I'm trying to give away this awesome TV:
Yes, that is a cabinet TV. It weighs thirty thousand pounds but it's on wheels and I have an elevator, yet nobody on Craigslist seems to want my beautiful television. It's an RCA 27" and it was actually made in 1997 as far as I know. You have to tune it to channel 91. Why? I don't know. It's always been a big mystery. The TV works just fine, but I don't want to move it again and I bought a new flat screen instead with my credit card points.
Every time people come over they say to me, "Is that a cabinet TV? How old is that thing?"
When the Beefcake bought me a Wii for Christmas last year he gave it to me early because he was afraid it wouldn't be compatible with my giant television.
It was made in '97, I swear. It's got stereo and hookups for the old red, yellow and white cables.
I bet you wish you had a TV this cool. Now is your chance.
Look, dammit, if nobody comes and gets this television I'll have to take it downstairs and put it on the damn curb, and that's more work than I want to do right now. The TV works just fine and I watch stuff on it every day. It would look great as a movie prop. It's its own entertainment center because you can just throw everything on top of it, which is what I have done for the past eight years. And did I mention that it's on wheels? Because it's on wheels. Who has a TV on wheels? Well now, you can.
Somebody come and get this goddamn television. I live in Hancock Park and there's plenty of parking in front of my building. Plus I'll give you a free used air filtration thingee or a bag of maybe used, maybe new AAA batteries.
Friday, November 27, 2009
I'm not surprised to see The Road bombing this weekend, but I'm sad to see it. We did our part. Even though I already saw it, The Beefcake and I went over to the Grove to watch it on Thanksgiving. We were originally planning to see John Woo's newest, Red Cliff, but that long a time with subtitles started to sound kind of annoying. We'll Netflix it so we can go the bathroom and get snacks.
First of all, who's the idiot who brought their 3-year-old to see The Road? You should be beaten. Of course he cried all the way through the movie. I'd cry all the way through that movie too if I was three. Fantastic Mr. Fox and as much as I hate to say it Old Dogs were both playing right next door and at the same time.
We're officially moving on Monday, but since I thought I was moving much earlier, I had the satellite cut off Wednesday. Did you know that without a subscription, you can still get Style Network, VS and every channel that sells something. Plus Pay Per View. So we can't get Comedy Central, but we can get Lady Lickers 9.
Last night we were excited to see Bloodsport, but most of the time all that's on is Supernanny. That lady is a genius. I know a couple of people who could use her help.
And did you know that the host of Clean House is one of the officers on Reno 911? I learned this because I was forced to watch Style all day. Clean House is like A&E's Hoarders but with a sassy black lady, a southern bimbo and a gay stylist in place of a therapist and a depressing soundtrack.
I am not a hoarder, but I have a lot of stuff. I have no problem throwing away stuff and I took six bags to Goodwill, but there just seems to be more, you know? I look around and think I'm almost done, and then three hours later it looks like I just started. How does that happen? Where does all the stuff hide while you're living your life? And why do I only have one walkie-talkie?
Anybody want this awesome 26" cabinet TV? I think it's the last one RCA ever made.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Today is all about feeling grateful, so I stopped moping long enough to think about all the things I'm thankful for.
I have a house. I can't move into the house, but I have a house. A lot of incredible people helped make that happen.
I have a great boyfriend in the Beefcake. He's good people and we're good for each other.
My cat is not dead. It was touch and go there for a while, but now it looks like he'll squeeze out a few more happy years and he'll get to play in our new yard. Plus he's the best cat ever. Even the vet said so.
My mom is not dead. She almost was, but she's okay now.
I am healthy and I have a job with good benefits. Sometimes I even love my job.
I get to write screenplays whenever I feel like it. It's fun.
Chocolate. It exists.
Your turn, if you feel like it.
And happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
In any other state in the union we would have gotten the keys to our property last night when we signed the thirty thousand pieces of paper to buy the house. Apparently there is a law in California that says you cannot fund your loan and take possession of your property on the same day. Guess when our loan funds? Today. It's a long weekend. Guess when we can get in our house? Monday. As an added bonus, we get to pay $200 for the privilege of not moving in.
Four day weekend, wasted. Instead we both have to take off work Monday and move everything in one day. Fun times. I'm trying to be positive because I just bought a house in a time when people don't have jobs, but I just feel kind of stressed out right now.
Since my tv is set to cut off today and I've already packed the DVD player and I pretty much already packed everything else, that gives me four days to clean, grade papers and work on my screenplay. And since everybody else left town, it should be pretty quiet around here. Maybe now is the time when I will have some genius inspiration that will set my career on fire.
Still, right now I'd rather be unpacking boxes in my new house.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I'm in the middle of what one would call a clusterfuck.
We rushed like crazy to get our paperwork done for the house so we could close before Thanksgiving. I mean we busted our asses as did our agent and our mortgage broker, and got everything in under the deadline.
Then someone at the title company decided to pick our file at random to audit.
We were supposed to move in Saturday. Then today. Now, best case scenario, the sellers agree to let us have access to the house starting Wednesday. Worst case scenario, we get in the house Monday, which is November 30 and the last day I can be in my apartment, but we still have to wait until whatever time the bank officially does their loan thing. Except we still get to pay interest on the four days we can't get in the house.
I would like to personally thank Bank of America, who kept us waiting an hour and a half the other day to do something that in the end took them 10 minutes to do, and by the time it was finished we had passed a deadline we needed to close Friday. Thank you, guy who told us he'd be right back then went to get lunch. I needed this added stress so that you could get your Koo Koo Roo ten minutes earlier.
Excuse me while I scream.
Monday, November 23, 2009
I just thought of something just now while I was typing out a response to a Done Deal post.
Twilight is a knight's tale.
This is an old story. Ever read The Canterbury Tales? Don Quixote? The myriad of knightly tales Cervantes made fun of in Don Quixote?
I'm talking about courtly love.
If you ever want to roll your eyes out of your head, read A Knight's Tale, the first tale in The Canterbury Tales. It's all about two best friends who fall in love with a woman at first sight and fight over her while she has no idea either man even exists. It's all about that hero who fights for the beautiful, unattainable woman. They call it courtly love.
That skinny emo vampire dude is a modern knight. He's strong and good looking and would sacrifice his life for the beautiful, unattainable girl he loves. He can never truly have her, but he'll do anything for her.
The girl is the modern day princess. She's on a pedestal. She's got some mystical beauty, some special element that makes her superior to all other women, and often the knight - in this case a vampire or a werewolf - falls in love with her immediately. The old knight's stories of courtly love were all about the man falling for the woman just by seeing her beautiful face. Doesn't that emo vampire love that wistful emo girl because she looks like somebody from his past or something? That's what I got from the previews. Then he sets out to protect her. He even has to sacrifice and leave her because he loves her so much. That's perfectly in line with the old knight story where he travels the world in her name, but can never have more than a handkerchief or a kiss from the woman he adores.
So it's not a new thing. It's a very, very old thing, and clearly it's still relevant. So in case you were wondering why teenagers love this stuff - teenagers have always loved this stuff. Teenagers are still naive enough to think this is what love is. They love the idea of pure love - it's the same reason they love Romeo and Juliet. It's that idea that when you love someone, fireworks explode and the universe spins in a new direction.
They don't realize that true love is your boyfriend gleefully showing you the massive shit he just dropped in the toilet.
Friday, November 20, 2009
My cat is home from the hospital and today I am supposed to buy a house so I was really excited all morning, then lunch time came and the union meeting.
Over the next two years, California's education budget is slated to be short by a billion dollars. That's BILLION. With a B.
