Jeffrey York

Do most filmmakers consider it too gauche to center a film around a monster these days?

When the lights go down in the theater, I’m always hopeful that a sequel will rise to the challenge of making more out of its task than just being a quick money-grab.

Who’d have thought that Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David, the creators of Seinfeld in 1989, would create a series that would come to foreshadow all the worst impulses and instincts evident in “the American experiment” in 2021?

As people get more of their news and information in shorter bursts, 30-minute series, be they comedies, dramas, or limited series, are becoming the rage.

“As an author [of a book], you have to be the camera. A script gets interpreted, but in a book, the words have to do all the work.”

Arguably, if the work isn’t its own reward, you’ve not chosen your career wisely, no matter what the profession.

For all the talk in Hollywood given to seeking out vital roles for women, the woman warrior has become every bit an egregious cliché as the hooker with a heart of gold was for half a century on film.

If a screenwriter thinks that there’s little to learn from the niche because they’re writing a horror film or a thriller, they’re (ahem) way off-key.

The limited series really must be considered long-from filmmaking, a brilliant hybrid of the best of the big and small screens.

What happened to sci-fi? When did it become so predictable, so unvaried, so unimaginative?

1985 gave us three such movies blending commerciality, narrative discipline, and daring—their scripts a marvel to behold.

Being uncaged or unencumbered isn’t really freedom in writing, it’s absurdity.

Being bad is a state of mind, and in the 1970s, being bad was very, very good.

One of the worst pieces of advice ever given to a screenwriter has to be: “Write what you know.” The key is relatability. If you can relate, you can write.

It’s all storytelling, be it a product or a film or a TV show. Combining art and business is a tale as old as time.