grown up. And worst of all, he insists on being right, even when there's no "right" to be
found.
Compared to the gregarious Edward, Will is more difficult to embrace. I knew that when I
wrote him. But knowing that still didn't prepare me for the notes I would receive, most of
which began with some version of, "We don't like Will." I fought the temptation to stand on
my chair and shout that I was Will, and that any attack on the character was an attack on me. I
fought the temptation to soften the character, because to do so would soften the inherent
drama in the story. To me, it didn't matter if you liked Will, as long as you understood his
motivation.
All told, it took five months to write the first draft of the script, more than double what it
usually takes me. Part of the delay was the complexity of the story. Part of it was the release
of StarCraft, an insidiously addictive videogame that has been the downfall of screenwriters
much stronger than me. But when the script was finally finished, I sent it to Daniel Wallace,
who liked it. He had never read a screenplay before, so it was obviously disconcerting to read
a variation on his own work, but he offered surprisingly objective criticism.
(In fact, Wallace was so taken with the screenplay form that he became a screenwriter
himself. In addition to his novels, he's now writing an original movie for Universal.)
The studio read the script and liked it, up to a point. They felt the movie was charming but
expensive, a deadly combination. With all the special effects in the fantasy sequences, the
budget looked to climb over $60 million, which was a very high price tag for what they
ultimately saw as a small, intimate movie. They honored my contract, however, and let me
write a second draft. This version was better, tighter, and not a dime cheaper to shoot.
Without any momentum, the movie was pretty much dead. I took the script to Dan Jinks and
Bruce Cohen, who had just produced AMERICAN BEAUTY. The film hadn't won its Oscars
yet, but was very much admired around town. When Jinks and Cohen agreed to sign on as
producers, Sony couldn't say no. After all, they were well-regarded producers who had just
made a difficult comedy-drama inside the studio system. Working through another draft with
them, we finally had a script the studio would let us send to directors.
But the list was short, and filled with impossible names. Since the movie was going to be
expensive, Sony wanted an A-list director. After a protracted courtship with one such name-
brand filmmaker, we finally found our man in Tim Burton, who was looking for a more
intimate movie after a series of marketing-driven tentpole pictures. He came on board the
project along with producer Richard Zanuck. Burton liked the script just the way it was.
After years of trying to placate directors for various projects, it was disconcerting for me not
to be tweaking and changing, trying new things to tailor my vision to someone else's vision.
Burton just wanted to make the movie. My longest meeting with him probably lasted half an
hour, of which fifteen minutes was spent with one of us saying, "Absolutely. I agree."
When it came time for casting, figuring out how to handle Edward became a problem. Since
we follow the character from the day he's born until the day he dies, we would potentially