Dustin Lance Black couldn't have announced his arrival as a player in the feature biz if he'd worn a sandwich board to the Writers Guild Awards.

The "Milk" scribe brought the award-season jaded crowd at the Century Plaza to its feet with his heartfelt call for the gay/lesbian/bisexual/transgender community to think "beyond Prop. 8" and demand that the federal government enact legislation affirming their equal protection under the law on a scale of the 1964 Civil Rights Act.

Black (who says he generally drops Dustin and goes by Lance) may not quite be old enough to run for president (he was 4 when Harvey Milk was assassinated in 1978), but he knows his history. And he knows his showbiz history. He got a laugh in accepting his first award of the night by noting that "Milk" wasn't "the easiest subject matter to get produced. If you hadn't noticed -- it's pretty gay...and it's political."

The civil rights movement of the 1950s and '60s should be a template for the gay community -- and now is the hour for activism, Black says, noting how many thousands of people took to the streets of L.A. in November after California voters approved Prop. 8's same-sex marriage ban. It is painfully ironic to Black that the anti-Prop. 8 campaign failed to heed Milk's example by de-emphasizing the gay rights factor, instead of making that the central issue. He knows whereof he speaks, having grown up as a self-described "closeted kid" in a devoutly Mormon, military family in San Antonio, Texas. (No question why he became a writer on HBO's "Big Love.")

Black's life changed when his family moved to the Bay Area when he was a teen after his stepfather was transferred.

"I think America does love gay and lesbian people - a lot of them just haven't met us yet," Black said backstage, channeling his movie subject as he held a trophy in each hand. "A lot of us are invisible. We need to come out of this invisibility, we need to let people know that we're your aunts and uncles, your teachers and your truck drivers. This is not just about marriage."

As for his next moves on screen, Black is looking forward to putting his docu helming experience to the test with his feature directing debut on "What's Wrong with Virginia." Liam Neeson has signed on to the project alongside Jennifer Connelly. No distrib yet, but Christine Vachon and Eric Watson are on board as producers. Black is also adapting "The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test" for "Milk" helmer Gus Van Sant, and he has something percolating at Universal, but it's not ready for "talking about yet," he said, just before his team of CAA reps and praiser Lee Ginsberg of PMK/HBH gently pulled him out of the press room.

Judd Apatow makes me laugh. He makes a lot of people laugh. He kept the packed house at the WGA Theater in Beverly Hills laughing Thursday night as he moderated the "Beyond Words" panel of WGA Award nommed screenwriters. It was a good group -- Simon Beaufoy ("Slumdog Millionaire"); Lance Black ("Milk"); Tom McCarthy ("The Visitor"); Jonathan Nolan ("The Dark Knight"); and Eric Roth ("The Curious Case of Benjamin Button") -- that reflected a range of pics.

Apatow joked at the start about not preparing for the event, but he'd clearly done a little bit of homework. He zeroed in on Roth to start, noting that the esteemed screenwriter had been a friend of Jim Morrison when they both attended UCLA in the mid-1960s.

"Can we talk about that all night," Apatow said.

Roth breezed over this interesting chapter in the L.A./rock'n'roll/Hollywood history with a dry mention of weird scenes ("I did get high with him a lot") and the observation that the Lizard King, in all his tight- leather-pants-whip-it-out-in-Miami-rock-god glory, really wanted to be a respected poet, or maybe even a screenwriter. "He wanted to be here," Roth said. (I think he meant Morrison would've loved being in a setting that conferred on him the status of being a really good writer.)

Apatow then warned McCarthy that the only thing he was more interested in than Jim Morrison stories was behind the scenes tales of "The Wire." (McCarthy co-starred as a really craven character -- a corrupt newspaper reporter -- in the HBO drama's final season last year. He shredded in the role. I loved HATING him.)

"So, what role as an actor pissed you off so much that you decided to write," Apatow asked, zeroing in on the heart of the question, no matter how delicately phrased, that is always asked of actors who decide to write or direct, or do both in the case of the multi-talented McCarthy.

(Pictured above, from left: Eric Roth, Lance Black, Judd Apatow, Jonathan Nolan, Tom McCarthy and Simon Beaufoy.)

Strike TV is getting closer to its close-up.

The website devoted to showcasing original works from Hollywood union-repped folks is planning a private beta launch starting Monday. If you're curious, go sign up for updates and info about the venture at www.strike.tv and they'll be sending out log on and password info soon.

The plan is to let a 1,000 or so people into the site to help break it in and work out the bugs before they mount a full-blown launch. Until then, clips and trailers for some of the Strike TV fodder already produced can be found on this Strike TV blog.

The significant progress made in the DGA's tentative contract agreement with the majors stands as a hopeful sign that labor peace may soon be at hand. And it's also provides perfect examples of what's gone wrong to date in the fitful negotiations between the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers and the WGA. The lack of communication between the studios and the scribes has been devastating to the creative community, below-the-liners included, and a failure of leadership on both sides of the picket lines.

