In 2004, Eric Heisserer posted what are, ostensibly, a series of emails from an old friend. (The Dionaea House) Someone they knew way back when had committed a double homicide and suicide, and he was driven by guilt to try to find out what had happened to the guy to drive him to it.
As you read them, they start to imply something supernatural. A haunted house kind of story. The original series of posts ends in September 2004, with an addendum which then links to other blogs and even an instant message transcript.
There's more followup a year after the main body of the story took place.
With it, he creates a well-written spooky story that had some people wondering if it were true, some wondering whether he believed it to be true, a few playing along, and many more just enjoying a good scary story.
He also got himself the beginnings of a screenwriting career. He sold the screenplay (not sure if he sold the rights to the story and had a screenplay deal, or if he completed the screenplay before approaching studios) to Warner. While that project foundered, he has, in the few years following, landed some enviable screenwriting jobs: The Nightmare on Elm Street reboot, Final Destination 5, and The Thing prequel.
It's important to show originality as a screenwriter. Eric's example proves that it doesn't necessarily have to be with a screenplay. Despite the unconventional format of the epistolary story, The Dionaea House still has a beginning, middle, and end. It still starts with a strong hook, then builds slowly with background about the character and hints at the story. It follows conventional horror movie tropes (don't go in the house alone!) but presents them in a fresh and very contemporary way.
His writing career began in the tabletop RPG industry, so writing the story in an episodic way makes sense. Combine that with a strong sense of visual description, and you have a powerful story that you can "see" as a movie while you read it.
_______
P.S.
I just read that he actually sold a screenplay in 2000 and optioned one in 2002, so his breakout project was not his first rodeo in Hollywood.
Regarding the Dionaea House, he wrote the screenplay and then decided to create the online story and present that rather than try to sell a spec. He had begun creating the various sites that he was using to write the story, and, before the whole thing was online, it got indexed by search engines. (Knowing a little about site optimization for search, he accidentally did some great site design by having disparate sources linking back to each other with text containing similar words. This would increase the apparent validity of the site to crawlers.) He literally woke up one morning and there were millions of hits. It took on a life of its own, as many thousands of people believed it was real (or at least that he was really party to someone else's hoax) and reporters, ministers, and PIs contacted him about it. So, as with all Hollywood success stories, there was a bit of pure luck there - he just has a good enough story for it to catch fire when the match came near.
Showing posts with label screenwriting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label screenwriting. Show all posts
Cinematic Writing
It surprises me, talking to folks who are new to screenwriting, how many of them don't have a movie in their head. If you don't see a film, how are you going to make anyone else see it? They are telling a story, not creating a film. This often becomes clear if you ask them - what is character y doing while x and z are talking here? Or some other detail about something they put in the room and then left alone. They aren't *seeing* the scene.
Of course, I've always imagined somewhat cinematically. Even my most abstract poems (with the exception of a couple of grad-school literary cut-up experiments) run in my head as a short film. And I can tell you what every detail of each frame looks like.
Then there's the other sticking point - once you have the movie in your head, knowing how much to put down on paper to evoke those images in another person's head. Most of us have been told enough times not to overwrite that it's less common to see an overly florid screenplay than one which chooses such generic descriptions/dialogue that they flatten out and the flavor of the imagined story is lost. You can do a lot with the flavor of the language, rather than endless description - something I learned from poetry.
Yes, the language of a screenplay is stripped down, basic and straight-forward. That doesn't mean it can't be evocative. Your hero can walk down a wet street, or they can splash through the wet grime of rain-slicked asphalt.
My signature on Triggerstreet is: "Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass..." (Chekhov) and it illustrated perfectly what I mean. The moon may be shining, but what we see is the glint of light...and that piece of glass can add to a threatening or a down-trodden tone, depending on context.
Every word matters, every word is a chance to evoke the movie you see, in your reader's head.
Of course, I've always imagined somewhat cinematically. Even my most abstract poems (with the exception of a couple of grad-school literary cut-up experiments) run in my head as a short film. And I can tell you what every detail of each frame looks like.
Then there's the other sticking point - once you have the movie in your head, knowing how much to put down on paper to evoke those images in another person's head. Most of us have been told enough times not to overwrite that it's less common to see an overly florid screenplay than one which chooses such generic descriptions/dialogue that they flatten out and the flavor of the imagined story is lost. You can do a lot with the flavor of the language, rather than endless description - something I learned from poetry.
Yes, the language of a screenplay is stripped down, basic and straight-forward. That doesn't mean it can't be evocative. Your hero can walk down a wet street, or they can splash through the wet grime of rain-slicked asphalt.
My signature on Triggerstreet is: "Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass..." (Chekhov) and it illustrated perfectly what I mean. The moon may be shining, but what we see is the glint of light...and that piece of glass can add to a threatening or a down-trodden tone, depending on context.
Every word matters, every word is a chance to evoke the movie you see, in your reader's head.
By the Sequence
I've written about the sequence approach to structure before here, but recently discussed the actual progression of sequences on the boards at Triggerstreet. Thought I'd share that here as well.
The idea behind the sequence approach is that each section has a beginning, middle and end, and each has its own conflict and resolution or reversal. This not only helps to assure you have tension and stakes all the way through, but gives the rhythm a rise and fall, peaks and valleys.
These sequences can blend well with a three-act structure, the mini-resolutions falling around the turning points, or they can be seen as following their own rhythm. Shorter sequences, interspersed, can be used to develop sub-plots.
At any rate, you only have to think 12 pages at a time. And if you feel you need one or two more sequences, that's possible.
Here are breakdowns for It Happened One Night and Rushmore.
Now, the guy who wrote the book on the sequence approach lays them out like this (but other uses of the sequences are possible):
- Setup: The hook - a puzzle, conundrum, question in the audiences mind - used to stimulate curiosity. Then a picture of the protagonist before the story proper begins, the kind of person and type of life they have now. Ends with a Catalyst, the intrusion of instability into normal events.
- Development: The main plot point (or central dramatic question) is set out. Protag comes to terms w/ the change in circumstance, or tries to put things back as they were. This attempt fails - usually with some kind of big event (first act turning point) which signals the point of no return
- Special World: Protagonist tries to solve the problems posed at the end of the last sequence, usually an easy fix attempt which fails. Protag ventures out of their usual world and they have to learn the rules of the new domain that they have entered before they can move forward. (often a training or learning sequence)
- Game: The easy fix inevitably makes things worse, there is a desperate attempt to return to normality. Usually results in a revelation which makes everything more complicated and difficult for the protagonist. The protagonist may have a very real chance of winning only to have this feeling rapidly reversed. (midpoint reversal)
- Grace: Protagonist grapples with a new situation after the midpoint culmination and twist - leading to new situations (or a new view of them). Sometimes the quest changes direction. Usually ends w/ another change, another raise in stakes, and often confrontation w/ the antagonist
- Intensification: The main dramatic question is answered, the main tension is resolved. Can either be a dark night or a bright spot before the last reversal.
- Sprint: The apparent resolution brings unexpected consequences, which have to be dealt with immediately. Often a complete reversal of apparent objectives. The final showdown.
- Resolution: wrap up and come-down
The idea behind the sequence approach is that each section has a beginning, middle and end, and each has its own conflict and resolution or reversal. This not only helps to assure you have tension and stakes all the way through, but gives the rhythm a rise and fall, peaks and valleys.
These sequences can blend well with a three-act structure, the mini-resolutions falling around the turning points, or they can be seen as following their own rhythm. Shorter sequences, interspersed, can be used to develop sub-plots.
At any rate, you only have to think 12 pages at a time. And if you feel you need one or two more sequences, that's possible.
Here are breakdowns for It Happened One Night and Rushmore.
Now, the guy who wrote the book on the sequence approach lays them out like this (but other uses of the sequences are possible):
- Setup: The hook - a puzzle, conundrum, question in the audiences mind - used to stimulate curiosity. Then a picture of the protagonist before the story proper begins, the kind of person and type of life they have now. Ends with a Catalyst, the intrusion of instability into normal events.
- Development: The main plot point (or central dramatic question) is set out. Protag comes to terms w/ the change in circumstance, or tries to put things back as they were. This attempt fails - usually with some kind of big event (first act turning point) which signals the point of no return
- Special World: Protagonist tries to solve the problems posed at the end of the last sequence, usually an easy fix attempt which fails. Protag ventures out of their usual world and they have to learn the rules of the new domain that they have entered before they can move forward. (often a training or learning sequence)
- Game: The easy fix inevitably makes things worse, there is a desperate attempt to return to normality. Usually results in a revelation which makes everything more complicated and difficult for the protagonist. The protagonist may have a very real chance of winning only to have this feeling rapidly reversed. (midpoint reversal)
- Grace: Protagonist grapples with a new situation after the midpoint culmination and twist - leading to new situations (or a new view of them). Sometimes the quest changes direction. Usually ends w/ another change, another raise in stakes, and often confrontation w/ the antagonist
- Intensification: The main dramatic question is answered, the main tension is resolved. Can either be a dark night or a bright spot before the last reversal.
- Sprint: The apparent resolution brings unexpected consequences, which have to be dealt with immediately. Often a complete reversal of apparent objectives. The final showdown.
- Resolution: wrap up and come-down
Characters I Love
I'm a bit of an oddity, in that for much of my adult life, I haven't had TV. A television, to watch movies on, sure. But no TV service.
Since I've been living with my sister, though, she subscribes and I've gotten into watching several shows. The thing I find I love most is the ability for TV to create complex characters over time. People can display far more unlikable qualities but still win you over. They can be contradictory or surprising in ways that are much harder to get to in a movie.
Some of my favorites:
House - the perfect example of someone unlikable that you end up loving. Major kudos to the writers, but especially to Hugh Laurie, who can convey an iceberg worth of subtext with a single close-up, so that there doesn't ever have to be dialogue spelling out his deeper feelings.
Mary Shannon on In Plain Sight - again, in no small part due to the acting of Mary McCarthy, but also skilled writing that always places her in a situation that's designed to push and stretch her.
