What happened to Clifford Meth’s column? Read it here
Editor’s note: This column, which was originally published at Comics Bulletin and which we pointed to on Friday, was taken down from their site yesterday. We’re a bit touchy when it comes to internet censorship and the hint of legal threats from movie people, so we asked Cliff what we could to do help. Clifford has graciously allowed us to republish the original column here, and he’ll be writing up a fuller explanation of what’s been going on tomorrow. –Glenn Hauman
“Welcome to Hollywood”
By Clifford Meth
I’ve been away from this column for so long that an explanation is in order. I’m tempted to say it was something like a summer vacation where, by virtue of missed flights, I didn’t come home for years…but the truth is I sank belly-deep into a myriad of projects, most of which were destined to fail. So before we go any further, let’s get some closure:
Dave Cockrum’s Futurians and I have been attached at the hip for what seems like a lifetime. Besides being a fan of the project, I penned a back-up story that Dave illustrated for Futurians #0 (1995, Aardwolf Publishing) then personally walked the intellectual property into Starz Entertainment (nee IDT Entertainment) a decade later. How excited was I—and how excited was Dave—when they optioned rights and Stephen Brown, executive producer of Showtime’s “Masters of Horror” series, asked me to write the treatment and first draft for what they planned as a theatrical release. This came back-to-back with a script-editing assignment working with Peter David on Gene Roddenberry’s “Starpoint Academy” as well as script vetting for Stan Lee’s POW Entertainment. Seriously fun stuff. And happening fast.
Then came the long fizzle.
The animated “Everyone’s Hero,” which you’ve likely never heard of (and good for you), the first and only IDT-E motion picture, was such a piece of offal that it dragged everything else down the crapper with it. Subscribing to the infinite monkey theorem, IDT-E took a bedtime story from IDT founder Howard Jonas and handed it to Rob Kurtz, a mediocre writer at best with several unimpressive episodes of TV’s “Will and Grace” on his resume. I remember when Kurtz’s script was dropped on my desk and I was asked to give it a read. The next day I turned in detailed notes. Four words, to be precise. “This stinks on ice,” I wrote with a red felt pen. Why waste words? Kurtz had polished a turd. With turd. But apparently there was too much invested politically so “Everyone’s Zero,” as it was prophetically known around the water cooler, was produced and then released to unsuspecting audiences on September 15, 2006 where it enjoyed a paltry run at the box office before disappearing. IDT would have been better off investing its mad money with Bernie Madoff. Game over.
By the time rights for the Futurians reverted, Dave Cockrum was already long gone, having passed away in November, 2006, from complications resulting from diabetes. My sweet friend had gotten a big kick out of seeing Halle Berry play his Storm character and hoped like hell to see the Futurians up on the big screen, too. I took small comfort in knowing he’d enjoyed the option money and knowledge that his characters were alive in the minds of many.
Enter Richard Saperstein.
When we first met, Saperstein, a former president of The Weinstein Company, had already accumulated impressive producer credits on such real films such as “JohnQ” and “Se7en” (starring Brad Pitt) and, for you comics fans, that first ho-hum “Punisher” movie. He told me Bob and Harvey Weinstein referred to IDT-E as the yarmulkes.
One of Saperstein’s scouts, a distractingly beautiful blonde (whose name, alas, escapes me), had encountered some of my short fiction and recommended me to her boss. Then Harlan Ellison connected me with crackerjack agent Marty Shapiro. Several sold options later I’d learned a little something about the Hollywood game of sell it and maybe, just maybe, they’ll get around to it before rights revert.
Flash forward: Rights reverted. The stories that I’d written were mine again when Saperstein resurfaced to option my series Snaked from IDW Publishing. The clear-eyed, charming, disarmingly frank, unreasonably tall (for a Jew that is), Long Island-raised producer and I were now having regular chats. Consequently, at my suggestion, Saperstein also made overtures to Dave Cockrum’s widow Paty Cockrum and eventually delivered a contract that would tie up all entertainment rights to The Futurians. I couldn’t wait to see the Blackmane action figure! Further, the deal attached me as first writer and executive producer of the film project. The Futurians, it seemed, would fly again.
But nothing happened. Again.
Was it bad timing? Bad luck? A whispered story I heard from a big kahuna at United Talent Agency was that Saperstein was looking for funds. It was certainly possible; the economy had gone all to hell and I have no idea what my producer friend had in the hopper besides my own Snaked. I clearly recall Steve Niles backing away from one of Saperstein’s offers; maybe he knew something I didn’t. All I can tell you for certain is the Futurians contract was never consummated, despite an agreed-upon price, lengthy emails back and forth from Saperstein’s attorney, and three-way phone conferences with Saperstein, myself and Mrs. Cockrum.
