The Importance of Actors
I recently watched "Letters to Juliette." It's not a film I would normally have watched. I like RomComs occasionally, especially when I want something escapist, but this movie seemed to be pitched to high-school girls and the leads seemed immature. I watched this movie despite that, because it had Vanessa Redgrave. And I like the idea of an older woman searching for her true love. Romance for grandmothers doesn't happen often in the movies. Even so, it almost lost me before she even arrived.
The familiar tropes are there, which is fine for a Romantic Comedy. The concept is a little bit different and clever. But the characters and dialogue fail miserably. The lead is dull and wimpy, with an annoying fiance and no clear reason for them to be together. None. Yes, we know the guy she's with at the beginning will be the wrong guy, but if there's no good reason for them to be in a relationship - it undermines the integrity of the characters.
Then you have the romantic interest, who is such a completely boorish, rude, pretentious little twit it's impossible to empathize with him, even when his motivation for bad behaviour is supposedly for a good reason (to protect his grandmother.) And even after spending time together, there's no real build of any connection between them. And the girl's project seems silly and selfish - there's no real depth of insight.
But then there's Ms. Redgrave.
She breathes, and makes it a moment. She takes the most trite lines and delivers them in surprising ways. There is a scene when she is reprimanding her grandson for being hurtful to Amanda Seyfriend's character - and the most obvious delivery of the lines would have been harsh or angry. But she sighs, and with a gentle gesture, turns it into a tender and affectionate moment.
Really, calling this a comedy is a stretch - there are a couple of funny moments, but they are handled poorly. The actors, mostly, are too weak to make their characters believable, funny, or likable. Except for Vanessa Redgrave. It was worth watching a bad film, just because it highlighted the beauty of her performance.
This film made it clear to me, too, the importance of good actors. A decent line will fall flat in a bad actor's mouth. An average actor may disappear when playing an average character - but a good actor, like a good photographer, may make even and ugly baby look beautiful
an old poem
this came up in conversation on facebook... I wrote this 20 years ago
Alight
I, curled tight,
buried under blankets
as if the brooding earth,
respond
to the slow dawn
unfurling,
stretch, breaking open:
a shoot from the seed
serpent from the shell.
Sunlight
(warm as spooning on my back)
pierces me,
busts through my split hull
and out
my belly
low,
spreading into a sheer skirt
illuminating my labia.
Nails graze my spine,
a drawn out sigh,
caress of sunlight
illuminating my body.
Witness
the seraphim rebirth:
tripled wings erupting
slow motion unfurling;
screaming
as shoulder blades
cut
my back &
wings burst through.
I rise from my bed with the sun.
Demonangel darkness is
another shade of light.
Alight
I, curled tight,
buried under blankets
as if the brooding earth,
respond
to the slow dawn
unfurling,
stretch, breaking open:
a shoot from the seed
serpent from the shell.
Sunlight
(warm as spooning on my back)
pierces me,
busts through my split hull
and out
my belly
low,
spreading into a sheer skirt
illuminating my labia.
Nails graze my spine,
a drawn out sigh,
caress of sunlight
illuminating my body.
Witness
the seraphim rebirth:
tripled wings erupting
slow motion unfurling;
screaming
as shoulder blades
cut
my back &
wings burst through.
I rise from my bed with the sun.
Demonangel darkness is
another shade of light.
Streeetch
Writing a single, continuous 9 page scene with no time cuts or location changes is a challenge.
More later.
More later.
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.
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