Life Is Just A Series Of Facebook Events, But Your Screenplay Can't be.

"Remember the time you drove all night
Just to meet me in the morning
And I thought it was strange you said everything changed
You felt as if you'd just woke up"
-Bright Eyes.

Life is basically just a bunch of appointments and Facebook events. You leave the house at 7am, you go to work. You have a 39 minute lunch break, you go to the doctors, then you go and meet your friend for a quick drink which ends sooner than it should because you need to be home to watch that thing on TV, then you go to bed because you have to be up at 7am.

When we write in this manner - it really kills our screenplays. Often when you're writing, you dream ahead in obvious, logical ways. For example, your characters are sitting in their apartment, and you need to get to the office scene. So after the INT. HOME scene, you have the EXT. HOME scene, followed by the INT./EXT. CAR scene, followed by the INT. OFFICE scene. It's logical. It's how life is. It's also very boring.

If you find yourself writing in this logical way, it's time to close the laptop and dream a bit further. Unless your story is about the mundanity of life, then it's important, I feel, to go in a different direction.

Don't write about the time you met a friend to go see a movie, don't write about two guys walking into a meeting, don't write about two stoners sitting playing Xbox. That might be a part of your life - but it's not the part of your life that is interesting.

Write about the time you showed a girl a part of her neighborhood she's never seen before. Write about the time you turned up at your friend's house at 4am to deliver a birthday cake, write about the time your girlfriend accidentally dropped a kitchen knife on your foot (okay, maybe that wasn't an accident), write about the time you stayed up all night singing songs with strangers, write about the time you stole something, ran from something, changed something.

Now, what is it which makes a scene interesting? If you see a man coming through a doorway, it means nothing. If you see him coming through a window - that is at once interesting.
-Billy Wilder.

If you have a scene where two friends are meeting by a parked car, you may be tempted to write this scene.

EXT. CAR
Katharine sees Will, standing by the car.

KATHARINE
Hey.

WILL
Hey.

KATHARINE
You ready to go?

WILL
Sure. If the car is working.

But by taking an extra nine seconds to think about the scene-- you can do it in a more original, and interesting way.

EXT. CAR
Katharine arrives. Will is nowhere to be scene.

WILL (O.S.)
I'm here.

Katharine looks around.

KATHARINE
Will?

WILL
I'm under the car.

KATHARINE
Why?

WILL
Trying to fix it.

KATHARINE
You don't know anything about cars.

WILL
I just snapped something.

Katharine looks around, panicked.

KATHARINE
Hold on, Will, this isn't even your car!

Or something else:

EXT. STREET - DAY
Katharine storms into view and throws her hands up in the air.

KATHARINE
Where is the car?

WILL
I thought we were going by bicycle?

KATHARINE
No.

WILL
Oh.

KATHARINE
You don't even have a bicycle.

WILL
I thought you would bring them.

Life is mostly boring. We meet our friends for coffee, we talk about our struggles, and then get home safely in time to watch our favorite TV shows. This is life. BAD writers write about this; lots of hispter people sitting around coffee houses talking. You know you're having a bad day when these are the scenes you are writing.

Instead, have the characters sitting on trees, making fires in the forest, making fires on 5th Avenue, have them dancing in offices, have them doing paperwork during dance class; do something different. It can still be realistic. Realism in film isn't about having characters who are home for dinner at 6pm. It's about having characters eat their dinner at 8am in the morning and having the audience believe that they would.

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Creatively Bankrupt.

I feel a really strong urge to write a blog post tonight, but have nothing to say. It's strange, feeling compelled to create something despite having absolutely nothing of interest to say.

This must be what it's like to be a Hollywood film producer.

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Thinking & Dreaming: In Search Of Me At 13.

There is a channel changing kind of process that happens in the mind. It's what happens when you're trying to get to sleep, and you're thinking about that hot girl who works in the shop near where you live, when suddenly-- without realising it, you start thinking about a dancing elephant who goes by the name of Dave, who keeps yelling "I want more turkey!". You snap out of it. You laugh to yourself about the fact you were just thinking about an elephant called Dave who demands more turkey.

