06/01/2024
Damn. I wish I'd written 'Atlas.'
Yes, that's the robot stroking a flower during an AI/formerly skeptical-human bonding moment.
Something like this should no longer be considered for development, much less made. How did it get past coverage? What snarky, cavalier Wesleyan grad jammed this through?
Stop making this. Try harder; you're killing us. True, I've been the working dead for years now — no point kicking a bucket that's done been kicked.
I woke up one morning a few years ago to discover I was that urban legend I'd heard about when I was in my early 20s and being assured by everyone that I was the second coming of Orson Welles: a screenwriter who makes a living without getting anything produced. Why? Because $100 million-plus was spent making 'Atlas,' among many other senseless reasons — yup, deliberate oxymoron there.
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INT. CONFERENCE ROOM. CULVER CITY — DAY
The WRITER-DIRECTOR is old as f**k but still edgy. Sitting across from him, the EXEC is a humanoid bag of unctuous smiles and dodgy health regimens.
"Coverage is fantastic! Wow! Haven't read something like this in forever. Love your vision for it in the treatment. But you know the deal: two names or no presales."
"Who are you thinking?"
"For something like this, I dunno, Brad Pitt or Downey? And for the female lead, forgot her name, definitely Kidman or... what about Anya Taylor-Joy? LOVER her! Those lips... oops, can't say that, anymore. You didn't hear that."
"Will you sign offers?"
"What? Pfft. No."
"Then how do I get Brad Pitt and Anya Taylor-Joy?"
"You know the drill, man."
"If you submit an offer, they have to read."
"We're not signing offers."
"So after making me wait 4 months while someone else read the script for you and hammered out this nearly illegible coverage —"
"She's one of our best analysts. And she gave you a Recommend. Rarely does that. Be kind."
"She didn't even reread what she wrote, much less switched on Grammarly."
"She's slammed. Do you know how many scripts we get?"
"But you attached yourself to this one, convinced me to do it on spec by manipulating my devotion to my vocation."
"Because I believe in you."
"Money for nothing and your scripts for free.'"
"What?"
"Dire Straights song, never mind. Even with an offer, we'd have to wait an average of 3 to 4 months for agency coverage on their end, and then for the actor to read while dangling in front of a green screen in New Zealand before they inevitably pass because they haven't read it; what "reading" really means is the agent convinces them to do it if the agent wants them to, but she needs to meet her own company quotas by not recommending roles that pay scale plus ten."
"Dude, we have to cap the budget at —"
"Because the lead is gay."
"You said 'bi.'"
"...."
"It's not because of that. Look, no matter how good it is, it's a limited release. You know the deal: if it catches on, buzz-buzz-buzz, platform, platform, wins awards, Sundance, Cannes, maybe picks up a few Oscars — I can definitely see you nominated for this, just brilliant writing."
"Thanks, but that's utterly meaningless. Here's what: pay the actors something not as insulting as scale-plus-ten and release it with greater screen saturation boosted by a healthier P&A like you would for, I dunno, a Jennifer Lopez AI sci-fi vehicle."
"Can't."
"Why?"
"You know why."
"It's an indie drama."
"Hey! Don't shoot me. It's the way things are everywhere, you know that. Audiences are tough on dramas, very difficult to even break even on 'em."
"How can audiences support dramas if they don't know about them, when they're not even playing at their local theater with nothing but theater one-sheets for marketing?"
"If you start now, you can build a robust organic social media presence by the time it's made."
"Why would an agent, who's looking over her shoulder at her 'All About Eve' assistant and pulling out clumps of hair every morning from stress about being fired and having to go back to management, recommend a project she's making 10% of scale-plus-ten when she can put her client on some paranoid Transformers meets Lost In Space that gives her 10% of upper seven figures with a performance bump?"
"She won't."
"That was rhetorical. So you're essentially sending me up Everest naked and barefoot, no oxygen, not even a grumpy Nepali sherpa and a flask of rum, without paying me until cashflow, or a few weeks before production."
"That's why you're getting that juicy 5% of producer's net as a backend. And I gave this to you because I respect your prodigious talent. I believe in you."
"How can a film make a backend if nobody's seen it because nobody knows about it and it's not showing anywhere?"
"Was that rhetorical, too?"
"...."
"The way you're arguing reminds me of that weird World War II show that Clooney directed..."
"Catch-22?"
"That's the one! Lunch?"
"Yes, please."
"There's an insanely good taco truck on Little Santa Monica, you'll love it."
______
So now I sell tees and hoodies while my creative partner sells insurance. It's the very best use of our talent and experience, suitable reward for years of putting up with the above, 16-hour workdays on set, no pay for years, and so, so, so much more that I'm a fu***ng idiot, another Quixotic addict.
Stop making these movies. You're killing us.
____
Atlas Shepherd (Jennifer Lopez), a brilliant but misanthropic data analyst with a deep distrust of artificial intelligence, joins a mission to capture a rene...