Collected notes #6

On rejection, the insane work ethic of film workers, and the Netflix-Paramount-Warner Brothers bidding war

Art by Jens Östberg

First, a short message - Screenwriter’s Notebook is evolving, aiming to become a more distinct experience: introducing the two pillars, designed to nurture and safeguard the entire process from idea, to creation, to owning:

Transformation & Authorship - Write with purpose, Direct with clarity, and Own your work.

Transformation, as in:

1 - the fluidity and adaptability of the artist

2 - the core narrative principle of any story

Authorship - where you stay firm, where you protect: your core values, your purpose, your creative and legal ownership.

From here on, all new features will be guided by the two pillars. But don’t worry - if you like what you’ve seen so far, you can expect more of the same:

• Longer essays that delve into films, filmmaking, and creative philosophy, the occasional take on culture and politics

• Shorter articles that uncover creative pathways or target on set pain points

• Collected notes, a best-of series of compact advice

In addition, new features will be introduced over the next year.

Now, on to Collected notes #6 !

2025-09-18

Rejection.

You can be the most skilled person on earth. You can master structure, character, dialogue. If you let rejection get to you, none of that will matter.

The feeling of being rejected is just raw pain. Real or imagined, doesn’t matter. It’s the same.

Now: look at that rejection. Focus on it. Stare it down like a boxing opponent, if you want.

Now: put it to the side.

Understand: you’re stronger than before.

Rejection is nothing more than resistance training for the soul. The more rejections, the more resistance. The more resistance, the stronger your soul will be.

In the end, it’s math. How many rejections can you take and keep going? Because eventually, you’ll get a yes. And then another one. And another one.

It’s a natural law. It’s what happens when you do something again, again, and again.

The truth is, without a ton of rejections, you won’t last. Use them like kettlebells; lift them, put them away. Wear them like medals and badges of honor. Talk about them, proudly, with your partner, your children, your friends, and yes, your parents. Rejections aren’t shameful. They’re the opposite: they’re proof that you’re in the fight.

You’re saying you just got hit with another rejection? Damn, I’m proud of you. You’re my hero.

➝ Long story short: it really is math. Knock on one door, the chance is almost non-existent. Knock on a 100, and 5-10 doors will open – and that’s not wishful thinking: statistically, it’s expected.

➝ Real world: just as I read this back again… it’s the exact thing I needed to be reminded of.

I currently have 6 partnered projects in active development, another 10 or so in various stages of incubation. I’ve never had so much on the table. This spring, I was bracing for hard choices: if just one or two projects got the greenlight, I might have to let go of some of the others. And that would be heartbreaking. They’re all strong. Then, one of the big 6 stumbled. And then the next… and then, the next...

Right now, I’d say 3 are alive and showing promise, still. But after 3 hits in a row, it’s like the brain can’t not brace for another. It’s becoming harder to imagine a win.

This is a rough phase to be in, mentally and emotionally.

Maybe this is not a period where you feel the most inspired, or the most fun, or the most romantic. It’s fine.

Maybe life feels a bit mechanical. Maybe, you feel the need to focus on basics: food, sleep, resting, family. If that’s the case, that’s exactly what you should do.

Basics ground you. Basics reconnect you to yourself.

➝ Try this: Be kind to yourself.

Define simple things as acts of self-love, like taking a shower or going for a run.

Every small act of self-love will give you a month worth of endurance.

Create enough time to keep developing your ideas, even if you have to work other jobs.

Move one idea a tiny bit each day.

Maybe a project or an idea feels completely stalled. You may feel alone, you may long for validation. This is natural. But remember: as long as you keep looking at your ideas, as long as you stay open for possibilities, they’re not dead.

Keep practicing self-love. With time, being alone will feel like incubation. Potential is growing, quietly. The need for validation will fade away.

Do your best with what you can control. And if that’s not enough, it doesn’t mean that what you put one the table was bad. It might be that another project fit right in with a new guideline. It could be that they’re looking for a project with a European connection, because of EU-funding. It could be anything.

A rejection is not a receipt of your worth, not as an artist, not as a person.

It’s information. And you can decide what to do with that information.

People can say no until they’re blue in the face. Your long-term strategy stays the same.