Also brilliant, the way she basically plays a typical man (her car, her tastes, her view of right and wrong, her difficulty having relationships, etc) and her partner is a man who displays all the typical qualities of a woman (sensitivity, nurturing, into poetry, indirect in his communication, and so on). Watch her on one or two shows, she's amusing. (In fact, the series took a season or so to find balance so that she wasn't over the top.) Over the course of the series, she's fascinating.
Criminal Minds has two great characters I love. They used to have three, but one left the show. Reed, the savant and Penelope, the hacker. In a movie Reed would not be dynamic enough to carry it, and would probably be a lesser member of an ensemble. Given a series, there's time to tease out the background of a character who is internal and socially awkward. In a movie, Penelope would probably just be a joke, the comic relief. Cut to the quirky hacker chick. But on the show, she's had time to develop into a tender and loving woman, who is, in many ways, the heart of the show.
Other characters who would be simply lost in a film, and likely would barely have a chance to breathe and develop are the secondary characters Heddy on NCIS Los Angeles and Walter in Fringe. Heddy is still a relatively minor character, but man, do I want to be her when I grow up. The hints at her exotic and exciting life, )without ever revealing too much) her cultured sensibilities, and her ability to dig in and be a bitch when needed make her a delight. And, well, it *is* Linda Hunt. Walter is wonderful because he runs the gamut from childlike and lost to brilliant and threatening. The ability to have a character who is at once endearing and terrifying is rare. I haven't seen Splice yet, but suspect that what they wanted from their creature is something akin to what Fringe captures in Walter.
Finally, my favorite character on Television: Dexter.
Need I say more?
OK, maybe you're not a fan of the series. Maybe you're one of those who think the obsession with serial killers is a sign of a sick society - but the serial killer thing is just what gets people to turn the show on. What keeps them watching is how relatable Dexter is.
We've all had times when we were confused by other people, when we didn't understand what the social norm was, or what was expected from us. When other people felt like another species, and we had to watch carefully to guess how to act (and sometimes get it wrong.) As a sociopath, Dexter has to work to pick up the social rules and cues that most of us get by default, but most of us have had times when we felt as uncertain around others as he does.
We all have a dark part of ourselves we hide, and have been in danger of it coming out. Maybe we even fear that we'll lose our loved ones if they knew about our dark secret. It's not as dark as Dexter's - but many of us have a "dark passenger" of some kind.
Many of us also have a strong internal code that guides us, and have to deal with times that our code may come into conflict with either society's laws or our own desires.
I'm definitely seeing the usefulness for TV as a storytelling medium as I learn to love these complex characters.
Since I've been living with my sister, though, she subscribes and I've gotten into watching several shows. The thing I find I love most is the ability for TV to create complex characters over time. People can display far more unlikable qualities but still win you over. They can be contradictory or surprising in ways that are much harder to get to in a movie.
Some of my favorites:
House - the perfect example of someone unlikable that you end up loving. Major kudos to the writers, but especially to Hugh Laurie, who can convey an iceberg worth of subtext with a single close-up, so that there doesn't ever have to be dialogue spelling out his deeper feelings.
Mary Shannon on In Plain Sight - again, in no small part due to the acting of Mary McCarthy, but also skilled writing that always places her in a situation that's designed to push and stretch her.
Also brilliant, the way she basically plays a typical man (her car, her tastes, her view of right and wrong, her difficulty having relationships, etc) and her partner is a man who displays all the typical qualities of a woman (sensitivity, nurturing, into poetry, indirect in his communication, and so on). Watch her on one or two shows, she's amusing. (In fact, the series took a season or so to find balance so that she wasn't over the top.) Over the course of the series, she's fascinating.
Criminal Minds has two great characters I love. They used to have three, but one left the show. Reed, the savant and Penelope, the hacker. In a movie Reed would not be dynamic enough to carry it, and would probably be a lesser member of an ensemble. Given a series, there's time to tease out the background of a character who is internal and socially awkward. In a movie, Penelope would probably just be a joke, the comic relief. Cut to the quirky hacker chick. But on the show, she's had time to develop into a tender and loving woman, who is, in many ways, the heart of the show.
Other characters who would be simply lost in a film, and likely would barely have a chance to breathe and develop are the secondary characters Heddy on NCIS Los Angeles and Walter in Fringe. Heddy is still a relatively minor character, but man, do I want to be her when I grow up. The hints at her exotic and exciting life, )without ever revealing too much) her cultured sensibilities, and her ability to dig in and be a bitch when needed make her a delight. And, well, it *is* Linda Hunt. Walter is wonderful because he runs the gamut from childlike and lost to brilliant and threatening. The ability to have a character who is at once endearing and terrifying is rare. I haven't seen Splice yet, but suspect that what they wanted from their creature is something akin to what Fringe captures in Walter.
Finally, my favorite character on Television: Dexter.
Need I say more?
OK, maybe you're not a fan of the series. Maybe you're one of those who think the obsession with serial killers is a sign of a sick society - but the serial killer thing is just what gets people to turn the show on. What keeps them watching is how relatable Dexter is.
We've all had times when we were confused by other people, when we didn't understand what the social norm was, or what was expected from us. When other people felt like another species, and we had to watch carefully to guess how to act (and sometimes get it wrong.) As a sociopath, Dexter has to work to pick up the social rules and cues that most of us get by default, but most of us have had times when we felt as uncertain around others as he does.
We all have a dark part of ourselves we hide, and have been in danger of it coming out. Maybe we even fear that we'll lose our loved ones if they knew about our dark secret. It's not as dark as Dexter's - but many of us have a "dark passenger" of some kind.
Many of us also have a strong internal code that guides us, and have to deal with times that our code may come into conflict with either society's laws or our own desires.
I'm definitely seeing the usefulness for TV as a storytelling medium as I learn to love these complex characters.
Reviving Desire's Revenge
I'm pulling up my short Desire's Revenge and turning it into a feature in response to a challenge on Triggerstreet.
I've always intended to, but planned to finish some other projects first...which has gone real well (not). At any rate, there's a deadline, and deadlines are my best friend for creative projects. Without them I tend to tinker and rethink and retool and re-imagine for ages.
I've always intended to, but planned to finish some other projects first...which has gone real well (not). At any rate, there's a deadline, and deadlines are my best friend for creative projects. Without them I tend to tinker and rethink and retool and re-imagine for ages.
followup to last post
Excellent blog from Danny Stack on "original voice."
He essentially says not to be afraid to be more writerly, to use language to paint pictures, to tell a story.
He essentially says not to be afraid to be more writerly, to use language to paint pictures, to tell a story.
Creativity and Decisions
So, I have an idea. I think it's a really good idea. It falls into a sub-genre of thrillers I think of as daddy-daughter flicks, in which a father must rescue or revenge his little (often teenage) girl.
The problem I'm having is that I have an abundance of ideas about how to approach it.
I know who the main character is. I know who his antagonist and con-tagonists are. I know what the ending is, and I know everyone's motivations.
That still leaves me with a HUGE range of creative choices. I could write two or three complete screenplays based on these characters in this situation and have them be distinctly different.
The first dillemma: how much backstory do I front-load?
I could open with the scene of what happened to this man's daughter, showing just enough but leaving out some details that would be revealed later. The main character has suppressed parts of this event, but is also driven by it.
Or, flash back to it a few times as he encounters the individuals he's seeking revenge on, and as he remembers more. A little of this will happen regardless, because of the memory issue, but flashbacks are so tricky, perhaps they are best left alone. They seem natural to this storyline, but perhaps the audience will be more involved, and the structure will be simpler if I go with the first option.
Another approach: only hint at the event, dropping information through conversations and confrontations, without ever really showing it. I *could* even do this combined with the first option - showing very little in the opening scene, through the protag's faulty memory, and then hinting through the reactions of others that there was much more to the story
None of those are bad choices. Honestly, I love the third approach - not even showing the event, but teasing information about it through each scene, until we have a good idea - but never a 100% complete one...I'm just not sure my craft is strong enough to make that work on the page without being confusing. It's a problem I've had before.
The other major dramatic choice I'm making is between two basic approaches to the story. Make it a standard thriller-hunt type film like Taken? Or a mostly-single location psychological drama like The Negotiator and Albino Alligator?
The hunt has terrific possibilities for chase scenes, big set pieces, and lots of great cathartic torture them for info then blow them away moments. Basically, he knows where one of the people he's hunting for is, and uses them to get to the next one, leaving a trail of carnage and attracting the attention of the police. The pacing would be fast, and the story would be visceral.
The second option - have most of the people he's hunting gathered in one location, where he secures them and isolates them, then confronts each of them for information about the "truth" and the location/identity of the person who is really responsible for the bad thing that happened. Again, I lean toward this, but it's trickier to keep it interesting and tense.
Of course, I could actually write two screenplays...but since I've not written any (feature-length) scripts in a while, I think I'd better focus on just one!
The problem I'm having is that I have an abundance of ideas about how to approach it.
I know who the main character is. I know who his antagonist and con-tagonists are. I know what the ending is, and I know everyone's motivations.
That still leaves me with a HUGE range of creative choices. I could write two or three complete screenplays based on these characters in this situation and have them be distinctly different.
The first dillemma: how much backstory do I front-load?
I could open with the scene of what happened to this man's daughter, showing just enough but leaving out some details that would be revealed later. The main character has suppressed parts of this event, but is also driven by it.
Or, flash back to it a few times as he encounters the individuals he's seeking revenge on, and as he remembers more. A little of this will happen regardless, because of the memory issue, but flashbacks are so tricky, perhaps they are best left alone. They seem natural to this storyline, but perhaps the audience will be more involved, and the structure will be simpler if I go with the first option.
Another approach: only hint at the event, dropping information through conversations and confrontations, without ever really showing it. I *could* even do this combined with the first option - showing very little in the opening scene, through the protag's faulty memory, and then hinting through the reactions of others that there was much more to the story
None of those are bad choices. Honestly, I love the third approach - not even showing the event, but teasing information about it through each scene, until we have a good idea - but never a 100% complete one...I'm just not sure my craft is strong enough to make that work on the page without being confusing. It's a problem I've had before.
The other major dramatic choice I'm making is between two basic approaches to the story. Make it a standard thriller-hunt type film like Taken? Or a mostly-single location psychological drama like The Negotiator and Albino Alligator?