That means probably more teacher layoffs, maybe furlough days, cutting programs left and right. Maybe no more music, art, yearbook. Probably no more textbooks. We already cut out board cleaner and tissues. We've never had markers or construction paper. I'm about to run out of giant chart paper and then there will be no more. Classes will get bigger - one of my classes already has 39 kids in it, but now elementary school classes will probably go up to 30 kids per teacher. Can you imagine 30 little kids to one poor, overworked teacher?
This is where we are headed. It's a gloomy outlook.
I honestly don't know what's going to happen or what we can do. Did I mention that I just bought a house? And they're laying off more teachers? One of my friends is getting married in a few months. She's rethinking her honeymoon because she doesn't know if she'll have a job.
But beyond just me and my friends, the kids are going to suffer from this. We've been struggling for years to get them up to grade level, but now we might as well be babysitters for all the work we'll be able to do. We'll keep trying, but it just seems like the state has resigned itself to an uneducated youth. Except the private school kids. They'll still get educated just fine. Our poor Mexican kids? Fuck 'em, right? They'll never know what they're missing.
I started out today really excited about the future. Now I'm not so sure.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
It's parent teacher night once again, and I generally go through long blocks of time where nobody shows up. I'm supposed to be grading papers, but I'd much rather watch movies. I just got done watching Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. That's a damn fine film.
I have to do something to distract me from the fact that I am right above the band room and some beginning band kid has been practicing his horn for the past half hour.
So anyway, when the movie ended I searched the instant viewing on Netflix because I only had an hour left and that's not nearly enough time to watch a whole movie. I tried checking out the Showtime series Brotherhood but I got like 10 minutes before I was so bored I almost shot myself.
Now I'm watching the MST3K episode Werewolf. I just keep thinking about the genius this show is. Just pure genius. I wonder, did people watch movies like this before and these guys made a show about it, or do we watch movies like this now because the show taught us that it was okay? Because one of my favorite pastimes is watching a shitty movie and make fun of it. The other night The Beefcake and I put on The Blue Lagoon for that very purpose.
When I was in high school I used to rush home from work during the summer to plop down on the floor in the family room to watch the show with my stepdad. It was one of our few treasured bonding moments. My mom never did understand what the hell the show's appeal was.
A minute ago a student and his mom walked by right as I let out a loud guffaw at some comment Tom Servo made. I thought it would be appropriate to remind everybody how awesome Mystery Science Theater 3000 was, just in case you forgot.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
So as many of you guys already know, Carson picked his top ten loglines.
In case you haven't heard about this yet, Scriptshadow, the guy who reviews a screenplay a day and who's blog you should be reading if you are serious about the craft, put up a contest to select a good screenplay from among his readers. First, you submit your logline and he picks 10 he'd like to read. Then, you submit your first ten pages or a one-page synopsis and he picks 25 of those he'd like to read. Then you submit your whole screenplay and he picks his top three.
Guess whose logline he picked in his top 100? Memememe!
Here is my logline:
Twenty years after the zombie apocalypse wipes out life as they know it, a pair of survivors learns they are not alone, and must fix their issues to protect their warrior children on a dangerous journey by boat to save a woman who may be the key to reviving humanity.
Now here's the thing. I know I don't have the world's most original idea. It's not a high concept script by any means, and up next to all those other loglines it looks really boring.
Take this logline for a script by Josh Eanes called Humans!:
In a world populated by sentient zombies, an outbreak of humans threatens the lives of two ordinary zombie youths, as does an increasingly chaotic military response.
Or this one, by Mike Rinaldi titled In the Heat of the Dead of Night:
A Southern town divided by racism, intolerance, and William Faulkner must come together to survive an invasion of the walking dead and the only man who can unite them is a compulsive necrophiliac.
My heart kind of sunk when I saw those because let's face it, they're more clever than mine. I want to read them. I want to see them on screen.
So that brings up the old discussion about concept vs execution. These two scripts are terrific concepts that announce their potential up front. Mine is a story not unlike some we've seen. So when Carson reads our scripts, I'm curious to see how strongly the idea figures into his decision. It could very well be that all three zombie scripts are strong, but let's say one is not - will the idea save it? I don't know. I'm interested to find out.
