Last week I read Little Miss Sunshine, Good Will Hunting, Sling Blade, and Swingers. The one similarity that I noticed among them all was that each had at least one moment where a character goes off for nearly a page in an unrealistically articulated rant that defies the conventions of screenwriting in its length. All were good reads, but my favorite by far was Sling Blade. I have not seen the film and found the story to be rich and similar to the short novel Noon Wine by Katherine Anne Porter.
Swingers was rather gruelling and while I enjoyed the humor and the quirky characters, I didn't find the story or main character to be very engrossing.
Good Will Hunting exists within its own little world. It was nice to read about Irish Americans, but the world felt a little too neatly "closed" off to reality. I had trouble visualizing much outside of Southie. But maybe that was the point. I've always thought the title was tacky, but what do I know?
Little Miss Sunshine read quickly and was fun, and it was interesting to see which sequences they either lengthened or cut for the film.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Juno
I was up late last night reading the screenplay for Diablo Cody's Juno. It was no surprise that I found as little to admire in the script as I did in the film itself. The humor is simply quite different from mine -- I don't find a lot funny about characters who always have unrealistically well-thought out comebacks and speak and act as if they're winking at the audience, reminding them, "Isn't this funny that I'm supposed to be 16 and pregnant but don't really care and am as precocious as hell yet say things like 'this is way beyond my maturity level' ?"
And yet, Ms. Cody has won an Oscar for this screenplay, and has thousands, perhaps millions, of Juno fans, so I am more than likely in the minority. Although I downloaded the script from a website, it claimed it was the production script and as such, I was shocked by how many errors there were in the text... it makes me wonder just how polished any of my "polished" scripts actually are!
In short, I learned a very valuable lesson last night (Monday) after having spent last week and weekend obsessively reading Keats' letters and poetry: Do not read Diablo Cody right after reading Keats. The outcome is volatile and, while it varies from person to person, the prognosis is almost always the same -- a gaping maw over the aesthetics of current art.
That said, I had the opportunity to meet Diablo Cody last spring, and after clubbing with her, I can tell you that she is a lovely, intelligent, well-educated lady who I'm sure can do better than Juno.
And yet, Ms. Cody has won an Oscar for this screenplay, and has thousands, perhaps millions, of Juno fans, so I am more than likely in the minority. Although I downloaded the script from a website, it claimed it was the production script and as such, I was shocked by how many errors there were in the text... it makes me wonder just how polished any of my "polished" scripts actually are!
In short, I learned a very valuable lesson last night (Monday) after having spent last week and weekend obsessively reading Keats' letters and poetry: Do not read Diablo Cody right after reading Keats. The outcome is volatile and, while it varies from person to person, the prognosis is almost always the same -- a gaping maw over the aesthetics of current art.
That said, I had the opportunity to meet Diablo Cody last spring, and after clubbing with her, I can tell you that she is a lovely, intelligent, well-educated lady who I'm sure can do better than Juno.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Thoughts on Structure
I've been reading Story by Robert McKee and find myself wishing more students in the MFA program were also required to read such a text. I know it is slightly dated, but it gets to the core of what makes an engaging, compelling story (not just on the screen) and so many pieces I have read in workshop have, to put it bluntly, bored me to death. Furthermore, nothing happens in them. That isn't to say that every story needs to have a murder and a double-crossing and a shocking turn of events, but at least introduce what is at stake for the protagonist, what their goal(s) are in the story, and make sure they do something rather than let everything be done to to them. Be proactive.
I can't tell you (whoever "you" are -- I'm still unclear as to who will be reading this) how many stories I have read in my Fiction workshops where a character wanders around, thinking about the miscommunication that led to their recent break-up, remembering one time when they saw their father do something strange, then come upon a bus depot, contemplate going somewhere, then decide to just go home in the rain. And the whole point is: we're alone, we bring misfortune on ourselves, we pass up opportunities for change, take pity on us. Really? That's original? That's depth? That's a message worth repeating, worth reminding? I'm not an insamely optimistic person or anything, but I don't have time for bland, "soul-searching," downer stories like that. Not when the same task can be accomplished in a much more entertaining way.
And what's wrong with being entertaining? I get teased by my peers for admitting that my first goal when writing is always to entertain. I guess it doesn't sound very "literary." But, as McKee points out, entertainment isn't something to be scoffed at. It is a ceremony -- a meeting of the minds where the artist(s) and the audience make a connection. When the story is engaging, the audience/reader willfully surrenders their identity for the sake of the experience. What more could you ask of someone? What more could you hope for? And while the self is surrendered, is it not easier to accept whatever social messages may be contained in the narrative, what truths may lie behind characters' actions without feeling like you've been preached to?
I have no shame in admitting that I write for the here and now -- for a career and the benefits of it -- not to create something that lasts through the ages to attest to my existence. If that happens along the way (well, I supposed it would be hundreds of years after my death) then great, but is that a goal? No way. I'm no Achilles. But I do feel that if you can touch people in the here and now, if you can move them in some way or help shed light on a truth or a message, they may change the way they think and act, which will influence those around them, which will echo into the generations they help raise... and then a hundred years from now, after you are long forgotten, the grain of something you helped a reader/viewer realize may exist in someone's mind and help better an existence. That's an impact feasibly worth striving for.