The hunt has terrific possibilities for chase scenes, big set pieces, and lots of great cathartic torture them for info then blow them away moments. Basically, he knows where one of the people he's hunting for is, and uses them to get to the next one, leaving a trail of carnage and attracting the attention of the police. The pacing would be fast, and the story would be visceral.
The second option - have most of the people he's hunting gathered in one location, where he secures them and isolates them, then confronts each of them for information about the "truth" and the location/identity of the person who is really responsible for the bad thing that happened. Again, I lean toward this, but it's trickier to keep it interesting and tense.
Of course, I could actually write two screenplays...but since I've not written any (feature-length) scripts in a while, I think I'd better focus on just one!
Freedom, Structure & Creativity
Recently, I stumbled on "another bored college student" blogging that she "really want(s) to write a screenplay," but she is
There's the popular-with-youngsters idea that free writing is truly creative, because it's free. If I read a novel and there are chapters that don't serve the overall purpose in some way, I get frustrated. In poetry, each stanza (each word) should be relevant and appropriate. Free writing is useful only in diaries and exercises - not for anything intended to be communicated to others.
But more than that is the complaint I came across often among poets when I was studying writing in college: that form and structure, that limits in general, were antithetical to creativity. In fact, the opposite is true. Limits engender creativity.
Interesting and original art typically comes from the streets, the poor, the oppressed. The people who have the most limits. People whose time, resources, and even daily activities are the most circumscribed.
Interesting and original art creates it's own form, where a form did not exist.
In grad school, I found that wrestling an unformed thought into the bindings of a sonnet, villanelle, or pantoum forced me to exercise my mind in a way that free form poetry does not. Giving it those limits forced me to be more careful with my phrases, and allowed me to play the language against the structure in ways that created meaning that is not possible in free verse. The form allows you to draw attention to specific words by their placement, and to tie one word or stanza to another - through the form - and create layers of meaning. You build layers, like a good wall (or a cake!), and repetition gives it strength. Or like passes of ink over a silkscreen, the color intensifying each time it's pushed through the form.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you want to write something that is identifiable as a movie. Movies have certain specific limits, and the limits of narrative in that medium also create opportunities for creativity. Where else can you have image and reaction? Where you have the complexities of visual storytelling possible in painting paired with the dynamism of movement? Where you can contrast an image or action with sound and create meaning from that? And yet, yes, it has to have a story. It has to have a beginning, middle, and an end. It has to make sense to others. And there's no point in having scenes that, well, don't have a point.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you also have to want to write something that reads well on the page. That does not ramble, that does not turn inward, and that does not waste time on anything that is not the movie. That is tight, and neat, with lots of white space.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you want to write something that moves, on the page. That the reading of it takes you on the journey - whether it's a stroll, a dance, or a hard run. The structure of the segments and scenes, of the short dialogue and brief descriptions are kinetic. Good screenplays use the limits of the medium to create an experience on the page that moves.
Creativity does not end with formula and structure. Creativity rejoices - because like water flowing in a river, it only gets to sing when it passes over the stones.
so used to free writing which is a better fit for novel writing. Screenplay writing is very specific and every scene needs to have a purpose and function to the pace and story as a whole. So by definition it's more of a formulaic writing than free flow writing. It sucks the creativity out of it.
There's the popular-with-youngsters idea that free writing is truly creative, because it's free. If I read a novel and there are chapters that don't serve the overall purpose in some way, I get frustrated. In poetry, each stanza (each word) should be relevant and appropriate. Free writing is useful only in diaries and exercises - not for anything intended to be communicated to others.
But more than that is the complaint I came across often among poets when I was studying writing in college: that form and structure, that limits in general, were antithetical to creativity. In fact, the opposite is true. Limits engender creativity.
Interesting and original art typically comes from the streets, the poor, the oppressed. The people who have the most limits. People whose time, resources, and even daily activities are the most circumscribed.
Interesting and original art creates it's own form, where a form did not exist.
In grad school, I found that wrestling an unformed thought into the bindings of a sonnet, villanelle, or pantoum forced me to exercise my mind in a way that free form poetry does not. Giving it those limits forced me to be more careful with my phrases, and allowed me to play the language against the structure in ways that created meaning that is not possible in free verse. The form allows you to draw attention to specific words by their placement, and to tie one word or stanza to another - through the form - and create layers of meaning. You build layers, like a good wall (or a cake!), and repetition gives it strength. Or like passes of ink over a silkscreen, the color intensifying each time it's pushed through the form.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you want to write something that is identifiable as a movie. Movies have certain specific limits, and the limits of narrative in that medium also create opportunities for creativity. Where else can you have image and reaction? Where you have the complexities of visual storytelling possible in painting paired with the dynamism of movement? Where you can contrast an image or action with sound and create meaning from that? And yet, yes, it has to have a story. It has to have a beginning, middle, and an end. It has to make sense to others. And there's no point in having scenes that, well, don't have a point.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you also have to want to write something that reads well on the page. That does not ramble, that does not turn inward, and that does not waste time on anything that is not the movie. That is tight, and neat, with lots of white space.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you want to write something that moves, on the page. That the reading of it takes you on the journey - whether it's a stroll, a dance, or a hard run. The structure of the segments and scenes, of the short dialogue and brief descriptions are kinetic. Good screenplays use the limits of the medium to create an experience on the page that moves.
Creativity does not end with formula and structure. Creativity rejoices - because like water flowing in a river, it only gets to sing when it passes over the stones.
NYC Midnight challenge round 2
Genre: Comedy
Setting: The North Pole
Object: Crutches
Pole to Pole
Setting: The North Pole
Object: Crutches
Pole to Pole
FADE IN
INT. TV STUDIO - DAY
CHRISTINE, a perfectly coifed Asian woman in a tropical print dress addresses the camera.
CHRISTINE
They've made it to the finals. Our Pole-to-Pole contestants have traveled for hours, and now arrive at their secret destination.
Behind her, a huge screen shows brightly a painted helicopter landing on a vast expanse of ice. A CREW MEMBER opens the door, and helps 4 CONTESTANTS step out. They wear blindfolds.
EXT. THE NORTH POLE - DAY
CAMERA OPERATORS, MIC OPERATORS and CREW swirl around the helicopters.
The 4 blindfolded contestants, 2 men, 2 women, are taken by the hand and walked to a flag stuck in the ice.
They stand there, attempting to look heroic.
In the background, a head in a pointed cap pops up from a crack in the ice. No one sees it, and it ducks away again.
Trucks and generators are all on one side, leaving the view behind the contestants empty and imposing.
THE DP walks out from one of the trucks, and shouts
THE DP
And...cut. Keep your blindfolds on. Stay in place, OK.
The contestants are bundled up in fashionable gear.
TOM, late-30s, square-jawed and not much over 5'2", flaps his arms across his chest.
TOM
Fuck it's colder than a witch's tit out here.
BRANDI, 21, with blonde braids and cocoa skin, tilts her head, and puts her hands on her hips.
BRANDI
Are you for real? Who says that?
TOM
Hey, can you fucking guys get it together? Are we ready to proceed here already?
The camera operators huddle together. They ignore Tom.
CHAD, mid-20s, tall with dark hair, is shifting back and forth, and tugging at the neck of his coat.
CHAD
Where are we? I didn't think anyplace was this cold in July.
STEPHANIE, late-20s, perks up.
STEPHANIE
Actually, the seasons in the southern hemisphere are reversed. They must have brought us south of the equator.
She tilts her head back, trying to see under her blindfold.
INT. TV STUDIO - DAY
CHRISTINE
Unbeknownst to our finalists, one camera has continued to film them.
On the video screen:
TOM
All I know is this [beep]-ing place is [beep]-ing cold and I'm [beep] [beep] that this is taking so [beep]-ing long.
BRANDI
What is it with you and that mouth?
CHAD
I just hope this doesn't chap my skin. I don't want my cheeks to be all red.
EXT. THE NORTH POLE - DAY
The DP approaches, camera and crew move back in place.
THE DP
All right, folks, we're going again. And five, four, three
He motions 2 and 1.
The contestants put on their game faces again.
One of the boom operaters seems to have shrunk in size. And... are his ears pointed?
The contestants pull off their blindfolds with clumsy, frozen fingers. They look around.
TOM
Well, I'll be f....
He looks at the camera a moment.
TOM
...a monkey's uncle.
BRANDI
You have a serious problem. I don't know what kind, but you got it.
CHAD
We're...nowhere.
He spins in a circle.
Stephanie pulls a compass out of a pocket.
She excitedly steps up and down, and starts bouncing around.
STEPHANIE
This is so cool! Do you know where we are?
The others just look at her.
STEPHANIE
The North Pole!
CHAD
Where are the elves?
Brandi rolls her eyes.
The tiny boom operator slowly backs away, and slips away from the crew. An ASSISTANT carrying coffee sees him, and his jaw drops.
INT. TV STUDIO - DAY
Christine walks over to a stage with a stripper pole, and the logo "Pole to Pole".
CHRISTINE
They've danced all over the world. Now, our contestants must dance in freezing temperatures, on a pole at the North Pole.
INT. LARGE YURT - DAY
The floor is ice. Chairs are set up in front of a small stage with a stripper pole. Heaters are set around the stage.
The contestants stand in front of it staring.
STEPHANIE
I suppose the pole might be warm enough once the heaters get going.
TOM
Fuck this.
He stops out of the tent.
CHAD
I never understood how that troll made it this far.
EXT. THE NORTH POLE - DAY
Tom stomps past the crew trucks, muttering. Something catches his eye. He goes to a crack in the ice, and suddenly the elf reaches up, grabs his ankle, and pulls him down.
He gets stuck a moment at chest height, struggling to pull himself back out. Then stops.
TOM
Fuck me.
He disappears from sight.
INT. LARGE YURT - DAY
The other three contestants are at a sound board, getting their songs ready to go.
The elf darts out, holding a pot, and runs to the stage. He smears something greasy on the pole.
INT. LARGE YURT - LATER
A small audience hoots and hollers, while music plays.
Chad stretches, to the side of the stage, with big movements designed to draw attention. Stephanie hobbles on crutches.
Brandi, in a sexy dress, tries to dance, but can't get any friction on the pole. Every time she tries to climb up it, she slips down fast.
