published in
One Woman's Writing Retreat
by
Catherine Tudor

CT: Where were you born? How did you end up in Hollywood?

DW: I was born in Chicago and grew up in the suburb of Evanston. While I've lived in L.A. since 1985, I'll always consider Chicago my home town and have much affection for it. My parents and sister still live there so I try to visit as often as I'm able.

I came to Hollywood with a round-trip ticket and expected to stay for a three week period. I wound up getting acting and writing work and never went back (except to pack up my stuff and ship it out here.)

At the time, I was working in Chicago with a partner, Cheryl Rhoads, in a comedy duo, The Fine Line. We met at Second City and began our own act which consisted of comic vignettes on human relationships.

We began in the comedy clubs, developed a following, then branched out into fancier nightclubs and then theatres where we performed our 2-hour show with an accompanist on piano.

Chicago was wonderful to us, and our equity stage show ran for over 9 months. We felt that we had done all we could do there and it was time to move on. So we went out to L.A. and decided to make as many contacts as we could in those three weeks. We performed at the Improv on our second night out here. A close actress friend of mine in Chicago, Ann Whitney, told her brother, McLean Stevenson to catch our act. He liked it and brought back his agent from the William Morris Agency for our performance the following night. She signed us and within a week got us a gig performing three of our scenes on The Merv Griffin Show. Merv invited us back for a second performance the following week where we got to meet his other guest, Orson Welles.

In the third week, we were hired as staff writers and performers on a musical/comedy series on NBC, The Motown Revue with Smokey Robinson. That's when we realized we'd have to move out here for good.

CT: What is the most important thing you learned about yourself while working in Hollywood?

DW: That I needed to have a rich and rewarding life APART from show biz. Working in Hollywood can be tumultuous, with incredible highs and lows and you need to be grounded. I became much happier when I realized I shouldn't depend solely on my career for my sense of self. So I developed other interests and surrounded myself with a small group of friends I could trust.

CT: What is the most important thing you learned about others while working in Hollywood?

DW: Watch your back.

CT: You were involved with the Annie Award-winning films, The Iron Giant and Cats Don't Dance. Does a script for an animated film differ from other screenplays? How does a beginner learn to write for animated films?

DW: Animation scripts tend to be much more descriptive and are lighter on dialogue. Talking heads and static conversational scenes don't work very well in the animation medium. It's also important to note that in live-action, screenplays are the blueprint for the movie, but in animation, the script is only half the blueprint--the other half is the storyboard or storyreel which is overseen by the director and created by board artists. This is where many of the inventive visual gags are born.

The best way for a beginner to write for animation is to closely watch animated films, then read the screenplays for them afterwards.

CT: You also read and analyzed hundreds of screenplays for Steven Spielberg at Amblin Entertainment. What did you look for in a script? What made a great script stand out from the rest?

DW: Originality is, for me, the most important quality in a script. Nothing depresses me more than having to read a by-the-book, formulaic screenplay that rehashes ingredients from other films. I would rather read a poorly structured story that has fresh ideas than a tightly structured one with cliches. I know a lot of people in the business recommend the many Story Structure seminars being offered here, but I point to them as the single biggest contributor to lousy scripts.

CT: You were V.P. of Creative Affairs for Universal Pictures, Warner Bros. and Turner Pictures. A position few of us can imagine. Describe a typical meeting with those studios. What types of decisions were involved? How did the studios differ from one another?

DW: Unfortunately, all the cliches we see about Hollywood are true. When I saw The Player, I came out with knots in my stomach because it was so true to my experience. I've heard things at meetings from top executives that have made my jaw drop open.

The major studios don't differ very much from one another as they all operate under essentially the same principles and pressure. They strive for very big, commercial successes which, of course, makes sense. Since there's no proven method of achieving this, there's a lot of tension and consequently, sometimes decisions are made simply to avoid risk.

That said, I should also add that I learned a great deal from being allowed in these privileged circles and am grateful for the opportunity to have worked closely with some of the most powerful and successful people in the business including Steven Spielberg and Ted Turner. But my favorite part of my work has always been time spent with writers, who unfortunately, aren't normally treated so well by others in the industry.

CT: Tell us one of your fondest memories from Second City.

DW: I remember being in an improv in which we were various items on a salad bar. It sounded like a clever premise, but the scene was going nowhere, we weren't getting any laughs, and I felt like we were dying a slow death. I was a crock of cauliflower. I made myself fall off the salad bar and roll off-stage. It was then that I realized I had an acute sense of self-preservation.

CT: Tell us one of your fondest memories from the Steppenwolf Theater in Chicago.

DW: I was only in one play at Steppenwolf, in the early days. The play was Philadelphia, Here I Come! I had acted with some of the members like John Malkovich and Laurie Metcalf when we were at college, Illinois State University. In this play, the cast was amazing and included Joan Allen, Gary Cole and John Mahoney in his first performance with the company. What I will always remember is watching Jeff Perry (who had the lead) in the last scene of the play. He is seeing his uncommunicative father for the last time before he leaves Ireland for America. Each night he would stand in a doorway and look at his father and tears would just flow out of his eyes. I was so impressed that he was able to get to that emotional point every single night for every single performance.

