Tony Morphett has written or co-written seven feature films. Among his TV writing are ten telemovies, twelve miniseries, and some hundreds of episodes of TV series drama. He devised or co-devised seven TV series. He has won 14 industry awards for TV writing.

TV Writing in Australia

Q: Vince Gilligan sent in his episodes of X-files. He then started writing and co-producing X-files. That’s how he broke into TV writing.  How do writers typically break into TV writing in Australia?

A: Vince Gilligan followed a route a lot of aspiring screenwriters in LA try.  Write a spec script for a successful series and hope to get a gig. For him it turned up trumps. It’s a case of “many are called but few are chosen”.  But what the hell, it’s one way of getting past the gatekeepers.

Shane Brennan, now showrunning both NCIS series, was a successful screenwriter here. But he had an urge to work in LA. Every year he’d go over and pitch and finally pulled it off in a sensational way.  David Williamson came into screenwriting from stage.  He segued into movies and his first TV writing was on my 1970’s series Certain Women.  I’d seen The Removalist and was blown away and recommended him to our script editor Glyn Davies. 

Laura Jones also got her first TV writing gig on Certain Women after doing a screenwriting course. If memory serves, that was in Canberra. Debra Oswald, known for her TV writing on Offspring, I think, started as a stage playwright. Peter Gawler – Underbelly and lot of other credits – got a job at Crawford Productions. I think he was a 3^rd Assistant, segued into the script department, became a script editor, then the great writer he is today. 

Crawford’s was an amazing hot-house for TV writing talent.  A lot of people got their start there but there’s nothing quite like it today.  The film schools are turning out writers, some better than others.  The problem with some of the film schools, is that they encourage their students to follow the auteur filmmaker myth.

Directing and screenwriting are two very different disciplines. Each can take years to master. There are some who can do it, but not many.  Daniel Krige went to AFTRS to do screenwriting and segued into writing/directing.  His West is I think a good film, and he may be an exception to my rule.  He came to me when he was about 16, had left school, with a big lever arch file with the first handwritten draft of West inside. 

I agreed to read it and found to my horror that it was a good script. It needed work, but don’t they all? With a lot of nagging some friends, I got him into AFTRS when he was only 19. 

The problem with some of the film schools, it seems to me,
is that they encourage their students to follow the auteur film maker myth.

Me?  I’d written a novel called Dynasty about a media company owning family.  I’d spent 10 years in TV as an interviewer/documentary man and thought it’d make good television.  I pitched it to David Goddard, then head of ABC-TV drama, he commissioned a pilot. 

Then he went back to England and his place was taken by John Cameron, one of the best heads of drama I’ve known.  He commissioned a further 10 eps, then a further 13. I really learned TV writing on those series, primarily from Glyn Davies. He was my script editor, who had worked in the UK on No Hiding Place and The Rat Catchers.  I owe Glyn much, he was a mentor and friend.

I suppose the lesson in all this is to get noticed somehow. And … to have the work to back it up when the chance comes. The one characteristic that all writers possess is that they write.  It’s not “one day when I get time I’ll sit down and write my novel/stage play/screenplay.”

It’s “sit on your arse and do it now.”

Writing for TV: The Showrunners

Q: Do show creators generally come from the ranks of staff writers?  What sort of staff writers generally rise up to create and run their own TV shows?

Reg Watson was on Grundy’s staff.  More recently Bevan Lee on staff at Seven has developed  great shows – A Place To Call Home, Winners and Losers, Packed to the Rafters.  Crawford’s shows were all, I think, developed in-house.

I’ve created or co-created seven series.  Debra Oswald won a NSW Premier’s award for the telemovie pilot of Offspring.  The pattern these days is for shows to be created in-house or by indy poducers. Blue Heelers was by me and Hal McElroy, Water Rats by me and John Hugginson, both freelancers but done for Hal McElroy.

Q: Does TV writing require a particular personality type?

A: Creating a show needs a writer’s brain. Running one needs a producer’s brain.  Some people like Shane Brennan and Bevan Lee  have both and can switch from one to the other. It’s a hard trick, and I’ve never been tempted to do it because running a show would take away from my TV writing time, which is my first love.  

Q: As you mentioned, the audience is more segmented than ever. How is the rise of social media/YouTube/VOD impacting on how TV shows are funded?

A: Yes, the audience is now segmented but TV goes on. I’m not up the business end, but my understanding is that advertising revenue remains strong.  Screen Australia will invest in telemovies and in miniseries but not episodics.  This policy can distort the nature of the show.  A natural episodic idea will now usually need a spine running through 13 episodes turning it into a miniseries. You can do this only 5 times (=65 eps) before ScreenOz cuts off investment funding. 