The audience boos.
She makes one last desperate attempt, flinging her legs upward, and wrapping them around the pole - only to slide down and land hard on her butt.
BRANDI
Someone greased this pole.
She hobbles off the stage, fuming.
Chad steps up, rips open his coat, and flings himself at the pole, trying to swing around it. His hand slips off, and he ends up falling off the other side of the stage.
CHAD
Ow. Not fair.
Suddenly, Tom walks in, wearing shades. But...he's even shorter. And his clothes are baggy. It's the elf.
The other contestants stare.
ELF
Fucking cue my goddamn music, bitches.
A moment of dead silence, and then a song starts.
The elf hops onto the stage, and whips off his scarf. He wraps it around the pole, and shimmies as he rubs it up and down, cleaning the pole.
Off come the hat and sunglasses. The audience gasps.
INT. TV STUDIO - DAY
On the big screen behind Christine, Tom, Brandi, and Stephanie sit in the yurt, bandaged. Stephanie's crutches are beside her.
CHRISTINE
And now, based on your votes from all across the nation, our first Pole-to-Pole champion!
The elf comes out, wearing nothing but a tiny thong and shades. He looks like a male model - shrunk in the wash, with pointy ears.
ELF
Thank you! Ever since the workshop branched out into adult toys, this has been my dream.
He takes a bow.
FADE OUT
The Lie that Tells
Art is a lie but a lie that tells the truth.
- Pablo Picasso
In real life, how often do we address the truth directly? Do we discuss what personal history makes us act as we do? Do we bare our feelings? Do we admit our wrongdoings? How often do we even stop to examine these things? And does not examining them usually require a stop from the movement and action of our lives?
OK, yes - as artists, most of us probably engage in far more examination of truth, history, and motive than the average person. But most people (I have come to realize from the blank stares I sometimes get in attempting to start conversations on such matters) rarely think, much less speak, about such things.
In fact, I've dated men who act like the question, "Why?" was not even in their vocabulary, and who genuinely had never in their lives thought to question their motivations.
This is vitally important to understand when you are writing a screenplay. We must know the truth behind our story, the history of our characters, their feelings and wrongdoings... but they must rarely, if ever, speak of these things directly. Instead, they inform the choices and actions our characters take.
To discuss these truths too openly will make your story ring false.
I was reminded of this during last week's episode of NCIS. The team had a man in interrogation. At first, he lied, to avoid the consequences of his actions. His ranged from tone was matter-of-fact and casual to offended and outraged. Then, after further questioning - his tone changed and became more urgent. One of the observing characters noted that he was probably telling the truth because he was not pausing before answering, his answers were not overly elaborated.
This made me think: to communicate a believable truth in my writing, I need the character to have a sense of urgency, to act without hesitation, and to show things simply without excessive elaboration. (Think action movie)
And, to the opposite effect, if I want to communicate avoidance of truth (which is sometimes the whole point of a story) I should slow down the pace, add hesitation, and elaborate at length - particularly over irrelevant details. (Think drawing room drama)
In either case, however, the characters show or avoid the truth through their behavior and the tone of the dialogue - not through specifically speaking about it. Speaking about truth quickly becomes either pedantic and preachy or like watching a video of someone's therapy session.
There is an excellent post here examining some specific cases.
I will add, finally, that there can be times in a screenplay to reverse the rule and have a character directly speak a truth that's been only implied up to that point.
One use is comedy. Highlighting an aspect of a relationship or action that the characters involved have been avoiding. "Get a room already, you two." Best done by a tertiary or minor character (so as not to disrupt the primary relationships). A good example was also this last episode of NCIS, when a someone referred to one of the characters as a sidekick. This then played out through the rest of the episode in small comedic actions as this character attempted to step out of that role...but was not addressed directly again. Some screenplays even have a "fool" character whose role is primarily to say that thing that everyone is thinking but won't address.
Another use is the turning point, especially the mid-point. When the character is at their wit's end, and cannot figure out what else to do, they might have a moment of reflection in which they examine, find, and possibly even articulate their real motivations. The "a-ha" moment that gets them moving again and gives them the strength to face the rest of the challenges the story will throw at them. Just... keep it brief. Like the soldier being interrogated, they should speak the truth simply and with urgency.
Not to say there is no place in art for lengthy internal examination. Novels are an excellent medium for this. Film, however, is an external art. Moving pictures are most engaging when they are, well, moving.
- Pablo Picasso
In real life, how often do we address the truth directly? Do we discuss what personal history makes us act as we do? Do we bare our feelings? Do we admit our wrongdoings? How often do we even stop to examine these things? And does not examining them usually require a stop from the movement and action of our lives?
OK, yes - as artists, most of us probably engage in far more examination of truth, history, and motive than the average person. But most people (I have come to realize from the blank stares I sometimes get in attempting to start conversations on such matters) rarely think, much less speak, about such things.
In fact, I've dated men who act like the question, "Why?" was not even in their vocabulary, and who genuinely had never in their lives thought to question their motivations.
This is vitally important to understand when you are writing a screenplay. We must know the truth behind our story, the history of our characters, their feelings and wrongdoings... but they must rarely, if ever, speak of these things directly. Instead, they inform the choices and actions our characters take.
To discuss these truths too openly will make your story ring false.
I was reminded of this during last week's episode of NCIS. The team had a man in interrogation. At first, he lied, to avoid the consequences of his actions. His ranged from tone was matter-of-fact and casual to offended and outraged. Then, after further questioning - his tone changed and became more urgent. One of the observing characters noted that he was probably telling the truth because he was not pausing before answering, his answers were not overly elaborated.
This made me think: to communicate a believable truth in my writing, I need the character to have a sense of urgency, to act without hesitation, and to show things simply without excessive elaboration. (Think action movie)
And, to the opposite effect, if I want to communicate avoidance of truth (which is sometimes the whole point of a story) I should slow down the pace, add hesitation, and elaborate at length - particularly over irrelevant details. (Think drawing room drama)
In either case, however, the characters show or avoid the truth through their behavior and the tone of the dialogue - not through specifically speaking about it. Speaking about truth quickly becomes either pedantic and preachy or like watching a video of someone's therapy session.
There is an excellent post here examining some specific cases.
I will add, finally, that there can be times in a screenplay to reverse the rule and have a character directly speak a truth that's been only implied up to that point.
One use is comedy. Highlighting an aspect of a relationship or action that the characters involved have been avoiding. "Get a room already, you two." Best done by a tertiary or minor character (so as not to disrupt the primary relationships). A good example was also this last episode of NCIS, when a someone referred to one of the characters as a sidekick. This then played out through the rest of the episode in small comedic actions as this character attempted to step out of that role...but was not addressed directly again. Some screenplays even have a "fool" character whose role is primarily to say that thing that everyone is thinking but won't address.
Another use is the turning point, especially the mid-point. When the character is at their wit's end, and cannot figure out what else to do, they might have a moment of reflection in which they examine, find, and possibly even articulate their real motivations. The "a-ha" moment that gets them moving again and gives them the strength to face the rest of the challenges the story will throw at them. Just... keep it brief. Like the soldier being interrogated, they should speak the truth simply and with urgency.
Not to say there is no place in art for lengthy internal examination. Novels are an excellent medium for this. Film, however, is an external art. Moving pictures are most engaging when they are, well, moving.
Getting Frenzied
I'll be participating in Script Frenzy this year. I've filled in the points on the Blake Snyder beat sheet, and will be attempting to write an entire screenplay in the month of April.
Actually, my goal is even more ambitious. I plan to finish it in 20 days (6 pages a day is not unreasonable for me), and have time to polish it a little by the end of the month.
Working title: Spaz
A teenage girl hides her epilepsy to convince a former CIA agent to be her mentor, and ends up in over her head with the local Mexican mafia.
I've got the beats laid out. Now, time to write!
Actually, my goal is even more ambitious. I plan to finish it in 20 days (6 pages a day is not unreasonable for me), and have time to polish it a little by the end of the month.
Working title: Spaz
A teenage girl hides her epilepsy to convince a former CIA agent to be her mentor, and ends up in over her head with the local Mexican mafia.
I've got the beats laid out. Now, time to write!
Write Badly
Billy Mernitt, you have just knocked my favorite crutch away. My best excuse for procrastination. The reason I end up spinning in circles and efficiently avoiding forward progress on my screenplays (or any writing, really.) I don't have to get it "perfect."
According to Mr. Mernitt, who has every reason to know, it's not only OK to break the "rules" of screenwriting, sometimes it helps you achieve the one goal that is paramount for any screenwriter: make them empathize with the protagonist. Get them to feel. If it takes parentheticals, unfilmable asides about the character's internal thoughts and intentions, or lots of ellipses, then so be it.
Thinking about it, I am reminded of something I learned when studying poetry in college. It struck me while reading Sonnet: On the Sonnet by Keats. The Sonnet is a very structured form. Not the most difficult, but still fairly rigorous. (I laugh when people complain about screenplay form being too limiting.) In this sonnet, Keats breaks the rhythm in one line - and does so with the explicit intention of making the reader pause, of drawing attention to the one line.
I learned two things from that poem: 1) Let structure serve a meaningful function. The actual rhythm contributes to and/or echoes the content. 2) Drama and meaning can be derived from breaking the form - but there has to be a form there to break for that to work.
So I think my feeling about using such things as internal unfilmables, is that they should be used consciously. They should be placed in essential spots, to break the form a little, change the pace, make the reader stop and think. But to achieve that effect, the rest of the writing has to be fairly clean and straightforward.
I know the examples on Mr. Mernitt's blog include a script that seems to go beyond the selective use idea... but I also found it a difficult passage to read. Maybe it reads differently in context.
Have I come full circle? Have I just proposed something even more difficult than perfection - perfection with intentional flaws? Shhh. I don't care. I need to go write.
According to Mr. Mernitt, who has every reason to know, it's not only OK to break the "rules" of screenwriting, sometimes it helps you achieve the one goal that is paramount for any screenwriter: make them empathize with the protagonist. Get them to feel. If it takes parentheticals, unfilmable asides about the character's internal thoughts and intentions, or lots of ellipses, then so be it.