The DGA rightfully touted on Thursday its victory in achieving big gains in residuals for electronic sell-through (aka paid downloads) based on a percentage of distributor's gross, not the despised producer's gross homevideo formula that took 80% of the distributor's revenue off the table, leaving 20% for the scribes and helmers to take a slim percentage of (1.5% or 1.8%, for sales after $1 million) as a residual. It's understood that the AMPTP wanted to base the deal on some definition "producer's gross" in the deal but the DGA held firm, on the rationale that it's too easy for the majors to move money around to make the producer's gross a lot punier than the distributor's haul.

The WGA pushed hard in its approach to the studios for a distributor's gross formula, but it was a non-starter, the AMPTP reps repeatedly told the WGA. How come? Because, according to execs from the AMPTP member congloms, they quite weren't sure what the WGA meant by the D- and G-words. AMPTP reps raised the specter of the WGA demanding a cut of advertising revenue from new media exhibition platforms (ABC.com, NBC.com, etc.) if they were owned by the same company that distribbed the program to the Internet (as is more often than not the case in post fin-syn Hollywood).

So why didn't the companies just ask for clarity? Why didn't they demand a simple, declarative sentence, a la the DGA's snappy "Distributor's gross is the amount received by the entity responsible for distributing the film or television program on the Internet." AMPTP says they did; WGA says it was the majors who refused to define their understanding of distributor's versus producer's gross. I can't imagine a first grade teacher accepting such a "did too/did not" explanation for why the entire class flunked the math test.

The real value of a good script in this town hinges not on the eloquence of the prose or the cleverness of the plot but in its execution from page to screen. Nobody understands this Hollywood truism better than television showrunners; it’s the challenge they tackle with every week.

As such, it comes as no surprise that these multitasking members of Writers Guild of America should have played such a pivotal role in the first and second acts of the scribe strike of ’07. The determination of a wide swath of showrunners shut the biz down, for all intents and purposes, in a hurry in the first 72 hours after the strike began on Nov. 5. And by many accounts, it was the growing restlessness of many of the same showrunners last week that prodded both the studios and the guild off of their rhetorical high horses to agree to resume formal negotiations on Monday.

“The showrunners were the tip of the spear in this fight,” said a top tenpercenter who’s been piped into the backchannel discussions among scribes, CEOs and top agency partners during the past fortnight of discontent.

(Pictured above: "Grey's Anatomy" star Sandra Oh marches with "Grey's" showrunner Shonda Rhimes, to Oh's right, and "Back to You" co-creator/exec producer Steve Levitan, on Rhimes' right, during WGA's Tuesday march and rally on Hollywood Boulevard. Below, the march at its peak covered three blocks. Pics by Matthew Simmons/WireImage)

The word that comes to mind to describe the mood among the scribes on the picket lines during the past week is: resolute.

Over and over, the attitude expressed on the lines was one of calm, cool determination to stick it out for a "fair deal." Despite the early predictions that the Writers Guild of America membership would be split along income-strata lines, there is no doubt that writers of all stripes, of all levels of experience and success are fired up by the feeling that the major congloms have been hosing them for years.

The WGA leadership has expertly built on that foundation of pent-up ire to help scribes gird for the strike that many rightly predicted was inevitable. On Friday (Nov. 9) at the mega-rally of at least 4,000 guild members and industry supporters held outside the Fox Plaza building in Century City, guild leaders and guest speakers including the Rev. Jesse Jackson very clearly drew a line between the WGA strike -- disparaged by some as a rich union's attempt to paint itself as blue-collar -- and the growing income disparity that has cleaved the nation into the super-haves, the haven't enoughs, the have-nots and the have nothings during the past 40 years.

"If they gave us everything that we're asking for, and then they went and did the same deal with the DGA and SAG, they would still be giving all of us less than each of their CEOs makes in a year," WGA West prexy Patric Verrone asserted to a receptive crowd on Friday.

(Can't absolutely vouch for Verrone's math, but we've all seen the studies on CEO pay gone wild and the widening gulf between the salaries of top execs and lowest-paid workers at many corporations.)  A picket sign in the crowd featured an unflattering picture of News Corp. prexy Peter Chernin, with "$34 million last year" scrawled underneath.

Seth MacFarlane, a wunderkind who scored his first multimillion payday before he was 30 with a hit animated Fox series "Family Guy," was a savvy choice by the guild to address the rally. His is a voice representing both the future of the guild and the promise that the biz holds to make (very lucky) people fabulously wealthy on the strength of a great idea. MacFarlane (pictured below) made a point of urging his fellow high-earners to keep paying their freshly laid off assistants for as long as possible. And he urged "the press" to get the message out to the general public that WGA members are, in the main, members of the five-figure annual income middle class, not the six-, seven-, eight-figure and above ultra-elite.

"Writers in this guild are not millionaires," MacFarlane stressed. "The royalties we're fighting for will make a big difference to them."