I'm not sure I stand much of a chance anyway, since I just discovered that the screenplay I consider the best I ever read, Tonight, He Comes, is one Carson thinks is stupid.
Still, it's a cool exercise and I'm sort of amazed that Carson has taken all this work on himself. I'm also pleased to see not only a pro you probably know already - William Martell - in the list, but also a 19-year-old writer. It doesn't matter who you are, an idea's an idea, and all ideas are welcome. It's going to be pretty neat to see the development of where the clever ideas leave off and the great scripts take over.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Remember the last season of The Shield? I recorded the whole thing on my DVR and never watched it. It's been sitting there for about a year. Well next week I'll be mailing my DVR back to Dishnetwork so I can move to North Hollywood, so I decided that now was the time to plough through the last season. I think the reason I didn't before is that I knew I was gonna need to concentrate, and it was gonna be depressing.
But watching the show again after all this time has made me think about the deeply flawed protagonist - when he works, and when he doesn't. I don't want to say unlikeable protagonist because Vic is likeable as hell. He's also hateable as hell. That's what makes him so great.
As Vic descends further and further into the chaos he created, you know he won't climb out. There's only one end to this man, but somehow you still hope he'll get away with it. Unless you think about Terry Crowly, the cop Vic shot in the first episode. The minute he did that, you knew this was all headed in one direction.
So it's not like you think Vic is a good man, but you still understand his motivation. You see how the first few bad decisions were made with the right intentions, and everything just spiraled out of control. You want him desperately to stop before it's too late. And then the Armenian money train thing happened, and, well, too late. Now we just watch the fallout.
It reminds me of Sweeny Todd. You spend the whole film knowing he's not going to stop killing people, but you kind of wish he would. You feel his pain and somehow that makes him sympathetic instead of hated.
Then you get House. I've started to dislike House lately because he ever since he got off his meds he seems even meaner than before. I think the problem has become that before, you could see every time he popped a pill that he was trying to avoid the pain of being him, but ever since he stopped the medication he has no excuse. Or maybe I don't like him because this last episode (SPOILER WARNING) Cameron gave up on him. Cameron is so nice she has always believed in him, so if she doesn't, I don't. Maybe it's a combination of events, but really I think it just boils down to the fact that House has stopped having any redeeming qualities. He seems to be less concerned with the medicine and more concerned with fucking with people.
See, I think as long as Vic Mackie is nice to somebody - his wife, his fellow strike team members, his hooker contacts - you see that he is still not a horrible person, but the second you make him hateful to every single person, which is what House seems to be doing, you lose the love of the audience.
I almost don't want to watch House anymore because I can't stand watching how mean he is to everyone, but I'm glad I went back to those Shield episodes because Vic stays intriguing all the way through. You love him then you hate him then you love him again. But you definitely want to keep watching.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Saturday night at a gathering a friend of mine said, "Hey let's all go see Fantastic Mr Fox tomorrow!"
Of course I was down. I still have my well worn copy of the old book I used to read obsessively when I was a child, I read and loved the screenplay, and there is pretty much nothing Wes Anderson can do that I won't love him for. The man makes perfect little films that I just adore. A. Dore.
So of course I went to see Fantastic Mr. Fox. And this review is most likely biased because I was sort of predisposed to enjoying it.
So friend texts me that we'll all see it at the Arclight at 4:50. As many of you know, the Arclight is assigned seating, so normal protocol calls for the group to meet there a little before the movie, buy your tickets together, then go right in. This time, however, my friend texted that they had already bought their tickets online. So I had to go online, become a member of the Arclight, and order my $15.50 ticket with one unknown person sitting between me and the other five people in the group.
Then about half an hour before the start of the film I get a text: "Oops! Mike had to change his flight so the movie is canceled!"
On the upside, I got five seats to myself.