Thinking about it, I am reminded of something I learned when studying poetry in college. It struck me while reading Sonnet: On the Sonnet by Keats. The Sonnet is a very structured form. Not the most difficult, but still fairly rigorous. (I laugh when people complain about screenplay form being too limiting.) In this sonnet, Keats breaks the rhythm in one line - and does so with the explicit intention of making the reader pause, of drawing attention to the one line.
I learned two things from that poem: 1) Let structure serve a meaningful function. The actual rhythm contributes to and/or echoes the content. 2) Drama and meaning can be derived from breaking the form - but there has to be a form there to break for that to work.
So I think my feeling about using such things as internal unfilmables, is that they should be used consciously. They should be placed in essential spots, to break the form a little, change the pace, make the reader stop and think. But to achieve that effect, the rest of the writing has to be fairly clean and straightforward.
I know the examples on Mr. Mernitt's blog include a script that seems to go beyond the selective use idea... but I also found it a difficult passage to read. Maybe it reads differently in context.
Have I come full circle? Have I just proposed something even more difficult than perfection - perfection with intentional flaws? Shhh. I don't care. I need to go write.
Reminder to Self: How to Sell a Script
You pass it on to your connections. A screenwriter without connections very rarely makes a sale. Hollywood is the most incestuous industry aside from the mafia. Even porn is more open to outsiders.
So how do you get connections? I hate that phrase: "get connections." Connections are made and maintained, they are something dynamic and living - not a purchasable product.
You start by talking to people, getting to know others who are interested in the business - sites like Triggerstreet help for those of us not in Hollywood. Read blogs by those devoted to the craft and participate in the dialogue in the comments.
If there are local film/screenwriting groups or organizations like a local Screenwriters Association or Women in Film, participate. (There are both in Dallas. I need to join them.) Go to film festivals. And talk to people (a tough one for many writers), get their contact info, follow up a couple of weeks later to say it was good to meet them, and only hit them up after that when you have something relevant to them, such as updating them on what you are doing (provided you are actually doing something worth updating them on).
Otherwise: look up the production companies for films you like that are similar to what you write. (use the Hollywood Creative Directory) Mail them (e-mail or snail mail) query letters asking if they would be interested in reading your script.
Look up the screenwriters for those films, and find out who represents them, and get the contact info for those agents or agencies at least - and contact them
Don't expect to sell your script, so much as to offer it as a writing sample. You should have 3-4 solid scripts (as in ready to produce,) and if told that one is not what they are looking for, you can offer the others. This also shows you're not a one-shotter, and may have the stuff to be a professional writer - so you might get considered for assignments. Most produced screenplays are assignments (and adaptations at that) rather than specs.
So how do you get connections? I hate that phrase: "get connections." Connections are made and maintained, they are something dynamic and living - not a purchasable product.
You start by talking to people, getting to know others who are interested in the business - sites like Triggerstreet help for those of us not in Hollywood. Read blogs by those devoted to the craft and participate in the dialogue in the comments.
If there are local film/screenwriting groups or organizations like a local Screenwriters Association or Women in Film, participate. (There are both in Dallas. I need to join them.) Go to film festivals. And talk to people (a tough one for many writers), get their contact info, follow up a couple of weeks later to say it was good to meet them, and only hit them up after that when you have something relevant to them, such as updating them on what you are doing (provided you are actually doing something worth updating them on).
Otherwise: look up the production companies for films you like that are similar to what you write. (use the Hollywood Creative Directory) Mail them (e-mail or snail mail) query letters asking if they would be interested in reading your script.
Look up the screenwriters for those films, and find out who represents them, and get the contact info for those agents or agencies at least - and contact them
Don't expect to sell your script, so much as to offer it as a writing sample. You should have 3-4 solid scripts (as in ready to produce,) and if told that one is not what they are looking for, you can offer the others. This also shows you're not a one-shotter, and may have the stuff to be a professional writer - so you might get considered for assignments. Most produced screenplays are assignments (and adaptations at that) rather than specs.
Destiny and other problems
Slumdog Millionaire. Definitely one of the best films of last year. Not on my top ten list for the decade, but an enjoyable film that really struck a chord with audiences.
There has been a lot of debate over the film, including some points I think are worth taking a moment to address.
1) It's emotionally manipulative.
Well, uh, yeah. It's a movie. Seriously, though, this is I think one of the oddest complaints and its one I've seen directed toward other popular movies, like E.T. I've never been sure whether the problem is that it's transparent about the emotions it's working to evoke, that it does so clumsily or incompletely, that it becomes melodramatic, or that it does so too well. Nearly all films, including documentaries... in fact, nearly all art, is emotionally manipulative. Whether it's simply trying to share a sense of the wonder of a panorama, or to get us to share the soaring hopes and failures of a character, that is part of what movies do. Do you really think There Will Be Blood was not manipulative?
2) It's culturally biased.
Well, the Indian co-director did her best to help temper cultural insensitivities, and my impression is that she did an excellent job. A little of this is unavoidable any time you have a film being made about a country and culture that the director is not native to. I think it's far less culturally insensitive than, say, Last of the Mohicans is about Native Americans, or The Hunt for Red October is about Russians. Even a native Indian director would have their own bias: muslim/hindu, Mumbai native or from another city, etc.
3) It glamorizes poverty/It makes the poor look bad/It makes Mumbai look like a crime-ridden slum/It only shows one side of India
I did not find that it made poverty look appealing. I can't imagine any kid watching Slumdog and thinking it would be cool to be poor like that. Nor does it portray all the poor folks in the same light (all good or all bad.) I don't know how anyone could see the harshness of burning out a child's eye so they will make more money begging as "glamorizing," unless they were just looking at the pretty colors and the lovely cinematography. And in the two brothers it shows the choices that most poor face: embrace a life of crime and try to profit at great risk, OR work hard and be honest and hope that destiny will deliver you to a better life.
As for only showing one side of India or portraying Mumbai as a slum: The only slum larger than the one portrayed in Slumdog is in Nairobi. Dharavi is home to millions, and it is most definitely a slum (though one that is beginning to be redeveloped.) And since when has it been the responsibility of any movie to accurately portray an entire nation. It's not the job of a movie to give an accurate and balanced view of India, and this kind of criticism only points out how much further world cinema has to go.
4) Destiny? That's weak.
A lot of people were frustrated by the plot revolved which around a character who felt he was destined to achieve what he achieves. There are three things they miss.
First: Destiny holds a much more important place in the thinking of a culture where most marriages are still arranged and where poverty is a much less permeable barrier than in the US. The film's character believes in destiny.
Second: Most Hollywood Romance movies, and many other films, rely to a large extent on destiny. They found each other because they were meant to be together. It's a fairly common device.
Third: Destiny... or the sum of a life's choices? How can you tell the difference? is there one? I am sitting here now writing this blog, and I can go back and point to various instances in my life that led me to be exactly where I am and who I am now, that led up to this precise point. They were things that happened to me, and how I responded to them. To say that a character is Destined is only to say that what must occur does occur, or what does occur must. Destiny is no mystery. Destiny does not negate choices, it simply uses our choices to manifest itself.
5) The acting was weak.
OK. I concede this one. At least as far as the leads were concerned. I think that Dev Patel was flat, and am glad that he was only in a fraction of the film. The younger actors were full of spark and life and were completely wonderful. Frieda Pinto's performance completely lacked nuance - but that does not matter for reasons I'll get to shortly. The other actors, however, were great, including the older Salim. So I don't think Dev Patel should win any awards for his performance, but he did manage not to muck up the movie as a whole.
6) Latika was a golddigger, or Latika was way underdeveloped
There were subtleties in the character that a better actress could have brought to light. She sacrificed her virginity to save Jamal's life, but part of her wanted him to somehow stop Salim. Instead, Jamal ran away, and left her to become a trophy to the local mafioso. So yeah, when he showed up again it took her a little while to warm up to him. And she knew that if she ran away, the bad guys would come after her - so it would take some money to get someplace safe. Asking about money was practical, but it was also defensive - fear of being judged, criticism of Jamal who had abandoned her for so long... but ultimately, Latika's character and her feelings are unimportant for one simple reason.
I'm surprised that no one seems to have seen her this way, but Latika is not so much a character, as she is the MacGuffin.
Latika is what motivates much of the key action in the film, not just because she is what Jamal wants above all else, but because that desire directs many of Salim's actions, and desire to possess Latika motivates the beggar-king, and the mafioso.
Latika is the MacGuffin. It doesn't matter one bit if she loves Jamal. It's the journey toward her, toward the object of desire, that gives an order and a meaning to the otherwise apparently random string of events that make up Jamal's life.
There has been a lot of debate over the film, including some points I think are worth taking a moment to address.
1) It's emotionally manipulative.
Well, uh, yeah. It's a movie. Seriously, though, this is I think one of the oddest complaints and its one I've seen directed toward other popular movies, like E.T. I've never been sure whether the problem is that it's transparent about the emotions it's working to evoke, that it does so clumsily or incompletely, that it becomes melodramatic, or that it does so too well. Nearly all films, including documentaries... in fact, nearly all art, is emotionally manipulative. Whether it's simply trying to share a sense of the wonder of a panorama, or to get us to share the soaring hopes and failures of a character, that is part of what movies do. Do you really think There Will Be Blood was not manipulative?
2) It's culturally biased.
Well, the Indian co-director did her best to help temper cultural insensitivities, and my impression is that she did an excellent job. A little of this is unavoidable any time you have a film being made about a country and culture that the director is not native to. I think it's far less culturally insensitive than, say, Last of the Mohicans is about Native Americans, or The Hunt for Red October is about Russians. Even a native Indian director would have their own bias: muslim/hindu, Mumbai native or from another city, etc.
3) It glamorizes poverty/It makes the poor look bad/It makes Mumbai look like a crime-ridden slum/It only shows one side of India
I did not find that it made poverty look appealing. I can't imagine any kid watching Slumdog and thinking it would be cool to be poor like that. Nor does it portray all the poor folks in the same light (all good or all bad.) I don't know how anyone could see the harshness of burning out a child's eye so they will make more money begging as "glamorizing," unless they were just looking at the pretty colors and the lovely cinematography. And in the two brothers it shows the choices that most poor face: embrace a life of crime and try to profit at great risk, OR work hard and be honest and hope that destiny will deliver you to a better life.
