20 February 2010
Short Attention Span
The Oscars are my Super Bowl, it's true. Yesterday, the IFC Center in NY began its screening of the 2010 Oscar Nominated Live Action Shorts, a showcase of all five nominated films from around the world. Here's why shorts are important.
1. Concise writing is good writing. Boiling story down to its core, it’s simple essence. Studying good short films can teach how to find the importance and cut through all the stuff we don’t need in six, twelve, twenty minutes.
13 February 2010
Chekhov's Gun
Anton Chekhov said that anything (object or person) that is introduced must be used later or shouldn’t be there. “One must not put a loaded rifle on the stage if no one is thinking of firing it."
In other words, if you introduce something (character, trait, setting) on the first page, or in the first act, it must carry through to the end. This leads to more complex characters. Watch the first twenty minutes or so of Little Miss Sunshine. Note the character traits, the problems, the people that are mentioned.
In the first five seconds of the film you are introduced to the "theme," a term I hate, but nonetheless find use for. Winners and losers. The shot of the pageant on television. There is a winner and a loser and then, a chubby, be-speckled, six-year old girl, mimicking, frame-by-frame, the postures of a winner.
This theme is pulled through the introduction of the rest of the family. Richard, who is giving a seminar about winners, seems successful, until it's revealed there are five people at the seminar. Frank, suicide, loser. At the hospital, Sheryl reveals, in one line that she and Richard have money issues. Grandpa snorts heroin in the bathroom. The only one who seems to be relatively successful is Dwayne in his introduction. He marks off days on a calendar, indicating some achievement of a goal.
At the dinner table, all are assembled. We hear the name of Stan Grossman, something about a book deal, a concern over money, the fact that Sheryl can't drive stick. We see and hear Richard's emasculation. We learn about Dwayne's desire to be a pilot, his vow of silence, detest for his stepfather. We hear about Frank's heartbreak, anger and suicide attempt, and see his and Dwayne's bond in misery. We see Richard's stubbornness and insensitivity and attempt to exert control. We get the idea that Sheryl is the glue of the family. We hear the name of Larry Sugarman. There are hints at Grandpa's trouble at the retirement home (presumably for what we just saw happen in the bathroom). We understand his relationship with Olive, oh, and there's something about a pageant.
All of these details, these "guns," thrown out on the table and wrapped inside this fierce and quiet familial tension. This, in the first fifteen minutes of the film. Are all of these things dealt with by the end?
In the first five seconds of the film you are introduced to the "theme," a term I hate, but nonetheless find use for. Winners and losers. The shot of the pageant on television. There is a winner and a loser and then, a chubby, be-speckled, six-year old girl, mimicking, frame-by-frame, the postures of a winner.
This theme is pulled through the introduction of the rest of the family. Richard, who is giving a seminar about winners, seems successful, until it's revealed there are five people at the seminar. Frank, suicide, loser. At the hospital, Sheryl reveals, in one line that she and Richard have money issues. Grandpa snorts heroin in the bathroom. The only one who seems to be relatively successful is Dwayne in his introduction. He marks off days on a calendar, indicating some achievement of a goal.
At the dinner table, all are assembled. We hear the name of Stan Grossman, something about a book deal, a concern over money, the fact that Sheryl can't drive stick. We see and hear Richard's emasculation. We learn about Dwayne's desire to be a pilot, his vow of silence, detest for his stepfather. We hear about Frank's heartbreak, anger and suicide attempt, and see his and Dwayne's bond in misery. We see Richard's stubbornness and insensitivity and attempt to exert control. We get the idea that Sheryl is the glue of the family. We hear the name of Larry Sugarman. There are hints at Grandpa's trouble at the retirement home (presumably for what we just saw happen in the bathroom). We understand his relationship with Olive, oh, and there's something about a pageant.
All of these details, these "guns," thrown out on the table and wrapped inside this fierce and quiet familial tension. This, in the first fifteen minutes of the film. Are all of these things dealt with by the end?