The thing is, the place where you found the elephant --- that's the place where all your greatest ideas are. It's just so hard to get there.

When you open up FinalDraft and stare at the clean white page; you have a very specific job. To write stuff. So you start doing a very purposeful, conscious thing, you ask yourself; who are the character's? What are they doing? Why are they doing it? How will they do it? What is stopping them doing it? If you're lucky, you may at some point hit a button on the keyboard. But more often, you won't.

I love making my way home from the local train station-- knowing I have a fifteen minute walk with just me and the music in my ears. It allows me to dream and drift in ways I am not totally controlling. It is inevitable that during this process; it happens -- the magic genie presents, out of nowhere, a perfectly conceived idea for a film about a baseball team who tragically die in a train crash only to be reincarnated as expert sandwich makers. The idea, at this point, is at its most golden.

Getting back home and in front of the page; it's difficult to hold onto the spirit of that idea. And it's because you kind of clock-in as a writer, and the dreamer gets left behind.

The interesting thing about the moment when a good idea first gets delivered in a small envelope to the little imagination dump in your brain-- is that it is completely clear of any kind of critical voice. I think we've all had this moment-- the moment where you're laughing hysterically with a friend at 2am because you're certain that the incident where you fell over an ice cream cone and landed on a small lady called Mrs. Fudgebaker would make for a perfect movie. The idea is SO golden at this point of time.

If only we could stay there! Unfortunately, the minute you get into the idea; a little ugly man appears in your head saying "Pathetic! You're useless! Your ideas suck! You're not relevant! No-one will buy it! No-one will understand it! You're not a writer! You're not worthy! No wonder she dumped you! You are not allowed dinner tonight! Forget it! Give up!" And then you write nothing.

Your favorite movie is your favorite movie because it's your favorite movie. It is better than the movie that you just thought up - by virtue of the fact that it actually exists. Someone dared to make it. Before that, someone dared to write it. And as you count up the times you chickened out of writing a film, as you count up all the scattered 3-pages of notes that pop up in random corners of your home --- the realization dawns; the ugly voice in your head telling you that you suck is COMPLETELY RIGHT; up until the point you ignore him, or at least send him out for groceries and get on with writing. At some point, before the day you die; you may as well just at least attempt to write what is truly in your heart, or at least go in search of it. Because only then can you, or a producer, or anyone, do anything with it.

To do that, you need to access the dreaming part of yourself. The part that gets excited. The part of yourself that abandoned normal life, aged 13, and instead opted to watch films again and again and again. Where can you find this part of yourself? I don't know. I can only talk for myself. When I was younger; I loved making mix tapes for people, I loved getting lost in music, I loved watching all of Tom Hanks' films again and again and again. I loved watching really crappy movies on TV at 2am.

BUT WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME I DID THOSE THINGS AND DID THEM CONSISTENTLY? Do I do them enough -- or am I too caught up in trying to succeed? Trying to make a living? Trying to pay the bills? Trying to impress people around me? Trying to be what people expect of me? ------ What happens when I focus on them things?

When I worry about what people expect, or what script readers want, or what I need to do to succeed--- that is when Mr. Ugly pops up in my head and tells me my writing and life is a train wreck. But he never did that back when I used to excitedly discover dozens of amazing songs every night, or when I would go to the front porch and pick up a shiny new VHS copy of the Tom Hanks flop 'The Money Pit'.

There's a boxing fight taking place. In the red corner, are all my passions and joys; all the things that make this stuff amazing. In the blue corner, are all the pressures and assumptions and all the things that make this shit HARD. And the blue corner has been ruthlessly smashing the red side to pieces.

It's time to wake up. It's time to remember where I came from, remember how it felt; give myself an Al Pacino pep talk; and get on with business. I could be wrong, and I hate to assume - but my inclination, is that some of you need to do the same.