Again: it’s math. And you can make the numbers work for you.

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2025-09-19

This is something that I consistently forget, watching series and films: the amount of work that goes into every single one of them.

I do this for a living, and I still forget. I don’t know if that’s because of how immersed I am in the fiction, or how quickly I forget the hard, unforgiving grind of actually doing it.

Whenever I remember, like I did when I watched the first episode of Task the other day, and I imagine all the rehearsals and the tech mishaps and the cut-outs, I’m flooded by this awe and warmth towards all the film workers out there. Someone:

- had the idea

- put the pitch together

- financed it

- wrote the script

- found and secured the locations

- cast it

- did the costume

- did the scenography

- did the props

- acted in it

- directed it

- shot it

- recorded the sound

- catered it

- did all the admin

- edited it

- color corrected it

- did the music

- made the sound design

- distributed it

And here’s the truly humbling part: it doesn’t matter if it’s the worst piece of shit you’ve ever seen.

People still put in the same amount of work.

➝ Long story short: film workers are the most dedicated, most hard-working, most durable people. Therefore, you must protect them and treat them with great care.

➝ Real world: a man, a 1^st Assistant Camera (the person right next to the Director of Photography) excused himself to do some personal messaging. As we were pressed for time I asked him if it was urgent. He nodded and said: it’s my next job.

This man was in the middle of a situation that’s similar to a military operation, and he has to talk to someone about his next op. I’m demanding their full attention – but their next employer is also demanding their full attention. And still, they find a way to make it work. They have to; competition is fierce. If they can’t handle it, someone else will.

I’m not saying that every film worker is a saint, but I honestly believe there are no lazy ones. There will be one here and there, sure, but you probably won’t see them again. You simply can’t sustain a career in film being less than vigilant.

➝ Try this: It’s not about the director having to cuddle the crew. But small things make a world of difference. Internalize these little gestures, so they become second nature:

• Learn everyone’s name, and make a point out of using them

• Be calm even when you’re stressed out

• Never correct people so others can hear

• If you fucked up, apologize in front of everyone

• Always be on site 20 minutes early

• You can be laser focused and still be respectful

• Be mindful of people’s personal space

• Don’t take extra work for granted

• Don’t hold grudges

• Always stay vigilant about safety

• Know when to do longer talks and when to give brief instructions

• If you see just a touch of inappropriate behavior, no time to lose. Nip it in the bud that same day

• For personal talks, create space that feels safe and unrushed

• Say thank you even when people do what’s expected of them

• Offer a smile now and then

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Industry tidbit – or more like industry BOMB.

If the Taylor Sheridan move from Paramount to NBC Universal was big, the ongoing Netflix-Paramount-Warner Brothers war could have seismic consequences. It’s a throwdown of classic giants, Godzilla vs King Kong vs… some freshman big bad… Vecna?

Everybody and their mother have already commented on this development, so if you follow industry news you know the basics. If you don’t, here’s a brief summary:

Netflix has put USD 82,7 billion on the table in a bid to acquire Warner Brothers, including HBO and HBO Max, the DC Universe (Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman etc), Harry Potter, and much more.

Warner Brothers is one of six major Hollywood studios, known as the ‘Big Six’: WB, Disney, Paramount, Universal, 20^th Century Fox, Columbia/Sony. Even though they all have stakes in streaming, they generally want longer theatrical windows, meaning the period a film stays on the big screen before moving to streaming. The longer films stay theatrical, the better the chance to make money for the chains. Netflix wants no or very short theatrical windows, usually three weeks, mostly to qualify for awards.

If Warner Brothers becomes a part of Netflix, it’s likely that roughly a 5^th of theatrical output disappears, as Netflix prioritizes streaming. That would make the situation even more dire for struggling theatrical chains.

And now, as they say - plot twist: Paramount just launched a hostile all-cash bid for Warner Brothers at USD 108 billion. If you’re looking to research ‘high stakes bidding war’, this is it.

And look: Paramount’s CEO is David Ellison. David’s father is Larry Ellison. Larry is close with Donald. And look again: partnering on the bid with Paramount is Affinity. Affinity is founded by Jared Kushner. Kushner is Trump’s son-in-law.

