Hollywood Writers? Not Seriously

Barbara and Milton Merlin,
daughter Sally B. Merlin
and cat called Casper relax in scholarly study.

By MARY CURTIS, Times Staff Writer

For 38 years, in a home filled with cats and plants and thousands of books, Milton and Barbara Merlin have worked together as writing and producing team in a business both say they have never taken seriously.

They have worked for radio, motion pictures and television, survived blacklisting in the '50s and reared three children. Today they continue to work full-time out of their Cheviot Hills home-she as the West Coast coordinator for the National Enquirer and he as a would-be novelist also helping their daughter, Sally B. Merlin, to sell scripts the couple wrote 10 years ago.

"Retire? Impossible," the 78-year-old Milton said. "I don't know how you can talk about such a thing. If your brain and your interests are working, how can you retire? Retire to what? To a resort? I hate resorts."

Although she dismisses her work with the Enquirer as "a nice way to wind down my career," Barbara Merlin said she shares her husband's abhorrence of retirement.

"I would go bananas," Barbara, 65, said. "We will never, either one of us, retire."

They have instead withdrawn from the social whirl of Hollywood and left it to Sally to deal with the politics of selling their material. At 37 she is following her parents into writing and producing career.

"I have nothing but contempt for Hollywood," Milton said. "I have nothing but contempt for writers. When I get together with other writers, I want to talk about ideas, about books and Shakespeare. But writers only want to talk about their work and their agents."

Named by his mother after 17th-Century British poet John Milton, he surrounds himself with first editions, classical music tapes and well-worn pipes in a study that resembles a scholar's nest more than a scriptwriter's studio.

"I am so lazy I built my own library," Milton said half-apologetically, waving vaguely at the shelves and cases and tables crammed with books. "I know this looks like a hermitage, but it's very alive here. I had an office for a time, but it was nothing compared with this house. The doorbell is always ringing, there are always people going in and out.

"I'm not a tourist, not a sightseer. England is my home, I am an anglophile, but I've never been to England. I love Greece too, but England is here, Greece is here, here in my books. Detours are every thing. You go out of your way, you start from scratch everyday."

Starting from scratch every day has kept Merlin working in Hollywood for some 50 years. He started at Paramount Pictures and sat on the studio's storyboard from 1933 to 1936. The board composed of five men, recommended scripts and books to the studio for production.

At Paramount Merlin worked with child actors Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland. He was associate producer for the first movie that featured Garland, "Everybody Sing." He later was associate producer of "Thoroughbreds Don't Cry," a movie that teamed Rooney and Garland.

"I knew such a different Judy from the one you read about now. She was a plain, fat, very sweet girl who could sing but could not act."

In 1936 he moved to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, where he worked as an associate producer until 1940, making "Bad Man of Brimstone" with Wallace Beery, "Live, Love and Learn" with Rosalind Russell and Robert Montgomery, and other movies.

In 1945 Milton met Barbara, then working as an associate producer for a wartime radio show called "Everything for the Boys." She had also been associate producer for the "Amos and Andy" radio show and for "Mayor of the Town," a radio series starring Lionel Barrymore.

"We literally met in an NBC sound studio," Barbara said. "We had one date and it was all decided." Together the couple worked on the radio show, "Halls of Ivy," with British actor Ronald Coleman, wrote scripts for the television series, "The Millionaire," and wrote episodes for a series called "The Breaking Point." One of their scripts for "The Breaking Point" was a love story about an over-80 couple that starred Lillian Gish and Walter Pidgeon.

It was "The Millionaire," which ran from 1956 to 1961 that marked Milton's removal from the Hollywood blacklist, where his name appeared in 1952.

"I had served as president of the Radio Writers' Guild, and that was enough to mark me as a Communist," Milton said. Called before the House Un-American Activities Committee, he refused to testify about other members of the union. It was six years before his name again appeared in credits.