If you like Wes Anderson you'll like this film. If you don't, you probably won't. It's pretty much that simple. He and Noah Baumbach took a short story about a snide, clever fox and turned it into a tale about family and courage and rabid dogs who like blueberries. It's cute as hell.
To me, it gets off to a bit of an awkward start because the animation they used is unusual. I've never really seen anything quite like it, but once you get used to the visuals the story really moves along. It's fast paced, clever, and filled with delightful little jokes that make you chuckle. That's Wes Anderson's style. He doesn't make you laugh hysterically, he makes you chuckle. I probably had a smile on my face the whole movie.
Just like the book was well aware that many of its readers are adults, the film makes that same acknowledgment. The studio didn't make them take out the description of how perfect and alcoholic the cider is that they steal from the apple farmer, and they replaced the word "fuck" with the word "cuss" so frequently they may as well be tossing around F bombs left and right. And you know, using the word "cuss" is actually better because it makes the moment more comedic.
There's also all these unexpected little moments where in the middle of a dignified speech or action where everyone's wearing three-piece suits and speaking eloquently, we are reminded of their status as wild animals because they'll suddenly get comedically violent.
Pretty much everything that jumped out at me as a problem in the screenplay has been fixed. This is a delightful, fun film that will no doubt rake in the dollars at the old B.O. Thanksgiving weekend. As well it should.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
A friend of mine started a new website of articles contributed by various interesting writers. I've been watching it for a week or so, and I've decided it's worth checking out. Might be worth reading when you're bored and looking for something to think about.
I've already contributed my own piece: Cyrano is sick.
I've already contributed my own piece: Cyrano is sick.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Last night I sat in on the Creative Screenwriting screening of The Road.
For the record, if there are three film screenings going on at the same time at your theater, you should probably warn people so they don't spend two hours looking for parking.
Also, if half your theater is reserved for VIPs, you have too many VIPs.
So anyway, there was a movie. I've never read the book; it was one of those I've had on my list for years but never got around to, but I brought Best Friend, who adores the book and has frequently recommended it to me.
Best Friend was concerned going in and almost didn't want to watch the movie because she was afraid of what they would do to it. The joy of reading Cormac McCarthy, she said, is in his style. In a film you'll either lose his beautiful prose or you'll end up with two hours of voice over.
The writer, Joe Penhall, and the director, John Hillcoat who also directed The Proposition, went in completely aware of that problem. They said in the Q&A that they decided to ignore the beauty of his prose because otherwise it could become a crutch. So instead of a film full of voice overs, they only kept a few short and significant moments when The Man, played by Viggo Mortensen, expressed his feelings directly. This way, those moments meant something. And it worked.
It made me think about the horrible piece of carrion that is Lions for Lambs. That film was 88 boring minutes of talking heads. In the Q&A for that film the writer, Matthew Michael Carnahan, admitted he originally started it as a play, and when he went to turn it into a screenplay he decided he didn't want to change anything. But it's not a play. It's a film. The rules are different, and by ignoring them, he created the most boring movie I've ever seen.
Yes, it's even more boring than 2001.
But The Road, on the other hand, deftly navigated that pitfall. They took the core of the novel and put it on screen perfectly, leaving out the redundancies and speeding up the pace, which is exactly what you do in a novel adaptation. Best Friend was pleased.
This is a story about a father and son surviving the end of the world. It's not about the end of the world, it's about the unbreakable bond between two men who only have each other. Small story, big world. It would be easy to lose focus and focus on explosions and spectacle, but this story is so much better than that. 2012 can have its explosions, this film is about people and what we become when law disappears and we have to choose. Are we good guys or bad guys?
It's absolutely beautiful. Normally on the way out of the theater I deconstruct what I just saw and try to figure out where the weaknesses were in the film. This time, I got nothin. I think The Road is an example of a film crafted by men who love and understand the story as if they had lived it. Every beat is an emotional journey.