Besides, I've only just turned 26. Half of my peers in the program are around my age, the other half is older. But it's the younger people who seem determined to have their pathos acknowledged and made valid through expressing the emptiness, etc. Sure, your twenties can be a tough time, but seriously -- the thought that anyone under 30 has some remarkable truth to depart that thousands of writers before them haven't shared, and will be recognized as a great work of genius for hundreds of years isn't likely. Unless, of course, they really are a genius. But if not, well, you have to, you know, live a long time before have enough experience to express something profound that is entirely unique. And even then you may fall into the trap of the Old White Man Writer Club. I'll save that for another post, if such a post is even relevant.
Anyway, I have no idea if this is the type of material I'm supposed to cover. Over the past few weeks I have been reading the texts on the reading list for my internship, have met with Professor Dallas, have spoken to agents, managers, and recently a very entertaining producer, to help guide my own career and have gained insight into the Hollywood system with each conversation.
And in short -- while some writers may enjoy subverting the tenants of "story" to be "cutting edge," I'd argue that you better be damn sure you fully understand structure before you play with it. And besides, we have dreams to subvert story. Everyone has them. Which means everyone's capable of deconstructing structure. Which makes me wonder why we laud structure-less texts so much, when not everyone can write a structured story. I guess it's because when something is really good, like a ballerina's dance, it seems so effortless and easy that we ignore it.
I can't tell you (whoever "you" are -- I'm still unclear as to who will be reading this) how many stories I have read in my Fiction workshops where a character wanders around, thinking about the miscommunication that led to their recent break-up, remembering one time when they saw their father do something strange, then come upon a bus depot, contemplate going somewhere, then decide to just go home in the rain. And the whole point is: we're alone, we bring misfortune on ourselves, we pass up opportunities for change, take pity on us. Really? That's original? That's depth? That's a message worth repeating, worth reminding? I'm not an insamely optimistic person or anything, but I don't have time for bland, "soul-searching," downer stories like that. Not when the same task can be accomplished in a much more entertaining way.
And what's wrong with being entertaining? I get teased by my peers for admitting that my first goal when writing is always to entertain. I guess it doesn't sound very "literary." But, as McKee points out, entertainment isn't something to be scoffed at. It is a ceremony -- a meeting of the minds where the artist(s) and the audience make a connection. When the story is engaging, the audience/reader willfully surrenders their identity for the sake of the experience. What more could you ask of someone? What more could you hope for? And while the self is surrendered, is it not easier to accept whatever social messages may be contained in the narrative, what truths may lie behind characters' actions without feeling like you've been preached to?
I have no shame in admitting that I write for the here and now -- for a career and the benefits of it -- not to create something that lasts through the ages to attest to my existence. If that happens along the way (well, I supposed it would be hundreds of years after my death) then great, but is that a goal? No way. I'm no Achilles. But I do feel that if you can touch people in the here and now, if you can move them in some way or help shed light on a truth or a message, they may change the way they think and act, which will influence those around them, which will echo into the generations they help raise... and then a hundred years from now, after you are long forgotten, the grain of something you helped a reader/viewer realize may exist in someone's mind and help better an existence. That's an impact feasibly worth striving for.
Besides, I've only just turned 26. Half of my peers in the program are around my age, the other half is older. But it's the younger people who seem determined to have their pathos acknowledged and made valid through expressing the emptiness, etc. Sure, your twenties can be a tough time, but seriously -- the thought that anyone under 30 has some remarkable truth to depart that thousands of writers before them haven't shared, and will be recognized as a great work of genius for hundreds of years isn't likely. Unless, of course, they really are a genius. But if not, well, you have to, you know, live a long time before have enough experience to express something profound that is entirely unique. And even then you may fall into the trap of the Old White Man Writer Club. I'll save that for another post, if such a post is even relevant.
Anyway, I have no idea if this is the type of material I'm supposed to cover. Over the past few weeks I have been reading the texts on the reading list for my internship, have met with Professor Dallas, have spoken to agents, managers, and recently a very entertaining producer, to help guide my own career and have gained insight into the Hollywood system with each conversation.
And in short -- while some writers may enjoy subverting the tenants of "story" to be "cutting edge," I'd argue that you better be damn sure you fully understand structure before you play with it. And besides, we have dreams to subvert story. Everyone has them. Which means everyone's capable of deconstructing structure. Which makes me wonder why we laud structure-less texts so much, when not everyone can write a structured story. I guess it's because when something is really good, like a ballerina's dance, it seems so effortless and easy that we ignore it.
Monday, September 14, 2009
The Beginning
I've started this blog as a place to record both what I do as an intern and my reflections on, well, what I do as an intern.
This post has come rather late since school has been in session for a while now. With the help of wonderful professors, we have managed to navigate through the horrendous budget cuts in California and the bureaucracy is done. I'm officially an intern for Professor Barnaby Dallas and will give coverage on scripts considered for production for both Maverick Films and Spartan Films.
I've started the process by re-reading David Trottier's The Screenwriter's Bible: A Complete Guide to Writing, Formatting, and Selling your Script to make sure my understanding of act structure was solid. Now onto one of the other readings before I get my first script to read!
This post has come rather late since school has been in session for a while now. With the help of wonderful professors, we have managed to navigate through the horrendous budget cuts in California and the bureaucracy is done. I'm officially an intern for Professor Barnaby Dallas and will give coverage on scripts considered for production for both Maverick Films and Spartan Films.
I've started the process by re-reading David Trottier's The Screenwriter's Bible: A Complete Guide to Writing, Formatting, and Selling your Script to make sure my understanding of act structure was solid. Now onto one of the other readings before I get my first script to read!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)