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May General Meeting
Burt Prelutsky Calls 'Em Like He Sees 'Em
by Lance Thompson
(May 2002) |
"Oscars® always go to the wrong scripts. The winner is always some boring, humorless and predictably P. C. film that no one ever wants to see again six months later." This observation from veteran television writer Burt Prelutsky was just a sample of the realistic perspective he shared with Scriptwriters Network members on May 11.
Prelutsky describes himself as the "anti-Lew Hunter," referring to his friend and colleague who has taught and written about screenwriting.
"Lew likes to encourage new writers. I like to discourage them." Citing the endless obstacles every writer will encounter, Prelutsky compares the chances of selling a spec screenplay to winning the lottery. "If you really want to go for the brass ring, become a show runner. Create a [TV] show, even if it's not a very good show, and you'll never have to work again."
Prelutsky points out that screenwriting is the only form of writing that doesn't require the writer to read. Novelists read novels, poets read poetry, but "scriptwriters just have to turn on a TV and say to themselves, "'I can do better than that.'" He recalls a well-attended WGA strike meeting during the early 80s that was disrupted by a bomb scare, and remembers thinking, "If this bomb actually went off and killed 5,000 writers, all those people in Kansas would finally get their chance to write for movies and television. And would probably do just as good a job."
Prelutsky's chance came in 1968, when he was reviewing movies for LA Magazine and writing a weekly humor column for the Los Angeles Times magazine West. He answered the phone one morning and heard a voice say, "This is Jack Webb." Knowing that his UCLA buddy Harry Shearer loved doing impressions, Prelutsky hung up and went back to sleep. A minute later, Jack Webb called back, this time convincing Prelutsky he was indeed the well-known star/producer of the popular Dragnet series. Webb was a fan of Prelutsky's newspaper column and invited him in to write an episode about the detectives debating police critics on a television talk show.
The assignment led to several more Dragnet scripts, but Prelutsky found the show hard to write for, "mainly because of the format. It's a first person detective show. There's no preparation, no crime, no action. It's a police report on film." Some of Prelutsky's scripts for the half hour show ran just 20 pages, prompting the usual response from Webb, who would heft Prelutsky's thin script in one hand and ask, "Where's the rest of it?" Prelutsky remembers that Webb was always capable of padding the script with more "Just the facts" dialogue, while removing every trace of humor.
Prelutsky's movie reviews prompted his next job on The Governor and JJ, produced by Leonard Stern. Stern called one day and said that he and his brother-in-law, Budd Schulberg, disagreed about almost everything, but discovered that they were both using Prelutsky's reviews as their movie guide. Thus convinced that Prelutsky's appeal was universal, Stern called him in to write a script for the show.
Prelutsky's column and reviews have provided him many opportunities. In fact, he asserts with vigor, "No agent ever got me a job." Still, he believes agents "are a necessary evil," and his current agent is helping him market his spec scripts. But Prelutsky remembers an agent who represented him a few years ago who trashed three pilot scripts that Prelutsky had written, then tried to convince him to write up one of his series ideas. "Great," Prelutsky thought, "I've got an agent who wants to break into the business."
When his agent asked what shows Prelutsky wanted to write for, Burt mentioned the powerhouse CBS Saturday night lineup-All in the Family, M*A*S*H, Mary Tyler Moore, Bob Newhart. "You're talking about the top shows in television. Everybody wants to write for those." When Prelutsky said he'd write for any show that had an open assignment, the agent condescendingly commended him for being realistic.
That afternoon when Prelutsky got home, he had a message from Larry Gelbart, who had seen him at an anniversary celebration at Fairfax High, their common alma mater. Gelbart called to thank Prelutsky for a column he had written praising the overlooked achievements of television comedy writers. He also invited Prelutsky in to pitch to M*A*S*H. Prelutsky phoned the agent who had just told him that writing for M*A*S*H was an impossible dream and said simply, "You're fired."
Prelutsky went on to write several freelance scripts for M*A*S*H, and enjoyed working with Larry Gelbart and Gene Reynolds. Other credits include Mary Tyler Moore, Newhart, Rhoda and Family Ties, as well as his first ever staff job on the Dick Van Dyke medical mystery show Diagnosis Murder. He has also written made-for-TV movies Aunt Mary, A Winner Never Quits, Homeward Bound, A Small Killing, and the one he remembers as his best experience in writing for television, Hobson's Choice.
When he went with the two producers, Blue Andre and Vanessa Greene, to meet with CBS executive Marian Brayton to get notes on his script for Hobson's Choice, Prelutsky remembers waiting patiently with his note pad at the ready while the women shmoozed. "After about twenty minutes, Marian leaned over and said, 'Would it be possible to introduce Will on page 10 instead of page 18?' and then went back to talking. That was the note. One note. And that was the script that finally got me my WGA Award after two earlier nominations."
When Prelutsky turned 50 in 1990, he encountered the discrimination of ageism for the first time. Writing assignments dried up, his earnings plummeted, and he had to make some drastic adjustments. "I never thought it would happen to me. A writer can write at any age. It's not like I was a 50 year old shortstop for the Yankees." Prelutsky confronted the problem head-on, speaking out in the media, representing the countless writers who had been phased out by the youth culture. "If people treat you unfairly, speak up! Shout! Make a scene! Better yet, make a lawsuit. There's nothing worse than being a silent victim, serving as a willing accomplice in your own destruction."
For now, Prelutsky will concentrate on selling some spec features and skewering the usual Hollywood cliches. "Writing from passion," is one of his favorite targets. "It always sounds silly to me when I read interviews with screenwriters whose credits consist of cheapo horror movie sequels and straight-to-video slasher flicks nattering on about their passion. Let's face it, most scriptwriting is motivated by a need to put food on the table and pay the rent, which are honorable enough motives. The truth is, if the chance of selling a spec script for a cool million didn't exist, most screenwriters would be doing something else with their lives. It makes about as much sense for somebody to speak about writing movies out of his passion as it would for another person to say he plays the state lottery out of pure passion."
Another of Prelutsky's pet peeves is the wide variety of titles television writers give themselves. "Producer, executive producer, associate producer--they're all writers. But writers want to call themselves producers, it sounds better to the folks back home. Nobody wants to be a writer anymore."
Except Burt Prelutsky, a writer who always calls 'em like he sees 'em.
Lance Thompson writes for movies, television and magazines; tries not to give away the endings to upcoming movies in his motion picture advertising work; and has enjoyed his three years as a mentor in the SWN High School Fellowship Program.
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