"People ask me why I don't write a book on Hollywood," Milton said, "but I'm tired of telling Ronald Coleman stories and no one would recognize the Hollywood I know."

He is far more eager to discuss Jane Austen's prose, Mozart's symphonies or the political intrigues of Elizabethan England than to reminisce about Holly wood.

"My parents have experienced it all," Sally said. "They have run the gamut and survived. They know how tough it is and they didn't want to see me go through the struggle they did. But I was literally nursed, diapered and fed during story sessions. So I had the glitter-eye for the glamour."

When she was a teen-ager, Merlin said, she dreamed of being an actress and worked part-time at a small theater. One night Judy Garland came to watch a play at the theater. After the play she and several other actors gathered on the stage to talk and sing.

"Judy was very drunk, and someone asked me to go with her to the lady's room," Merlin said. "As I watched her powder her nose, I said, 'You probably don't remember, but my father, Milton Merlin, worked with you at Paramount years ago.' Judy burst into tears and threw her arms around me."

Garland asked the girl what she wanted to be. "I said I wanted to be an actress and sing," Merlin said. Then they sang 'Blackbird' with Garland

"She said my father had meant a lot to her and led me out on the stage. She asked me what my favorite song was. I said 'Bye Bye Blackbird.' So I stood on that stage and I sang 'Bye Bye Blackbird' with Judy Garland."

Merlin is determined to interest one of the studios in her parents' work.

"I've had a lot of lunches, a lot of cocktails, a lot of meetings, but if even one of the properties goes, it will be worth it."

One project is a screenplay for a television movie about the founder of the American Braille Institute. Called "The Night of the Cowpoke," the screenplay is Milton's dramatization of the life of a one-time cowboy who was blinded in an accident and developed the nation's first Braille printing press.

The Merlin’s seemed bemused by their daughter's interest in their work. "I wouldn't go through what Sally has gone through in the last year," Barbara said. "I know what it's like, because I did that before Milton and I got out of television.

"In 1968, when the real junk started being produced, we said forget it. The business has changed so much now."

Added Milton "What I like to do is what I'm doing now, writing entirely for myself. I never wanted to get into movies. I was very priggish about it. But when you really are making pictures, when you're inside it, it s different. Then you have obligations and you have to make money, and you're trapped.

"Fortunately, we had the best of times in radio, in movies and early television."

"We've made an extremely good team," Barbara said. I think we were lucky. We worked with people we wanted to work with."

The Washington Post

Scripts for the Screen
The write way to be in movies

By Ed Schneider

When you discover your meter reader's writing a movie script, it's clear Washington's more like L.A. than any one would like to admit. From Manassas to Montgomery Mall, lawyers, homemakers, strippers and feds have become, aspiring Quentin Tarantino’s, pouring their passions and energies into personal versions of the Great American Screenplay. And why not? If some fool made big-bucks writing "Dumb and Dumber," why couldn't you hit the jackpot with "Smart and Smarter?" Piece of cake! All you need is a good story. Remember that awful camping trip with the kids? That's a screenplay! The time your co-worker fell in love with her podiatrist? There's another. Life is not a beach, it's a movie.

And here's the dream scenario: You get a great idea while stuck in traffic. That night, you write it-110 pages of cinematic gold. Then first thing in the morning, you hire an agent, who sells it to Spielberg for six figures that afternoon. A couple of days later, Tom Cruise and Sharon Stone agree to star, but you don't hear about it, because you're busy checking out property in Malibu. It's a nice fantasy, but the reality is that screenwriting is a lot harder than you think. First, there's the format-a convoluted set of rules that defies all logic. Dialogue, for example, is typed in a narrow column down the center of the page, while scene descriptions and directions stretch full-width. Why? Ask a psychic. Then there are the bizarre rules for abbreviations: SFX, SPFX and POV are capitalized without periods, whereas O.S. and V.O. are capitalized with periods. Then there's f.g. and b.g. Go figure. There are even rules for the number and type of fasteners you use to bind your finished manuscript.