Sea Patrol and Underbelly both did this which is a factor in why both series ended at 65 eps apiece.  Generally speaking new technology doesn’t kill old.  Radio didn’t kill books, TV didn’t kill radio, the internet and smartphones and X Boxes have not killed TV.    

Q: Are Australian TV shows profitable in general?  What is being done to increase the profitability?

A: That depends on the ratings. If a show on commercial TV rates well it will attract advertising.  If a show doesn’t rate well, you’ll see it moved to a later time slot, and usually a different night and it won’t be picked up for another series.  No one promised us a rose garden and life in the jungle is tough.

 Q: Are there any Australian TV shows that do a great job of integrating social media and the internet to reach a greater audience?  How is this impacting the advertising model?

A: Like everyone in media, I’m watching social media/internet.  With downloads and YouTube and so on the way, ratings are counted has changed.  These days you get the Overnights and then the Consolidated Rating which gives you a better idea or how many people are watching but it doesn’t and never has tell you if anyone’s in the room or paying attention.  Kids multitask – they watch TV and their X Boxes simultaneously.  No system’s perfect.  

Q: How is TV writing changing in the age of digital media?

A: It’s perhaps got crisper and faster moving but the fundamentals haven’t changed since we sat around in caves telling stories to each other about the last Mastodon hunt.  Humans want to be told stories.  Why we do is a two bottle argument. My own view is that fiction is a training ground for real life.  You learn strategies for living from stories and live many other people’s lives.  

Q: What in your view, as a long-time successful practitioner, are some of the upsides and downsides of the change in the landscape of TV writing in Australia?

A: In many ways  we’ve become a coarser society.  In my youth, men generally didn’t use profanity in front of women, they kept it to the public bar.  Men were in that sense functionally bi-lingual, and women didn’t use language that would make a sailor blush. That age is now gone. 

The trap for younger writers in this is to  take the easy route when it comes to expressing, say, anger.  There’s also what I call the Fucking and Killing Sub-Genre which can get boring.  Think of the American studio films of the 40’s and 50’s. They didn’t need it to get their effects.  Deadwood, the most profane miniseries I have ever seen, was both beautifully made and suffered poverty in its dialogue.  Fuckety-fuckety-fuckety.  Noel Coward it is not. 

Q: Do you have an idea in the works that you’d like to see as a series.

A: Half a dozen which I won’t tell you about because they’re not yet as finished as I’d like.  If you want to see some of my orphan ideas, which have never seen light of day, go to www.tonymorphett.com and click Bottom Drawer then Miniseries and/or Episodic. 

It’s a heart-breaking old town, is it not?

Q: What is a project you’re working on currently?

A: Several, with several producers.  Also a science fiction novel which is a sequel to my Starship Home, now available as an Amazon Kindle eBook if I may for a moment indulge in blatant self-advertisement.

Q: As a female, I’m curious to find out whether the actresses in Australia have the same problems as in Hollywood.  That is, there are too many actresses (more women than men study drama) and not enough leading roles.

A: I think it’s the same here.  What may change it is the trend for more and more women becoming heads of drama and/or development.  This has come about, I think, because for several decades women have become producers, script producers and script editors for TV writing.  Sue Masters, Caroline Stanton, Susan Bower, sister of the late great Lynn Bayonas. She was also distinguished in this field. Kim Wilson, the list goes on and on. Having said that there are some women who bring audiences with then. To name a few,  Lisa McCune, Asher Keddie, Rebecca Gibney, Claudia Karvan and Essie Davis, currently tearing up the set as Phryne Fisher.  She’s had an Olivier Award for Best Supporting Actress, and a Tony nomination.  She was the stand-out actor in The Slap, and I’d happily watch her read the phone book.  These are genuine stars in television

 Q: You’re an author of science fiction novels too.  What do you think will be some of the things we’ll see in the future?

Technology changes but human nature remains the same.  In the 50’s, it was a convention in SF that computers would get bigger and bigger – sometimes planet sized.  The chairman of IBM once said that there was maybe a market for 5 computers to service the world. These would be 30 ton Godzillas.Then Jobs and Wozniak put together the  personal computer and couldn’t get Atari and Hewlett Packard to come aboard.  Then Facebook came along and I thought it was a campus fad. Kid stuff. 

Then Twitter and I thought “what can you say in 140 letters or less?”  1984 and Brave New World were once thought of as either/or visions of the future but it turns out that both Orwell and Huxley were right.  For me, the best SF tells speculative stories in exotic, imagined  locations.  It’s like historical fiction played out in imaginary worlds.