As for only showing one side of India or portraying Mumbai as a slum: The only slum larger than the one portrayed in Slumdog is in Nairobi. Dharavi is home to millions, and it is most definitely a slum (though one that is beginning to be redeveloped.) And since when has it been the responsibility of any movie to accurately portray an entire nation. It's not the job of a movie to give an accurate and balanced view of India, and this kind of criticism only points out how much further world cinema has to go.
4) Destiny? That's weak.
A lot of people were frustrated by the plot revolved which around a character who felt he was destined to achieve what he achieves. There are three things they miss.
First: Destiny holds a much more important place in the thinking of a culture where most marriages are still arranged and where poverty is a much less permeable barrier than in the US. The film's character believes in destiny.
Second: Most Hollywood Romance movies, and many other films, rely to a large extent on destiny. They found each other because they were meant to be together. It's a fairly common device.
Third: Destiny... or the sum of a life's choices? How can you tell the difference? is there one? I am sitting here now writing this blog, and I can go back and point to various instances in my life that led me to be exactly where I am and who I am now, that led up to this precise point. They were things that happened to me, and how I responded to them. To say that a character is Destined is only to say that what must occur does occur, or what does occur must. Destiny is no mystery. Destiny does not negate choices, it simply uses our choices to manifest itself.
5) The acting was weak.
OK. I concede this one. At least as far as the leads were concerned. I think that Dev Patel was flat, and am glad that he was only in a fraction of the film. The younger actors were full of spark and life and were completely wonderful. Frieda Pinto's performance completely lacked nuance - but that does not matter for reasons I'll get to shortly. The other actors, however, were great, including the older Salim. So I don't think Dev Patel should win any awards for his performance, but he did manage not to muck up the movie as a whole.
6) Latika was a golddigger, or Latika was way underdeveloped
There were subtleties in the character that a better actress could have brought to light. She sacrificed her virginity to save Jamal's life, but part of her wanted him to somehow stop Salim. Instead, Jamal ran away, and left her to become a trophy to the local mafioso. So yeah, when he showed up again it took her a little while to warm up to him. And she knew that if she ran away, the bad guys would come after her - so it would take some money to get someplace safe. Asking about money was practical, but it was also defensive - fear of being judged, criticism of Jamal who had abandoned her for so long... but ultimately, Latika's character and her feelings are unimportant for one simple reason.
I'm surprised that no one seems to have seen her this way, but Latika is not so much a character, as she is the MacGuffin.
Latika is what motivates much of the key action in the film, not just because she is what Jamal wants above all else, but because that desire directs many of Salim's actions, and desire to possess Latika motivates the beggar-king, and the mafioso.
Latika is the MacGuffin. It doesn't matter one bit if she loves Jamal. It's the journey toward her, toward the object of desire, that gives an order and a meaning to the otherwise apparently random string of events that make up Jamal's life.
Catalysts
This is a sidebar to the Character Arc debate in Mystery Man's blog. Just some scattered thoughts I wanted to jot down before bed.
In some films, the central character does not serve to propel the story forward in a direct manner. Nor do they change. Yet they still are at the center of a dynamic story, and they are part of a mythical tradition in storytelling as valid as the Hero's Journey.
These catalytic characters fall into three main archetypes: The Fool, The Trickster, and The Messiah
Now, it is more common to find them as the antagonist (especially the Trickster, The Joker being an excellent example) - but they are sometimes used as the protagonist. And there are some cases of these characters being written with an arc, though that is not really in their nature. The story with these characters is the change they create in others.
The most obvious fool is Forrest Gump, however, not the most catalytic.
Butch and Sundance are Fools. The archetype has nothing to do with being stupid, but is of one who travels through the world on a journey, blissfully unaware of the changes/chaos they create in their passage. For Butch and Sundance, it catches up with them.
Indiana Jones is part Fool, part Trickster - and is very much the same man with the same desires and drives at the end of the first film as he was at the beginning - but he definitely triggers events, simply by being present.
Ferris Bueller: rarely has there been a better example of a Trickster catalyst in film. Absolutely drives the film, does not change, and inspires change in his friend.
Ghandi is a classic Messiah archetype. He inspires others to great change, while remaining very much the same himself. (The movie Ghandi, not to be confused with the real man, who very much changed over the course of his life.)
Captain Jack is a trickster and clearly a catalyst. Whose desires and actions drive central storyline of the Pirates trilogy? (OK, there are arguments for both Will and Elizabeth, but it's Jack's presence that gets things moving, and Jack who spurs them on.)
Another great trickster is Redford's character in The Sting, who does not himself change and yet is the catalyst for the rest of the characters to come together and to revive their old interests, and even to stretch their abilities.
Chance the Gardener in Being There is a combination Fool/Messiah, and one of the best examples of a catalytic character in film. He is clearly the protagonist, but he does not change, and is, in fact, incapable of changing. However, he triggers great change in the people who encounter him.
Powder: messiah... pretty blatantly so.
The Prestige, trickster (but is Bale the Protag? or the Antag?)
Axel in Beverly Hills Cop - Trickster
from TV: The Doctor (as in Who), Trickster
Bruce Willis in the 6th Sense was a Catalyst, but does he fit one of the above types?
Same for Poitier in To Sir with Love - arguably a Messiah, though teacher/mentor may be another archetype.
The lead in Seven Samurai... been a while, but as I remember, he starts off pretty much the same person he is throughout, but inspires other shogun to come together and protect the village.
Cool Hand Luke, again - it's been a long time. Other than accepting his fate (sacrifice), does Luke change?
McMurphy in Cuckoo's Nest?
Ethan, especially in MI 2, is portrayed as a Messianic figure.
hmmm... forgetting something that I started off wanting to talk about....
OK, need to go off to bed. Up much too late.
In some films, the central character does not serve to propel the story forward in a direct manner. Nor do they change. Yet they still are at the center of a dynamic story, and they are part of a mythical tradition in storytelling as valid as the Hero's Journey.
These catalytic characters fall into three main archetypes: The Fool, The Trickster, and The Messiah
Now, it is more common to find them as the antagonist (especially the Trickster, The Joker being an excellent example) - but they are sometimes used as the protagonist. And there are some cases of these characters being written with an arc, though that is not really in their nature. The story with these characters is the change they create in others.
The most obvious fool is Forrest Gump, however, not the most catalytic.
Butch and Sundance are Fools. The archetype has nothing to do with being stupid, but is of one who travels through the world on a journey, blissfully unaware of the changes/chaos they create in their passage. For Butch and Sundance, it catches up with them.
Indiana Jones is part Fool, part Trickster - and is very much the same man with the same desires and drives at the end of the first film as he was at the beginning - but he definitely triggers events, simply by being present.
Ferris Bueller: rarely has there been a better example of a Trickster catalyst in film. Absolutely drives the film, does not change, and inspires change in his friend.
Ghandi is a classic Messiah archetype. He inspires others to great change, while remaining very much the same himself. (The movie Ghandi, not to be confused with the real man, who very much changed over the course of his life.)
Captain Jack is a trickster and clearly a catalyst. Whose desires and actions drive central storyline of the Pirates trilogy? (OK, there are arguments for both Will and Elizabeth, but it's Jack's presence that gets things moving, and Jack who spurs them on.)
Another great trickster is Redford's character in The Sting, who does not himself change and yet is the catalyst for the rest of the characters to come together and to revive their old interests, and even to stretch their abilities.
Chance the Gardener in Being There is a combination Fool/Messiah, and one of the best examples of a catalytic character in film. He is clearly the protagonist, but he does not change, and is, in fact, incapable of changing. However, he triggers great change in the people who encounter him.
Powder: messiah... pretty blatantly so.
The Prestige, trickster (but is Bale the Protag? or the Antag?)
Axel in Beverly Hills Cop - Trickster
from TV: The Doctor (as in Who), Trickster
Bruce Willis in the 6th Sense was a Catalyst, but does he fit one of the above types?
Same for Poitier in To Sir with Love - arguably a Messiah, though teacher/mentor may be another archetype.
The lead in Seven Samurai... been a while, but as I remember, he starts off pretty much the same person he is throughout, but inspires other shogun to come together and protect the village.
Cool Hand Luke, again - it's been a long time. Other than accepting his fate (sacrifice), does Luke change?
McMurphy in Cuckoo's Nest?
Ethan, especially in MI 2, is portrayed as a Messianic figure.
hmmm... forgetting something that I started off wanting to talk about....
OK, need to go off to bed. Up much too late.
Barefoot In a Cactus Garden
EXT. SUBURBAN BACKYARD - DAY
A cactus garden - several shapes and kinds, cluster around a concrete platform. In the middle of them rises a mushroom-shaped aluminum vent, the blades on top spinning.
LYN (18), her red hair in braids, walks by. The edge of her Indian-print skirt catches on a large prickly pear. She bends to disentangle the fabric from the cactus.
Charlie (33), looks around the yard, and scratches his stubbly beard.
CHARLIE
Where is your pad, chickie?
LYN
Right here.
She frees her skirt, steps away from the cactus and onto the concrete, and points down.
INT. FALLOUT SHELTER - DAY
Lyn maneuvers around a small couch at the center of the cramped space.
Shelves are stocked with dusty cans. An AM/FM radio in the corner. An ashtray filled with butts, and some empty cans litter the floor.
Charlie makes his way down the ladder.
Lyn sits, uncomfortable, on the edge of the couch. Charlie sits beside her, she nervously jumps up - then sits again.
Charlie cracks a smile, an elfin grin of both sympathy and amusement.
CHARLIE
Tell me - what troubles you?
LYN
How - How did you know?
CHARLIE
Up in the Haight, I'm called the gardener.
He reaches into a shirt pocket and pulls out a joint, then sticks it behind an ear.
CHARLIE
I tend to all the flower children.
Lyn stands up now and faces him, but stays close.
LYN
Charlie. It's Charlie, right? I'm no delicate flower. And I don't need any gardener planting his seeds.
Charlie looks at her.
CHARLIE
Lynette. Lyn. Even a cactus -
He grasps the edge of her skirt, where it had caught the cactus above, and finds a needle there.
