CHAPTER 3: Again my apologies that we haven’t arrived in London yet, but this last
little tale about my early efforts to break into writing leads up to my
departure from Australian shores. So there I was, stuck with a script
called The Steel Prince and no idea what to do with it. There was
certainly no way I could get Film Victoria interested in it. I had met
with someone at their offices a few years earlier after I sent them the
first script I had ever written: a horror story called “The Inheritance”
which was a cross between Dirty Harry and The Exorcist; after reading
it, the woman I met with at FilmVic told me “you certainly know how to
structure a screenplay” but went on to assure me that they did not make
films like that in Australia so I would be better off going to
Hollywood. Hah! I was around eighteen-years-old at the time so Hollywood
might as well have been Mars as far as I was concerned. The upshot was
though, that if they hadn’t wanted to make a movie like The Inheritance,
then they certainly weren’t going to make The Steel Prince. But I had
not a clue on how I’d ever get a script to someone in Hollywood so it
would be gathering some dust. Around this time (I guess it was about a
year before my eventual conversation with David Tomblin and my departure
for London) I was reading a book on the making of “Return of the Jedi”
and found some things that the film’s director, Richard Marquand, had to
say very encouraging. One thing in particular was how his agent
mentioned George Lucas was looking for someone to direct Jedi and
suggested they throw Marquand’s name into the mix. Marquand scoffed at
the idea and thought there was no way Lucas would even consider a
small-time English director who had done no big movies. His agent
insisted, however, and it turned out that Lucas was a fan of one of
Marquand’s earlier films “Eye of the Needle” and agreed to meet him.
Long story short, he got the job and wound up directing Jedi. That story
made me think he might just be able to relate to my hopelessness of
ever getting a script to a Hollywood agent and therefore he might be
willing to help me. Again, I turned to my letter writing skills. I found
out that he was editing a movie in France and sent the letter to him
there, telling him about myself and The Steel Prince. Lo and behold I
got a letter back from him telling me he would be happy to read my
script. I sent it to the cutting room he was working in in Paris, and
over the next several months, I exchanged letters with Richard Marquand
(I still have them in my files at home in Melbourne) as he helped me
develop The Steel Prince through two more drafts. After that he sent it
to his agent at Creative Artists Agency (who I think at the time was
Rosalie Swedlin) to see if he could help me get some representation.
Nothing ever materialized from that but Marquand was a true gentleman
for all his help and tolerance. Next chapter: London (for real this
time) and a further adventure with Richard Marquand).
Buy Robert Shaw's books on Amazon: http://amzn.to/Tlf0F7
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
It's Story Time.... so far
CHAPTER 2: Okay, I know Chapter 2 was supposed to be London, and I apologize for
the fake out, but I recall some stuff that means we stay in Melbourne
for a bit longer. It pertains to my attempts to become a successful
writer, which (despite having embarked on a long relationship with doing
odd jobs, photocopying and filing after I left home to chase my dreams)
was one of the two reasons I wanted a career in the film industry to
begin with (the other being to direct). As a kid growing up in
Australia, I never had any interest whatsoever in seeing any Australian
films. To me, they were all just boring costume dramas with pretentious
aspirations to greatness. I know the Aussie film industry has turned out
some gems, but they still seem to make mostly crap with pretentious
aspirations to greatness. It’s sad. Australia has great actors and
directors who, once the opportunity arises, get their asses to Hollywood
as fast as they can so they can become superstars. But the movie
business in Australia (at least for making Australian films) has no real
financing to speak of and so filmmakers have to rely on organizations
such as Film Victoria, who from what I’ve read lately, spend more money
wining and dining their friends and fat cat politicians than they give
to any filmmakers. So it’s no wonder the Aussie film biz doesn’t turn
out an original Australian superhero movie or real big action/adventure.
