A Few Good Exams

Three exams done, one to go. I know what you're wondering: if my courses were a movie (specifically, the best lawyer movie of all time) then how would my experiences with each final exam correspond to scenes from said movie? I'll tell you.

Entertainment Law:



This one's tough to gauge. It's a paper course, and I've handed in my essay, which I feel strongly about - but there's no real advance measure of how well I've done. So a scene about driving through Guantanamo Bay as the particular focus of trained enemy snipers seemed appropriately descriptive.

Civil Procedure:



In a word, confidence. If you recall, in this scene, Cruise bluffs his opposing counsel into submission by boasting an extensive knowledge of pre-trial procedures and evidentiary motions that can delay a trial seemingly indefinitely: damn if that isn't exactly what I did on this test.

International Trade Law:



I want the truth, if the truth is an A on an exam I'm pretty sure I killed. Self-assuredness is no guarantee, however. Being wrong for Tom Cruise meant treason and death - for law students, being wrong has no effect on the credits you earn. Literally, you cannot flunk out of law school. Seriously.

Administrative Law:



Since I haven't written this one yet, and it scares the hell out of me, this is my best guess.

Victory via Victorians

I've said it before and I'll say it again: when faced with a choice in law school between exam and a paper, always take the paper. That said, I hate writing papers. No matter how many times I latch on to inspiration and wrestle a conclusion out of a paper, the same creative struggle resumes with each new assignment. (The obvious upside, of course, is that this struggle doesn't have to play out in only three hours.)

If there's one trick I might suggest, it's a change of perspective. This can be taken literally - I often find leaving my apartment and relocating to the local Starbucks makes for a healthier more conducive environment. (Note, under no circumstances would I recommend the Curtis Building's library.) But more importantly, it's necessary to understand the overall perspective: you're writing a 25 page paper which, in the grand scheme of things, isn't that much. For instance, this site has 322 posts, averaging 250 words per, and double-spaced essay page has roughly 350 words... so essentially I've written a 230-page essay with no discernible thesis and scattershot citation.

Of course, like any writer, I ignore my own advice quite frequently. This Entertainment Law paper (about my struggles as a screenwriter) has proved no easier after a Grande dark, a Long Americano, and, to shake things up and because I like it - an Orangina.

No easier, that is, until I got a new book: Ben Wilson's The Making of Victorian Values. (It's the book with the boring-sounding title but hilarious cover that currently occupies the equal opportunity music/book java-powered showcase in this blog's sidebar.) The fact that I love the subject matter isn't the point here (though, as an aside, I find Victorians, as an historical segment of society, endlessly amusing and my favourite Shins lyric has always been "Just a glimpse of an ankle and I / react like it's 1805.")

The point is that Ben Wilson, with his immense vocabulary and amazing essay skills - is only 25. He's my age, and he's written an essay twice the length of this entire thing with a far more reliable system of citation. So, I read the prologue of this book last night and I instantly went back to my essay. Not surprisingly, I found it much easier to write: my advice, read what you like, then write what you want.

Man, I really should have been charging for this advice over the last three years.

Wishing "Reading Week" wasn't so literal

There's really no excuse for me not to have this Entertainment Law essay done by week's end, so at least I'm off to a good start. Maybe it was a combination of the double digit warm weather, my apartment patio and the London Fog from Starbucks, but I sat down and read one of the larger books I have for my research from start to finish.

I've only ever read one novel in one sitting, Graham Greene's Ministry of Fear, (to this day one of my favorite books) when I was living in England. Actually, the circumstances were much the same - an abundance of time from having only 3 days of classes a week - except I suppose the London fog was real.

This new book is The Screenwriter's Legal Guide, a book my moot partner introduced me to back in first year when he heard I was writing a script. Like most amateur writers, I ignored all external advice, so it wasn't until this essay that I got the book out from the library. Basically the book is gold for research purposes - ironic because the point that's driven home again and again throughout the book is how unprofitable the television sector of the entertainment industry is, and in particular how little money I could expect to make from selling a spec pilot script.

Howie Mandel must be estopped

In a few hours I'll begin reading week, likely the last time in my life someone will give me time off work to catch up on Hellboy comics. I won't be able to top last year's experience of visiting New York during the break, but I'm lucky enough to live in a city that has plenty of wonders of its own.

And who knows, I might do some work too. I've got the green light to write my Entertainment Law essay on how I would, hypothetically of course, sell my TV pilot to either Canadian or American broadcasters. I suppose I'm looking for legal obligations and creative considerations that would maybe make one route more attractive for Canadian screenwriters and possibly explain the dearth of original programming in this country. I refuse to count Deal or No Deal Canada on so many levels.

I'm not exactly sure where a lot of the research will come from on this one, but I've been told there are quite a few Entertainment Law journals out there - plus I've always got the "How To" screenwriting books I bought years ago, which up until now have only been of aid in the fraudulent advertising and misrepresentation sections of Contract Law.

Bollywood West

I'm working on a presentation for my Entertainment Law class. Despite my years of avoiding labour law - a subject I find confusing and frightening - here I am writing an outline for "Labour Relations in the Film Industry."

Currently, the union representing Canadian actors and performers is on strike, protesting a lack of "new media" residuals and low wages, meaning that American producers might just have to film that New York-based film in, gulp, New York. Foreign film productions are, of course, the major meal ticket for much of the local film industry. Case in point: offices for the law firm where I'll be working next year appear in the opening scenes of the new Fantastic Four trailer, ostensibly set in NYC.

However, research for this presentation has actually been pretty cool. Collective agreements for film production give a wealth of insights on topics such as: arrangements surrounding butt-doubles, child actors' per diems, and how Andy Millman, infamous background performer, would have earned $19.77 an hour for this.

Lawyers will be zombie stand-ins

We are off to the races in the final term. And like each new term, there are some surprises, although I guess I didn't expect them to come from Admin Law. Maybe it's early in the course, but I like what I hear, the profs seem easy-going, and best of all - the reading material is free. This is a benefit understated until I tell you I have to pay $92 for 153 pages in International Trade Law.

I can't speak about the Trade Law class itself because the professor was missing for the inaugural lecture. Say what you will about the generosity of lawyers, we extended the famous 5-minute rule a whole extra half-hour before we left. Or maybe this just speaks to the tenacity of lawyers and their inclination to extend measurements of time...

Thankfully, Entertainment Law is shaping up to be as great as I'd hoped it would be. Speaking of entertainment, there was a large crowd of guests at the school the other day, and word on the street is that they were a film crew scouting locations around the building. Now I'm confused, because the only movie I can picture being filmed at the law building is the British film 28 Weeks Later, the sequel to my favorite movie of 2003, 28 Days Later - but I guess if a plot calls for a dank, impenetrable refuge where people can hide from zombies and possibly a nuclear attack to wipe those zombies out, then, sure, the Curtis Building is the natural choice.