Some insight into the recent sale of the spec script “Everybody Loves Whales” from this GITS comment by one of the script’s writers Jack Amiel:

I was surfing to see what people were saying about the script, and stumbled across this site. For the record, Michael and I wrote the script (at the time titled “Whales on Ice”) almost ten years ago, and it has been sitting on a shelf for a pretty long time. It’s based on a wonderful book by Tom Rose about the event. We wrote the screenplay as a satirical indie comedy, which is why it probably didn’t sell originally. Two months ago, we took out all the cursing and two sex scenes and overnight it magically became a family movie… not kidding. Warner Bros. scooped it up with no idea of what it once was, only what they thought it could be.

First off, congratulations to Jack and his writing partner Michael Begler (who have written several family films including The Prince & Me, Raising Helen, and The Shaggy Dog) on the sale of their script.

Second, every spec script, even unsold, is still a potential asset. Case in point from this amazing story from Rob Long, who has a weekly 5-minute audio commentary on KCRW called Martini Shot:

True story:

A writer in his late 50′s, who hadn’t worked in a long, long time, but who at one point was well-paid and in-demand, found himself facing what we’ll call Typical Hollywood Career Ending Number 3: private school and college tuitions paid, barely; 401k plan ransacked; home equity tapped; savings dwindling; cars, one; supermarket, Ralph’s; area code 661. (Look it up: it’s Palmdale.)

So, with a month or two left before the house goes back to IndyMac and he starts puts the baggies on the hands and heads off to Quizno’s to make the subs, he calls his old agent and lays it out. Anything? Anything at all for me?

(I promise. This story has a happy ending. Sort of.)

His agent, who’s represented him for almost 30 years, has in that time gone from young guy out of the mailroom to Major Player in the business, and like a lot of agents, is sentimental about his longtime clients, in that he still takes his phone calls.

I don’t know what I can do for you, he says to his old client. Most of the people in the business now have never heard of you. It’s been a long time. Also: I only work about two days a week now. Let me put you in touch with one of our young guys here.

So the old agent calls in his assistant and says, look, do something for this guy. I don’t know how – he isn’t actually very good; never was – but do, something. And if it works, I’ll make you an agent.

So the young assistant calls the old writer in for a meeting. Bring everything, he says. Every script, every idea, every notion, everything. Bring it all in.

Which the writer does. In a giant carton – remember: it’s thirty year’s worth of material. And the assistant sifts through the piles. And it’s all pretty bad. But the assitant discovers an old spec feature script of the writer’s, never sold, that’s basically a version of a script that was just bought by a major studio, and which is on the fast-track to production. The young assistant knows that that studio will pay a lot for the script, just to take it off the market. Just so no other studio beats them to theaters with a similar project.

So. The assistant then calls all of the studios, ostensibly for his boss, and tells them this: a veteran client of the agency – a guy rich and retired, an artist – has written a wonderful feature script. He tells them the basic premise of the script, and to expect it by messenger on Friday, and be prepared to make an offer on Monday morning.

The studio with the similar project instantly freaks, and offers – script unread – a lot of money to take it off the market. No deal, says the assistant, pretending to speak for his boss. Our client is a veteran. He’s a elder statesman. And he’s too rich to let you buy his script and bury it. Okay? This guy is not motivated by money.

So they offer more money. A lot more. And an additional two-script deal besides. And suddenly, the old writer is motivated by money.

And that’s the happy ending. The assistant is promoted to agent. The writer gets to keep his house and health care. Everybody wins.

Well, that’s it for this week. Next week –

Okay, I’ll tell you the real ending to the story. The writer does takes the money but he forgets the second part, which is the “and run” part. He takes the money and stays. Moves back to the 310 from the 661. Gets the BMW 7 series. Hires an assistant. Interprets his last-minute save, third act deus ex machina, one time only get out of jail free card as his “comeback,” and he’s spent the past two years – and most of the money – trying to do just that. Maybe it’ll work. It all depends on how resourceful and aggressive his agent’s assistant is.

True story.

A spec script is always a potential asset.

A third thing we can learn from the sale of “Everybody Loves Whales” is that it often doesn’t take much to change the perception of a script. As Amiel said in his comment, they “took out all the cursing and two sex scenes and overnight it magically became a family movie.” So if you don’t sell your script as an offbeat indie feature, depending upon the core concept, you may be able to transform the story into a more mainstream and, therefore, marketable script.

Again congrats to Amiel & Begler. And you can listen to the Martini Shot podcast of “Good Agentry,” click here. Some background on Rob Long:

Veteran TV writer and producer Rob Long shares his behind-the-scenes look at Hollywood life on “Martini Shot.” A contributing editor for the National Review and Newsweek International, he was a co-executive producer of “Cheers” while still in his 20s and is the co-creator of a string of (cancelled) sitcoms: “George & Leo,” “Men, Women & Dogs,” etc. Rob is also the author of “Conversations With My Agent,” the cult classic about real life in Hollywood, as well as its recently published sequel, “Set Up, Joke, Set Up, Joke.”