Many of you may remember that a couple of months ago, I fell in love with an amateur script called “Where Angels Die.” I liked it so much, I put it in my top 10. Since that time, the writer, Alex Felix, has moved to Los Angeles, garnered co-management from Energy and Station Three, and secured representation at CAA. The agency is currently packaging the material to go out to studios with. I sat down with Alex in Culver City last week to interview him about how he got here. The interview went a lot longer than expected so I’m going to split it into two parts. Part 1 is today and Part 2 will be posted tomorrow. Enjoy!
SS: When did you start writing?
AF: I’ve been doing it for 8 years now, so since 2005.
SS: I think you said you originally started writing short stories, right?
AF: No, well, the first thing I wrote was actually a novel.
SS: Exactly. I totally knew that.
AF: Yeah. And so I sent it to some friends and they were like, “Oh, that’s cool.” I’m sure it was terrible. But I had always been fascinated by movies, so I thought, “Lemme check out screenplays,” and I started buying screenwriting books — I read Save the Cat a bunch of times. When you’re a beginner, it’s probably the best book you could read. People will argue that. But yeah, I read every screenwriting book I could get my hands on, and then I adapted that first novel into a screenplay, then wrote a bunch more.
SS: A bunch more screenplays?
AF: Yeah. And some of them were, y’know, eighty percent done or so and I’d be like, “Wait…”– I didn’t quite know what I was doing yet. Second act, black-hole type phenomenon. But eventually you push through and you push through and you keep doing it and, I guess what helped out, too, was working for Sniper Twins as a director’s assistant. I helped a lot with their pitch decks and longer form treatments. Working with Dax and Barry allowed me see scripted material from a director’s POV, which is something a lot of screenwriters don’t think about.
SS: Wait, who are these people?
AF: Sniper Twins? They’re commercial directors based in NYC, repped by Smuggler. You should check their stuff out, they’re really talented guys.
SS: This is just so not fair. I work with guys named “Daisy” and “Wheelchair Al.” You work with the “Sniper Twins.”
AF: What can I say? I’ve been lucky here and there.
SS: And what’s a ‘pitch deck?’ I want one for Christmas.
AF: Let’s say Nike has a concept for a commercial — they’ll basically take submissions from different repped directors, and it’s basically their version of how they would shoot the commercial. It’s kind of like a show bible but for a commercial, so it’s more visual. So, I helped [the Sniper twins] with that.
SS: So do they include storyboards?
AF: No, not really. For instance, you might include actor references, but it’s really about the look, the feel, the tone, and the world. That actually helped me with the world-building aspect of screenwriting, too, and seeing things visually. I learned a lot. And that’s when I went to film school.
SS: Where’d you go to film school?
AF: Digital Film Academy. It’s in New York. It’s not one of the expensive 4 year programs or anything, but they have a solid curriculum and everything is very hands-on. I’d been writing for a while by then, and what was cool about that was I got to write a bunch of shorts—for your thesis you had to direct your own short. I had never really messed with shorts before and so that was cool, too.
SS: Was your education just focused on the filmmaking side or did you write any screenplays there?
AF: I did, actually. I wrote three shorts while I was there and ended up picking the one I liked best and using that as the one to direct, but I was still working on my own feature-length screenplays on the side.
SS: So you finished there. Did you keep trying to direct or did you focus on writing?
AF: I focused on writing. I wanted to do the film school thing because I’d been writing a while, but wanted to explore all aspects of filmmaking. I did really like the process of directing, though. I think I had a 7D at the time and enjoyed DP’ing as well. I was doing the whole DSLR, run-n-gun, do-it-yourself filmmaking thing, but my passion throughout had always been the writing (that’s not to say I wouldn’t be interested in directing some of my own work in the future).
SS: It’s one of the best ways to get in the business, really, getting established as a writer, then when you write something everybody likes, hold them hostage: “If you want this made, I’m gonna be the director.” You can’t really do that at first.
AF: Yeah, I actually just spoke to Chris Sparling recently, great guy. He originally tried directing Buried after he wrote it.
SS: Yeah, that’s right, he wanted to direct that.
AF: That’s what he’s doing right now, directing his own first feature. I couldn’t be happier for him.
SS: Oh, he’s officially doing it?
