Come on, writers, script your futures

The Big Picture: As the writers strike enters its third week, I think the future
belongs to a
tantalizing new hyphenate: the writer-entrepreneur.

Hollywood is a town awash in hyphenates. TV is loaded with writer-producers. The
movie
biz is full of writer-directors. There's even a legion of actor-filmmakers like
Clint
Eastwood and George Clooney. But as the writers strike enters its third week, I
think the
future belongs to a tantalizing new hyphenate: the writer-entrepreneur.

Visiting a UCLA film class the other night, I was asked to name the most
influential
filmmakers of our era. The choices were pretty obvious: Steven Spielberg, Peter
Jackson,
John Lasseter, George Lucas. . . . As the names spilled out, I realized they all
have
something in common. They're filmmaker-entrepreneurs, artists-turned-businessmen
who helped start their own companies to further their work, became financially
independent and created a world that operates under a radically different set of
rules from
the vacuous studio assembly lines. It's telling that the current strike is about
new media
yet both sides seem to be following old-school models.

Writer Guild members, listen up. There is a lesson here. Just ask Tony Gilroy,
the writer-
director of "Michael Clayton," a nervy thriller that's won critical raves this
fall. Gilroy had a
script that was dead in the water until a total outsider -- a Boston real estate
developer
named Steve Samuels -- said if Gilroy could get a star and stick to a budget,
he'd bankroll
the film.

Gilroy didn't see himself as an entrepreneur. He just had a script that was
burning a hole
in his pocket. "I'd say the experience was more about my wising up than becoming
a
visionary," he explained the other day. "But the moment I started chasing
private-equity
money, it didn't take me long before I'd realized that I'd short-circuited the
formula for
getting a greenlight. I didn't need studio approval. All I needed was one guy
who believed
in the movie."

Gilroy is now a convert. "The studios have got to be hoping that this idea about
being
entrepreneurs doesn't sweep over the TV show runners, because once you start
seeing
really good production values on the Internet, I mean, what does Larry David
really need
HBO for? This is all everybody is talking about on the line. They're not talking
about
healthcare. They're going, 'Wow, is there a different way to get our movies and
TV shows
made?' "

It's the kind of talk that's contagious. Scott Frank, who wrote hits like
"Minority Report"
before directing "The Woodsman" this year, has been speaking with Samuels about
financing a new film. David Twohy, writer-director of "The Chronicles of
Riddick," has lined
up financing for a new thriller, "A Perfect Getaway," from Relativity chief Ryan
Cavanaugh,
who also bankrolled "3:10 to Yuma."

Steve Zaillian, who wrote "American Gangster," has a deal with Mandate Pictures
to make
under-$10 million character-driven films where he is a 50-50 partner in all the
projects.
Mandate has a similar partnership with writer-director Sam Raimi of "Spider-Man"
fame.
Mandate also has a writers program in which, in return for initially cutting
their fee, writers
can get 25% of the gross after a film goes into profit and have approval rights
on hiring
the movie's cast and director.

"Writers who create something rare -- a story with great, original characters
that movie
stars will cut their price to play -- have a real value," says Mandate
production chief
Nathan Kahane. "But that value doesn't get unlocked in the studio system. If
writers are
willing to share our risk, then we're willing to give them a lot of control and
share in the
profits too."

THIS kind of entrepreneurial formula couldn't have existed in the era when the
studios had
a stranglehold on every facet of the business, notably talent, money and
distribution. But
those days are gone. The stars became free agents long ago. In the last few
years, with
billions of private-equity dollars flooding the business, the studios have lost
their lock on
financing too.

All that's left is marketing and distribution. It's hard to equal the way
studios launch their
summer popcorn extravaganzas with a $40-million marketing blitz. But as more
entertainment migrates to the Internet, where distribution is basically free to
anyone with
a computer, the studios will lose that monopoly as well. If the last couple of
weeks are any
indication, with clips from out-of-work comedy writers popping up every day, the
Web
could be littered with new must-see video sites by Christmas. Remember: After
barely a
year in existence, YouTube was bought by Google for $1.65 billion. On the
Internet, good
ideas travel fast.

"The world is about to change," Frank says. "Anyone with an Apple computer can
make a
movie now -- it's never been a more democratic medium. The studios should be
very
afraid. Once the independent financiers start going directly to writers, things
could change
really fast. I ask myself every week -- why aren't we all working with them?
Look at the
movies they've made. They are the new Medicis."

While the studios peddle dreary remakes and special-effects extravaganzas, the
movies
that really get people talking -- such as "Crash," "Brokeback Mountain,"
"Michael Clayton"
and the upcoming "Juno" -- have been financed by outside investors. None of the
films
had a big budget, but fiscal discipline and artistic autonomy often fuels
creativity. "Ten
million dollars to $30 million is where ambiguity stays alive, where you can
have
complexity in storytelling," Gilroy says. "When you get up to a certain budget
number with
studio films, the bad guys have to all wear black hats."

The WGA is fighting the good fight. But the glory days of "Norma Rae" are gone.
Real
change in today's world comes from the energy and ideas of entrepreneurs, not
from labor
negotiations. To take control of their work, writers have to cut out the
middleman.
Marshall Herskovitz and Ed Zwick, who just struck a deal with NBC to air their
"Quarterlife"
Web-only dramatic series, will reap most of the rewards, since they own the
show. Not
every writer has the clout of that duo to attract outside investors. But as the
Internet has
proved time and again, game-changing ideas are more likely to come from an
unknown
26-year-old newcomer than a fiftysomething veteran.

THE models are everywhere today, especially in the music business, where
economic
upheaval has given birth to a new array of artist-entrepreneurs. Radiohead and
Prince
have both bypassed the soul-killing tangle of retailers and promotion people by
releasing
their latest records themselves (with Radiohead using the Internet as its
distributor, even
letting its fans set the price of the record themselves).

Being entrepreneurial isn't for the faint of heart. If you want a sweet upfront
paycheck, you
may not have the stomach for it. But after seeing studios bowdlerize their
scripts, many
writers will swap a big payday for more control. Twohy says that after
Relativity read his
script, "They told me, 'Script approved as-is.' I've never heard a studio ever
say that."

This kind of creative freedom already exists in Silicon Valley, where the
creators of product
are its owners. Software entrepreneur Marc Andreessen, who helped found
Netscape,
makes an eloquent argument on his blog (blog.pmarca.com) that a prolonged strike
could
undermine the studios' control of production and distribution, ushering in a new
showbiz
model built in the image of Silicon Valley.

Even if the strike is settled soon, dramatic change is coming. As more outside
money
pours into Hollywood and as our computers begin to merge with our TV sets, the
studios
will have less control over content than ever. NBC's Jeff Zucker can sneer at
the paltry
dollars to be made from selling TV shows on iTunes all he wants. But if old
media keep
pulling their product away, surely the day isn't far away when Steve Jobs will
bankroll his
own programming to keep our iPods full of compelling entertainment.

Whoever enters the fray will still need writers to create this new content. So
writers should
keep their eyes on the prize. Getting a few more pennies of digital loot is just
a beginning,
not an end. The ultimate goal should be finding ways to own a piece of your own
work.

"If I were someone like Les Moonves, I'd be scared," Gilroy says. "You don't
want your
employees thinking about opening their own store around the corner. We might be
really
tough competitors."

The Big Picture runs every Tuesday in Calendar. E-mail questions or criticism to
patrick.goldstein@....