Self-criticism only tends to come around when the stakes are high. The voice in the mirror is more likely to tell you that you look pathetic before a date than before making a piece of toast. The point is - every time you go to write, you have your trusted friend to smash you to pieces. Find ways to alleviate the pressure. I don't know how. But the more you return to the original joy that inspired you back when you were 13, the more you will be able to find and nurture original and personal ideas -- and put them down on the page.

Am I in tune
Yea can't hear much
But the melody coming from you
Baby please don't rush
Keep the tempo slow and you
Let me hear the words you say
Let's go and get tangled in chains of golden days
-The Damnwells

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Where Did That Idea Come From? And Why Today?

Ideas are strange. You can be sitting around for four months desperately trying to force something out, and nothing happens. And then on a random Tuesday morning you have an idea about a German Politician who is mistaken for a waste disposal expert; and you realize it's GENIUS. You begin writing immediately.

Why does it happen on a random Tuesday? And why does it happen when you were preparing to spend the day watching 'Curb Your Enthusiasm'? There are many reasons where the source of ideas are obvious. Mainly, if you are someone who is social, or meets new people a lot, or goes to interesting places. But if you're me, it's more likely you'll spend four days sitting at home eating cereal. In which case, naturally - creative ideas are hard to come by. But why, 3.2 days into 4 days of nothingness do you suddenly, without explanation, get the sudden idea for a thriller-mystery about the kidnapping of the entire staff of the Coca Cola Company.

I am beginning to find the fact I have ideas more interesting than the ideas themselves. I sit there thinking 'wow, all I was doing was buying books on eBay and talking to Natalie on Facebook when suddenly I got an idea about an environmental activist who gets killed by an angry bunch of wild animals.' Why now? How did that happen?

It's very strange. The other morning, after an extended period of no-interesting-writing-happening-at-all, I wrote a short 16 page script in about forty minutes. And it's unlike anything I've written before (although it uses the same 26 alphabet letters). Where it came from, I have no idea.

So; where do these ideas come from? If we find out, can we go there more often? Also, if my mind knows instantly whether an idea is great or terrible, then why do I spend so long, so often, trying to work on the really bad ones?

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JOSHUA MALINA Interview.

Joshua Malina is most known for his roles in THE WEST WING and SPORTSNIGHT. If you've never seen those; you'll almost certainly know him from his extensive television work. If not, don't worry-- you're in for a treat. Joshua Malina is, without doubt, one of the most underrated actors in the industry today. And as Malina hopes himself, as we find out in this interview - I am sure that we are going to see a lot more of his genius as a comedic actor and a talented writer in the very near future. If you want to know what it was like when Aaron Sorkin left The West Wing, or you want to know what it's like being a regular on a TV show or even if you want to know what it's like having Clint Eastwood save your acting career -- then read on. Joshua gives us a fascinating and personal insight into the life of a working actor.


KID: Do you remember when you first wanted to be an actor?

JOSHUA MALINA: Very early on in life my greatest ambition was to be a rabbi and a Good Humor man, but after that brief phase it was always "actor" -- probably from the time I was 8 years old or so. As a kid I was really into theater. I grew up in the suburbs of New York. My Dad's best friend was a major Broadway producer, and my dad was involved in a few productions. My mom was a musical theatre star herself in college. So I was always around it. I saw lots of shows in NY. I did camp and school plays, community theater, after-school groups, all that. It was what I liked doing more than anything else. And I always felt like that's what I was -- an actor -- so deciding to pursue it as a career was not a tough decision for me. I was spared the angst that a lot of people experience when deciding to go for it. I had an innate confidence that one way or another, I'd make it as a professional actor.

You began on the stage -- did you always want to do screen work?

