I wonder how many of the series being pitched in my university’s Television Scriptwriting unit this semester are
edgy, sexy shows about the life of a struggling writer in a big city? Three episodes in, Californication does seem like writer porn of the highest order. It’s the life every young writer dreams of — babes, smooth talking, throwing up on paintings that deserve it, more babes…
Well, the guys, anyway.
(OK, some of the girls, too.)
In unrelated news, post-production for science fiction shorts less fun than previously expected. Damned bluescreens.