And then Snaked went all to hell, too.
I’m not a member of The Writers Guild of America so, via IDW’s young agent and not the aforementioned Mr. Shapiro, I’d been contracted as a non-guilded writer to do the film treatment for Snaked. If the treatment passed muster, the contract said the first draft was mine. There were various payment schedules including a reasonable kill fee, should my treatment be rejected. IDW and I split the option money.
So off I went to write a treatment. One treatment. But I gave them 16 drafts. I’ll say it again: Sixteen. Uncle Harlan screamed that I was being taken advantage of as the contract only called for a single pass, but imagine, my friends how it is: you’re so hungry to see your baby grow up and become a movie that you bend over backwards until your own chiropractor can’t recognize you. Each set of notes generated a page-one rewrite.
“Make it a little more like The Dark Knight,” they said when that film was released. “We’re looking for something a little more Iron Man-esque,” they said when that one was released. Clearly, they didn’t know what they wanted, but what they didn’t want was my story. A protagonist eating his own baby? What were they thinking?
Yes, 16 drafts before I finally said enough. And then they sat on it. And then they sat on it some more. And then they decided that they wanted to go with another writer. Saperstein broke the news to me over dinner in New York, somewhere between the dessert and the check. Such is life. Frankly, at that point, I was relieved. Just one small matter left:
Pay me.
Weeks went by. Then months. Still no check. I had a kill fee of $5K coming and I wanted it. Calls to Saperstein brought nothing but empty promises and then they didn’t even bring that. So, reluctantly—because I’m the last guy to go tell teacher—I phoned my young agent.
“Bad news, Cliff,” said the agent. “Richard’s not going to pay you.”
“We have a contract,” I said. “Of course he’s going to pay me.”
“No he isn’t. He’s pretty sure you won’t sue him. The fee is too small and you’d have to fly to Los Angeles to file for damages. Apparently this is how he does things.”
“Tell me this is a bad joke.”
“Sorry Cliff,” said my agent. “Welcome to Hollywood.”
I paused for a moment. Took a deep breath then exhaled. Then I took another one. “Don’t go anywhere,” I said. “I’ll call you right back.” Then I exhaled.
Thirty minutes later, we were back on the phone.
“Get a pen,” I said.
“I’ve got a pen,” my agent replied. “What is it?”
“Write this down.” I proceeded to read him Richard Saperstein’s parents’ names and home address. I spelled the street slowly so there’d be no mistake.
“What is this?” asked my agent, a nice young man whose heart was palpitating so audibly now that it came through the phone like tom-toms. I’d have worried about him but he’s half my age. Guy that young should have a healthy heart.
“That’s Richard’s parents’ address,” I repeated.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Tell Richard his parents didn’t raise him right,” I said.
“Cliff, you can’t do this!” said my agent.
“Welcome to New Jersey,” I said.
Two days later, I received a check from The Genre Company, Richard Saperstein’s production company. I took the check to the bank. Eureka—it was good.
Charles Manson walks into a room and says, “Is it hot in here or am I crazy?”
And that, my friends, is how I spent my summer vacation.
© 2010, Clifford Meth
I'm sorry Clifford had such a bad experience but I loved the ending! Looking forward to the follow-up.
"Everyone's Zero", huh?Never saw it. Took one look at the beginning of the trailer and went to the restroom.But … 2,257 ratings on IMDB, it averages out to 5.7 out of 10. I've seen *good* movies that don't rate that high.
Mike Weber: It would not be beyond the people behind "Everyone's Zero" to manipulate IMDB ratings. – CM
What I have to say about Everyone's Hero, and how it relates to Clifford's excellent article, is too long for this comments thread. So, I've posted an article at my site and beg the indulgance of ComicMix in posting a link to it here. It has everything to do with this piece and its comments and was written especially in response to them.http://michaelnetzer.com/mnop/?p=1304
It's a good story.
Holy moley, what a tale. I certainly remember the mesmerizing, exhausting phone calls while it was all going on, but never found out the ending till now. Wow. Dick Saperstein is well named.Of course, if Dick "Sap" still chose not to pay you, you were only going to *phone* his parents and ask them to appeal to their little boy, right? (Unless there's an Italian part of you I don't know about…)Glad you gots your money. Sorry you had to deal with so many jerks and cowards.
That's a great story. From all us little guys, thanks for sticking it to one of those Hollywood "big shots." I really enjoyed the read and I'm glad you got your money in the end.