I definitely always thought about doing T.V. and movies. I grew up loving great comic film actors: Groucho Marx, Gene Wilder, Chaplin, Walter Matthau, Lucille Ball, Gleason, Art Carney, people like that. I always thought I'd eventually work in front of a camera too. Now I sometimes look at my career and wish I had done more on stage before I sort of became a "T.V. actor." After doing so much theater as an amateur, I really haven't done all that much as a professional. After graduating from college in 1988, I became close friends with Aaron Sorkin, and he cast me in A FEW GOOD MEN, which opened on Broadway in November of 1989. That was literally a dream come true for me. I had fantasized as a kid about being on Broadway, so AFGM was a quest fulfilled and a series of experiences that I'll always treasure. Between the NY production and the national tour, I believe I logged about 750 performances of the show, playing a variety of roles along he way. There's no better substitute training-wise for an actor than a long run in a good play. When I moved to LA in 1992 I did a lot of plays in small theaters, but it wasn't long before my focus became T.V. and film.

Looking at how you started out in film, 'A Few Good Men,' 'In The Line Of Fire,' and 'Malice' - that's a pretty great way to start a career. You were working with some big actors - was it difficult?

Actually, working with actors like Nicholson and Eastwood was not difficult at all. It never struck me as intimidating; I just saw it as an opportunity to watch how they worked. And they couldn't have been nicer. My role in AFGM was teeny-tiny, but Jack was kind and complimentary. And I'm pretty sure Eastwood saved my job for me on IN THE LINE OF FIRE. I had one scene in which I drop him off at LAX. I pull up to the terminal, stop, he gets out, and we have a brief conversation before he walks off. Well, I had never driven a car onscreen before, and my head was spinning with all the information: Start here, drive there, land with your front wheels on the two sandbags, don't look to the left, etc., etc. Add to that the fact that Clint Eastwood was sitting in my passenger seat, and… on the first take I drove about 2 miles an hour, hit my spot, and we played the scene. The director -- Wolfgang Petersen -- yells "Cut," walks over and kindly says in his German-inflected English: "Yeah -- that was a little…wimpy. A little wimpy. Remember, you're a secret service agent. You're tough. You could probably drive a little bit faster." Okay. Take two -- I barrel-ass into frame and jam on the breaks as I hit my sandbags. In my peripheral vision I see Eastwood kind of planing back and forth as he absorbs the force of my short-stop. I immediately hear "Cut!" and someone runs over -- not the director, an AD maybe -- and starts laying in to me: "What are you, nuts?! That's Clint Eastwood you're driving! The star of the movie! You trying to kill him?!" Before I can formulate a response, Eastwood gets out, slams the door, and tells this guy "The director of the film just called this man a 'wimp.'" Of course he's gonna get in there and drive like that. That's what he was told do." How great is that? Clint Eastwood -- my hero. Classic.

I really liked your role as Tim Messick in 'From The Earth To The Moon.' Is it difficult coming into a project where you only have one or two small scenes to do? There must be a different kind of pressure to when you're a regular?

Absolutely. Counter-intuitively, having a smaller part can be more nerve-wracking than a big, meaty one. Early on, I had some roles that were just a line or two. You can really screw yourself up, obsessively running a two-line bit in your head. "From the Earth to the Moon" wasn't really a tiny role, it was basically one nice scene where I'm being interviewed about my part in the space program. I have a good monologue, filled with quite a bit of technical mumbo-jumbo. I count this as one of my strengths as an actor -- the confident recitation of shit I don't understand. When it was time to run the scene for the first time, I walked around the room, figuring out the blocking and said my bit. I finished and the director, Lili Zanuck, says -- in front of the whole crew -- "That sounded like you were just trying to say the words in the right order." Incredibly embarrassing! I had the presence of mind to tell her that that's exactly what I was trying to do, as it was the first time I had ever run a complex scene. The shooting proceeded to go fine, but for me it was an object lesson in bad directing. There's no reason to humiliate or set your actors on edge. To get the best final product you want to create a relaxed, comfortable place for your actors to inhabit. On a related note, Zanuck has gone on to direct only another three episodes of T.V. since 1998, so there you go…

How did 'Sports Night' come about, was the role written for you?

