Script Tales: “The AVL Commitment” (Part 1)

If you’ve been following along with my scriptwriting series, you now know that a script can be almost anything, as long as it provides a blueprint to tell a story. Words, interviews, sounds, music and of course pictorial descriptions are all fair game. Pacing notes are fair game.  Stylistic comments (Quick paced montage of team building the house)” are fair game.

Which brings me to writing about in some detail the story of the “AVL Commitment” script.

Working for AVL is a bit like an actor or comedian being asked to host an awards show. It’s a great honor, there are limited opportunities, and you can make or break your career. There are smart producers that avoid this kind of thing entirely. But at Sorgel-Lee, we had made our reputation on high-risk ventures. Impossible situations. Tough clients. Drunk and impatient audiences. The type of situations that put you on the map or erased you forever. The type of situations where clients could get a major bonus, a promotion and a raise, or be shunned out of existence. Yes, there were some bumps in the night, but for the most part we had succeeded in working ourselves onto the national scene as a “regional leader” in the audio-visual multi-image business.

Multi-image was the adopted name of the creation of “shows” or “events” or “spectaculars” through the use of multiple slide projectors, animation stand special effects, sophisticated soundtracks and a major piece of computer equipment to tie all of that together into something that was often called a “film” or a “slide-movie” because the music and words matched the picture. It wasn’t film, but the use of multiple slide projectors and carefully photographed sequences gave the impression that it was.

The leqding provider of this kind of equipment was a company called “Audio Visual Laboratories, or AVL. There were other companies, but theres always a number one– a company cloer to the user, more clever in engineering and marketing, and m=better at customer service, and for many producers money (which wasn’t all that much money– thus wasn’t Hollywood, after all) AVL was the choice for people who wanted to do more, satisfy their own creative urges, and make audiences “eyes fall out”.

Being asked by AVL to produce a demo show for their equipment was equivalent to a coronation. Of course, you had to deliver  And a handful of great in the multi-image industry (oh yes, it WAS an industry) had: Richard Shipps, Dough Mezney, Chris Karody, Duffy  and Sherry White. New York, LA, Denver, Detroit.

Why would they ask a couple of guys from Milwaukee to do their next show?

They didn’t.

We had already won a couple of “AMI’s” at the annual Association for Multi-Image” awards banquets, so our name was somewhat known.

With that under our belt, plus other at-home “Big Show” successes, we decided that if they weren;t going to call us, we’d call them. We’d had our picture on the cover of our industry magazine, I was a monthly columnist writing about computers in that same magazine, and Ric was working up the food chain to be president of AMI. Why not?

But we needed an angle. We needed to do what we did best. We didn’t want to just show off equipment with nifty programming tricks, we wanted to tell a story. The AVL story.

So we pitched it, the old fashioned way.

We called Randy Klein  then Vice President of Marketing at AVL, and suggested that we had something important to discuss with him– a marketing proposition.

“Go ahead”, he said, perhaps sarcastically  since he was nestled in New Jersey on the east coast near the Big Apple and were in, well, Milwaukee.

No, we told him, we have to do it in person.

Flights back then were plentiful cheap, and not the hassle thay are today– you could get in and out in a day if you had to. We had some business in New York; we had been working for AT&T and Playboy’s Fashion Magazine, and I was finding whatever excuse I could to go back home.

We took a North Central Airlines Jet to Newark, rented a car, and drove down the Turnpike, then the Garden State, to exit 117, which said “Keyport / Aberdeen”, but was also the gateway to the shore, and Atlantic Highlands, Monmouth County, New Jersey.

We arrived at the AVL Headquarters, which at that time was an old abandoned grade-school building. AVL’s operations were actually spread over three locations. There was another space on Atlantic Highlands main street, where engineering and manufacturing took place, and a location in the San Francisco area where manufacturing and engineering took place as well. (That location would become significant later, for another story.)

We had written one of our classic proposals– Who What Why, How, and Whats in it for me, the client.

As usual by that time in our careers, I started by reading, then let enthusiasm take over as I went into the ad-hoc, from the heart, Don Draper-at his-best pitch.