But I wouldn’t bet the house on any of it coming true.  

Thank you Tony for agreeing to this interview, and providing such insightful answers about your experience in TV writing.

-Eda Utku

by Michele Wallerstein

If those scripts are sitting in your house or are being read by your nearest and dearest friends and family you are still just playing a game. That’s fine if you are having fun and just puttering around. If, on the other hand, you sincerely want a career in the film trade, you aren’t anywhere close to fulfilling your dream.

The motion picture industry is a powerful business that involves millions and millions of dollars, the livelihoods of thousands of people and entertainment to millions of people all over the world. Each film is like a whole new business venture of its own. To produce a film a company needs to have and to hire executive staff, lawyers, producers, directors, actors, wardrobe people, scenic designers, stage crews, editors, assistants, camera crews, artists, builders, drivers, travel agents, coordinators, animal wranglers and hundreds of other people for their staff and filming.

All of these people make their living by being involved in something you create. Once you realize the importance of filmmaking in the overall context of business and the world economy, you might take it a bit more seriously.

It feels great to have finished a screenplay and you are sure it is the greatest script ever written; but how do you really know that? You think it’s different and unusual and that no one has ever done this type of script before. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s worth that $1million payday that you keep hearing about. Maybe it’s just a good script that doesn’t really have a specific audience. Maybe your main character isn’t on every page. You’ll never know the truth about the salability of your work until you get it into the mainstream.

What you do after you’ve written that script is just as important as the writing itself.

You’ll never know the truth about the salability of your work until you get it into the mainstream.

I’ve spent years listening to people complain about the difficulties of getting an agent or selling a script to Hollywood. We aren’t talking about apples and oranges. We are talking about diamonds that must be as perfect as possible before the major players will even consider looking at them.

The reason for that is that they see too many bad apples and oranges. They hear writers rave to them about their great projects and then those writers send in half finished scripts that have poor grammar, inarticulate sentences, poor character development and an unclear plot or no real plot at all.

The professionals that you crave to meet are hard working people who spend 24/7 on their jobs. They eat, drink and sleep the business of films. They read a tremendous amount of material and they are constantly searching for that perfect diamond. When they find it they pounce. These folks are not trying to dodge you for the fun of it.

They need referrals because that means that someone they trust has already read the material and liked it. They need to hear a pitch so that they can get the gist of the idea and to see if you are a credible person. They need a great query letter that shows off your writing and thinking skills and that sets you apart from the other 100 query letters they received that day.

They read a tremendous amount of material and they are constantly searching for that perfect diamond.

OK, so much for my tirade about the vicissitudes of show business. Now you want answers and I will give them to you. I warn you to only read further if you are committed to a screenwriting career. Otherwise you will argue and disbelieve this missive.

Rule #1 is to move to the greater Los Angeles area. Would you expect to be a farmer in the middle of New York City? Would you try to work on auto assembly lines in Florida? Would you try to be a deep sea fisherman in Oklahoma? You have to be where the business is.

Even if you only rent a tiny apartment, share it with three other people and spend half of your time in L.A., it will pay-off big time. You will be where the action is. You will be able to join groups, volunteer for committees at the Writers Guild, meet people in the industry on a social basis, attend lots and lots of industry events, panels, seminars, luncheons, etc. Los

Angeles is where the person sitting at the next table at Starbuck’s is the agent you need to speak with. It’s where all the waiters are actors and know someone in the film industry. It’s where the movie studios are, the agencies are and the management companies are. Where are you?

Rule #2 is to have a body of work before you even begin to think about trying to get an agent or sell a script. Writing one screenplay is fine, but it is only a drop in the bucket. No one has ever written a perfect screenplay the first time out of the box.

Writing takes practice, lots and lots of practice. Each screenplay you write will be better than the last one. The same rules apply to you as they do to any other line of work. Whether you are a writer or a brain surgeon or you work on an assembly line, you will be better at your job after you’ve done it for some time. The agents and executives who are looking for new material and new talented writers don’t expect to find someone who is expecting miracles after one script. They want people who are dedicated to their craft and have at lease three or four excellent pieces to show.

Rule #3 is to learn your craft. Take writing courses, go to seminars, sign up for on-line writing classes, buy all of those wonderful books, and audio and video tapes of great writing experts and listen to them faithfully. Read as many screenplays as you can get your hands on. Read books… old and new. Learn from John Grisham and Jane Austen. Watch all of the movies that are available to you on Netflix, On-Demand, at Blockbuster, at your local video rental store and in the theatres. Check out the information in the Sunday Calendar section every week.