Trump now says he’s going to look into the Netflix deal, floating that it might be problematic. He looks very concerned. He says this as president, of course. Not as a friend, or a father-in-law.

I’m no lawyer. But I do know there’s something called conflict of interest. And it’s applied to being a president. And what he or she cannot do.

To be honest, the whole thing just feels sad. And that’s not even getting into the shady side of it.

Netflix becoming the biggest media behemoth on earth. Who’d a thunk it, not even 10 years ago. But - I’m not going to say it’s all horrible, and let’s (pretend to) fight it! Or, this in inevitable, join the future or die! Which seems to be the two dominating discourses.

Money and power, sure. But wow, it’s… I don’t know… boring. Let’s talk about something else! Like what’s at stake for you and me.

I’m old enough to remember when going to the movies was an event, full of wonder and magic, anticipation, excitement. Breakdance - The Movie at the local cinema in the little town I grew up in, spontaneously catching The Matrix not knowing what it was, being completely blown away.

I don’t think anybody is against movie theatres. I can’t see anyone argue with the big screen being the superior viewing experience. The big screen isn’t the problem. Screens are the problem.

In a very short time, the word ‘screen’ has moved from positive to negative connotations in the public mind. ‘The silver screen’ used to evoke glamour, beauty, something otherworldly. Talk about ‘screens’ today and it’s likely part of something bad, like a parent wondering how they’ll ever get their kids to read a book. The word ‘screen’ might not sound as bad as ‘cigarette’, yet – but it’s well on its way.

The theatrical screen was merely the first, and arguably the best, in a long line of screens - from TVs, to computers, laptops, Ipads, and of course, smartphones. Now, you have screens with moving visuals in every restaurant, every café, every commercial space, outdoors, indoors, on the subway. Menus, train schedules, mini-ads in a never-ending loop. And the number of screens is only going to grow.

After a full day of screen exposure, half of it of my own free will… honestly, I just want to rub my face in wet moss. I’m sorry, cinema warriors, but after eight hours of screens up the wazoo, do you really expect people to want to sit down in front of… another big ass screen? For two more hours? Even if it’s Kubrick’s 2001?

This is the problem that cinema lovers need to think about.

If Netflix gains control of Warner Brothers - again, a fifth of the theatrical production pipeline - and if Netflix keeps prioritizing early living-room access, chains are going to suffer even more. Theatrical chains can hope for the remaining big studios to strike gold more often, but the reality is that blockbusters and sleeper hits are becoming more and more scarce by the quarter.

Netflix, here’s an idea: use a portion of your ginormous profit to create something that would support the survival of cinema. Disney makes serious bank on their theme parks; Netflix could build an experience that’s their version of that, centered on their immense library, and… something communal. Brand it as a new kind of movie-going experience. Entrance by subscription or pay-by-day. You do food, hang-outs, events, themes, genre months, etc, etc. The name is already established: Netflix & Chill (if you can clean up the sleazy subtext).

I get how that sounds like consolidating Netflix’ dominance. But rest assured: the other chains also need to step up and create an experience that goes beyond just watching a big screen. And if Netflix has a stake in that development, it will help all other players – because right now, the enemy of the movie theatre is not a sinister virus; it’s people changing habits. The only way to fight that is to rethink. Shape new habits. Create a new experience.

Maybe, the future of the movie theatre lies within the name: how about joining forces with that gentle, thoughtful, poor cousin that you steal from now and then - theatre. Create specialized venues that can alternate between the two easily. Theatre audiences have a more artistic leaning, making arthouse films and classics a perfect fit.

A lot of fear right now. And I get it. But I’m pretty sure that the people at Netflix also love cinema. That’s how Netflix was born; from the love of movies.

Here’s the thing: I love cinema too - but I also love watching a good series in the comfort of my home. It’s like two ways to travel – by car or by foot, you somehow get to the same place. You can be equally moved, but in different ways. It’s not either or - it’s both.

I’m willing to bet that (Netflix CEO) Ted Sarandos has a few magic childhood movie theatre memories of his own. Let’s hope he wants future kids to get to have those kinds of memories too.

Until next time,

/Jens