Plus the casting is awesome. Is there anything Garret Dillahunt is not currently in?
It's not a laugh riot, to be sure, which is why the Thanksgiving release date might hurt its performance, but The Road is well worth seeing, if for no other reason than to demonstrate how a story should be told.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Mystery Man recently link this article on why McKee is not worth the ridiculous price he charges. I've been thinking about it since I read it.
I like sitting in on seminars with good teachers. The times I went to Expo I got some great ideas from some of the classes I took, and of course I believe a good teacher can make a huge difference in your education on any subject.
That said, I've never trusted gurus. I think the big problem here is the same problem you always have with teaching art - it's completely subjective. One of the first things I say on the first day of a new class is "I am not here to teach you to write like me. I'm here to teach you to figure out how you write." There is no such thing as a one-size-fits-all writing method.
Sure, I read Syd Field just like everybody else. I think all new writers need some kind of format to start with, just like a kid who's never written an essay needs to be introduced to the five-paragraph format. But at some point in every kid's education they need to upgrade from five paragraph to something more fluid, just like all writers need to learn to adapt their screenplays to their personal style. The problem in both cases is that teachers often get so caught up in the rules for beginners that they forget to allow for growth and creativity. And this is a creative business.
I've never read McKee. By the time I began writing screenplays I already had a masters degree in creative writing, so I'd read just about all the storytelling textbooks I can handle. And lord knows I'd never tell anyone to avoid using one of those guys - there are certainly people who swear by McKee, Field and Snyder. I was about to say you shouldn't pay $600 for a weekend seminar, but then I thought about how much my year-and-a-half in grad school cost me and, well I can't really talk, can I? I don't regret going for the second degree. However, I do believe that any teacher who refuses to take questions is not a teacher I want to learn from.
But I do admit I've learned more about storytelling as a teacher and from blog posts and articles and just writing screenplays than I did in school.
So I suppose I think new writers should listen to McKee if they feel they're getting something out of it, but none of these guys are all-knowing. In the end you have to be able to trust your own instinct and listen to your own voice.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
I am drowning in paperwork and red tape and bullshit, so I will turn over today's post to The Bitter Script Reader, whose post, "The Worst Query Submission I Have Ever Had to Read" is a must-read for all new screenwriters. Don't be that guy.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Curious to see why Wolverine: X Men Origins was so horrible, I jumped it ahead in my queue - Ahead of Wasabi even. I knew what would happen, but I did it anyway.
Why do we do this to ourselves? Okay maybe you don't, but I do. I keep watching these movies I know are going to suck ass. Hell my finger lingered over adding Tranformers 2 to my queue yesterday. Am I on crack? Maybe.
Wolverine really is about the WHYs.
Why can't Wolverine's brother Victor, who appears to have the same power as he does, be the one who gets the adamantium skeleton?
Why are they trying to kill Wolverine if he's their big new weapon?
Why didn't Stryker lock Logan up the same way he locked up everybody else?
Why did Victor kill those other mutants instead of capturing them like he did some of the mutants?
Why does Gambit sound like a midwestern frat boy?
Why is Gambit even in this movie?
How does Victor always know where Logan is?
Why was the blob not a blob until late in life?
Why does Victor wait six years before coming after his former team mates?
Why did a studio hand over its tent pole film to a director with a history of making shitty B movies and Stargate SG1 episodes?
Friday, November 06, 2009
For the past couple of seasons, Supernatural - the only show that makes the CW worth not obliterating - has been super serious. When they started, the show had this serious plot but with lots of comedic elements thrown in, mostly due to the comedy stylings of the perfect specimen of a man that is Jensen Ackles.
But a couple of seasons ago they sent his Dean to Hell and he's been kind of pissy ever since, and then there was Sam turning into some kind of demon vampire and then the end of the world came and nobody was really laughing.
The past few episodes, however, the writers have gone back to funner times. This week's episode in particular made me giddy.