(Above pic snapped by Michelle Sobrino-Stearns/Variety)

It was a celebration of a mighty impressive achievement -- "ER's" 300th seg -- but the talk of the party thrown by Warner Bros. Television Saturday night at the Cabana Club in Hollywood was all about what may transpire on Sunday and Monday.

Any gathering of TV industry insiders would have been abuzz with talk of the writers strike called for 12: 01 a.m. Monday and the Hail Mary meeting set for Sunday between the scribes and producers. But with "ER" in particular, it had to be the dominant theme given "ER" exec producer John Wells' background as a former WGA West prexy, one who skillfully helped avert a Defcon 4 scenario in 2001 when contract talks got heated (though not nearly as scalding as they are this time around).

In his brief remarks saluting the show and the people who make it, Warner Bros. TV prexy Peter Roth called Wells "the Eisenhower of all showrunners," and his use of a militaristic comparison was not lost on the crowd, unconscious as it may have been on Roth's part. NBC U Entertainment co-chairman Ben Silverman was more pointed, saying that Wells was going "fix all of it" in relation to the strike.

During his turn at the mike, Wells didn't use the S-word (except to sheepishly scoff at Ben's remark), but he did note that he'd done the math, and in the 14 seasons since "ER" dawned, skein has produced some 24,682 pages of scripts.

Neal Baer, a WGA negotiating committee member and an "ER" alum (who now shepherds NBC's "Law & Order: SVU" and does the work of angels as a licensed physician in his spare time), was on hand and inundated by "what's gonna happen?" queries. It was intriguing to see Baer and Wells and former "ER" showrunner Lydia Woodward huddled in a heavy-duty discussion toward the end of the evening.

As befitting the spirit of "ER," there was a define touch of optimism to all the strike talk among partygoers. The fact that a meeting was called for Sunday on Friday afternoon, hours after the WGA formally announced its plan to walk out on Monday, was widely dissected and discussed as a flicker of hope. There was also a feeling among the card-carrying types in the room that after Friday's strike announcement, some of the CEOs were starting to get more personally engaged and realize the serious-as-a-heart-attack-ness of the threat at hand.

Maybe, just maybe, there'll be enough of a give-and-take on Sunday for the scribes to hold their fire, even if it's 12- or 24 hour increments. Or in "ER" parlance, let's hope Sunday's meet turns out to be the final act of a two-parter, packed with guest stars and exotic location shoots, with a cliffhanger in the middle...and an uplifting ending by 11:59 p.m. Sunday.

For anyone who wants to test-drive the experience of being a television writer, Matt Selman has an easy solution.

Get a group of your most sarcastic friends together in a room, preferably windowless, and try to make each other laugh by outdoing one another with a steady stream of the most offensive, sophomoric and vulgar set of jokes and set-ups that you can possibly imagine -- things that could never air on TV, not even pay cable. Add in lots of takeout food and soft drinks and repeat for a few weeks on end. If your heart soars and body tingles every time you make the room snicker, you just might be cut out to be a television writer.

At least that's the quick-and-easy career counseling that Selman (pictured right), an Emmy-winning scribe for "The Simpsons" and co-writer of "The Simpsons Movie," offered Tuesday night during the "Sublime Primetime" dish sesh with a clutch of Emmy-nommed scribes, hosted by the WGA West and Variety at the Writers Guild Theater in BevHills.

"Don't wait for the industry to give you money," Selman instructed. "Take any opportunity to (try writing). The joy of writing is just as fun to do ... if you're on the worst show on television or the best show...Find a group of friends and make each other laugh. Riff off each other. Go on super-offensive runs about degrading subjects."

Come prepared to laugh. Variety's Army Archerd will host a tribute to multihyphenate Mel Shavelson, the industry vet who died earlier this month at the age of 90 (here's Variety's obit), on Aug. 28 at the Writers Guild Theater in Beverly Hills.

Shavelson (pictured at left from an Academy of Television Arts & Sciences event in June) was known for his long association as a writer-producer for Bob Hope and for his many feature screenplays -- including "Sorrowful Jones," "The Great Lover," "I'll See You in My Dreams," "April in Paris," "The Seven Little Foys" and "Yours, Mine and Ours" and a ton of other credits -- but he earned his place in TV history by penning the pilot for Danny Thomas' "Make Room for Daddy." (That show, which ran from 1953 to 1964 on ABC and later CBS, was the gift that kept on giving, through the magic of syndication and residuals, Shavelson was said to have often observed.)

Shavelson also served three terms as prexy of the Writers Guild of America West and generously donated a boatload of coin to establish the Writers Guild Foundation's Shavelson-Webb Library. By all accounts, Mel was an all-around standup guy and very funny man. I'm sure that sentiment will be shared on Aug. 28 with a lineup of speakers set to include fellow scribes Hal Kanter, Del Reisman, Mort Lachman, Sherwood Schwartz and thesp Angie Dickinson, who starred in the Shavelson-penned 1966 drama "Cast a Giant Shadow."