l the lyrics, you don’t have to do that…” Or after you’ve written a section, “Oh, the part where the bird flies in, that’s a running gag, it works like this….” So you have to go back and redo the section now that you know the gag.
In an original series, you usually have some writer’s meetings and you get a pretty comprehensive bible and guidance on these things from the story editors, but with ADR writing, there are often no show bibles, or very thin ones, and the story editors often only come into play after you finish your first draft. So a lot of the time you’re just taking your best guess at everything. If you have an idea for a running gag or a signature phrase for a character, you can put it out there, write a note in the script suggesting that the other writers pick up on the idea. Often there’s not enough communication for the other writers to get the message. For instance, on Gatchaman (Eagle Riders) I had the idea that the ship’s computer could have different “personality settings,” so that it would have different character voices in different episodes. Though the idea was used for that episode, it never passed on to other writers. In other cases, however, running gags or signature ideas do get passed around and become part of the series.
For story editors, the process is different than for writers. You attend meetings with producers – sometimes network executives or other executives on the project. We discuss how the series works, the
characters, the arc of the series (how it changes from the first episode to the last) and all other considerations relating to the scripts. Then writers receive tapes and translations – usually one tape at a time – the
translation may be in hard copy, or it may be sent as an e-mail attachment or delivered on disc. The writer is also given a deadline to complete the script (typically ridiculously short).
The writer takes the tape home and works on his own equipment — video equipment with good frame control is essential — or the alternative is to have the tape digitized and work on your computer rather than on a VCR: this is still rare, but will probably become common over the next few years.
The writer generally watches the whole episode, reads the translation, then goes to work. If you’re lucky enough to be working with a savvy producer like Rita Majkut or Jamie Simone at ABC, they may talk you through the episode letting you know what direction they want to go with it – but that’s rare. Most of the time you’re on your own for the first draft.
To break it down technically: The script will include time codes and dialogue. The time code works like this: each frame has a number, you can see it on the screen — 30 frames for each second of screen time. So when a character starts speaking, we note the frame number where he starts. When he stops speaking, we note the frame number where he stops. Then we write the line to fit in that space. That way, in the recording studio, the engineer can punch these numbers into his recording equipment, so he and the actors and director can
instantly find the location of the line and easily record the new English line at that spot. This speeds up the recording process immeasurably and, more importantly, it allows the actors to maintain their momentum and focus so they can concentrate on their characters and not be slowed down by technical issues.
So the writer’s work is a mix of creative work, writing dialogue, and non-creative detail work, locating and recording time code numbers. Time coding is a boring technical exercise. There are a few people around who only do time codes: sometimes writers farm out that part of the work to these coders (bless them). But usually the writer does his own codes. You can do all of the codes in a single pass before you start writing: some writers prefer that because at that point you’re just focusing on numbers, that frees you up later to just focus on dialogue. Also, by the time you’ve done a numbers pass, you’ve watched every scene and you’re a little more familiar with the episode. Other writers prefer to do the codes as they go, putting in numbers and dialogue one loop at a time. I work either way depending on how I’m feeling at the moment.
With the Cowboy Bebop Movie we did this all backwards. We received tapes with no time code so we had to write all the lines first, then later gave it to a time coder who went back and spotted all the numbers. This is a very difficult way to work, not recommended. Similarly, I worked on just time codes for Laputa and Kiki’s delivery services for Disney because they re-edited after the script was complete, so we had to go back and redo all of the numbers. Along with dialogue, numbers must be spotted every time a character gasps, grunts, or makes any kind of sound. So this process typically involves 15 or 16 thousand code numbers on a full length script: you can easily go number crazy doing it.
Putting in numbers entails finding the start point for each loop. A loop is when an actor speaks or makes a sound. So every time an actor will need to say a line, or gasp, or cry, or make any other sound, you need to find the spot where he will begin and note the frame number. — Those numbers later go to an engineer who punches them into the recording system so that when we’re recording we can move very rapidly from one loop to the next without hunting around for spots. This saves lots of time in recording, but, perhaps more important, it allows the actor to maintain their momentum and focus so they can concentrate on their character and not be slowed down by technical issues.
As I mentioned, the main part of the job is, of course, trying to write great creative dialogue that syncs and moves the story forward, but concurrently, you are trying to provide the director, actors, engineer and producers with what they need to have smooth, efficient recording sessions. So as you work, you always want to keep the recording session in mind. My goal is to make everyone at the session feel that the script is on their side, supporting them, giving them the info they need, notes, codes, whatever it may be. I don’t want them to feel they’re struggling with my script, working to interpret or adjust it, or feeling that there are things missing. Of course none of this ultimately prevents them from trashing the writer. It’s a running joke in the business that when things go wrong at a recording session you always blame the writer, mostly because he’s not there, so he’s a natural target. So when the writer sits in on a session, it ruins everyone’s fun: they have to find someone else to blame. The receptionist!
