fri
ends with Jamie Lee Curtis, I was able to call Jamie and ask if she would kindly pretty please agree to play the lead in my thirty-ish-minute film called Welcome Home. I needed only five days of her life and although I could not offer her any payment, I promised it would be fun—at least for her. I was scared to death.

  She said “yes”—a small miracle. When it was finished, because she was in it (along with Richard Masur, Bonnie Bartlett, and William Windom), a number of people were interested in watching it. A friend of a friend (these are valuable people) had begun coproducing a new show called The Days and Nights of Molly Dodd, which was created by Jay Tarses (father of prolific producer and one-time network executive Jamie Tarses). This friend, Roz Doyle, gave Jay my film, and he asked to meet me. I sat down in his office and he asked me if I wanted to direct his show—just like that, did I want to direct his show. (This was years ago, before the director needed to be approved by a slew of studio and network people. The job would not have happened if that were the case, as I knew none of those people.)