It was clearly not Meth's intention to threaten to call and tell Saperstein's parents what a bad boy their son was. Then he would have said I have their phone number. He would also have made clear that that's all he was threatening so no one would think he was threatening violence.Instead he said he had their ADDRESS. That is like saying I am going to go over there. The reference to New Jersey is to add to that Sopranos style threat. Reread the piece and substitute him saying he knows where Saperstein's kids go to school if you want to understand what he is trying to say.I am not defending Saperstein though I would like to hear his side of the story. If he did not honor his bargain he is a bad man and should be sued or shamed. I do think Meth was foolish to do all that work that the contract did not call for especially since all that was to be paid was $5K. But threatening someone's parents is not an admirable way to get what is owed you. If Saperstein owes you the money you take it up with Saperstein not with innocent relatives.
This is a guy who once threatened to kill a woman who threw a won-ton at Harlan Ellison. (He also claimed his brother was going to pull a gun on her, too.) So this doesn't surprise me.
I was only upset because it was my last wonton.
You had every right to be upset. But threatening, even in an oblique way, the guy's parents? That's kind of nuts.
Jim, and the other guy. You're missing the point. It's about right and wrong. Good and bad. Saperstein was bluffing. Cliff answered in kind. Now it's a matter of conscience. Saperstein's was overloaded. He realized he was wrong and did a bad thing. Cliff did nothing wrong and has nothing on his conscience. Clean conscience wins. End of story. The money is the least important thing here.How many real stories like this do you hear about, where a clean conscience wins? That's what's so good about it. But one needs a clean conscience to understand it.
Meth's approach was creative, and definitely cheaper than having to sue the guy's ass to honor his contract. I don't think using relatives, in any way or context, is appropriate, unless those relatives are professionally involved in the dispute. Somewhere there's a middle ground where you can be effective without bringing in uninvolved parties.
Beautifully put, Michael. As usual, you are a voice of reason.As for the wonton incident, Jim, I just got off the phone with Cliff. Turns out it was, in fact, TWO wontons…one would be excusable, but two? I would have pulled a gun on her myself.
Mike– I just hung up with Harlan. He concurs. Two wontons. Not one. Two.
Good to be so close to your sweet heart again, Mike!
We should all be glad you guys didn't go for fondue that night, I suppose.
That's the spirit, Jim!
Good thing it wasn't a cupcake.Oh, and Mr Anon, when you choose not to sign your name you lose a lot in the way of credibility.
Great story, Cliff.I have to admit that as I was reading, I was picturing a different ending. Something to do with a horse's head in the bed. Or at least horse-radish. (See http://www.schmoozeorlose.com click on "Comics" and then click on "Comic 10 7/14".
I think what is making some people uncomfortable with Meth's approach is that he was intentionally vague. Someone pointed out that Meth's saying that he's from New Jersey was meant to elicit an association with The Sopranos.Ummm … with all due respect to that fine show … Meth lived in New Jersey many many years before The Sopranos was even an idea in some writer's head. If Cliff grew up where I did, he would have used the line, "Welcome to Toronto" —- which would seem less intimidating than "Welcome to New Jersey" or "Welcome to the Bronx". I see it as just Cliff's way of saying "he's dealing with me ; well, this is how we handle things in MY neighborhood".Which begs the question, what could Cliff have been threatening / suggesting he would do if the money wasn't paid?I think most people have a violent / threat of violence scenario in their heads. That probably says more about their mindset than Cliff's.Here's another idea — and let's remember the phrase Cliff specifically used "his parents didn't raise him right". Suppose if instead of listing their home address, he listed their synagogue address. That would suggest to me that they're going to get a serious lecture from their local rabbi about what a shande (embarassment) their son is to himself and his community that he would treat someone this way. In some ways, that is far worse than if he had threatened actual violence.And the fact of either's Jewishness is irrelevant. If Saperstein were a Catholic, he could have threatened to tell his priest or the nun who he respected in Sunday school.While Saperstein may not care what most people think of him, he does seem to care what his parents think. Going to his parents about his wrongdoing might seem like a grade-school solution … but, what the heck, it did work!
Dude, you are sofa king awesome. I wanna be you when I grow up.
Cliff, you are awesome
Want more happy endings? Read THE WHOREHOUSE MADRIGALS. Visit <a href="http://www.aardwolfpublishing.com” target=”_blank”>www.aardwolfpublishing.com
To be honest, I read this and it never crossed my mind that there was any threat of unsavory action here. If there were, he'd have been a fool to relate the story. I saw it as a simple "I'm gonna tell your mama on you" threat. Maybe I'm just naive.
Great story, Cliff! Bravo!
*Standing ovation* Bravo.
I'm laughing, and I'd be applauding, but it's early and my wife and son are still sleeping. You do what most of us only think of three weeks after the fact.
Welcome to New Jersey – I LOVE IT!!