Aw!
I mean and talented and awesome and all that too.
The meeting we all work towards... Page 3
Yeah, right.
Quote: Keith Rees @ October 26 2008, 1:21 AM BSTYeah, right.
I dooo!
I'm extremely impressed by any success in getting TV made. And yours sounds pretty much like the pinnacle of anything any of us lot want to happen to us.
Quote: Keith Rees @ October 26 2008, 12:40 AM BSTMy experience.....
1, Send in a script.
2, three month gap.
3, told the beeb liked it and would be in touch.
4, three month gap.
5, Asked to a meeting. Asked to re-write first few scenes in a month.
6, three month gap.
7, Asked to another meeting. Asked to re-write remaning scenes in a
month.
8, Six month gap.
9, Beeb like it.
10, three month gap
11, Asked to make slight alterations in a few days....
12, commission.
13, given dates for final deadline for more changes.
14, recording arranged.
15, recording.
16, few weeks gap.
17, TX....Horray!!
18, Payment.
19, Next project.
A rare and wondrous story. And BBC Wales has some good stuff which should really be out there for the rest of us. And will be if Russell T has anything to do with it.
I used to love a Welsh sitcom called High Hopes, when my old TV used to pick up one of the Welsh channels. Does anyone remember this?
Quote: Lee Henman @ October 25 2008, 9:08 PM BSTYes, we met at a gay Salsa club where he wowed me with his fancy footwork and liquid hips. We danced the night away, and then, under that pale August moonlight, we made hot sweet monkey love.
Not really. Basically a well-known production company thought we had similar writing styles and threw us together in the hope we might write something cool.
We did our best and they liked it and filmed a 10 minute-ish taster for Channel 4. 'Twas good fun and a bit surreal and now we wait and see if C4 want it or not.
In actual fact, it was as part of my charity work that I met Lee. When I'm not writing or digging wells I run a day care centre for the mentally compulsive. It was there that I met a Northern man, basically made of potatoes, that turned out to be Lee Henman. I learned that his compulsion manifests itself as an obsessive urge to pen dick gags. It seems that one day, upon realising that the expression "dick gag" is a double entendre in itself, Lee's mind became snared in a synaptic loop - a kind of cock joke moebius strip. Luckily for Lee, I was on hand to rescue him from his predicament. Presenting his unique case to the highbrows at Channel 4 Television, I was awarded a medal of honour and a letter of recommendation redeemable with any good UK producer. Lee's condition has since been put to good use penning nob-themed sketches and he is now some way to becoming a fully functioning member of society, with his own shoes and a Spaniel.
An almost accurate summary.
In actual fact I met the Bussell when I was working as a missionary in Papua New Guinea. He had fashioned himself as leader of the Ngonki Tribe, a race of cannibalistic dwarves. The instant they saw his long legs and thin frame, they assumed he was their ancient leader The Great Flamingo God and took him to their hearts. Bussell took advantage of their trust and ruled over them with an iron fist, violating many Ngonki virgins and siring countless bastard cannibal / flamingo hybrid children.
Of course I could not allow this to continue and captured him by dressing up in a grass skirt and presenting my bottom to him. Thinking I was another cannibal virgin to ravish, he stumbled forward into the bear trap I had prepared, and he was mine.
For many months we sailed back to England, and during that Hellish journey I taught Bussell the rudimentaries of the English language. One day as he clipped my toenails on the poopdeck, I uttered one of my most favoured witticisms, "While you're down there". A brief expression of recognition, then amusement flickered over Bussell's face. And yes, then a smile. I had done it! I had actually taught this Godless savage the basic principal of British humour; The Knob Gag.
Upon our return, we docked at Portsmouth and I released the Bussell from his shackles. I had expected him to immediately bolt for freedom, but touchingly, he lingered a moment as if loathe to leave his master. Yes, he was a savage, but during those long months at sea we had forged a relationship not unlike a Shepherd and his faithful dog. I laid my hand upon his narrow shoulder and bid a fond farewell to this strange, gangling creature. As he tore off his clothes and ran off into the night in search of fresh virgins, I could not help but shed a tear. Not for myself, but for him. I truly believed that if he had stayed within my councel for a while longer, perhaps I could have taught him how to speak...and who knows, perhaps even one day how to write.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Quote: Lee Henman @ October 26 2008, 12:03 PM BSTand who knows, perhaps even one day how to write.
