Every writer and every producer can tell you that for every successful idea, a hundred more ended up lying in a wastepaper basket somewhere or scooped up into a folder to use later, only to languish, forgotten by all.
While every movie and television have a process of becoming what they are, the focus of this article will be materials from papers of Gene L. Coon and of George Pal, which are housed at the American Heritage Center. Both were men who worked in Hollywood in the early to mid-20th century, and their collections contain scripts, director notes and other sundries involved with the magic of bringing vision to life.
Coon was a prolific screenwriter and is often known as “The Other Gene” by Star Trek fans, being known as the man who invented the Klingons and other mainstays of the franchise. George Pal was a producer and director who invented Puppetoons – a specific type of stop-motion. He was a prolific producer of science fiction and fantasy films in the 1950s and 1960s, including a long attempt at adapting the sci-fi dystopia novel Logan’s Run that he eventually left for another project. Both collections reveal how the magic of Hollywood involves hard work, frustration, and a bit of luck.
According to David Gerrold in his book The Trouble with Tribbles, which serves as both a memoir about the famous Star Trek episode of the same name and a guidebook on how to write scripts, Star Trek, being a high-profile show, received about 6,000 script submissions per year. However, out of those numerous submissions, the show would purchase a maximum of 30 scripts. So, most of the proposed storylines never saw the light of day. Sometimes it was because the scripts were poorly written, out of tone with the series or characters. Other times it was just a simple numbers game that an otherwise good script was set aside for an excellent one. Gerrold was one of the lucky few considering that, at the time, he was not a professional screenwriter but a fan who submitted a funny little script about a bunch of adorable critters that ate voraciously and were born pregnant.
American TV shows often have Writer’s Rooms, where scriptwriters and producers collaborate to ensure continuity, discuss casting, plan scene production, and manage episode budgets. Below are excerpts from supplementary pages for Star Trek outlining the format of a script and guidelines on how to write an episode for the series.
In the list of rules and advice provided to the writers, several key points were emphasized. First, writers were cautioned against having characters behave illogically solely for the purpose of advancing the plot. Second, they were instructed to prioritize the development of the crew over the showcasing of science fiction technology and wonders. Additionally, even minor details were addressed, such as reminding writers to indicate when a change in set or a specific type of prop would be necessary, to assist the set designers and prop masters in their preparations.
While Star Trek may look primitive and hokey by today’s standards, the original series was mid-high budget for the era – running between $170,000-$200,000 per episode (equivalent to 1.59-1.87 million in today’s dollars), so the production team wanted to avoid having to do retakes due to miscommunication.
Scripts for established shows can run through editing passes, despite the pressures of having a new episode every week, and a frequent practice was to film episodes back-to-back to avoid missing airtime; even in this demanding environment, editing and rewriting scripts are still part of the process. Sometimes, it is minor, such as replacing a line to enhance the flow or to clarify a point; occasionally, the modifications are more significant. For instance, if a real-life tragedy were to occur, a chosen script could be considered in exceedingly poor taste if aired unaltered without allowing a considerable amount of time to pass.
Another common reason for a script change is if an actor is unavailable due to illness or other obligations, which, depending on the prominence of the character, can range from simply inserting a line explaining why the character is not present to completely rewriting the plot. First drafts can often indicate a writer’s first instinct or the original trajectory of a plotline or character. Just as plans do not survive first contact with the enemy, to paraphrase an old war aphorism, no concept remains unchanged regarding filming.
Long-time fans of the original Star Trek series may notice multiple differences between character concepts and what aired on television. Yeoman Janice Rand, portrayed by actress Grace Lee Whitney, was initially intended to be a major supporting character in the series. Nonetheless, midway through the first season, Whitney was released from the show due to personal issues. As a result, the character of Yeoman Rand vanished from the series without any explanation or further mention.
Another striking difference is in Dr. Leonard McCoy’s presentation – his overall character as the sharp-tongued doctor remained, but the idea of him being a maverick who often didn’t wear his uniform was dropped in the show’s final version. This was probably done to save the costumers from having to create futuristic casual menswear and to make it easier to recycle footage, if necessary. Writers were always reminded to keep the budget in mind.
One of Sulu’s alien plants is written as a semi-intelligent being that is affectionate towards Yeoman Rand and semi-ambulatory. That scenario was left on the cutting room floor by the writers who perhaps realized this might not be a good gag.
Scripting is only one part of the job. Set design, costuming, gathering a film crew, casting, location scouting, setting a filming schedule, and fighting with executives over the budget makes up the rest of the process. In the papers of George Pal, we can see the reams of paperwork and notes from Pal and associates regarding his doomed attempt at adapting Logan’s Run, starting in 1969 and lasting until he left the project in the early 1970s.
Among the collections are minutes of production meetings and lists of directors with notes on their directorial styles and availability. Other tidbits are also included, revealing the influence of internal studio politics on the details of a project. For instance, one man was dismissed because he “Does fine work but spends $ like a drunken sailor,” while another was dismissed because “Ramsey no longer likes him since the last Presley picture.” In this case, Ramsey refers to G. Clark Ramsey, who was the Vice President of MGM’s productions at the time. If a director had fallen out of favor, Pal deemed it wise not to consider them. Roman Polanski had been approached for Logan’s Run project, but he turned it down. Pal raved about Guy Green (A Patch of Blue) but was turned down for “Not being his kind of script.” John Boorman (Point Blank) has “Not avail., THANK GOD.”
The evolution of scripts can result in the finished product resembling nothing like the original pitch or with one person’s ideas completely subsumed by another’s. Genesis II – produced and co-written by Gene Roddenberry – is an interesting case. The product that aired in 1973 is a different beast from the original story treatment written by Gene L. Coon. NASA scientist Dylan Hunt (not to be confused with the protagonist in Andromeda) – the modern man thrown into the post-apocalyptic future with an H.G. Welles-que conflict between pacifistic humans and tyrannical mutants – existed nowhere in Coon’s story treatment.
Gene L. Coon’s initial pitch for the show featured a cast of fifteen survivors from a 400-person expedition group. These survivors were attempting to survive with limited supplies while trying to solve a mystery stemming from remnants of a long-gone civilization. Although beholden to the requirement that every female crew member must be young and pretty, and despite some dodgy names for non-Anglo characters, this cast of fifteen was surprisingly diverse for 1960s-1970s television. Half the cast were people of color, and about half of them were women. But it still suffered from the fact that the black man was the first casualty among the crew, and every single woman was described as either “pretty” or “beautiful.”
The slug-like Durgas seem to have become the two-navel Tyranians, for budget reasons or believability in costuming/puppetry. One can only imagine the pitch session between the two Genes that resulted in a wildly different final product. Coon’s death prior to the premiere of the TV movie likely prevented the idea of adapting his concept of Genesis II. Roddenberry’s version did successfully premiere as a TV movie but failed to turn into a series as he had envisioned.
The archives at the AHC present us with an oft-unseen aspect of filmmaking. These records provide tantalizing glimpses of what could have been, showcasing the hard work that went into the projects that ultimately came to fruition, as well as those that never materialized. The AHC holds hold many television and film scripts that lay largely forgotten in folders, like George Pal’s version of Logan’s Run and Gene L. Coon’s plans for Genesis II. Even though these projects didn’t end up happening, the scripts and papers provide an interesting look at how the creative process works behind the scenes. They are tangible, curious examples of the “what could have been” ideas that were left on the proverbial cutting room floor.
Post contributed by AHC intern Brittany Pope.