I find that this is one of the most helpful things to remember and can come in handy when you are stuck at the ending. Go back to the beginning. Based on what you laid out, what needs to be present and/or change at the end? Did you deal adequately with what was there in the first few scenes?
Be sure you did, (or can make a decent argument for why you don't have to) or else. You'll have to answer to that guy there in the picture, who will surely strangle that dog if you orphan your details.
Be sure you did, (or can make a decent argument for why you don't have to) or else. You'll have to answer to that guy there in the picture, who will surely strangle that dog if you orphan your details.
07 February 2010
The Super Bowl as directed by...
I don't know what's with all the style parodies lately, but I'm enjoying it. Here is one from Slate. I especially like Godard, Herzog and Anderson!
06 February 2010
Eight basic rules.
Kurt Vonnegut wrote some of the most unforgettable novels that blend satire, literary fiction and sci-fi in a relatable, humorous, and human way. These eight basic rules of creative writing are from the foreword to his short story collection Bagombo Snuff Box.
1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence [line of dialogue, bit of action] must do one of two things—reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them—in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.
The greatest American short story writer of my generation was Flannery O’Connor (1925-1964). She broke practically every one of my rules but the first. Great writers tend to do that.
While these are rules for short stories, they are really helpful to keep in mind for all storytelling. I give these rules to my beginning screenwriting student on the first day of class. Nos. 3, 5, and 6 are the most important to keep in mind, and are three things my students should measure their scripts and the scripts of their peers by.
Also, check out this: 15 Things Kurt Vonnegut Said Better Than Anyone Else Ever Has Or Will. Great inspiration to use as prompts for freewriting.
05 February 2010
What if Wes Anderson directed everything?
What if Wes Anderson directed "Spider Man?" Jason Schwartzman as Peter Parker makes a lot of sense. And the actor who plays Owen Wilson playing Harry Osborn is better than Owen Wilson himself (and I'd like to challenge him to take on Luke and his pathetic, false AT&T commercials.)
What if Wes Anderson directed other movies that lack a soul? And by soul, I mean tone and style and focus on character within their world and within the explicit conflict. Spider Man is the perfect example of a movie which lacks these elements.
Last week, amid the rumors that Anderson might actually do the next Spidey filck, my husband, a comic book aficionado, and I were talking about the short comings of Raimi's Spider Man. This is what we do. Also, my husband is credited with imparting this and all comic book knowledge upon me, knowledge I've learned over the eleven years we've known each other. (Last year, I went to Comic Con New York, and liked it.)
Anyway, with Spider Man, you have a character not unlike Rushmore's Max Fischer, a character I find to be complex and endearing, who struggles, makes bad choices, suffers, and changes. Max is a writer, a smart, prep-school loner. Peter Parker is a photographer, also a smart loner. Parker's an orphan. Max's mom died. Both are constantly bullied, Peter by Flash Thompson, Max by Magnus. Max is an overall awkward teen who falls in love with a teacher at his school and befriends the father of two of his classmates. Peter is an overall awkward teenager who one day, gets bit by a radioactive spider at a nerdy science demonstation. But the Spider Man movie forgets all of this.
Spider Man is the story of the average, nerdy, teen boy bestowed with super abilities he didn't ask for. But the movie drops these interesting aspects of Peter's character and focuses just on the surface conflict, the action for action's sake: the Green Goblin, Mary Jane in peril, the Roosevelt Island Tramcar full of kids. All super-exciting, right? Did you ever once think he wasn't going to succeed? No, you didn't.
And maybe it's because Peter has no character after the first half of the first act. It's not until the very end: the whole with great power, comes great responsibility-voice-over from dead uncle- walking away- last shot are we reminded of Peter, the boy who didn't ask for this power, the boy who lost his parents and his uncle, the nerdy boy who got bit by a freakin' radioactive spooked spider, a very symbol of geekdom. He's not a super hero. He's a nerd, a sweet, endearing and complex character.