AF: Yeah. You see that happening a lot more – writers who have written 3, 4, 5 screenplays, garner a lot of acclaim as far as their voice and their writing and saying, “I want to direct this.” Whether it’s using the contacts they’ve built up or “holding the material hostage”, as you put it.
SS: Yeah, that’s how I like to do it.
AF: [laughs] Well, those were your words!
SS: So, how did we get from there to Where Angels Die? How many scripts did you write in between? And how many years would that have been?
AF: I was in New York for six and a half years and I was writing that whole time. Where Angels Die was written afterwards, in Michigan. The plan was to move from New York to LA, but there was an extended pit stop in Detroit, which actually served the screenplay really well because I was in Detroit to write it. I think I had written about 6 features total before Where Angels Die.
SS: From the beginning?
AF: Yeah, not including the shorts and the novel.
SS: You told me you didn’t feel as confident in those previous scripts. Can you elaborate on that?
AF: Practice really does make perfect. Each time I look back at one of them, I see that I learned something, even just from script to script. And I would tell this to a lot of writers, when you write something you think is really great and you’re in your “cooling off period”, always put it aside for a few weeks. Don’t look at it. Instead, look at the last one you wrote, or even the one before that, and so many things will pop out at you, just from the experience of writing this new one. You might see characters in a completely different light, or that your dialogue is flat in places… and when you go back to the newer one, you see noticeable improvement. For me, the bar has been set at Where Angels Die—it’s not that I’m not proud of those previous efforts. Without them, I wouldn’t have gotten to where I am now. But would I send those to producers around town? I think they’re more interested in what comes next. And there’s already two, three things in the works.
SS: What was it about Angels that put it above your previous screenplays in your opinion?
AF: I knew this one was unique from the start. I had never written a screenplay in the city I was living in at the current time so I got to go location scout. As I was planning to write certain scenes I had the ability to visit those locations. With the Ambassador Bridge, for instance, I got to drive by that. When you have a picture in your mind– and this is also why, going back, directing and film school helps because when you’ve done that and you can visualize what the end product needs to look like, you know whether the scene works or whether there’s a good chance the director is just going to cut it. Those factors added depth, as far as the world building went. I think it was also just building on previous experience… something clicked for me. The phase of my own life I was going through, that probably influenced it as well — I was in, honestly, a little bit of a darker, moodier, depressing place. My plan was to drive from NY to LA and I had bought a POS early model Honda Prelude and so it ended up breaking down in the best place possible, in Detroit, because I have a lot of friends and family there. As I was there, I was writing and it was a setback, I didn’t have money to just go buy another car right away, also I was kind of, “Okay well, maybe it’s not meant to work out.” I still was going to keep writing, I never stopped, but you know how it is when you’re back home. My folks were really pushing me to…
SS: … to do stuff that actually paid money?
AF: Exactly. [laughs] So while I was in MI, I was just trying to keep everybody happy. Then winter came. It was a brutal winter and part of me was obviously depressed, although I don’t think I’d admit it back then– a part of me really wanted to go out to LA and follow my dreams. So I think that that unique mindset, it kind of lit a fire in me and there were at least 3 days in a row where I was banging out 10-15 pages a day and it was almost like this act of rebellion. So it was very personal and real to me and it was almost like I had something to prove to the world. I was angry inside and I dunno, writing was my therapy.
SS: I felt some of that anger in the script!
AF: Yeah! So, it was probably a combination of lots of factors.
SS: Something I really liked about Angels were the characters. I was curious how you approached creating characters.
AF: Well the first thing I always do – before I even approach the characters – is I’ll get the concept down. I’ll do some abstract brainstorming, a page or two of jotting down whatever ideas I have for this film, and then I’ll whip up a quick Blake Snyder, I’ll get those 15 beats down.
SS: So you actually use the Blake Snyder beat-sheet?
AF: Absolutely. Every time. I get my 15 beats down and then I’ll go and do my 40 scenes. So I’ll go in and for me it’s easier and I’m gonna get to character in a second – but this is just my process– before I even get into the characters I need to know what happens.
SS: So you’re more plot-centric when you start?
AF: Yeah, and that’s not to say there’s a right way or a wrong way. It’s just the approach that works for me. And sometimes I actually try and get my writing buddies involved early on, even in the outline phase, to get some feedback.
