Tyler Gibb – Writer, Director, Editor, Filmmaker

I write a lot. And as any follower of this weblog knows, I also produce as much of that writing as I can into movies (however modest). But the scale will forever be tipped in favour of the amount of writing I do versus the amount of independent movies I produce on my own.

Only recently have I started approaching others. Others who may be helpful in turning these words on a page into pictures on a screen.

And I know I have a lot to offer. Literally, in terms of sheer quantity of writing; I have a lot of material to offer. After all, unlike most, I’m able to write full time. All day long, everyday of the week – not many are as fortunate. I thought this was an asset. Points in my favour. If someone in the industry were to ask me, “what are you working on?” I could easily ramble off the log lines to half a dozen projects I’ve been polishing over the past few months. Let alone an arsenal of material still undeveloped. How impressive I must seem to these curators of content!

No.

No, it’s only recently come to my attention that I may not look that way at all. See the guy with a ton of scripts lying around kinda looks like the guy who has nothing of value.

There’s an industry expectation when it comes to writers. Or perhaps the perception of an industry expectation. It goes like this: Writers are poor, lazy, alcoholic procrastinators, who work day jobs in video stores and devote very little time to actually writing. So if you show up to the party with half a dozen scripts, people think – damn, if you’ve got that many screenplays under your belt, how come I’ve never heard of you?

So I get it. It makes sense from this traditional viewpoint. Trouble is, there’s nothing traditional about entertainment any more. You can spend all your days writing and never pitching and wind up with a surplus simply because you like to produce as much of it on your own as you can. You can quietly amass thousands, even millions of fans of your work without ever making a blip on the radar of traditional entertainment.

But it doesn’t matter. When it comes to pitching my wares, I’m viewed as a writer. Even though I’m ambitious, don’t drink, only procrastinate doing things I hate (like a normal person) and haven’t worked in a video store since I was 21. It doesn’t matter to them. And I’m not here to change any one’s mind. I mean, sure, I’ll bitch about it on my own website but when it comes to getting the meeting you want to get, it’s all about accepting terms. Compromising. Adapting.

So I’ve amended my approach. You don’t want to hear about a range of possibilities. You don’t want choices. You don’t want surprises or new points of view. You just want something good. So “what am I working on?” Just one thing: The best fucking script you’ll ever read.

A few years ago I was in the market for a new car. I heard an interesting piece of advice at the time about selecting the car’s colour:

Go with silver. Statistically, more people want silver cars so if you buy a car you should buy a silver one to ensure greater resale value.

This notion amused me at the time. I thought it was an interesting little tid bit.

That was then. About ten years ago. Flash forward to today and I’m stuck in traffic on my way to a meeting. Something strikes me. Every car, for as far as I can see, is silver. That is, except for mine. I opted for green in the end. Now, a tasteful rusty green, as it is.

People like silver. Is that right? Do you? Is that why most cars are grey now? Yeah, grey, let’s not jazz it up more than we have, we’re talking about grey cars. When was the last time you asked a kid what their favourite colour was and they said “grey”?

I wonder how many filmmakers and broadcasters have been heeding the same advice I received those many years ago; Go with silver.

Grey. Play it safe.

True, I’m not really bringing anything new to the “have you noticed movies kind of suck these days” conversation. But the car thing is a pretty good analogy, isn’t it?

But lets take a look a bit farther down the road (sorry): If all our cars are silver now, then that kind of renders resale value moot, doesn’t it? Likewise, if all our movies are just remakes or unwatchable adaptations of nostalgic children’s toys, how are you going to resell that? At what point does the safe grey get so watered down and washed out that you’re left with… Well a really, really pale grey?

This isn’t supposed to sound pessimistic. Does it sound pessimistic? Because I think that’s actually a day to look forward to. A day when grey has nothing left to offer.

That’s going to be a good day for colour. A good day for rusty green.

The all-seeing arm of YouTube reached out to me recently to notify me of some comments being made on one of my cartoon shorts.

I felt compelled to weigh in:

chris86753091: this video is stupid i hope the persons how mad it die in a fiery and drowing death

kirikakirikakirika: It’s not like he physically hurt anyone. There are worse things than this video and what you’re wishing on the creator is 10 times worse than this.

And anyway, he’s rich now and living quite comfortably.

TylerGibb:  I’m rich now?

kirikakirikakirika: Aren’t you the one who created Boneland?

TylerGibb: I am. And if you’re referring to “rich” in the sense that I have a wealth of family and friends, then I suppose I can’t complain. And it’s true I live quite comfortably, but that’s just because I’m wearing pajamas.

Champagne for my real fans and real pain for my sham fans. Thanks for watching.

kirikakirikakirika: I meant rich as in money, though. My friend told me that the creator of Boneland made millions. Although, he likes to tell tall tales.

(My favourite part is the fiery and drowning death. The visual of this troglodytic illiterate, so vehemently riled by my idiotic animation, that he’s stumbling over his keyboard to comment is just magical. Here’s the cartoon in case you haven’t had the pleasure.)

Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything. I like the notion that maybe there’s a Parallel Universe Tyler out there who actually did make millions with his Bizarro Boneland website. Even the idea that somewhere out there tall tales are being spun of my legendary wealth does give me a smile.

What happened to us, Internet? We used to be so tight.

I know, I know… It’s all this social networking. Things were cooler when the web was still anti-social.

*Sigh*

C’est la vie.

Well, I’m off to take a money bath.

If I opened a bottle of champagne every time I finished writing a script I’d be an alcoholic.

Just faded out the latest. I’ve been calling it my blockbuster. In that, all I really mean is that it’s a “big” movie. Far too big – too expensive – to be considered realistically achievable on any indie level. Or Canadian level – that’s not a measure of quality, just a fact, settle down.

It’s not something I’m used to writing. And that may just be a good thing. They say you’ve got to dress for the job you want, not the job you have. This doesn’t apply to writers because we have neither fashion sense, nor money for clothes. So I say write for the job you want, not the job you have.

How do I look?

I was rolling along in my trusty wagon the other day, brainstorming.

Well, “brainstorming” makes my thought process sound more organized than it actually is. When I’m really keyed up about an idea – and I’m alone – I tend to get a little carried away.

I’m talking lip movement here. Maybe – maybe – sound effects. Kind of like watching a four year old playing with Lego except a 35 year old sitting at a red light making explosion sounds.

Then I realized something. I’ve been going astray recently. I’ve been writing one way. The right way. The correct way. Fifty pages into a script that calls for action and drama and pizazz and I’m writing it like a recipe book. It was all wrong. As soon as I got the wagon home I started re-writing.

This time I wrote it as if I was in the car. At that red light. Making the sound effects.

Fuck, that works so much better. That’s fun writing. And fun reading. That’s energy. That’s pizazz.

People who have a hard time with it, have often said to me “I can’t write. How do you write?” And I’ve always told them if you can talk, you can write. And I always meant it. But I guess it’s been a long time since I’ve taken that advice myself. No more.

Psssshhhhhhoooooo… Prrrgggghhhh!