Sold.

A minuscule budget was set, and we came home triumphant, although smarter folks on staff (including Linda Duczman and Tim Dodge) were probably thinking “What are we in for… that’s a budget?!”

But we were looking at this from a marketing perspective. There would be no argument now that we could stand head and shoulders with the biggies in New York and LA– if we pulled it off.

 NEXT: Developing and writing the script.

It Was 46 Years ago Today: Pet Sounds

For four years, the Beach Boys were America’s top-selling band, cruising as it were on surf songs, car songs, romantic ballads, and incredible harmonies and arrangements. That might have been enough for most bands– and in fact, often was.

And the Beach Boys might have faded into a nostalgia act (which they later self-imposed during a 80′s nostalgia craze) except for the release on May 19, 1966 of Pet Sounds.

Although he was their main writer / arranger, this can truly be called the first “Brian Wilson” album.

Except for the the instrumental “Pet Sounds”, it would be hard to call this a carefree, upbeat, “sun, sand and surf” BB album. It took the introspective tones of “Sandy”, “In the Back of My Mind”, “Warmth of the Sun”, and “California Girls” (think about it) and brought them into a universe so layered and lush that at first you heard music, not lyrics. Then on second listening (almost always immediately after the first listening) you begin to get the message. “I’m growing up. I have doubts. I’m losing my innocence. I have dreams. I sometimes feel defeated. I sometimes want for love. I want to be somebody.”

Yes, there was “Sloop John B.”. their most recent hit. So skip that if you want.

But the rest of Pet Sounds belonged together, sequenced eternally as Side A then Side B, ending with the etnernally depressing but beautiful “Caroline, No”, actually eventually released as a Brian Wilson single 45. (I found it at Woolco in a cut-out bin).

Go to Amazon ot iTunes and buy it and download it, if you don’t already have a frayed, scratched album or previous CD reissue. It was released in mono, but there are versions (including the current release) of Pet Sounds remastered in real stereo by the genius engineer Mark Linnett who was nominated for a Grammy for the wonderful Pet Sounds Sessions boxed set.

If you want to know a person ask them their favorite recording. This is mine. I was 17 years old.

“AVSquad” History of Sorgel-Lee and Slide Era Reposted

Fifteen years ago, on the Brien Lee Creative Solutions webpage, I wrote a ten-chapter or so history of my first ten years in the a-v /slide / video business, and entitled it “The AVSquad”.

Somewhere along the line, I figured it had enough exposure and retired it.

Now, after quite a few requests (seriously) I’m re-posting it here on the Brien Lee page, under the menu item “The AVSquad (Early History).

It is virtually unchanged, which means you can view it in all its lo-res glory, and simple html goodness. I have added a few links to media files where appropriate, and I will add more as I digitize them.

Because this was written 15 years ago, I had the advantage of a mid-40 year old’s memory. So in re-reading it, I re-remembered what I had forgotten.

Big ideas are often thought of simultaneously across the country or around the world. Ric Sorgel and Brien Lee weren’t the only guys who though doing slide shows for a living would be a good idea. What makes this interesting, I guess, is how closely this reflects the state of technology and the state of some creative minds back in 1972. And let’s not forget the state of the economy back then. Pretty rotten, which as I have said many times, is the best time to start a business.

Hint, hint.

Corporate Video Scriptwriting 102: Write it Out Loud

“What you’re reading here is meant to be read, not heard. So my words must do all the work. The writing is necessarily complete, formal, and structured like the sentences we diagrammed in grade school. Each sentence has a subject, verb, and object.”

If you read the sentence above aloud, you’ll find that it sounds like a lecture, not a conversation. It’s simply not the way people speak (except maybe your college professor.)

That’s because those words are written for eye, not the ear.

It’s simply the biggest mistake would be scriptwriters make. Because writing involves, well, writing, they write like they’ve been taught to write… as if they were writing a letter, or an essay.

Let’s say that the person writing the script does know how to write for video. They know the end result is not words on a page, or text boxes, or PowerPoint slides. It is an audio-visual melange, made up of visuals, music, graphics and words. And a picture is worth a thousand words, at the very least.

