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07
Jun
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Written by Seb Hunter

 

Greetings, citizens of Earth. Denizens of Jendell.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING WITH THE ELDER??" people ask me on Facebook. On Twitter. On the bus. On the train. On the street. On the corner. On the misty mountain. On the dark side of town. On the beach. On fire.

And I'll tell you. We've been having some interesting meetings. We know some things. Things we didn't know before. And this knowledge is moving us in new and exciting directions.

We're basically now pretty certain that KISS are not going to directly invest in our film - they are not going to fund any of this upfront - no matter how killer-driller our screenplay may or may not be. Shall I tell you what KISS do? KISS get given money to do things. Lots of money. Give KISS a load of money and they will not only endorse your product, but they'll endorse it with all guns, flash bombs, smoke bombs and elevating drum kits blazing. Not only that but they'll turn up in sunglasses and cut your big red ribbon with an outlandishly large pair of scissors whilst doing that devil-hand sign thing ever-so-slightly wrong. If you want the KISS brand to add value to your product, you must pay to get access to this brand, because this brand SELLS. And KISS don't come cheap, ladies and gentlemen. KISS don't even know what cheap MEANS. KISS even refused to go out on tour with the band Cheap Trick, so loathe were they to have their venerable logo anywhere in the vicinity of that dreadful C-word. So you can see where this is going, right?

Why in God's name would KISS want to give a bunch of Limey amateurs a pile of their own, hard-earned, hard-assed, hard-putted KASH?

They simply wouldn't. Even if they think this is the greatest movie idea of all time. Which of course it is. But still.

However. If we start to channel this film through more traditional avenues - ie an independent movie production company, whose very raisons d'être are essentially cash facilitation - then we get into far more interesting territory. Production companies are supremely adept at raising finance for moviemaking. That's essentially what they're there for. And in order for our - now significantly-developed - movie project to appeal to one of those, then we need to begin to play the industry game. So far, we've played this by our own rules. Worked on instinct. Drive. Passion. Complete fucking ignorance (or as I prefer to call it, inspiration). And we could still make this film on our own terms. The fact is that we COULD start shooting this film in a mere few months' time. We have everything in place - we have a script, actors, most of a crew, the technical nous, the hardware, the BASIC ABILITY to make the film we have conceived.

But.

And this is a big but. The $6m but.

Do we REALLY want to make it ourselves? A diligent, dogged, lo-fi, artistically pure, quite possibly somewhat amateur-looking local piece of film-making? Maybe we do.

Maybe we don't. Maybe we want to make a film with a proper budget. A film that looks great, feels great, IS great. Is proper, plush, MONEYED. If this is to happen, then the way to proceed with this movie project is to hook up with an independent production company, and essentially join the film industry mainstream. Yes, we'll then quite possibly be in dreaded 'development' for a while; yes, I won't be able to drive this project single-handed any more, if indeed at all; and yes, the whole thing might well change into a disabled pensioners' romcom set in Bridlington-on-sea, but perhaps this is the price that we need to pay in order to get The Elder made? We do this via an established movie production company, start to raise finance, hopefully secure the services of a star (for the Morpheus role, the key role), then rest assured, KISS will answer our phone calls. Because we'll be phoning with money behind us.

OR should we stay completely independent and fund the entire movie with an all-singing, all-dancing, massively proactive Kickstarter campaign?

I really don't know. Both options have their merits.

In the meantime we are going to be speaking to some independent production companies, testing the water. I recently had a great lunch with a well known director who, when I showed him our all-new, sexy 4-page treatment document, told me to rip it up (AGAIN) and boil it all down to an even sexier (just how sexy is it possible to make a single piece of paper?), ONE-pager, and include with it some visuals - some concept art, Ralph McQuarrie-style too, so that we're going in with a visual hook, context, right from the offset.

So this is what we're now busy doing. Weirdly, the very morning after this lunch, I was Facebook messaged by a guy in Chile - Claudio Bergamin, concept artist extraordinaire - who got in touch offering his services over a year ago, and to whom I've not spoken since, simply as I've had no need for his considerable expertise. Until the exact moment he contacted me last week. Life is weird like that sometimes.

So Claudio, God bless him, has now been briefed on the specific concept art required, and we should now be in a position to pitch professionally to the indies by the end of June. Phew!