Back to the writing process: as you’re working your way through the video, you’re stopping at each loop, figuring out what the character should be saying here, and then crafting it to fit into the mouth movement and/or time slot. You come up with a possible line, then speak it out loud while watching the picture to see if it will fit. Then you start adjusting it, shorter or longer. Or you decide it’s not good enough, so you throw it out and try another line. In this way you go over and over the same 3 second spot relentlessly until you nail it down. Then you move on to the next 2 ½ second spot, etc, for 300 to 500 spots per 22 minutes. By the way, this can have in interesting impact on your relationship with the neighbors: if they happen to be passing by as you are repeatedly shouting out “I will take over the universe! NOTHING CAN STOP ME! HAHAHAHAHA!” it may tend to color their opinion of you. Well, you probably didn’t want to be invited to their party anyway.
In addition to writing each line, you also put in any parentheticals that will help the actor. Parentheticals such as (sadly) or (harsh) or (shouting out) are usually kept to a minimum in original scripts, however, for ADR scripts, the more guidance you can give the actor, the better. You also have to include notes letting the actor and director know if this line is on camera or off camera and many other technical notations. It’s very painstaking — drives a lot of people nuts. Some people think that’s what happened to me, but those who know me well would assure you that I lost sanity long before I started doing this. That’s probably why it seemed like a good idea.
When I finish the first draft, I do a read through and polish — I don’t know if other writers do this or not. Virtually all writers who write original episodes do multiple re-drafts and polishes, but with ADR scripts I don’t know if they do. I read through to feel the flow of the dialogue, usually making small adjustments as I go.
Everything in the script is laid out so it will be easy for the actors and directors to work with it in the recording studio. When we’re finished with the writing, we create “breakdowns,” “loop counts” and other documents to help with the planning and recording of the episode. A breakdown is a technical sheet listing all of the loops for each character, and a loop count with total numbers of loops for each character. When it’s complete, it is usually e-mailed to the company, along with a synopsis telling the story in brief, typically half a page, and any relevant notes.
Then you wait for the producers/ story editors to send notes telling you what changes you need to make for the next draft. As soon as you read their notes, you realize with absolute certainty that they don’t know squat about writing or anime or anything else, and they certainly do not appreciate the great genius you put into this script —- however, once you begin to make the changes they suggested, you often realize that they’re a lot smarter than you thought, and they actually had a lot of good ideas that have improved the script after all.
SM: Does it help to know the original language?
MH: I think it’s helpful and more enjoyable. I worked on a live-action tele-novella called La Dama dela Rosa — the most-work/least-pay ADR job I’ve ever done. I speak enough Spanish that I could follow most of the dialogue and have my own take on it — that made it more fun and gave me extra-ideas as I was writing. This would be even more true for someone who spoke Japanese; because the structure of the language is so different from English, there are many more options of how to interpret any given line, so knowing the language would be more helpful. I wish with all my heart I could speak Japanese, but I’m still on the same beginning Japanese book I was on a year ago. I don’t know of a single anime ADR writer who speaks Japanese. It would not make a major difference in their writing, but it would be a nice addition for any of us.
As I mentioned, on the Cowboy Bebop Movie and on FLCL I was working closely with Japanese speakers and I was able to ask lots of language questions. The FLCL script had copious language notes — that was ideal. That process makes you realize how open-to-interpretation it all is. E.g., in The Cowboy Bebop Movie, there’s a scene where Vincent leaves Faye tied up on the floor as he goes out to unleash his nano-machine gas. His parting line to Faye is about Purgatory. In Vincent’s earlier dialogue, he characterizes the whole world as a kind of Purgatory. I went over the script with two native Japanese speakers, both with excellent English skills. One of them insisted that Vincent was telling Faye, “After I leave you can watch what’s going to happen to this purgatory,” meaning, to this world, earth, which is a kind of purgatory. But the other Japanese speaker insisted, with equal vigor, that Vincent was saying, “You can watch what’s going to happen FROM your own purgatory” – an entirely different idea: that Vincent was leaving her tied up, alone, miserable, stuck in her own personal purgatory. This kind of discrepancy is very common. It is not a case of one translator being right and the other wrong. The original writer purposely left it open to interpretation, so an attempt at “literal translation” would not solve the problem. As I mentioned before, fans often talk about literal translations in an absolute way, and someone who is from Japan or lived there will sometimes insist that they know what the line actually means, but the reality is, Japanese people tend to communicate in non-specific ways, through innuendo, implication, and intentionally ambiguous phrasings – especially in stories. Plus the structure of the language is very different. So trying to nail down an exact meaning is very iffy at best.