CHARLIE
-blooms once in a while. Flowers come in infinite variety. Some of them with thorns.
He pulls her arm out in front of her, opens her hand, and drops the cactus needle in her palm.
CHARLIE
That makes it special when you can get close to them.
Lyn melts, and flops back onto the couch. She leans slightly toward him, then pulls back again.
LYN
I guess I dig what you're saying.
CHARLIE
So, we're copascetic.
He pulls out the joint, and pats his pockets for a light. He stands, and starts looking through the stocks.
LYN
Over there. Matches are by the radio.
He lights the joint, then squats in front of her, and passes it to her. He waits for her to take a hit.
CHARLIE
When did your old man kick you out?
LYN
Wh- uh - he. How did you know?
He just grins.
She laughs.
LYN
Any little thing and he'd go ape, man. So, you know, I figured it was time to split.
She starts to tear up.
CHARLIE
Look, I've spent most of my life behind bars. Stupid shit mostly. Petty crimes.
LYN
Oh, that's golden. I've invited a criminal down here to get high. That's supposed to make me feel better?
CHARLIE
I'm tryin to tell you, man, for a lot of years I was seriously down on myself.
He holds her chin in his hand. Curiosity overwhelms her fear.
CHARLIE
Do you miss your daddy?
Lyn shakes her head no.
He holds her gaze a while longer.
She shakes her head yes.
CHARLIE
You wanted daddy to hit you.
She pulls away. Pushing Charlie from her, but with no real insistence.
LYN
Fuck you, Charlie.
CHARLIE
All little girls want their daddy's attention.
Lyn freezes. He gently pulls her into his arms, and strokes her hair.
CHARLIE
Prison was like that for me. I hated it, but I wanted it.
LYN
Do you still?
CHARLIE
No, man. I learned that the way out of a room was not through the door.
He taps his head.
CHARLIE
It's up here. Just don't want out, and you're free.
They both laugh.
CHARLIE
We've got a bus. Painted black, full of cushions and groovy people.
LYN
Yeah? OK.
CHARLIE
We're going up north again. Into the woods. Maybe back to the Haight. Come with us.
LYN
I can't.
He pushes her away from him.
She tries to lean on him again, but he pushes her up.
He stands up, and goes to the ladder.
LYN
You're leaving already?
He shrugs and goes up the ladder.
CHARLIE
Well, I can't make up your mind for you. Stay here with your Daddy if you want... But I think you'd love the Family.
She sits a moment, and looks at the cactus needle still clutched in one hand. She takes it and presses it into her fingertip, drawing out a small drop of blood.
LYN
Charlie? I'm coming.
She licks the blood from her finger, and follows him out of the shelter.
round 2, Murder at India House
FADE IN
EXT. INDIA HOUSE HOSTEL IN NEW ORLEANS, BACK PATIO - NIGHT
TOPHER (24) is slumped over in his wheelchair with a backpack on the back, a wine bottle propped between his scrawny legs.
A beach ball comes flying through the air and bounces off his head.
He pulls himself straight, one eyebrow raised high, smacks his lips and looks around.
FEMALE VOICE
Knock it off, guys. Hey Topher - you OK?
Topher whips the wheelchair around, and pops a wheelie - but ends up losing control and tipping backward. The wine in his lap spills all over his shirt and face.
Laughter (O.S.)
Inside the house, Topher sees the shadows of partiers on the walls, movement and dancing.
LEVI, a short guy with a trendy hair, looks down at him, and winds an unlit cigarette between his fingers. Without turning, he gestures for someone behind him
HIRO, expensive digital camera in front of his face, comes to the window. Levi whispers something in his ear.
Hiro lowers the camera, and gives Levi a playful punch.
Levi makes pistols with his fingers and shoots, "bang, bang" - not at Topher, but at someone nearby.
Hiro turns his camera in the same direction.
EMILY comes to his rescue and and lifts the chair back up.
EMILY
Those guys are jerks when they drink.
TOPHER
Me, on the other hand - I'm an amateur in the drunken asshatery department, but I think I've got a good start.
EMILY
Epic fail, dude. Next time aim the wine spillage in his direction.
She points up at Levi.
TOPHER
What's your name again?
EMILY
Oh? I may have to re-evaluate your amateur standing.
TOPHER
Oh come on. We just met. I would've forgot your name even sober.
EMILY
Well, that's reassuring. Emily.
Levi comes over with a drink in his hand.
LEVI
Topher my man, you seem to have run dry.
TOPHER
I don't think you could call me "dry."
He gestures to the spilled wine.
LEVI
One more. My signature cocktail.
Topher accepts the beverage, takes a sip.
Levi crouches down behind Emily, leans his chin on her head.
LEVI
Now, Em, if you don't get your rest, tomorrow I'm just going to kill you.
EMILY
Ha. Ha.
Topher nods off again.
INT. INDIA HOUSE, DORM ROOM - NIGHT
Topher is passed out, drooling on a pillow.
A scream somewhere in the building awakens him with a start.
TOPHER
Emily?
He sits up, and swings his legs over the side of the bed.
Woozy, he sways a moment. The room is dark. In fact, the whole place seems remarkably dark and quiet.
Another scream.
TOPHER
What the fuck? Hello? People?
His chair is parked at the foot of the bed. He scoots down to it, rummages through the backpack hanging on the back, and pulls out a flashlight.
He flashes it around the dorm room. No one is in any of the other beds. Hiro's camera sits on one of them, pointed at a spot in the middle of the floor, on and recording.
Topher rubs his face to wake up, and pulls his wine-stained shirt away from his body. He climbs into his chair, and wheels over to the camera.
He starts rolling, and then suddenly stops. Something wet and sticky on his hand. Something wet and sticky on the wheel.
He takes a deep breath, and shines the flashlight at his hand. Red. Not wine. Thicker. Visceral. Blood.
He shines the light around the room again. Stops on the camera. Looks in the direction it's pointed.
Face down on the floor, in a pool of dark wetness, is a body.
TOPHER
Oh shit.
He wheels to it, shining the light on it.
It's Hiro. And wet tracks lead back to Topher's bed.
Topher pulls his backpack into his lap, and digs through it. He pulls out his phone, flips it open, and gets a black screen.
TOPHER
No. No. I refuse to accept that.
He tried turning it on, and nothing happens. He throws it across the room.
Levi stands in the shadows at the doorway.
LEVI
Temper, temper.
TOPHER
We've got to call 911.
LEVI
No.
TOPHER
What?
He shines his flashlight on Hiro.
TOPHER
We've got to call 911, man.
Levi shakes his head. Walks away.
LEVI
Hey, man, where's your little girlfriend?
He disappears into the dark hall.
Topher's face drops.
FLASHBACK
Levi making a shooting gesture at someone, just before Emily picked up Topher's chair.
END FLASHBACK
Topher starts toward the hallway, but then pauses, and shines his flashlight around the room, desperately looking for something. He stops, then weighs the flashlight in his hands. It's got some heft. He swings it, then turns it off.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he adjusts to the dark. There is some light coming from outside, so it's not as pitch black as he first thought.
He slowly wheels into the hallway, flashlight in his lap, listening carefully.
HALLWAY
A squeak. The faint silhouette of Levi, who seems to be facing him.
He pushes forward.
Levi steps back.
COMMON ROOMS
They are in the common area now, with a little more light coming in from outside. Christopher stops and looks around.
There are people here - all sitting quietly, as if waiting, like they are waiting for a bus.
One of the party girls from last night sips a mug of coffee.
A guy nods to him.
TOPHER
Where is she? Where's Emily?
PARTY GIRL
It's her turn to die. I'm next.
No one reacts.
Levi continues to back away, leading him. In the dim light, Topher can see that Levi has another camera.
From under the door of one of the private rooms, a bright light shines.
Topher ignores Levi and rushes to it.
He slams the door open, and floodlights blind him for a moment.
PRIVATE ROOM
When they adjust, he sees Emily, gagged and tied to a leg of the bed, struggling. Her wrists are raw. Her clothes are slashed and bloodstained.
She sees Topher, and her eyes widen. She shakes her head no desperately.
Topher rushes in, but can't negotiate the small room.
A camera hangs from the ceiling, spinning, recording Emily's struggle.
Topher throws himself from the chair, and crawls to her.
Levi is behind them, recording them.
Emily looks at Levi, confused, then at Topher.
She reaches up, and pulls the gag out of her mouth.
EMILY
Dude. You ruined my scene.
Levi laughs.
Topher looks confused.
Levi walks over to the dangling camera, and turns it off.
He leans in close to Topher.
LEVI
Cut.
FADE IN
*squeeeeeeeeeeeee!!*
So, uh, that competition?
The one I barely managed to complete the assignment for, with zero editing?
Figured I'd do Ok. Top third. Enough so that I could do well in the overall, since the points for each round accumulate.
I placed #1 in my group.
Wow.
Just a reminder that deadlines are good for me.
Specifically short, tight, non-negotiable deadlines.
Keeps me from over-thinking.
The one I barely managed to complete the assignment for, with zero editing?
Figured I'd do Ok. Top third. Enough so that I could do well in the overall, since the points for each round accumulate.
I placed #1 in my group.
Wow.
Just a reminder that deadlines are good for me.
Specifically short, tight, non-negotiable deadlines.
Keeps me from over-thinking.
Desire's Revenge
Here it is, exactly as submitted. Genre: Horror, Location: Shipwreck, Object: Pillow
Written in 1 hr 40 minutes, with zero outlining, editing or proofreading.
(My first try posting something with scrippets, still have some kinks to work out with the formatting.)
Written in 1 hr 40 minutes, with zero outlining, editing or proofreading.
(My first try posting something with scrippets, still have some kinks to work out with the formatting.)
EXT. OCEAN - NIGHT
Darkness, and the subtle shimmer of moving water.
Light, the beacon from a lighthouse, sweeps across the water, revealing sharp rocks and churning waves breaking on them.
The light sweeps by, then is gone leaving darkness for a moment. When it sweeps by again, a broken board floats by.
On the third pass, more flotsam - and among the wreckage, a man clinging to the remains of his bunk, clutching a white pillow. He appears dead, until his hands start to tremble, and he shivers.