So we'll see what kind of reaction we get. I'll keep you posted. I guess if nobody shares our vision then we'll be forced down the independent, Kickstarter route, which might in fact be the best way to proceed in the first place. We'll see. But everybody who reads the script, or the treatment, seems to really *get* the movie, so I'm feeling quietly confident. A lot of people have worked very hard to get us to this point. And the movie, as it stands, as a fully-fledged concept, script, the works, is in damn good shape.

So it's all still to play for, folks.

The kid stays in the picture.

For the time being.

23
Apr
Print
Written by Seb Hunter

 

My lords, ladies and gentlemen.

OK so I have been avoiding writing this Elder movie blog.

Not much has been happening on the surface, but plenty beneath, like Stephen Hawking, or Loch Ness.

The last time we spoke, I had just finished (draft four - first public draft, of) our original screenplay and contacted KISS's manager Doc McGhee in order to hopefully fix up a meeting to pitch the film project to the band. Well, this hasn't happened yet. In fact KISS were so desperate to avoid having to speak to me they flew all the way to Australia to 'play some gigs' instead.

Initially my feelings were somewhat hurt by this brutal rejection. HELLO? AHEM?? DON'T YOU KNOW, I HAVE FINISHED WRITING MY THING NOW? AREN'T YOU GOING TO OPEN YOUR ELABORATE PATIO DOORS AND BEARHUG ME? Sadly the world does not work like this. Sadly the world does not give two hoots about one's valiant creative efforts. Instead one must crowbar oneself into every crevice and then TURN TO RUST, so they can't get rid of you without phosphoric acid or the threat of firearms.

This period of patience and head-scratching enabled me to realise that even if / when I get my meeting, the likelihood of millionaire rock stars subsequently dutifully sitting down and reading a 100-page screenplay was remote to say the least. What I needed, and LACKED, was a goddamn TREATMENT DOCUMENT. For all you peasants who don't know what this is, it's basically a sexing-up synopsis document which explains the idea, the themes and a breakdown of the story itself, as well as who we are exactly. So that perusal of such a critical document ought to provide the reader / mogul / blood-spitting demon in big silver dragon boots kinda guy with an overview of WHAT THIS PROJECT ACTUALLY IS, AND WHY, without having to wade through 100 pages of my original screenwriting genius. Don't forget that. (Please also do not forget that multiple-Oscar-winning 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid' was William Goldman's DEBUT original screenplay, a fact whose obvious parallel I need linger over no longer.)

The only, shall we say, issue, about this clearly essential treatment document, which is now done and has been sent off to our designer David Bailey to design (thank you David), is that writing it was officially the most boring and tedious creative thing I have ever done. EVER. And I once wrote an entire book about classical music. Writing this sodding treatment meant boiling down everything that happens in the film - every scene, important gesture, potent allusion, etc etc - down to a line, or half a line, or couple of words, which must then hang together in ITS OWN narrative context. My God it was deathly dull, ladies and gentlemen. And it took me WEEKS. That's right, ACTUAL WEEKS, just to end up with 6-7 pages of this general synopsis! In fact it could even have been months. I kind of kept putting it off, as it was so unrewarding, and hey, Doc still might just call at ANY MOMENT. What time is it in Brisbane anyway?

But now we something more palatable to put into his hands. And it provides a truly excellent overview of the film project, as well as telling the, ahem, dazzling story itself. The story of the Boy, Morpheus, the Order of the Rose, the Odyssey, Mr Blackwell, and so on and so forth. So now, as soon as I get it back from David, we will be AGGRESSIVELY pushing this treatment document to do two things. Here are the things.

1) Get us into a hugging situation with KISS management and possibly Tommy Thayer.

2) Get us a fucking producer.

This treatment is basically my homing pigeon, which I am about to send out into the big wide world, in my trusty old cloth cap. Because that's how my pigeon rolls. With a thump.

If you're interested in our treatment and would like me to email you over a copy, please get in touch, as this pigeon document is going to be doing some serious avian muscle work for us over the next few weeks and months.

Oh and I also worked through another (F I F T H) draft of the screenplay itself. I kind of did that as I was synopsising the thing; realising that, oh look, now I'm here I realise I don't really need that scene to be there after all, so...CUT!!! SNIP!! DELETE!!