Yes, he saved the day, and there was tragedy, people died, friends were lost, but we've forgotten who this kid is and/or was. All of the complexities introduced in the first act is not pulled through to the end. (Subsequently, this film breaks a rule of storytelling that I'm a big fan of: the gun on the table, or the rifle on the stage.)
It's a scenario that is perfect for the Anderson (Jonze or Gondry for that matter) touch. Did you think Max might not get that aquarium built? Did you think he would ever speak to the teacher again? SPeak to Herman, or Dirk? You may say a comic book/action movie is not a Wes Anderson movie however, Michel Gondry, (someone I consider similar in sentimentally as Anderson), is bringing us The Green Hornet.
So, what movies would benefit from an Anderson makeover and work as a Wes Anderson film??
What if Wes Anderson directed other movies that lack a soul? And by soul, I mean tone and style and focus on character within their world and within the explicit conflict. Spider Man is the perfect example of a movie which lacks these elements.
Last week, amid the rumors that Anderson might actually do the next Spidey filck, my husband, a comic book aficionado, and I were talking about the short comings of Raimi's Spider Man. This is what we do. Also, my husband is credited with imparting this and all comic book knowledge upon me, knowledge I've learned over the eleven years we've known each other. (Last year, I went to Comic Con New York, and liked it.)
Anyway, with Spider Man, you have a character not unlike Rushmore's Max Fischer, a character I find to be complex and endearing, who struggles, makes bad choices, suffers, and changes. Max is a writer, a smart, prep-school loner. Peter Parker is a photographer, also a smart loner. Parker's an orphan. Max's mom died. Both are constantly bullied, Peter by Flash Thompson, Max by Magnus. Max is an overall awkward teen who falls in love with a teacher at his school and befriends the father of two of his classmates. Peter is an overall awkward teenager who one day, gets bit by a radioactive spider at a nerdy science demonstation. But the Spider Man movie forgets all of this.
Flash Thompson and Magnus Buchan. Bullies.
Spider Man is the story of the average, nerdy, teen boy bestowed with super abilities he didn't ask for. But the movie drops these interesting aspects of Peter's character and focuses just on the surface conflict, the action for action's sake: the Green Goblin, Mary Jane in peril, the Roosevelt Island Tramcar full of kids. All super-exciting, right? Did you ever once think he wasn't going to succeed? No, you didn't.
And maybe it's because Peter has no character after the first half of the first act. It's not until the very end: the whole with great power, comes great responsibility-voice-over from dead uncle- walking away- last shot are we reminded of Peter, the boy who didn't ask for this power, the boy who lost his parents and his uncle, the nerdy boy who got bit by a freakin' radioactive spooked spider, a very symbol of geekdom. He's not a super hero. He's a nerd, a sweet, endearing and complex character.
Yes, he saved the day, and there was tragedy, people died, friends were lost, but we've forgotten who this kid is and/or was. All of the complexities introduced in the first act is not pulled through to the end. (Subsequently, this film breaks a rule of storytelling that I'm a big fan of: the gun on the table, or the rifle on the stage.)
Parker's hang-ups, baggage, years of bullying can't just disappear. His awkwardness needs to be present throughout, changing gradually, so by the time we see the hardened guy he becomes at the end, we buy it and it's even more effective. Think about Max Fischer, how he changed, and how his personality and baggage were present throughout making the last shot of that film so much more.
"One must not put a loaded rifle on the stage if no one is thinking of firing it."
- Anton Chekhov
"I don't give a shit about the barracudas. Fuck it! I'm building it anyway."
It's a scenario that is perfect for the Anderson (Jonze or Gondry for that matter) touch. Did you think Max might not get that aquarium built? Did you think he would ever speak to the teacher again? SPeak to Herman, or Dirk? You may say a comic book/action movie is not a Wes Anderson movie however, Michel Gondry, (someone I consider similar in sentimentally as Anderson), is bringing us The Green Hornet.
So, what movies would benefit from an Anderson makeover and work as a Wes Anderson film??
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