"Sports Night" was Aaron Sorkin's first T.V. pilot and he let me read it early on. I loved it and really wanted to play the role of "Dan Rydell." Josh Charles was ultimately so good as Dan, and most parts I've played are so different from him, that some people can't imagine I was up for the role. In truth, it's my kind of character and I did come close to getting it. I was at Hollywood Park on a poker binge as I waited to hear the news. Aaron called me and told me it wasn't going to happen. I was pretty crushed, but I'm good at bouncing back. I was somewhere in the bouncing back process a couple weeks later when Aaron called and said "Hey, do you remember the role of 'Jeremy?'" In the original script, Jeremy was much younger and had a more peripheral role. Aaron started to pitch me on the idea of his tailoring it to me. I interrupted him and said "Aaron, if you're asking me whether I'm interested, of course! I'll play anything you got for me." Aaron re-wrote the role and I went in to read for Jamie Tarses and Stu Bloomberg at ABC. Felicity Huffman and Sabrina Lloyd had already been cast and in a gesture of kindness I still appreciate, came in to read with me. It was Jeremy's interview scene from the pilot. Twenty years into my career, I am still very poor at auditioning, but this was an easy one. It was an incredibly well-written, brilliantly funny scene that had been created for me. If I couldn't nail this one, I had no excuse. I felt like the audition went great. I walked out into the hall, and a couple minutes later Aaron came charging out, picked me up and held me aloft. I said "Either you're saying I got the job, or you suck at delivering bad news."

What are the challenges of being a regular on a show?

I wish I could tell you it's a big challenge, but it's not. Being a regular on a T.V. series is a very cushy gig: learn the lines, hit your marks, collect big check. Not much to it. Sure, the days can be very long on an hour drama, but that's why they call it "work." I hate whiney actors who piss and moan about how difficult their jobs are. Ditch digging is hard. Television acting is a cakewalk.

I think one of your unique qualities is having a certain humor and charisma about you, and that's something that comes from you, not the character on the page. Is this something you're aware of?

That's an extremely kind thing to say. I appreciate it. I've been fortunate, though, that the characters I've played longest -- "Jeremy" on SPORTS NIGHT and "Will" on THE WEST WING -- were inherently funny on the page. I think there's always a through-line of humor to Aaron's writing. Maybe as a result of that, I am always looking for the comic aspect to whatever role I'm playing.

And whilst I certainly meant that last question as a compliment, I wonder - can it be a limitation? Could you play the role of a President, or a Mafia boss?

I do think I can play a greater variety of roles than I have thus far -- not sure whether President and Mafia boss are among them, though "consigliere" I can do. Typecasting is a real thing, for sure. If you are seen doing one type of role then Hollywood is probably going to look to you for more of that. It cuts both ways too. I'm sure I am on Smarty-Jew-nerd lists, and that helps me get work. But most of us get into acting because we're drawn to the idea of playing an array of characters, and I'm a bit disappointed that I haven't been able to broaden the range of roles I'm offered. I thought I'd come out to LA and book a sitcom, or play the crazy supporting comic guy in films. Hasn't happened. Maybe as I slide further into my 40's, I'll finally become the comic character actor I've always imagined myself to be.

It was great to see you back with Aaron Sorkin in 'The West Wing.' For me, it's the greatest TV show of all time. You came along at an interesting time, only a season before your friend Sorkin, and Tommy Schlamme were to leave the show - what effect did this have on the cast?

It had a big effect on the cast, for sure. It caught everyone by surprise -- bit of a bombshell. I remember the cast being really rocked. There was a big meeting with Tommy and Aaron. There were a lot of tears, and some protestations along the lines of "If you guys go, I don't want to do the show anymore!" On a personal and creative level, I was extremely disappointed to hear they were leaving, but on a career level I was thinking "Easy now, people. I just got here. Let's not do anything rash…" So sure, Tommy is one of the great Producer/Directors out there, and for my money, no one writes like Aaron. But I give credit to John Wells and the writing staff for keeping TWW going as a really great, quality show for the remainder of its run.