Once you get past formatting enigmas, there's the knotty problem of your story's "structure." The basic principle here is: Get your hero up a tree in Act One, throw rocks at him in Act Two, then get him down in Act Three-The End. Sounds easy until you try to fill 60 or so pages with an array of dazzling rocks. To make the task even more confusing, every so-called expert prescribes a different way to do it.

"I've got just about every screenwriting book in print," says Lillie Coney, systems manager for Rep. Cardiss Collins (D-Ill). "After a while you just say 'Enough!' and get on with it."

Film is a collaborative art. As a cog in the great cosmic projector, your role as screenwriter is to create a blueprint for others (producers, directors, production designers, cinematographers, carpenters, gaffers, best boys and, oh, yes, movie stars) to flesh out and make something America will pay hard cash to see. And even though you are the only originating artist in this process, you'll get no respect. Producers can, and do, hire others to rewrite your story, directors bend it to their own vision and actors improvise lines, ignoring your polished dialogue. If truth be known, the writer is the least powerful person on the set. Heard the one about the starlet who was so dumb, she slept with the screenwriter? Everyone in Hollywood has.

Is it all worth it? You be the judge: "Spec" scripts routinely sell for between $100,000 and $1 million; a few have topped the $3 million mark--even some unknowns.

However, of the more than 34,000 manuscripts registered with the Writers Guild of America last year, only 300 or so will become Hollywood films. And few of those will have been written on "spec." Still, diehards are not deterred and not everyone's in it for the money.

Tynan T. Galle, a 25-year-old part-time candy seller at a local movie theater, dreams of writing "something that will give people a charge when they see it in a darkened room." He plans to write three feature-length films this year, then find an agent. Three? In one year? "Well . . . at least before I'm 30." He's working on his first now: "Hell to Pay", an action-thriller about a guy who works in a movie theater.

Monique Berry has a message to impart: "Loosen up!" Her tales are inspired by her own experiences and those of her colleagues. Her day job-actually, more of a night job-is as principal dancer for Simone's Strip-A Grams, a business she started as a student at American University. "I'm not your average stripper," she says. "I happen to be bright and articulate and I have a bizarre sense of humor." She's planning adult-themed, comic material to pitch to HBO and Cinemax. "Nude and Nuder?" Perhaps.

"Spec" scripts routinely sell for between $100,000 and $1 million; a few have topped the $3 million mark- even some by unknowns. Do these writers, and the hundreds like them, have a shot working 3,000 miles from the Entertainment Capital?

Justen Dardis, a literary agent with the Agency for the Performing Arts, believes that distance works against you. "A good portion of business happens because of access," he points out. Creative Artists Agency's Bob Bookman concurs. "It's harder for a writer to exert his personality if he's not in the same room with an agent or studio executive."

But Silver Spring screenwriting guru Sally Merlin believes it's a liability for a writer to live in L.A. "The minute you get there, you are swept up in what's hot and what's not and you begin to write from the studio perspective," she says. "Living in a place as rich in stories as D.C., you have the opportunity to tap into a world that Hollywood knows nothing about-and what they do know, they've only seen in the movies."

Rob Carlson of the William Morris Agency agrees: "All that matters is what's on the page."

Jeff Arch proved that when he sold "Sleepless in Seattle," a script he wrote from his home in Clifton, Va. "I'm convinced that you can write screenplays from anywhere." Worn down, however, by the bi-coastal pressures his success created, he moved to Santa Barbara. "I still don't live in Hollywood," he says, "only now I don't have to fly and I don't rent cars." "It all depends on what you want out of your life and your career," says working screenwriter Mark Stein, a D.C. resident who wrote the Steve Martin/Goldie Hawn comedy "Housesitter," and other films. "Some people thrive on the business. They love it. They breathe it. I don't."