CT: Which is your favorite: acting, writing, or being an executive?

DW: There is nothing like the high of being on stage and reaping applause, especially for emotionally needy people like me! But so much of being an actor isn't so great--the auditioning, the rejection, the financial insecurity. Being an executive has a lot of pluses too--great perks and financial stability, but isn't very satisfying, creatively. Right now, writing for me is most rewarding because I'm old enough now to have something to say, which probably wasn't always the case.

CT: Is it more difficult writing a funny script than writing live-comedy since you don't receive immediate feedback from an audience? How much improvisation is involved when you work in a comedy club?

DW: All of the material for The Fine Line was created via improvisation with my partner, but not in front of an audience. We'd continue to refine it in front of an audience based on their responses until it was set and scripted. This is much easier than sitting down alone in front of a blank screen where you are your only barometer. But thankfully, my wife (Valerie Berman, a screenwriter) is a brutally honest editor of my work. She has no problem telling me when something simply isn't working and I trust that.

CT: What are your personal goals teaching writing on the Web?

DW: I attempt to help writers express themselves clearly. Rather than trying to turn their material into something else, I aim at getting them to pin-point what it is exactly, that they're trying to say (thematically) then working toward supporting that with their choices in characterization, dialogue, action, etc. I'm more concerned with getting them to find and strengthen their original voice as writers rather than imposing my own subjective tastes, judgements or sensibility on the project.

CT: Comedy, writing, and acting involve risk and courage, as does working in Hollywood. Is there any self-doubt when you reach the top of your profession? Any lingering fears or phobias from when you started out?

DW: Fear of failure has always been my best motivator. Whether acting, writing or being an executive, each day I suspect I will be exposed as a fraud. The constant threat of that compels me to overcompensate and work especially hard.

CT: How do you suggest someone who is interested in comedy develop their skills?

DW: By taking an improv class, preferably with someone who focuses on the process and craft rather than on the results. I've taught Improv to non-professional adults, and it was really gratifying to see them blossom as they became more in tune with their own creative instincts. Most people think improv demands a quick-thinking mind, but the opposite is true--those who use their brains wind up sabotaging themselves; those who are able to refrain from intellectualizing and respond from the gut do surprisingly well.

CT: Name a few of your favorite comedians and tell us why you chose them.

DW: Dick Van Dyke was my first idol. He's an amazing physical comedian, like a classic clown, but also very smart and not afraid to show vulnerability. I also love Mike Nichols and Elaine May--all of their work springs from subtle and perceptive characterization, not situation. (I would add Lily Tomlin for the same reasons.) I used to love Woody Allen but feel he's become a hack as a director. Bullets Over Broadway is the only film of his I've enjoyed in the last 10 years. I love all of Albert Brooks' work from Defending Your Life back to his first film, Real Life, but am sorry that he seems to have lost his edge in his more recent work.

I am a big fan of the TV series Taxi which combined comedy and pathos better than any other show I've seen. Larry David's cable show, Curb Your Enthusiasm makes me laugh out loud, as does the Comedy Central show, Strangers With Candy. It's an uneven series that misses as often as it hits, parodying After School Specials. But Amy Sedaris as a 47-year-old ex-prostitute/junkie who goes back to high school is brilliant.

In terms of writers, David Sedaris (Amy's brother) and George Saunders are at the top of my list because they're not afraid of venturing into dark areas and consequently, their comedy has real bite.

CT: Name a few of your favorite films and tell us why you chose them.

DW: I can never just name a few because there are so many I hate to leave out. Robert Altman's Nashville is my all-time favorite film because it covers all the bases--it's original, moving, and has something to say, but also funny and incredibly entertaining. I've seen it over a dozen times, and I always find something new. Don't Look Now by Nicholas Roeg is another favorite--one of the scariest movies ever made, and a real work of art. I also love (in no particular order, and for a variety of reasons) Annie Hall; Mazursky's Next Stop Greenwich Village; Dog Day Afternoon; Taxi Driver, Election; Truly Madly Deeply; Bottle Rocket; The Wizard of Oz; Psycho; Fargo; Melvin and Howard; Local Hero; Rosemary's Baby; Jackie Brown; A Simple Plan; Sunset Blvd.; and the first hour of The Black Stallion.

CT: Any advice for writers?

DW: Write the kind of movie you would want to see, in a genre you love. The fact is, you're going to be stuck working on it for months, possibly years, so to keep up that kind of enthusiasm, it has to be something you're eager to visit over and over again. I also encourgage writers to pick a theme that means something to them and to write a film they connect to on a personal level. And to those writers who are bold enough to write original scripts that are tough sells because they're not traditionally "commercial" properties-- you will encounter a lot of rejection, but if you're persistant, you just might find that one person out there (hopefully in a position of some power) who shares your sensibility and gets what you're doing. Hold out for this in favor of diluting or homogenizing your work in order to fit within the limited boundaries of popular entertainment.

CT: Any advice for Hollywood?

DW: Be open-minded. Take risks.