The premise, if you didn't see it, was that Sam and Dean were trapped in one television show after the next, starting with Dr Sexy, MD.
It was Gray's Anatomy. It was so much Gray's Anatomy that I'm not even sure it counts as a parody because it was so dead on. Everybody was fucking everybody else, a ridiculously sentimental soundtrack swelled, and people described these absurd surgeries for even more absurd conditions. I only wish they could have found a way to reference the fact that the guy playing the ghost character on Gray's Anatomy was also their dad.
They ended by poking fun at CSI: Miami, which of course meant they both did the David Caruso like five times. It was some excellent David Carusoing.
So if you love TV and parodies of TV like I do, go over to Hulu or Itunes or maybe the CW if it's there and watch last night's Supernatural. It was just so damned delightful I could have pinched myself.
Kudos, everyone involved, on a job well done.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Warning: No real spoilers ahead unless you never finished season 2 of Alias.
Today I was reading stuff online and clicked on a link for a discussion about Ultimate Fighter. It should come as no surprise that I LOVE Ultimate Fighter, but I can't usually watch it until Thursday or Friday because I refuse to watch it without The Beefcake. Then today I forgot I hadn't watched the most recent episode and the very first sentence of the link I clicked gave me the winner. I cried out and closed the window, but it was too late.
Then again, maybe I can look really smart when we watch the show by pretending to guess what's about to happen.
Anyhow, it's just so interesting to me the sense of dismay you get when you get spoiled on the ending of any story. Today I started All Quiet on the Western Front with my 10th graders and one kid flipped to the end of the book and found out the fate of our narrator. I immediately fretted that he would reveal the ending to the rest of the class. Hell I probably would have tackled him to the ground to shut him up. Fortunately he kept his mouth shut, and the rest of the students resisted the urge to look at the ending first.
And yet when I was a kid, I always read the last page before I finished the book because I was too impatient to find out what was going to happen.
That's funny, right? It's such an interesting element of the human personality that we hate knowing the ending. We want that journey in a linear fashion, we want to earn the reveal at the end. A book almost isn't worth reading if you already know what happens.
But then you look at the latest trend in TV storytelling, one popularized by Alias, where we see a scene from the end before we see how we got there. That works too, sometimes, although often I've wished they just allowed the story to flow in chronological order so I didn't know what was coming.
Except I did love that shit when they did it on Alias, I guess because the scene they spoiled made me more curious instead of disappointed, especially the best episode that show ever had besides the pilot - the one where they brought down SD-6.
I was so into that shit and so excited about finding out what was going to happen, and yet I have that season on DVD and sometimes rewatch that episode even though I know how it's going to end. But then you have a show like Lost, which I also own on DVD and yet never watch because I already know how each episode ends. I don't know why even though I love both shows, I'll rewatch Alias but not Lost.
I just love that about people. We will go to many lengths to avoid spoilers and we get downright pissed if someone doesn't respect that voluntary secrecy, but we also like to rewatch stories we love, even to the point where we have them memorized. It's bizarre.
I don't really have a point, just an observation.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Because I hate myself, I watched Fantastic 4, Rise of the Silver Surfer last night.
There's much wrong with that film and its many flaws have been brought out for all to see, but if I had to pin down the one thing that bothered me the most about the film is that it felt so contrived.
Johnny Storm somehow and for no logical reason whatsoever gains the ability to switch powers with his cohorts. Why? Because somebody thought it would be funny to watch Jessica Alba fly around on fire panicking. And then at the end Johnny uses all their powers at once, which he assumes is possible even though nothing up to that point has suggested that he can have more than one power at once, and in fact he has been losing his power every time he switched.
But okay, let's say this silly thing has to stay. Johnny gets to have everybody's power, not just his own. Know what? Johnny's a cocky asshole. Johnny would not just hand back all the powers when he's done. He'd get so excited he'd struggle at least a little before sacrificing all this power. And I'd much rather watch a hero struggle with desire for power than watch Dr. Doom sneer ineffectively while creating a nuisance.