So despite the lack of blogdates, we are still out there, putting in the hours. We're still making this god damn movie. More than ever, my friends, more than ever.

Next blog: hopefully something other than sitting in front of my computer.

Fly, little pigeon, fly!!

Fly on the wings of love.

Fly baby fly.

Reaching the stars above.

Touching the sky.

Maybe it is mine.

Fly on the wings of love.

Reaching the stars above.

Touching the sky.

The Olsen Brothers, 2000

29
Jan
Print
Written by Seb Hunter

 

Good afternoon.

It might look like nothing has been happening here at the Elder movie, but OH, it has. I have been spending the last few weeks working on the latest (fourth) draft of the screenplay (and, ahem, avidly digesting William Goldman's immense 'Which Lie Did I Tell?'). Yes indeed, didn't we all think our script was FINISHED?!?

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA H HA H h H N H an H HnNnHnNmMMsnMzndn

(It's NEVER finished. At some point it just stops getting rewritten.)

When I got to the (initial) end, back in November 2012, I had a quick cup of tea and a biscuit and then went straight back and started again from the beginning. As a result we now have a script which is shorter, tighter, and gleams like a bright, polished horse show. Hoses now. Oh don't we all love predictive type. HORSESHOE. IT GLEAMS LIKE A GOD DAMN HORSESHOE.

Why did I even choose the word HORSESHOE? Oh God, my iPad is now automatically capitalising the word HORSESHOE. I couldn't write a lowercase HORSESHOE if I wanted to. Horseshoe. Panic over.

So we have a working script! A script to send to people! Who should we send our script to? Obviously my first thought was Tommy Shaw from Styx, but in the end, I emailed Doc McGhee (KISS's legendary manager) politely requesting a meeting with Gene and Paul, in order for us to pitch the movie project in person. Doc very courteously replied the next day saying he'd circulate my email amongst the guys and hopefully get back to me ASAP.

This was two weeks ago now. Should I be nervous?

It's not as if KISS are planning a massive WORLD TOUR or anything at the moment, which begins, in Australia, IN A MONTH.

Yesterday I sent a reminder.

Next I'm thinking that final scene in Se7en.

But with this script now in my hands, I feel like I have magic powers. Like a magic shield. Like Jason and the Argonauts. Whoever that guy with the Minotaur was. Jamie and the Magic Torch. Can somebody please edit an education into this blog post for me? Jesus Christ.

Oh and I'm holding fire on attempting to get a new producer on board as I figure if KISS do want to get involved, the fewer people hanging off this project the better, so far as they're concerned. They might want their own producer, or cheese board, or anything. So let's keep this clean and loose and just get this script over to em, pitch the project, and then see what happens. There's not much more I can do right now. My work is kind of done, for the time being. The script is as good as I can make it (until the next draft, as you sadistic bastards never tire of reminding me). I'm incredibly proud of my screenplay. It's a great story. It has great characters. There's no flab. It races along. It has twists, turns, and a tasty reveal at the end. IT'S A FILM. IT'S A GOD DAMN FILM.

Please, if nothing else, let's all drink to that. We have a script. A workable draft. And it's THAT which is going to open all these doors. Or at least aggressively bark HELLO? through an intercom.

Right, Doc?

Doc?

19
Dec
Print
Written by Seb Hunter

The Elder original script 

Merry Christmas to you, one and all, from the Elder movie.

Ho ho ho and a bottle of rum and last year's Dick Advocaat sitting forlorn and norovirus at the back of the cupboard.

Here in December 2012, the Elder movie project is just over a year old. In this year we have gathered together a fantastic team of UK independent filmmakers (PLUS supplementary expertise from all four corners of the globe), written, shot, edited and launched our trailer (28,000 views and counting) and almost finished an original feature-length screenplay. I am about three-quarters of the way through this, its fourth draft. Yes, FOURTH DRAFT. My god, it's boring. SO BORING. I AM SO BORED. I HATE IT.

So it's going well.

This is the nature of the beast. It is a human nature. It's nature is 150-odd pages, which must be boiled down to 120-odd pages MAX HEADROOM. And sixty-six.

Lets all RAISE OUR GLASSES to how far we've come in a single year. From nothing to something - something real, tangible, something that's really going to happen. Maybe this time next year we'll have shot the film? What a strange thought! But an exciting one.