So anyway, when Mad Max came out I naturally thought oh here’s another
crap Aussie movie – and with a really dumb title no less. So I didn’t
see it when it first came out. I also had no interest in seeing Mad Max 2
for the same reasons, but my sisters kept telling me “no, it’s nothing
like what you expect from an Aussie movie” so I relented and went to see
it. And I was blown away. It was amazing and at first I couldn’t quite
believe it had been made by Aussies. In fact I was so blown away that I
immediately sat down and wrote a 5 page synopsis for Mad Max 3 called
“The Steel Prince”. Then I researched everything there was to know about
the filmmakers and after reading an interview with the film’s producer,
Byron Kennedy, in which he mentioned all the reasons why he and George
Miller made an Aussie movie that was, well, essentially NOT an Aussie
movie in the typical sense, I thought I have to get my synopsis to Byron
Kennedy. I had no idea how to do that so I started with the basics,
writing him a letter introducing myself and my synopsis and telling him
how awesome I thought Mad Max 2 was (I left out that part about not
seeing the first one) and how badly I wanted to join his production
company and be a writer. I sent it to Kennedy/Miller Productions in
Sydney and thought, well; maybe I’ll get a reply. A week or so later the
phone rang one evening at our house and my dad answered. I was in the
living room and not paying attention, but my dad walked in and said:
“Rob, there’s a feller named Byron Kennedy on the phone for you.” I
thought yeah sure, it’s just one of my friends (who all knew about my
synopsis and the letter I’d sent to him) playing a joke. But when I
picked up the phone and said hello and heard this really deep, really
serious voice on the other end, I knew right away that it was Byron
Kennedy on the frikkin line! I couldn’t believe it! He told me he was
intrigued by my synopsis and wanted me to flesh it out into a 60 page
treatment and send it off to him. I was like sure Byron no worries I can
do that and I’ll get it to you in two weeks. I had no idea what a
treatment was or how I was going to flesh out my 5 page synopsis (I’d
only just found out what one of those was) to sixty pages. But I’d just
talked to the creator/producer of the Mad Max films and told him I’d
have a treatment to him in two weeks and by God I was going to keep my
word. I read some books my mom and dad had given me on screenwriting and
discovered that a treatment was just a story written in present tense
that basically laid out the plot structure and beats of an idea in a
form similar to what you might see in a book. That was a relief. It was
just writing. And I knew I could do that. I sat down and pounded out a
treatment on the typewriter my parents had bought me (God bless them
they completely supported my crazy aspirations of being a writer and
never doubted me). I don’t remember if I got exactly sixty pages but I
know it was pretty long. I don’t even remember where all the ideas came
from – they just sort of started flowing when I started typing. Never
mind that it was mostly crap. There was some pretty awesome stuff in
“Mad Max 3: The Steel Prince” by Robert Shaw. I sent it off and got a
call a couple days later from Byron’s secretary telling me he’d received
my treatment and would be getting in touch with me once he got back
from a trip he was on. And I thought this is it, I’m on my way to
success. So I waited. And then a few weeks later one of my friends (I
think it was Phill Dimitroff or his brother Martin) told me Byron
Kennedy was dead. He’d been killed in a helicopter crash while away on
some trip. I didn’t believe him. But why would someone joke about
something that awful. It was no joke of course and I was devastated. I
mean, never mind the fact that it was bloody terrible that the guy had
been killed – that really was an awful tragedy – but I’d be lying if I
didn’t also think well frak, what about my story treatment? (Selfish
right? I know. I was young and I apologize for it). I waited a while and
then called Kennedy/Miller Productions and asked what was going to
happen to my treatment. The girl I spoke to didn’t know what I was
talking about and of course I couldn’t get in touch with Byron’s
secretary – the one who’d called to say he’d received my treatment – I
didn’t remember her name and when I asked to speak to his secretary they
told me she wasn’t there anymore. A few months went by and I went to
Sydney to try and shed some light on the subject but was not warmly
received by anyone at Kennedy/Miller so that was the end of that. I
refused to see Mad Max 3 when it came out but a few of my friends that
had read my treatment swore it had scenes out of my treatment in it. I
had Max captured by an enemy camp and forced to fight in a pit against a
huge half-man/half-machine opponent named Sordak, who was clad in metal
and a mask. The pit was surrounded by cheering/jeering enemy members of
the camp; Thunder Dome had the fights in the Thunder Dome cage. I had
Max discover a tribe of friendly people and kids in a sort of hidden
oasis base; Thunder Dome had the kids in the desert oasis. Did they rip
off some ideas from my treatment and adapt them for their own use?