Instead of having a real conflict within one of your major characters, it seems like somebody decided it would be cool to have a few seconds of Johnny with everybody's powers at once and contrived a story to make it happen.
But the truth is, it IS a cool idea. There are things you can do to make it an awesome story, none of which was done here.
For example, while Johnny's fucking around with this new thing he can do, The Thing - Ben - grabs Johnny and switches with him for a few seconds, during which time he jokes and giggles.
Granted, they played with this in the first film, but they didn't go far enough. Here's a guy who can't live a normal life. He can't go anywhere without being stared at, can't fit in normal sized airplane seats, can't wear normal sized clothes, will never ever fit in again. You know he has to dream about being normal; anybody would.
And for a few seconds he sees his human hands again, then has to give it back to Johnny.
Now I don't know about you, but I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about that. I'd wait until Johnny was asleep, then smack him and fly away on my new flamey rocket feet. He wouldn't mean to do it for long, maybe one night of hot steamy human love with his girlfriend where he can feel her hands on his skin, or a chance to walk among regular people without being stared at. Then he'd have every intention of going back to his life, except maybe by then he didn't want to....
Instead, Ben laughs it off and that's that. Then we get some silly plot about a character with few non-expository lines and his magical surfboard.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: CONFLICT. You have to push your characters to do things you don't want them to do - things THEY don't want them to do. Your characters have to have flaws and you have to exploit them.
If not, you're nothing but brainless entertainment.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
I've got some ideas on how to edit my script, but I won't be touching it for a few weeks. I usually take a break because sometimes distance can give you excellent perspective. Once you've been away from a script for a while you can look at it and say "Jesus what was I thinking?" as you read what you once thought were brilliant exchanges of dialogue.
I'm not going back to my screenplay until I'm doing it in my office. It's a tiny room - a complete square that barely qualifies as more than a closet right between the master bedroom and the guest bedroom and with a lovely view of my neighbor's driveway. But it's my room.
For the past three years I have written screenplays on my laptop in my lap on my couch. I have a desk in my bedroom, but the bed is so close that I can't put a chair in front of the desk so I have to work hunched over and leaning from the bed or standing up. So I worked on the couch. It's not exactly the most ergonomic way to work.
So I'm excited. I get a room where I can put my desk and a chair and my bulletin board of ideas and my inspiration movie posters. Well, poster. I plan to buy another one now that I have a place to put it. I'm thinking Zombieland. It will be easy to get inspired when the poster next to your head tells you to "nut up or shut up."
And I have to paint. I'm thinking a dark blue gray because I like to be at ease when I work and I already have two shirts that color so I can match my walls, and who doesn't want to match their walls?
Know what the best part is? I can shut the door.
Monday, November 02, 2009
I have a sort of challenge to issue anyone who cares to join in.
This month I'm working on The Canterbury Tales with my senior English class. I plan to do the same thing my teacher did with my class - pairs of students choose one tale to perform for the class and analyze. That got me thinking.
Aside from a French version many years ago, IMDB says every version of The Canterbury Tales has been a TV mini-series, the latest in 2003 starring Johnny Lee Miller, Bill Nighy, and Chiwetel Ejiofor among others. Netflix doesn't have this particular one available, which I think is kind of a shame because I like a lot of these actors and would love to see this version myself.
However, the truth remains that there is no real contemporary film interpretation of The Canterbury Tales. I can imagine why. It's split into short pieces with tenuous thematic connections, it has a barely-there plot, and it's unfinished.
Which is why I thought it was a cool challenge. I started thinking of ways I'd approach it, and although I never plan to actually attempt such a feat, I thought it would be interesting to see the different ways you could interpret Chaucer's unfinished masterpiece on film. It's rife with creative possibility.
So here you go. If you had a $90 Million budget and complete creative control along with studio backing and a guaranteed wide release with any cast and director you want, how would you do it? How would you structure this film so that it made sense?