To use a very simple every day example: The Japanese “O genki desuka” is usually translated “How are you?” A very literal translation of O genki desuka would look something like this:
“Respectfully, healthy is ?”
The “you” is implied. Obviously if you had a character say this, the American viewer would be totally lost. A more sensible direct translation might be
“Are you healthy?” or “Are you in good health?”
This actually makes more sense when you see how this phrase is used in Japan: they generally don’t use it as an everyday greeting as we do with “How are you?” — implying “How are you feeling today?” or “How are things going today?” They are more likely to use it after they haven’t seen someone for a long time, the way we would use, “How’s your health?” or “Have you been feeling okay?”
So a translator could choose any of these phrases, “How are you?” “Are you healthy?” “Are you feeling okay?” “How’s your health?” etc., and each would have a different implication in the context of the scene. So if the writer spoke the language, he might look at the scene and say, “Oh, the translator is saying “How are you?” but in this case, the character has been ill so it would be better to have the character say, “How’s your health?” In short, you could make better choices with more knowledge of the language.
SM: Would it help to be more familiar with the original storyline?
MH: The more familiar you are with the storyline, the better.
SM: What kinds of spec scripts are used to get jobs doing ADR?
MH: I have never seen full ADR spec scripts used to get ADR jobs. It may happen, but I haven’t seen it. Saban/Fox ran a few workshops where they taught adr writing and they had people write a scene or two on spec. That’s enough to see if the writer understands the form and can write to picture, and to get a sense of how they write dialogue. So I guess you could write a few scenes of something and hand it to a producer along with the tape — it’s a bit complicated. Usually, when they hire someone for this, it’s kind of a leap of faith. One comedy show I worked on asked for non-ADR sample scripts — they just wanted to see if you could write funny. Many of the writers being considered didn’t have any non-ADR samples; they only wrote ADR, and the ADR scripts don’t work very well as comedy samples because you can’t get most of the jokes from just reading the dialogue without seeing the picture. ADR scripts are only dialogue and technical notes – there are no scene descriptions, so when you read it, there’s no context for the jokes. In original scripts it’s much easier for the reader to get the joke. So for an ADR writer looking for work, it might be helpful to have some good strong non-ADR writing samples for an adventure script and/or a comedy script, depending on the kind of project it is, just to give a producer or story editor a feeling for the kind of dialogue you write. But this doesn’t come up often.
SM: Is dubbing animation more of a popular fad now that will fade, or do you believe it is here to stay in the mainstream?
MH: Ha. I talked to someone recently who had a possible investor for new projects. I said, “Ask if he’s interested in investing in importing shows from Asia.” He checked with his inside-the-business friends and called me back a few days later announcing that the consensus was: anime is just a minor trend and will soon be out of style.
My answer: That’s what they said about rock and roll.
I have been living in various Asian countries about half the time for the last few years and it is crystal clear to me that, in the coming years, more and more entertainment projects will be imported into the US. This is just a small part of a much larger global trend of countries trading entertainment products the same way they have long been trading food products, technical products, etc. Imagine asking a Thai four hundred years ago when they first brought peanuts and chile from the Americas whether these foods would catch on in Thailand. I can just feature some Thai old-timer saying, “These chile peppers are too hot! And the peanuts taste funny! Our people will never eat these strange foods!” — Most Thais today eat so much of this stuff, they don’t even realize these foods aren’t native to their country. The music we listen to in the US is a mix mostly of European and African music with some other influences thrown in — but you forget about where it came from and just think of it as American music. The Astro Boy series that I’m working on now is a cultural mix. It’s definitely Japanese, but it there is heavy American influence. We’re moving toward something that would be neither Japanese nor American, but a genre of it’s own with influences from both.
Overall, I think Americans have a very inflated view of the value of their own entertainment products. It’s true American movies are sold around the world. I’m very happy about that — but if you watch TV in any Asian country, flip the channels and you are much more likely to see period Chinese dramas (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon style); Thai soap-operas; Baliwood Indian musicals; Hong Kong kung fu movies; and of course Japanese Anime. These shows are imported and exported from one Asian country to the next, and dubbed into the local language, usually very badly (although I recently saw a superb live-action Japanese dub of an American sit-com, so they’re starting to catch on).
