Turnaround

Turnaround is a number problem, not a taste problem.
Your producer calls and uses the word turnaround, and you think it's a death sentence. It isn't. Turnaround means the studio stopped spending on your project and is willing to let somebody else pick it up, provided that somebody writes a check covering what's already been spent. Development costs, writer fees, producer overhead, whatever research or art got paid for along the way. Usually with interest. Sometimes with a slice of the back end reserved for the studio that's walking away.
If the studio burned four hundred thousand dollars on your script, the next buyer has to clear four hundred thousand dollars before a single new page exists. That's the real wall. And it explains something you've probably watched happen without understanding. A producer who loves your script goes quiet after the pass. She isn't avoiding you. She's doing math.
Columbia put E.T. in turnaround. Frank Price passed on Melissa Mathison's script after his own marketing people decided a movie about a boy and an alien had a ceiling with small children. Sid Sheinberg at Universal bought it out, repaid Columbia roughly a million dollars in development spend, and let Columbia keep five percent of net profits on the way out the door. Five percent of the biggest film of 1982, for the studio that said no. The script didn't change. The reader did.
So when you get the call, ask three questions before you grieve. What the turnaround number actually is. How long the window runs before the rights go still. And whether the studio wants a piece on the way out, because a heavy back-end demand makes your script harder to place than the cash figure suggests. Your producer knows all three and will tell you if you ask.
A pass is one executive's opinion with a price tag attached. Your job is to find out what the price tag says.




