One more pass. Something slippery and scaly slips from sight just as the light hits it. The man tilts into the water, floats a moment, bobbing, then is pulled underneath.
FLASHBACK
EXT. THE SCHOONER DESIRE'S REWARD - DAY
Quartermaster JOHN DUNHAM oversees the distribution of fish and goods from a net.
JOHN DUNHAM
Looks like we'll be eating well for a week boys.
The sailors, about a dozen men on the boat all cheer.
Just past the Desire is a fishing boat, run up on the rocks and sinking slowly.
JIM BLACK, the boatswain, watches the wreck.
JIM BLACK
Mister Dunham, sir, if I may?
JOHN DUNHAM
Yes, Boatswain?
JIM BLACK
If we could anchor here in the shallows a while, I could use some of the lumbar and ropes from the fishing boat to finish some repairs to the Desire.
John looks around, spys Captain WILL POWER inspecting the rigging, and waves him over.
JOHN DUNHAM
Ask the Captain.
WILL POWER
What can I do for you, Johnny?
JOHN DUNHAM
Mr. Black here proposes we stay a while, and cannibalize that unfortunate tub over there for the Desire's betterment.
WILL POWER
Is that so Jim?
JIM BLACK
Yes Captain. Since we've got food here to hold us a bit, I thought it would be a good time to remain still for a couple of days.
WILL POWER
Allrighty then, we will.
He notices something shine among the fishes in the nets, and reaches for it. It's a fancy comb, silver and mother of pearl. A pretty thing, tangled with seaweed.
WILL POWER
Quartermaster, I claim this small prize for myself. A pretty for one of me wenches when we return to Port Royal.
He plucks out the seaweed, and then is overcome by a sudden shiver, despite the sunny day.
INT. CAPTAIN'S QUARTERS - NIGHT
Will and John sit at the captain's table with the FIRST MATE.
John and the First Mate are laughing. John eats with his fork, carefully cutting of pieces of fish, and squeezing lemon over the top.
JOHN DUNHAM
Fresh fish and fresh lemons.
FIRST MATE
Better than salt cod and ancient limes. My skin was starting to form a salt crust.
Will is distracted, pulling bites of fish off the bones with his fingers and eating them. He toys with the comb under the table.
LATER
Alone, Will lays on his bunk, and tucks the comb into the cover of his pillow.
He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, a beautiful woman is lying close beside him. Her blue-green eyes are full of the dreaminess of a calm sea, and her smile is warm and inviting.
She strokes his cheek, and then suddenly kisses him with forceful passion. Rolling him on his back, she rips open his shirt, and he realizes she is naked.
He reaches for her breasts, and she slides downward, kissing his chest, wiggling along his body.
LATER
Will opens his eyes again, and sits up. He's alone. He starts to shake off the dream, but notices his shirt is torn.
He touches the pillow where the mysterious woman appeared. It's wet.
EXT. DESIRE'S REWARD - DAY
Will wanders along the deck. The sharp eye that was inspecting the rigging has faded, his gaze is dull.
The sailors whisper to themselves as he passes.
The wreck in the distance has been stripped down to its bones.
FIRST MATE
Captain Power, sir, the men were wondering.
WILL POWER
The men?
FIRST MATE
Well, I was wondering - when might we be setting sail again?
WILL POWER
Well, when we are done with repairs.
FIRST MATE
Allright then sir.
He looks concerned and confused and walks away.
JOHN DUNHAM
Will, the repairs were completed yesterday. You said we'd sail after one more night.
WILL POWER
Oh? Did I? Then we will. We will sail tomorrow.
JOHN DUNHAM
What is going on? I can't remember the last time you were content to be in one place for nearly 7 days.
WILL POWER
This place has its charms, is all. But we'll sail tomorrow. Time to head to Port Royal.
INT. CAPTAIN'S QUARTERS - NIGHT
Will lays on his bunk, clutching the pillow to his cheek, eyes squeezed shut. He opens them again. Nothing has changed. He is still alone. He tries again, with the same result.
EXT. DESIRE'S REVENGE - DAY
Will has more bounce in his step, he's focused and awake.
WILL POWER
Allrighty men, what are you waiting for? To Port Royal?
EXT. DESIRE'S REWARD - NIGHT
A storm lashes at the ship.
Will stands at the helm, but there's a glazed expression on his face. He stares into the distance, as if he sees something.
JOHN DUNHAM
Will! Mind the rocks!
WILL POWER
Do you hear it?
JOHN DUNHAM
I hear only the storm.
WILL POWER
Her voice.
He walks away, and John tries to grab hold of the steering and bring the ship back under control, but the wheel is too hard to turn.
Suddenly a calm overcomes the ship.
Women climb over the railings. A dozen of them. Beautiful and naked, their skin glowing pink like the red tides. They each approach a man, taking his hand. The men all leave their posts and follow them. They lay down on the deck with the women.
John still fights with the wheel, as if he still sees the storm. He looks up and across the deck, as a wave washes over it, and sees the men, alone, lying down.
JOHN DUNHAM
What are you doing?
The captain, looking at the same deck, but in a calm and foggy night, sees the woman from his dream. She takes his hand and leads him into his room.
INT. CAPTAIN'S QUARTERS - NIGHT
She lays him down gently on the bunk, lays beside him, pressed against him, both of them resting their heads on the pillow.
Suddenly, again, she flips him on his back and straddles him.
EXT. DESIRE'S REWARD - NIGHT
The ship's bow breaks against the rocks, splintering, splitting open and letting the stormy water rush in.
Darkness, and the subtle shimmer of moving water.
Light, the beacon from a lighthouse, sweeps across the water, revealing sharp rocks and churning waves breaking on them.
The light sweeps by, then is gone leaving darkness for a moment. When it sweeps by again, a broken board floats by.
On the third pass, more flotsam - and among the wreckage, Will, clinging to the remains of his bunk, clutching a white pillow. He appears dead, until his hands start to tremble, and he shivers.
One more pass. Something slippery and scaly slips from sight just as the light hits it. William tilts into the water, floats a moment, bobbing, then is pulled, still clutching the pillow underneath.
ack!
I entered the NYC midnight screenwriting challenge. For those not familiar with it, you are given a genre, a location, and an object and have 48 hours to write a 5-page screenplay.
I entered. Excited. Figured I had time off to work on it, since it was around my birthday.
...didn't realize that I'd be busy all day, shopping and getting a mani/pedi, then going out to dinner with my sister and my dad. (And a really outstanding dinner it was. Craft is my new favorite restaurant in Dallas. A little room for improvement with the service, but the food is uncomplicated and just heaven. Pricey. But heaven.) I mean, I knew I'd be busy, but thought I'd have some time to write. I didn't.
Still, I didn't stress about it, figured I'd write when I got home. Did not anticipate the results of eating braised short ribs, buffalo tenderloin, lamb shoulder (all dishes are served family style) and roasted jerusalem artichokes, pumpkin risotto, sauteed wild mushrooms...not to mention dessert. Oh, and let's not forget the mushroom fondue amuse bouche and the fois gras and roasted fig appetizer.) Specifically, I fell asleep with the notebook on my chest.
I never fall asleep while writing. Really. There is literally only one other time in my life I've done that.
OK, so today. I figured I could write a little at work. However, after two days off I was busy all day sorting things out, and preparing for the meeting after work, and finishing updating the stats for the clinic. I got out of there around 8, and realized that I had even less time than I thought - because the deadline was 11:59 EDT... and it takes me almost an hour to get home.
Get home, eat dinner rapidly, sit down, and it's 9:20.
at 10:48 I realize I'm almost done, but not quite - so I open up the website to start the entry, then return to my script and finish the last page. I squeak by, at 10:58 I'm uploading - and my spotty internet connection cuts out. It comes back a few minutes later and I am able to submit.
So, if they time it based on when I started the entry, I'm cool. If they base it on when I actually uploaded the file, I'm about 8 minutes late.
Of course, it's totally unedited or proofread and really desperately needs to be tightened and then finessed. Its not what I hoped for...BUT it did give me a really cool idea for a full length screenplay.
I'll post the script here soon, though I do not pretend that it's anything more than adequate... it's certainly not bad for having been written entirely in an hour and 38 minutes.
I entered. Excited. Figured I had time off to work on it, since it was around my birthday.
...didn't realize that I'd be busy all day, shopping and getting a mani/pedi, then going out to dinner with my sister and my dad. (And a really outstanding dinner it was. Craft is my new favorite restaurant in Dallas. A little room for improvement with the service, but the food is uncomplicated and just heaven. Pricey. But heaven.) I mean, I knew I'd be busy, but thought I'd have some time to write. I didn't.
Still, I didn't stress about it, figured I'd write when I got home. Did not anticipate the results of eating braised short ribs, buffalo tenderloin, lamb shoulder (all dishes are served family style) and roasted jerusalem artichokes, pumpkin risotto, sauteed wild mushrooms...not to mention dessert. Oh, and let's not forget the mushroom fondue amuse bouche and the fois gras and roasted fig appetizer.) Specifically, I fell asleep with the notebook on my chest.
I never fall asleep while writing. Really. There is literally only one other time in my life I've done that.
OK, so today. I figured I could write a little at work. However, after two days off I was busy all day sorting things out, and preparing for the meeting after work, and finishing updating the stats for the clinic. I got out of there around 8, and realized that I had even less time than I thought - because the deadline was 11:59 EDT... and it takes me almost an hour to get home.
Get home, eat dinner rapidly, sit down, and it's 9:20.
at 10:48 I realize I'm almost done, but not quite - so I open up the website to start the entry, then return to my script and finish the last page. I squeak by, at 10:58 I'm uploading - and my spotty internet connection cuts out. It comes back a few minutes later and I am able to submit.
So, if they time it based on when I started the entry, I'm cool. If they base it on when I actually uploaded the file, I'm about 8 minutes late.
Of course, it's totally unedited or proofread and really desperately needs to be tightened and then finessed. Its not what I hoped for...BUT it did give me a really cool idea for a full length screenplay.
I'll post the script here soon, though I do not pretend that it's anything more than adequate... it's certainly not bad for having been written entirely in an hour and 38 minutes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