As usual, I have been contacted by various fascinating, interesting and frankly mad people over the last few weeks, all with tales to tell and/or expertise and/or enthusiasm and/or cease and desist letters to bring to the table. One of these communiques was from Mr Brian Brewer from Chicago, Illinois, which is in America, or so they say.

In 2000 Brian attended a KISS auction, and, wise and perceptive man that he is, made a unique and somewhat exhilarating purchase. It is the only known example of this legendary item, knowledge of whose very existence caused me to gasp out loud. Brian bought a copy of the original, complete, feature-length Elder movie script! Who knew there even was such a thing?! Not me!

- What's it like? (130 pages!)

- Boring, said Brian.

- Boring? Boring how?

Descriptions Brian then threw in my direction included 'formulaic', 'typical early 80s' and 'B-movie'. The kind of words we might have been expecting. In fact he used the word 'formulaic' twice. That's how formulaic we're talking.

But it exists! A script got wrote!

And Brian is not going to sell it to you, you'll be pleased to hear. It's the cornerstone of his KISS Kollection, along with a handsome framed original Paul Stanley art piece entitled 'Purple Haze'.

Just for fun, how much do you reckon such a unique, one-off item might be worth? I know (because I asked) what Brian paid for it, and how much Bruce Kulick thinks it's worth (because Brian asked Bruce and Bruce told Brian and Brian told me, because I asked), and how much I think it's worth (in turnips), but how much do YOU think? Any suggestions above $100,000 please make immediate contact with Brian Brewer of Chicago, Illinois. And your psychiatrist.

Merry Christmas. We'll see you next year.

And the year after that.

20
Nov
Print
Written by Seb Hunter

 

So I have finished writing the Elder movie screenplay. As they say in Germany: ‘Ich habe schreckliche Probleme mit meinem Geranien!’ (Trans: “It's shit or get off the pot time.”)

So what do I do? Do I...do a...shit? Or....get off...the.....?

MOVING ON.

The script has now gone off to our various script editors, to get ripped apart like the haunches of a gazelle by a ravenous leopard. (Fear not, readers: if any of them dare say anything bad then I'll simply fire their sorry asses. I mean arses. Arses doesn't sound quite so...I don't know...) The subsequently, erm, replete leopard will then, erm, return the masticated, digested and hopefully now much, erm, tastier...flesh to....me (the gazelle) so that I may take my newly restored...plump haunches....back to the...grazing plateau....to meet some influential...zebras....at the....watering hole. Right?

What with everything else going on with the film project, like making the trailer, arguing with Owen, posting banalities on Facebook and not to mention bringing up two (real) small children, in the end the screenplay took me eleven months to complete. It was not particularly enjoyable. Creative work rarely is (unless you are drunk, but that's never a good idea, as 99% of the time, what you write when inebriated is total bollocks - although weirdly, I find, editing after a few glasses of wine is completely fine, much like operating heavy machinery). But I learned a lot from the experience. To take up some space, here is a list in bullet points about all that I have learned from this screenwriting experience.  

- It's very easy to expand your plot; to get carried away in your imagination in construction of a wonderful world of your own creation.

- Once you have done this, it is then necessary to pull it all together again at the end. This is considerably harder. All your previous glorious expansions have to then agonizingly contract and make sense and, indeed, justify their very presence in the first place. This is a complete pain in the arse, and makes you want to punch your six-months-previous self in the face repeatedly.

- Pare the dialogue RIGHT down. Seriously. You are not Quentin Tarantino, and even he overdoes things with the showboating verbal pyrotechnics. Pare your dialogue down to, literally, a few grunts. Then pare the grunts down to a few nods and shakes of the head. A blink or two. A vague twitch. Now delete that scene entirely. Then go to the pub and cry.

- I did not learn anything else. Except how easy it is to get distracted. But then, as a writer, I knew that already.

*ALT-TAB*

*several hours later*

So, erm....

Our trailer has now been seen by almost 24,000 people. Hello to you all. Or rather, hello to my mother pressing refresh.

Now we need a producer. With the greatest respect to Owen (not really - I just kind of have to say that), he is not a real producer. Which is why he has ‘stepped down’.

Anybody know any good producers?

Then it's time to pitch the script to KISS.

Then after that we'll try Bryan Adams.

If all else fails, Marillion.

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