On Christmas Eve I was lying on the sofa, barely in phase with reality whilst watching a film I think can best be described as a ‘pile of shit’.
Possibly a ‘steaming pile of shit’ I’m not sure.
Anyway, in the midst of wondering who got paid to write this crap and why – I had the idea. The BIG idea. The big budget, Hollywood only, guaranteed money-maker and permanent position on the all-time favourites list idea.
It’s a great idea, an amazing idea and a weirdly obvious idea which I can’t really believe no one else has ever thought of.
It’s one of those high-concept ideas which once you’ve had the initial spark just unravels into a complete film. So complete in fact I was instantly able to pitch it to Mandy in it’s entirety.
I had to wake her up first, which didn’t go down to well – but once she’d stopped swearing at me I think she enjoyed it.
So now I have it – the BIG idea. The one we’re all searching for. I have it. Me.
Unfortunately I haven’t got time to write it for at least several months and I’m fairly certain someone else will get there first.
Bugger.
Expect me to be claiming I had the idea first when the film premieres in a few years time.
The Jobbing Scriptwriter 
Yep. Someone else is writing your idea right now. Could be me. I write nothing but high concept ideas. Unfortunately high-concept ideas then to be quite fond of the zeitgeist.
Good luck. I think you should try and squeeze it out, no matter. Maybe a page a day?
*tend to be, not then to be . . . but tend you knew that. Rats!
The day I sent my concept + first ten pages to the Red Planet competition I read that American TV just ordered a pilot with a very, very, very, very, VERY similar premise. It happens, but you can only learn from it and tell yourself: cool. My idea – as long as I didn’t copy it from somewhere – is worth something for somebody.
Is it Monkey Tennis?
Yes.
Damn,
I’ve already had that idea.
And that one.
Yeah, that one too.
In fact, all of them. I’ve already had every idea there’s ever been.
Sorry.
Erm, no, sorry Mr Campbell. I had them first. As I say, sorry.
If you want – and just throwing this out, here. If you want, I could write it – you know, if you’re busy and stuff. I’d be happy to give you a mention in my speech to the Academy.
Book it in for three months time.
It’s a paying gig that you’re paying for yourself. Write yourself an IOU if you have to.
Wait… first we have your ‘Secret’ (the ‘2008’ blog post)… and now the ‘Big Idea’.
Damn you and your teasing Mr. Barron.
Paul and Lara – I think the only way to settle this is some kind of naked, pudding-based fight.
Gerry – sure. It’s about these monkeys who learn to play tennis …
Piers – the only problem with IOUs is they have a very limited distribution – considerably less than Disney Dollars in fact.
Darren – in truth there is neither idea nor secret, I’m just trying to make myself seem cooler.
If Lara agrees to this fight, then I demand to be referee.
Ah yes, but you would say that, wouldn’t you… one of them double-bluff thingamajigs.
You have a secret and a big idea. Nothing you can say now will convince me otherwise. I am doomed for eternity, trying to find out…
Oh… and Happy New Year.
Can I put in a bid for tapioca?
The Big idea? You’re 21 years too late.
I think you’ll find that Tom Hanks has had a go at that already…
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0094737/plotsummary
Jeremy aka crusty nomad in a previous life
Jason: We’ll only let you referee if you’re naked too.
And there’s a very important question which we haven’t yet established an answer to:
What sort of pudding, exactly, will be involved?
Jeremy – I think it’s due for a remake and I’m just the insensitive writer to ruin it for a new generation.
Piers – So far there’s one bid for tapioca. I’m more of a custard man myself.
I vote for chocolate mousse.