Make notes on which production companies are producing certain types of films and see what movies are making the most money. Subscribe to screenwriter magazine and read them carefully. Use the script consultants that are available to you. They will help you know if you are on the right track and if your work is ready to be seen by pros. The point is to be knowledgeable about your chosen field. You can’t write in a vacuum. You must know about the business you are trying to enter. This type of research will be invaluable to you.

Always bear in mind that you are in the business of entertaining and enlightening vast numbers of people all over the world. It is a huge responsibility and takes a great deal of work and commitment. This is also a profoundly rewarding career. Not only is the money great but there is also a wonderful elation attached to getting one or more of your films produced. You will enjoy the excitement of being acquainted with smart and interesting people in Hollywood and of being a part of their community.

If you have what it takes… Hollywood will find you

-Michele Wallerstein

Michele Wallertstein has been a literary agent in Hollywood for many years.

Michele has represented some of the top writers, directors and producers in the industry. Her clients have written numerous motion pictures, television movies and television series.

Photo Credits: Stock XChng

Jamie Campbell

Jamie Campbell is an author, screenwriter, and television addict.

Jamie is proud to be an Editor for The Story Department.

Her latest series Project Integrate is out now.

jamiecampbell.com.au

This is what I’m getting myself into. I spotted this constructive feedback on a music video I wrote and directed last month. Having given this a fair amount of thought, I still haven’t quite figured out what the person who posted this was thinking when they wrote it.

by Ben Cox

“Probably the gayest clip ever made.” Really? The gayest ever? I dunno, perhaps it was meant as a compliment? I mean, the gayest clip ever would be a hell of an achievement. I just wish they hadn’t prefixed it with probably, keeping me in a perpetual cloud of doubt. What do they even mean by “gayest”? I’m so confused, annoyed and hurt.

Ok, that’s not true. I did give this some thought but not because it bothered me. I gave it thought because my reaction was to smile, and I began thinking about how I came to a place where it became such a positive relationship in my life. I think criticism is an essential part of writing, not just because of what can be gained from it, but also because it’s so unavoidable.

criticism is an essential part of writing,
not just because of what can be gained from it,
but also because it’s so unavoidable

You see, my relationship with criticism is an important one, not just with YouTube hate mongers or bloggers, critics or reviewers. It’s also a huge part of being a writer. Meeting with script editors, producers, directors are a part of everyday life, and they all have an opinion. Actually, everyone has an opinion don’t they? Just about every friend or family member with a suggestion on how they would have done it. It’s something that’s unique to writers I think because you’re essentially trading in ideas, and everyone has ideas.

I’m currently a freelance writer/director with 7 short films and 4 music videos in my credits. I specialize in ‘outside the box’ thinking and have yet to meet an idea I didn’t think I could turn into something entertaining. Despite this I’m quite sensitive by nature, so criticism has never been easy for me to deal with. It mixes interestingly with my hypercompetitive nature as well.

It’s easy to take criticism personally. To sulk and dwell on it no matter how many people also tell you they really like something you’ve created. We’ve all been there, and yet so many of us spend our time worrying about the negative feedback whilst brushing off the positive. The whole process can be debilitating. So why do I like it so much? My personality type certainly shouldn’t lead to me being good with criticism, and years of coping with it very badly as a teenager don’t suggest I should enjoy it.

So many of us spend our time worrying about the negative feedback
whilst brushing off the positive

However.

Although criticism can be crippling, it can also be liberating. When I’m sat in front of a notepad or laptop and debating whether I should write that thing which might really annoy/upset someone or their friend might think it’s rubbish, why am I doing that to myself? I have no control over how other people choose to consume something I did, so why worry about it? It’s the same as when I’m on a plane, why worry if something might go wrong? It’s out of my hands. That’s such a great feeling to have. As a writer I spend so much of my life trying to control things, my characters, my plot, my turning point two, that it’s nice to know there are things I can’t control, and don’t have to, so I don’t try to.

If you’re no longer worried about the response from your audience,
what you’re left with is whatever your imagination can come up with

Freedom from criticism is also freedom from expectation. If you’re no longer worried about the response from your audience, what you’re left with is whatever your imagination can come up with. That’s about as exciting a place as you can hope to be in. For me, this is what allows me to write from the heart about whatever I want to.

And as for that comment. It’s quite funny in an ironic way isn’t it?

You can decide for yourself here:

– Ben

After gaining his B.A in English Literature at Loughborough University, Ben Cox spent 4 years as a musician, playing bass in the band Kyte, touring internationally and releasing a top 5 selling album in Japan.

He left the group to pursue a career as a director and writer.

Since graduating from the International Film School Sydney in 2012, he has written and directed three music videos.

Photo Credits: Ben Cox