Let's say, you've learned your craft, burned the midnight oil as well as your weekends and now your script is done. A real blockbuster! All you need is an agent who'll read the first page and say, "Oh, my gosh, this could be a Harrison Ford movie!" Jim Crabbe of the William Morris Agency says, "It's really an agent's greatest joy to find new people." However, the bigger, more powerful agencies (like Crabbe's) won't read anything unsolicited-only works by writers referred to them by someone they respect: their lawyers, relatives, tennis partners . . . or dry cleaners. "Agencies have been burned so badly so many times on unsolicited scripts, we just send them back," a senior agent explain.

"It 's a legal thing." So how do you get a foot in the door? Merlin advises aspiring writers "to work whatever contacts you have." If your aunt knows Al Pacino's brother-in-law's chiropractor, that's a contact. Use it.

"It's kind of like anything else in Hollywood: It's who you know," says William Morris's Carlson. But he doesn't rule out the occasional quirk of fate. "Some times, there'll be something in a note that catches my attention. "Just keep writing," he advises, "It's the best thing you can do, no matter where you are. If you're really good, someone will find out." As L.A. agent David Warden puts it, "Luck and timing will give you your start, but it's talent that will give you your career."

"One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice - though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life!" each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do - determined to save the only life that you could save."

Anonymous

"A time comes in your life when you finally get it...when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out - ENOUGH! Enough fighting and crying or struggling to hold on. And, like a child quieting down after a blind tantrum, your sobs begin to subside, you shudder once or twice, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.

This is your awakening.

You realize it's time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change...or for happiness, safety and security to come galloping over the next horizon. You come to terms with the fact that neither of you is Prince Charming or Cinderella and that in the real world there aren't always fairy tale endings (or beginnings for that matter) and that any guarantee of "happily ever after" must begin with you...and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance. You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love appreciate or approve of who or what you are ... and that's okay.

They are entitled to their own views and opinions. And you learn the importance of loving and championing yourself...and in the process a sense of newfound confidence is born of self-approval.

You stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you (or didn't do for you) and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected. You learn that people don't always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and that it's not always about you. So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself...and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.

You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties...and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.

You realize that much of the way you view yourself, and the world around you, is as a result of all the messages and opinions that have been ingrained into your psyche. And you begin to sift through all the crap you've been fed about how you should behave, how you should look, how much you should weigh, what you should wear, what you should do for a living, how much money you should make, what you should drive, how and here you should live, who you should marry, the importance of having and raising children, and what you owe your parents, family, and friends.

You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. And you begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for. You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you've outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with...and in the process you learn to go with your instincts.

You learn that it is truly in giving that we receive. And that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a "consumer" looking for your next fix.

You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a by-gone era but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.

You learn that you don't know everything, it's not your job to save the world and that you can't teach a pig to sing. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.

You learn that the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake. Then you learn about love; how to love, how much to give in love, when to stop giving and when to walk away.

You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. And you learn that alone does not mean lonely. You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.

You learn that feelings of entitlement are perfectly OK.... and that it is your right to want things and to ask for the things you want...and that sometimes it is necessary to make demands.

You come to the realization that you deserve to be treated with love, kindness, sensitivity and respect and you won't settle for less. And you learn that your body really is your temple. And you begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drink more water, and take more time to exercise. You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just as food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.

You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you believe you deserve...and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy. You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.

More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance. You also learn that no one can do it all alone...and that it's okay to risk asking for help.

You learn the only thing you must truly fear is the greatest robber baron of all: FEAR itself.

You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms. And you learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom. You learn that life isn't always fair, you don't always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes-bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people.

On these occasions you learn not to personalize things. You learn that God isn't punishing you or failing to answer your prayers. It's just life happening. And you learn to deal with evil in its most primal state -the ego.

You learn that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.

You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls. You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.

Slowly, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than your heart's desire. And you hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind. And you make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.

Finally, with courage in your heart and God by your side you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best you can."