THE ART OF compromise is one of the hardest things we’ve had to learn over the years. It’s tricky. Really tricky. And it keeps changing. How we relate, how we avoid pushing each other’s fussy buttons. How we get what we need to feel good about ourselves but also give in enough to be respectful of the other. It’s a huge pain in the ass, but it’s rewarding when we get it right. So, a few thoughts…
When you’re working closely with someone, it’s natural to want to be the “better” one. But this is a nasty impulse. Don’t give in to this one. Jay and I have come to accept that not only does each of us have his own strengths, but there are also certain days where one of us is more “on” than the other, and this dynamic has to be okay. For instance, I have a real knack for moving quickly and brashly through the early phases of the creative process. From banging out a vomit draft of a script to putting together a project’s basic production structure to creating a pitch…I can get something on its feet, quickly, that doesn’t suck. What I have trouble with is closing. But Jay is a master closer. You give him something between fifty and eighty percent done and he can drive that sucker home via his tremendous attention to detail and sheer force of will. And let’s be clear: I am intimidated by Jay’s closing power, and Jay is intimidated by my building power. This is a hard thing to accept at times but ultimately a very good thing. The more we joke about this, praise each other’s strengths, laugh at each other’s weaknesses, the better our work product becomes and the better our vibe together is. But—here’s the hard part—sometimes one of us is just better at both things on a given day. That can be due to the state of burnout, how much sleep we’ve gotten, or just the luck of that day’s brain chemistry. And you have to recognize it and let go of the thing that you are supposed to be good at if your collaborator is beating you at it on a given day. You have to. Or the product will suffer, and your relationship with your collaborator will suffer even more.
There will inevitably come a time when you and your collaborator will get to the place where neither of you is going to budge. We have accepted that in this place, neither person should be expected to act rationally and generously. Gridlock is gridlock is gridlock. So set your rules ahead of time about how to handle this kind of an impasse so you don’t have to make rules while you’re in gridlock mode. For us, impasse involves a basic two-part process. If the decision can be made by letting each have his way as an option for later, that’s the best path. For instance, if we are shooting a scene and disagree about how a certain element should be performed or shot, we will film both versions. Usually time tells us which one is better after we have cooled down and gotten some perspective in the edit room. But there are also times when we are in the edit room deciding which song should roll over the credits. For instance, I might think it needs to push the emotion and play against the final comedic beat. Jay might feel that choice is too cheesy and we need to lie back and be more subtle. And we can’t submit two versions of a TV episode to our network. So…how do we decide? Take a note from Regis Philbin and phone a friend. Bring in a group of your most trusted collaborators (co-workers, but also peers who do what you do and can give you advice). Show them both versions, without making a case for which one you personally prefer, and ninety-nine times out of a hundred the better version will prevail.
But (I know, a second “but”) if it still is not clear, we have another way to settle it….
If all else fails, you should know your collaborator and yourself well enough to understand that there is a deep, soulful reason you are in a working relationship with this person. You should trust that their instincts are just as valid as your own, and after the dust settles you each should objectively be able to evaluate yourself and the person across from you and see who is more passionate about their case. It sounds like an arbitrary distinction, but we use this tactic quite often and it works very well. Whoever believes more deeply gets to win this one. And know that the next one that comes around will likely be yours.
It took us about twenty-five “get your feelings hurt” sessions to figure this problem out. It’s not easy to diagnose but it’s an important one. Our creative brains work at different speeds and have different strengths. These aren’t binary rules, but there are trends in the way we go about thinking and how we work, so it’s important to take note and give your collaborator the respect they deserve. For instance, my head is like a bundle of fireworks. It goes off without warning and can be annoying, loud, and dangerous to those nearby. But it can also be fun. That said, Jay has discovered that when I am firing away, my brain can move so quickly and with such fervor that it doesn’t allow Jay’s ideas any space to collaborate with mine. So Jay has learned how to let the fireworks go off for a while until it’s safe enough for him to get close and add his own ideas to the mix. Jay will be the first one to tell you how annoying it is, but in the end he knows he has to let me be me and obey my natural process.
On the flip side, Jay’s ideas often come more slowly, in a more dreamlike fugue state. They usually take longer to develop, and they have a subtlety and sensitivity to them that can easily be trampled and smothered by my more brash and violent creative thought flow. So I have learned to shut up when Jay is birthing an idea, not trample all over it when my weird fireworks start going off, and give Jay the space he needs to let his ideas breathe and come to their resting place at his speed.
It may sound like a lot of work and compromise and restraint, and it is. But when it works, and my fire and Jay’s precision come together on one big idea, it can be magical, and it makes the process truly worthwhile. You just have to set boundaries and get good at knowing yourself and your collaborator.
While some may argue that the greatest benefit to collaboration is that two heads are better than one, sometimes talking about an idea with your collaborator can kill the magic. Sometimes you need to strike out on your own for a project or portion of a project in order to get it right. Don’t be afraid to ask for this. In our creative life, this has been a hard lesson to learn. For instance, when Jay was writing a scene for our movie Cyrus that was giving him trouble, I offered a way to fix it that I thought was so obvious and Jay was just…resistant. I kept intellectualizing with Jay as to why the fix I was offering was the way to go, and it was baffling to me that he would not accept it. Finally, Jay turned to me and said, “I know that’s the way to fix it, but I’m trying to do something different here, and I don’t know exactly what it is yet. I can’t talk about it or explain it, but I can feel it, and I need you to let me figure this out on my own.” It was a bummer moment for both of us, but in the end Jay floundered around for a bit and then came up with something that was not only as good as the fix I offered but was a unique and inspired version of that fix and made the script that much better for it.
Anyhow, the more we think about it, all of these ideas share the same basic score: respecting and validating your creative partner. Treating the relationship like a plant that needs water, care, and a shit-ton of forgiveness to flourish.
And maybe some therapy.
Never underestimate the basic tools that you can get from a few rounds with a good therapist.