Ha! Yeah!
My experience.....
1, Send in a script.
2, three month gap.
3, told the beeb liked it and would be in touch.
4, three month gap.
5, Asked to a meeting. Asked to re-write first few scenes in a month.
6, three month gap.
7, Asked to another meeting. Asked to re-write remaning scenes in a
month.
8, Six month gap.
9, Beeb like it.
10, three month gap
11, Asked to make slight alterations in a few days....
12, commission.
13, given dates for final deadline for more changes.
14, recording arranged.
15, recording.
16, few weeks gap.
17, TX....Horray!!
18, Payment.
19, Next project.
So you don't get paid until tramnsmission?
I thought you got paid upon commission.
I writer could starve otherwise.
Also... is there only a short span of time from commission to transmission?
On this occasion, payment was made after broadcast. On other occasions, you will get part payment on commission.
A lot of work was done without the promise of a commission. But if you can show me a writer who'll not do the work when someone is actively showing interest in a script, he must be very stupid or very rich. Again, on this occasion, I suppose the beeb wanted to make sure the script was right before spending any money.
Also it was a chance to meet Gareth Gwenlan, who's a very nice chap.
Oh right. Well, congrats, Keith.
What show was it?
For me it usually goes:
1. Send in script.
2. Rejected
I just keep thinking that if I never ever stop, I have to get somewhere someday.
Quote: Lee Henman @ October 26 2008, 12:03 PM BSTAn almost accurate summary.
In actual fact I met the Bussell when I was working as a missionary in Papua New Guinea. He had fashioned himself as leader of the Ngonki Tribe, a race of cannibalistic dwarves. The instant they saw his long legs and thin frame, they assumed he was their ancient leader The Great Flamingo God and took him to their hearts. Bussell took advantage of their trust and ruled over them with an iron fist, violating many Ngonki virgins and siring countless bastard cannibal / flamingo hybrid children.
Of course I could not allow this to continue and captured him by dressing up in a grass skirt and presenting my bottom to him. Thinking I was another cannibal virgin to ravish, he stumbled forward into the bear trap I had prepared, and he was mine.
For many months we sailed back to England, and during that Hellish journey I taught Bussell the rudimentaries of the English language. One day as he clipped my toenails on the poopdeck, I uttered one of my most favoured witticisms, "While you're down there". A brief expression of recognition, then amusement flickered over Bussell's face. And yes, then a smile. I had done it! I had actually taught this Godless savage the basic principal of British humour; The Knob Gag.
Upon our return, we docked at Portsmouth and I released the Bussell from his shackles. I had expected him to immediately bolt for freedom, but touchingly, he lingered a moment as if loathe to leave his master. Yes, he was a savage, but during those long months at sea we had forged a relationship not unlike a Shepherd and his faithful dog. I laid my hand upon his narrow shoulder and bid a fond farewell to this strange, gangling creature. As he tore off his clothes and ran off into the night in search of fresh virgins, I could not help but shed a tear. Not for myself, but for him. I truly believed that if he had stayed within my councel for a while longer, perhaps I could have taught him how to speak...and who knows, perhaps even one day how to write.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Not an entirely vivid recollection there I fear, Mr Henman. If you'll allow the scotch a few hours to bleed from your system you'll remember that it was in fact I that found you, a former Nazi war criminal, stood outside a Maplins wearing a nappy made of hobo bindles and playing a perforated accordian yelling at passers by that you were the second coming of Jill Dando.
Quote: David Bussell @ October 27 2008, 10:51 AM BSTNot an entirely vivid recollection there I fear, Mr Henman. If you'll allow the scotch a few hours to bleed from your system you'll remember that it was in fact I that found you, a former Nazi war criminal, stood outside a Maplins wearing a nappy made of hobo bindles and playing a perforated accordian yelling at passers by that you were the second coming of Jill Dando.
Damn you Bussell. You always have to bring that up don't you?
Quote: Mikey J @ October 27 2008, 9:21 AM BSTOh right. Well, congrats, Keith.
What show was it?
It was a pilot for a radio sitcom called My Little Eye. Radio Wales produced a series of six pilots, My Little Eye being one of them. It didn't get chosen to series though.