SS: So you’re actually sending out–
AF: It’s like when Blake Snyder says bounce your loglines off friends. I have a couple of close friends who’ve also been writing a long time and I trust their feedback so before I put TOO much effort into something I’ll ask what they think about the concept. So when I’m confident I have a great premise, I’ll write my 15 Blake Snyder beats, then flesh it out and get my 40 scenes down. Once I’ve got a good handle on plot, then I’ll go in and work on my characters. There was actually a Scriptshadow article that really helped me as I was developing my process. The one about the X-factor?
SS: I think the one about the 13 most important things every script should have?
AF: Yeah, that one and also the GSU one. Goals, stakes and urgency lend themselves to all the genres I write. So I make sure those are there. But once I know where the story’s going, I get to the characters. And I really start by making sure the characters aren’t stock, aren’t stereotypes.
SS: Well how do you do that? How do you make sure they’re not stock?
AF: I’m not sure if part of it is because I’ve always been more of a sociable person, and part of it is noticing little quirks about people in my real life. Someone I meet or know might have this really cool quality about him or her that’s intriguing and different. I kind of just keep those things in mind and if you base your characters in a bit of reality, then you know that A) they’re not gonna be way over-the-top or unbelievable, but B) they’re gonna have some qualities you’d find exceptional and different. It’s not the whole “give every character a limp and an eye-patch” thing, you could do that, you could make a list of ten things that sets this person apart. But for me, when it’s personal and it’s based off someone in real life, even just taking my own good friends and family, everybody’s got flaws, including myself.
SS: Which friend was placed into the cross-dressing killer role in your script?
AF: [laughs] It’s not only real life, it’s also movies you’ve seen. You just draw from all experiences, let’s see, Horatio was– I know a couple people who have really short tempers, actually, but keep in mind villains have to serve the protagonist, so you know Parker, being strapped all the time, I wanted someone who’s gonna make you really worry about Parker’s safety. Someone really unpredictable. I also have people in my life who’ve died of AIDS and so that was an influence in that decision. People kind of avoid that topic, which I get, but at the same time it’s a fact that a lot of inner-city prisoners are HIV positive, so that goes back to basing your character in reality in certain aspects. Even the medications he takes, I was working at a pharmacy at the time, so even that little part, write what you know. And then there were a few of the more standard villain tropes. There was also definitely a little bit of Heath Ledger’s Joker in there. I kind of built a Frankenstein villain that works for the story. I know one of the things you said was he was a little too over-the-top at times but you just don’t care because he’s unpredictable, which was what I was going for.
SS: So, obviously when you talk about character, you move naturally into dialogue, and one of the dialogue scenes I liked best was the scene where Parker yells at his co-worker. If felt so real. How do you approach dialogue so it feels natural?
AF: This is one of those things where going back to the older scripts you’ll notice huge improvements. When I go back to my earlier efforts, a lot of the dialogue is very on-the-nose. So that is probably, for me, that took the longest to lock in. How do I approach it? They always say to have actors read your stuff if possible. I’ve never had that opportunity, and writers who have are definitely lucky. I’m not hanging out with the cast of Breaking Bad on the weekends. For me, the dialogue has to serve the character first and foremost and also, I really at this point make a conscious effort (and this doesn’t come until 2-3 drafts in) to make dialogue NOT on-the-nose, to use subtext. Real people talk in short clipped sentences, they’ll cut each other off, they’ll be sarcastic. The better you know your characters, the better their dialogue is going to sound. Even just when you sit at a bar and people watch, you’ll notice there’s definitely a rhythm to the way people talk, and some people talk with their whole body while others are very conscious of how they come across. The main thing I would say is really do everything you can to make sure your characters are not just conveying information that you want your audience to know. No one wants to sit around and read that. If you’re giving notes on an amateur script, bad dialogue will be one of the first things you probably notice.
SS: Right.
AF: It’s the quickest way to sink a script. I’ve seen people who can write great action scenes, great description, and then you get to the dialogue and it’s like, “God, none of these people sound like real people.” So yeah, that’s what, I think for me, took the longest to nail down. Other writers are naturals at dialogue. For them other aspects of the craft are harder to pick up (like structure). But this is how the world works for me.
Part 2 of the interview is here!