Maybe. But it was decades ago and I’d never be able to prove it. Anyway,
I decided to write a script from my treatment and just take out all the
Mad Max stuff – which was easy. I ended up with a script called The
Steel Prince, which was a sort of Sword & Sorcery/ground based Star
Wars hybrid that I thought (at the time) really rocked. Then I read
about an Aussie director named Russell Mulcahy who had just made a movie
called Razorback – which turned out to be a great Aussie film and the
first of its kind in Australian cinema. I read that he was editing the
movie up in Sydney at the offices of McElroy & McElroy, the company
that produced the movie, so I called to ask if he’d be interested in
reading my script. Man, in retrospect it seemed way easy to get in touch
with movie producers and directors back then because when I got put
through to the cutting room Mulcahy actually took my call. After a brief
discussion he agreed to meet with me and read my script if I brought it
up to Sydney. So I hopped on a plane. When I got there I called him and
he said to swing by his condo the next morning around 10am. Luckily I
went early because when I arrived I bumped into him as he was heading
out to have breakfast. He’d forgotten all about me. Anyway, I handed
him the script and he said “Oh, is this it?” I guess it didn’t look too
impressive. Anyway, he said he’d read it and would let me know. So I
hopped a train back to Melbourne and followed up with another call about
a month later. When I talked to him again he told me he wasn’t
interested in doing Sword & Sorcery. I guess he was as impressed by
the reading of my script as he had been by the receiving of it from me.
Oh well, looking back I realize my script was crap anyway. Mulcahy’s
next movie was Highlander so I guess he became interested in doing Sword
& Sorcery after all. And Highlander was a way better script that
mine!
Buy Robert Shaw's books on Amazon: http://amzn.to/Tlf0F7
Buy Robert Shaw's books on Amazon: http://amzn.to/Tlf0F7
It's Story Time.... so far
CHAPTER 1: Gonna be in episodic stages, kind of like the way Dickens used to publish things in Household Words way back in the late
1800s). It’s called Uselysses an OddEssay on my struggles to find
success in the movie biz (ugh, what a terrible curse! why didn’t I want
to do something easy like be an astronaut?). Anyway, it began in
Melbourne Australia where I managed to land a job with the Australian
Broadcasting Corporation (the ABC, but not the U.S. version) at their
Ripponlea Studios center. My job title was Location Assistant, and the
duties entailed driving cast members to and from the studio to whatever
location we were filming at on any given day. It was an easy gig – drive
them to location, sit around and watch filming until it was time to
take someone back to the studio. I got to meet some Aussie stars (but
these were in the days before Nicole Kidman or Russell Crowe were stars
so not them), and I worked with Kylie Minogue before she was ever heard
of. She told me she had gotten the role by accident and was planning on
going to college after shooting was completed. The next I heard of her
was a few years later, when I was working in London. I was listening to
this happy little pop song on the radio and when it ended the DJ
announced it was by new Aussie singing sensation Kylie Minogue. I was
like, wow, so much for college and good for Kylie. Boy, I wish I knew
her nowadays.
Anyway, I had this job for about two years and worked on a couple of shows before I decided it wasn’t enough work or experience to really help me out. I interviewed on many films for a job as a runner (the bottom of the ladder in production) but couldn’t for the life of me figure out why I couldn’t land a job. I mean, being a runner? I could handle that in my sleep. To make it sound like I had more experience, I would say in interviews that in addition to driving the mini bus, I would also help out on set when able, like helping out the grips and whatnot. Now, being inexperienced as I was, I had no clue that the moment I said this whoever was interviewing me knew I was lying. Because (as I learned later while working on a show in England) it was absolutely against union rules for anyone not a grip to even touch any of the equipment or go near it. So I never got a job because no one bothered to tell me “look dude, I know you’re just trying to get a job, but when you tell me you helped out the grips I know it’s B.S. so forget it.” Why couldn’t someone just tell me that? They wouldn’t have to hire me. Just arm me with the information that could save me in my next frigging interview. Yeesh!