There was a definite shift in the writing, and I noticed that a lot in your character. Did it seem different to you?

Yes, character and plot-wise, Will Bailey underwent a real shift. He went off to run the campaign of V.P. "Bingo" Bob Russell -- a move that caused many of The West Wing's hardcore fans to vilify the character. It's funny, I still deal with fans' anger towards Will! It amuses me. Shortly after John Wells took over, he asked me to come talk to him. He explained that he felt that Will's story had played out a bit, and that as an alternative to becoming repetitive, or to writing the character out, they had come up with the "Bingo" Bob scenario. I said "sounds good to me" and left, thankful that John had figured out a way to keep me involved with the show. I come from the school of acting in which you pick up the script, learn your lines, and show up prepared. I don't really think it's my job to weigh in on storylines. And honestly, I don't care much whether my character is good or noble or heroic or a douchebag. My character is the guy who says the things the writers have him say. It's that simple. So, would I have written the same story for Will? Maybe not. Would Aaron Sorkin have written it the same way? Definitely not. But I think the writers continued to write great stuff for me, and that they wrote Will's arc in a plausible way.

Focusing on a few more questions about the life of an actor -- how do you find most of your work?

As I've mentioned earlier, I am -- sadly -- not the King of Auditioning. I'm not sure what it is. I just find the process mortifying. I have a real fear of overacting, and as a result I think I almost always underplay things at auditions. Aspiring actors out there, heed my call: "Underplaying does not get you the job! Make a strong choice and go for it!" Twenty years in, I still need to process this rule myself. In any event, I do occasionally book things in the room, but most of my jobs come in the form of offers from people who know my work already.

Acting is so tough to get in to - what is the difference between someone who makes it and someone who doesn't? Is it luck, or is there a character trait that makes the difference do you think?

Sad fact: There is a huge amount of luck involved. There just is. Subtract my relationship with Aaron Sorkin and I don't know whether I'd be a professional actor. That said, I do believe there are many other factors that contribute. One really important character trait is confidence. So many actors lack it, but if you don't think you're good, why would you expect someone else to be taken with you? You have to believe in your own talent, and let that belief carry you through the avalanche of rejection that comes with pursuing a career in this field.

What is the difference between working on television and film?

I have worked far more in the former, so I'm no expert on the subject. But as far as the work goes, I find them very similar. Acting on camera is acting on camera. It's the trappings that are different. Film work carries a certain attendant glitz with the fancy locations, the premieres, and so on. But television work strikes me as a much better and more stable job for a husband and daddy, which is what I am first and foremost.

What are you currently working on?

I thought you'd never ask! I am extremely excited to be in post-production on a web series for SONY's Crackle.com website. It's called BACKWASH, and I wrote and produced it, and I star in it with Michael Ian Black, Michael Panes, Noah Emmerich, Lindsey Kraft, and Joe Lo Truglio. It also features supporting work from a host of amazing people (most of them old friends): Jon Hamm, Sarah Silverman, Hank Azaria, John Cho, Steven Weber, Jamie-Lynn Sigler, Allison Janney, Dulé Hill, and many more. It's directed by Danny Leiner ("Dude, Where's My Car, "Harold & Kumar"), who is fantastic. It's a 13-part comedy about three losers who inadvertently rob a bank. It's kind of an old-school, slapstick romp. I had an absolute blast making it. It should start airing early this summer. Rather than go on about it here, let me plug my blog. If anyone is interested, they can follow the project here: http://blog.crackle.com/tag/backwash-blog/. I'm also posting a lot of info on Twitter, so please follow if you like: "@JoshMalina."

What else would you like to achieve with your career?

I do want to keep writing, creating material for myself and others. I sold a sitcom pilot to CBS this past season that I wrote with a friend. It didn't ultimately get made, but I'd like to continue pursuing that goal. As I mentioned, I'd really like to establish myself more firmly as a comic actor. I want to find (or create) that balls-out comic role that has thus far eluded me.

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