So the writer goes about the task differently. He or she writes “out loud“, visualizing what will be seen, heard, and said. Visualizing what parts of the story can be told purely visually, what parts of the story can rely on music to deliver impact, and what parts of the story need text on the screen, or when necessary, word written to be heard… out loud.

What do we mean by writing out loud?

Simple. Open your mouth and read what you’re putting on the screen. If it sounds convoluted or wordy, it is. If you need oxygen to read it, it’s too long. If it is so convolutedly complete in its coverage of every concept and fact, it’s a guaranteed video fail.

If you’re not sure from looking at the words you’ve put on the page are right for the ear, there’s only one way to tell– read them out loud.

Is your face turning red as you realize the pain the audience will be going through? Good for you– you’ve at least got a sense of self-conciousness, and an ability to feel shame.

Does your reading out loud allow you to hear music where there are no words, and envision picture sequences, sounds, interview voice clips, and animations that become part of the audience experience simply guided or led by the words?

Bingo.

When I started in this business, my job was the words and the soundtrack. I wrote the words, and I cobbled together music, words, sound effects, and interviews on two Sony 2-track recorders. We didn’t have an office, just a one bedroom walkup apartment in Milwaukee. And that bedroom had one closet.

I was just married, and just starting the business, and after I wrote the script, I had to narrate it by reading the words into the tape recorder. I was terribly self-conscious, so for that reason, and for better acoustics (this is Wisconsin– there were plenty of wool coats in the closet) I brought my tape recorder, microphone, a flashlight and words on paper into the closet. Doing my best “annoucer” voice, I began to read.

Within a minute my face was read, and I had stopped the tape.

This didn’t sound like Ed McMahon, Don Pardo, Dick Clark, Betty Furness, Kate Smith, Garry Moore, Durward Kirby, Arthur Godfrey, or any of the other great pitch-people of my father’s generation. It sounded like– like– a bunch of words!

I turned on the TV. I watched Ed McMahon, Arthur Godfrey, and others pitch products. There weren’t a lot of visuals  but the product was always prominent, along with simple graphics and the pitchman or woman. The person on screen sometimes did a demonstration, and sometimes just, well, talked., like he or she was leaning over your shoulder as you ironed or folded clothes (this was before two career families became the norm). And the “out-loud” words were succinct, brief, to the point, and not always in complete sentences. Just like a conversation.

Arthur Godfrey Time-C U

If you’re under 40, you may have no idea who Arthur Godfrey was. But he was big. He was a CBS TV and radio personality who defined that term. He was a talker, singer, ukelele player, daily TV and radio variety show host, and pitchman. People paid Arthur big bucks to get behind their products. He was known for ad-libbing a lot of his endorsements, the best known of which, in the fifties, was Lipton soup, which he would slowly savor in front of you from his panel discussion hosting desk on his daily morning tv show.

As daytime variety shows faded, and game shows and soap operas dominated the airwaves, Arthur was still busy, making movie cameos and endorsing products in commercials– although, to his credit, he was selective on which products he would risk his well-earned reputation of trust.

In the late 60′s, he was paid to introduce a new product via a series of commercials– the first laundry  ”enzyme pre-soak”– Axion.

His conversation, simple demonstration pitches were classic and sold tons of the stuff. Watch:[pb_vidembed title="Arthur Godfrey Introduces Axion" caption="" url="http://vimeo.com/55230386" type="vem" w="480" h="385"]

His use of conversational language and “you and me” familiarity is phenomenal. “Look,”, “uh-huh”. “Someone got punched in the nose”, “it would take an hour and a half to explain it to you, take it from me it works.”

Hell, his magic logo reveal is pulling a piece of tape off the box!

I’m not proposing minimalistic production values a a solution to communications complexities. I am proposing that the use of human conversational language in a medium partially intended  for the ear is a pre-requisite for corporate communications success.

Arthur GodfreyA good story, credibility, and decent visual proof. That’s at the heart of a successful product or image story.