So I never did get a job as a runner on any Aussie movies. It was time to head for different shores. I got in touch with a very famous (in the movie biz) 1st A.D. (that’s a first assistant director) named David Tomblin who at the time did all of Steven Spielberg’s and George Lucas’ films and asked if he would help get me a job if I came to England. I’d just read an interview with him in a magazine and he sounded like a cool guy so I figured I’d send him a letter. Since he’d done a lot of work on Spielberg’s movies I figured I’d call Amblin Entertainment’s offices and see if they had an address for him. Their receptionist put me through to someone’s office and when I explained to the girl who answered that I wanted to find out where to write to David Tomblin she said – and this is no word of a lie: “well he’s standing right behind me so would you like to talk to him?” Hell, I didn’t want to talk to the guy! I wanted to figure out how to present my case and put it all in an extremely well-written letter that he wouldn’t be able to ignore. So like an idiot I said: “Sure, I’d love to talk to him.” He got on the phone and I stuttered my way through an introduction and then managed to tell him I was gonna go to England and try and get a job in the movie business. He told me I was crazy. But he said if I went to England he would meet with me and try and help me get a job (told you he was a cool guy). He did warn me that there was no guarantee (is there ever?) and that I shouldn’t go to England merely on the hopes that he could get me onto a movie crew. I told him I was getting nowhere in Australia and that I was off to England no matter what. So he gave me his number in London and said call him when I got there. So I bought a plane ticket and off I went (well, it was a little more detailed and a helluva lot harder than that makes it sound but these are the broad strokes here). Next chapter: London...
Buy Robert Shaw's books on Amazon: http://amzn.to/Tlf0F7
Anyway, I had this job for about two years and worked on a couple of shows before I decided it wasn’t enough work or experience to really help me out. I interviewed on many films for a job as a runner (the bottom of the ladder in production) but couldn’t for the life of me figure out why I couldn’t land a job. I mean, being a runner? I could handle that in my sleep. To make it sound like I had more experience, I would say in interviews that in addition to driving the mini bus, I would also help out on set when able, like helping out the grips and whatnot. Now, being inexperienced as I was, I had no clue that the moment I said this whoever was interviewing me knew I was lying. Because (as I learned later while working on a show in England) it was absolutely against union rules for anyone not a grip to even touch any of the equipment or go near it. So I never got a job because no one bothered to tell me “look dude, I know you’re just trying to get a job, but when you tell me you helped out the grips I know it’s B.S. so forget it.” Why couldn’t someone just tell me that? They wouldn’t have to hire me. Just arm me with the information that could save me in my next frigging interview. Yeesh!
So I never did get a job as a runner on any Aussie movies. It was time to head for different shores. I got in touch with a very famous (in the movie biz) 1st A.D. (that’s a first assistant director) named David Tomblin who at the time did all of Steven Spielberg’s and George Lucas’ films and asked if he would help get me a job if I came to England. I’d just read an interview with him in a magazine and he sounded like a cool guy so I figured I’d send him a letter. Since he’d done a lot of work on Spielberg’s movies I figured I’d call Amblin Entertainment’s offices and see if they had an address for him. Their receptionist put me through to someone’s office and when I explained to the girl who answered that I wanted to find out where to write to David Tomblin she said – and this is no word of a lie: “well he’s standing right behind me so would you like to talk to him?” Hell, I didn’t want to talk to the guy! I wanted to figure out how to present my case and put it all in an extremely well-written letter that he wouldn’t be able to ignore. So like an idiot I said: “Sure, I’d love to talk to him.” He got on the phone and I stuttered my way through an introduction and then managed to tell him I was gonna go to England and try and get a job in the movie business. He told me I was crazy. But he said if I went to England he would meet with me and try and help me get a job (told you he was a cool guy). He did warn me that there was no guarantee (is there ever?) and that I shouldn’t go to England merely on the hopes that he could get me onto a movie crew. I told him I was getting nowhere in Australia and that I was off to England no matter what. So he gave me his number in London and said call him when I got there. So I bought a plane ticket and off I went (well, it was a little more detailed and a helluva lot harder than that makes it sound but these are the broad strokes here). Next chapter: London...
Buy Robert Shaw's books on Amazon: http://amzn.to/Tlf0F7
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