American “youth culture” was turned on in the 60s by English rock bands (who were, oddly enough, imitating American black blues artists). Today young people are turned on by Japanese Anime, Salsa dancing, and World Music, among many other influences. These things are beyond the control of US industries that would rather keep them buying home-grown entertainment products. It is very clear to me that in the coming years, young Americans will be more and more influenced by interesting trends and styles and ideas coming at them from many different cultures: as a country becomes more economically viable, people have more leisure time, and young people start producing new interesting kinds of music, dance, film, animation, and new art forms emerge that reflect their culture. As they burst onto the scene, these forms will often have strong appeal to people in other cultures. Satellites, the internet, and other global technologies allow these new forms to be disseminated quickly to other countries where they can catch on and rapidly become a part of that culture as well. The way hip-hop can move from black neighborhoods to white neighborhoods today, that is how trends will move from one continent to another in the near future: we’re most of the way there already. In the near term, look for powerful cultural trends coming into America from Japan, China, and Brazil (Handler predicts!)
Viewers in most countries are used to watching dubbed films, and American viewers are also starting to get used to it. As dubs get better and better and foreign products get more and more attractive, it’s inevitable that importation and dubbing will expand.
SM: Where are the dub companies located?
MH: Don’t know. I just work for the ones that call me up. If I had to track them down, I guess I’d go to anime websites, check the credits on anime video releases, and/or check the Hollywood Reporter annual animation issue. In the Southern California area, they tend to be in and around Burbank (where Disney and WB are located), and in the Hollywood and Santa Monica areas. Of course there are also dubbing companies in Canada where they pay even less than American companies do. Going north anyone?
SM: Do you have any final advice for people who want to get into writing scripts for dubbing animation?
Man, this is always the hardest question. I want to give good helpful encouraging advice but if I sounded very encouraging it would be a big fat lie. The truth is, it’s very hard to break into dub writing and if you do break in, it’s very hard to make a living at it. It doesn’t pay well as entertainment jobs go, and no benefits. Many ADR writers are also actors or directors: only by juggling 2 or 3 jobs do they make a passable living, and even then, it’s up and down — good years, bad years.
The problem with breaking in is, there just aren’t that many jobs and it’s so technical that most producers are very reluctant to try a new writer. It has nothing to do with the new writer’s talent. He may be very talented – but it’s still going to take him a while to master all the technical aspects of adr writing and to get the hang of writing to a picture that’s already there.
A lot of people never get it; others try one script and swear they’ll never write an ADR script again. They hate it. I’ve known several writers like that. A big issue is writing short or long. You have to be able to speak your lines out loud to the mouth movement in the picture and time the line accurately. It’s very typical for a new writer to write too long, i.e. all of his lines have too many words for the mouth-movement of the character — or too short, i.e. all of his lines have too few words for the mouth-movement of the character. In either case, the director ends up cursing the writer because he has to rewrite every line at the recording session. That means the sessions go long and the producers blame him, the director. And all of this ultimately costs money. This is why, when producers do try new writers, they often choose ADR actors. Typically, the actors have no training in story structure or writing, but they know how to speak lines to picture, so they can accurately time the lines. That’s what you’re up against.
Beyond that, your best chance of breaking in is by contacting a company when they are just starting a new series and they may need to fill out their writing staff. Be persistent in a nice way. It’s hard to find the line between friendly-persistent and obnoxiously pushy. Try to find it.
If you get a shot at a job, it would be ideal if you could get an experienced ADR actor to help you go over your lines and determine if they are short or long or fit picture. Or ask the producer if you can turn in your first 5 or 6 pages and get early feedback so you can make adjustments at an early stage.
Also, get a high quality VCR with a jog wheel with very good single frame forward and back. It shouldn’t jump when you try to go one frame forward or back, and it should hold a steady picture when it’s on pause, no jiggling. This sounds like funny advice, but it is much more important than you would think. If you’re very technically savvy, you may be able to skip the VCR and do it all on your computer, but you’d need to digitize the picture from the tape.
Also, take your first opportunity to sit in on any ADR recording sessions you can. When you see how the directors and actors work with an ADR script, you get a much better idea of how to give them what they need, and you can personalize the script to the particular director and cast.
Of course the other way to do it, the best way, is the Spike Lee way: do your own project. Import your own OVA or whatever and write and produce it yourself. Then you have a finished product to show, not just a spec script. If it’s successful, people will be coming to you for jobs, not the other way around. In fact, now that I think about it, my official suggestion is: import a whole series. Then, when you need some more writers to complete the project, give me a call.