By the way, Godfrey, an environmentalist, eventually stopped doing Axion commercials when he found out that the sponsors had withheld some information fron him: Enzyme action got clothes clean, but made rivers and streams a problem for wildlife.

The Corporate Communications Choice: Creativity or Committee

Let me first say that I’ve been around the block. If I were a tree, I’d have 62 rings… Of hell.

And in February, I’ll have been doing this– this being creating visual communications projects– for 40 years. Slide Shows, museum events, audio-visual theater in the round, multi-screen extravaganzas, video in all its permutations, wide screen meetings, business theater, web video, interactive DVD’s, you name it. (Go ahead name it– I’ll wait—- yup, did that too.)

So, I’ve created a lot of media. Yes, that was my job. Create. Analyze a communications need, through research, meetings, reading, talking and listening, and finally, offering a solution that would accomplish the change necessary. I was right on the money about 94% of the time (that’s an educated guess; I’m guessing I was probably involved in nearly 1000 various projects throughout the years, some as a creative director, sone as writer, some hands on. Generally, because I either owned the company producing, or because I was a high level executive with the company producing, I had final responsibility for sduccess or failure. I took that pretty seriously.

But not always. Contract corporate communications– where a company executive or a communications or video department executive hires outside assistance– is a very complex thing. Some companies have media departments that produce much of what they do internally and hire out turnkey responsibility only occasionally. Others develop a relationship with a producer (or to make it even more complex, an ad agency) and rely on them to create solutions and accept responsibility, which CAN be two different things.

Corporates can choose to be their own producer– hire a writer, shooter, editor, graphics, editor, etc. Or they can hire me (alright, and thousands of other like me.)

When my partner Ric Sorgel and I began, we had the advantage of being early adopters of a technology– slide shows. But out love of the technology did not blind us to wanting to just play with the toys. We wanted to make complete, stand-alone, hey ma, we did this ourselves shows. The technology was so new (and the budgets compared to 16mm film so enticing to potential clients) that we were busy almost from the start. The clients– had no idea what we did or ow we did it, they only knew the end result. Despite our having conceived, outlined, written, shot, done interviews, created soundtracks and edited them altogether, the clients first question after applauding the show was– “What camera did you use?”

I wonder if Hemingway ever got the question, “What typewriter do you use?”

This syndrome continues to today. Avid or Final Cut? Red or Canon DSLR? Mac or PC?  Final Draft or Movie Magic Screenwriter? (or Word with two columns?)

The questions are more complicated because video has become part of the language of communications, movable type was to the book. And the tools of video are more affordable. Thus, everyone’s a director / shooter, everyone’s a producer, everyone’s a creative. And almost anything can be seen by anyone… i.e., YouTube.

But pens and pencils and typewriters were used for many things– grocery lists, love letters, invoices, instruction manuals, summons, and, yes, novels, great and not-so-great. So, was the grocery list writer considered an “author?” Is anyone with a camera or web access a “creative?”

Add to that the interactive world– iPhones, Twitter, SMS, GotoMeeting/Seminar.com, chat groups on Facebook and LinkedIn, and we can be connected all the time! We can live, therefore, in a virtual committee. I’m not talking about production teams, where everyone has a specific role.

I’m talking about virtual groupthink, where quiet time vanishes and creative ideas are ground by a group of peers into sausage. I know, you like sausage, but is it really good for you?

There is a way to be successful on both sides of the fence in corporate communications. I’ve made enough mistakes to know how. In these pages, over the next few months, I’ll share– wait, I hate that word– I’ll provide– for free– ideas on how to avoid the sausage of creativity and allow the prime grade AAA meat  to sizzle.

 

Huh?

Oh– what this is about.

Well, I began doing creative stuff for pay on February 1st, 1972. I have a few thoughts on how to encourage, develop, nurture, sustain and even monetize the creative soul in or for a corporate environment.

I also have some ideas on how to add creative secret sauce to our videos, whether you work in-house, on contract, or for your own devilish purposes.

So, excelsior! Let’s learn from each other!

But no committees.