Friday, May 27, 2005
Hey, we marched forward a little.
Update to below -- the House defeated the possibly crippling "limit on women in combat units" bill. Credit where credit is due. (via the always excellent Intel Dump)
Lessons Learned #234 - Danish Porn
When a friend asks your wife and you to watch a Danish movie that's intermittently hard-core porn to help out with her figuring how to market it on DVD ...
... say no.
Actual conversation:
"God, that room-mate character -- she's HIDEOUS! Fifty-year old women with bad nose jobs and collagen lips should not be doing -- AGGGHHH!"
"SWEET GOD! Is that her idea of sexy, advancing on his crotch with her eyes rolled back and tongue gaping out off her unhinged maw --"
"Seriously. In the fucked-up Japanese anime version of this film, she would be a sexy Japanese girl, but then she'd lift her skirt to reveal that face flicking her tongue out at you."
"You could sell that movie in Japan."
"I could build an industry on that movie in Japan."
... say no.
Actual conversation:
"God, that room-mate character -- she's HIDEOUS! Fifty-year old women with bad nose jobs and collagen lips should not be doing -- AGGGHHH!"
"SWEET GOD! Is that her idea of sexy, advancing on his crotch with her eyes rolled back and tongue gaping out off her unhinged maw --"
"Seriously. In the fucked-up Japanese anime version of this film, she would be a sexy Japanese girl, but then she'd lift her skirt to reveal that face flicking her tongue out at you."
"You could sell that movie in Japan."
"I could build an industry on that movie in Japan."
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Lost Finale
-- SPOILERS --
First, the praise:
-- bonus carry-over from last week:"black rock" reveal. Whizza.
-- Subtle Rousseau clue that they were focusing on the wrong boy.
-- Statue reveal on Charlie
-- Michael's secret sin
-- *GURK* "Do not. Hit me. Again."
-- the realization that if the show now just became Michael, Jin, and Sawyer on Vengeance Road looking for the kid, I'd watch every episode twice. I don't care how gay that makes me. Twice.
But all in all, that ...
... that ...
.. was not what I was hoping for.
On one hand, shortly after I wrote this, I got a quick e-mail from one of the show creators saying "Hilarious! You will see this addressed soon!" So the whole "you six people clique" was amusing.
Again, this is all from loving the show. But to borrow from our Jargon Preservation Project, there was an awful lot of "up and back".
Huge chunks of flashback, with little or no new information -- the only bit being the revelation of "devoted Dad" Michael's secret sin ... no new info in Charlie's, Locke's, Hurley's (except the comic being his, but was that worth five minutes?*), and you could say maybe Jin gave you at least a variant on his info.
We already knew that Locke and Jack had different views of the island. They've had this almost exact same speech before, in a slightly different context. Although I have to say, Jack might have been a little more open to the whole "This island is hinky" speech after seeing the Giant Snatching Black Cloud of Doom. He's approaching a Second-season Scully Blindspot here.
If you didn't see the science teacher thing coming, well ... you don't watch a lot of TV.
The greatest moment was, of course, "We have to take your boy". My wife was freaking, and it was magnificent -- although I guessed it from the French Chick comment earlier when she said the Others were "coming for the boy." I was thinking -- "Now hoo-haw, THAT'S a GODDAM CLIFFHANGER!" Then I remembered that they needed to blow up the hatch. How do you beat THAT?
You don't.
You know they're going to open the hatch. There's no suspense. As a viewer, you know it's the season finale, you know they've been harping on trying to open the hatch for close to ten episodes, any suspense beats on whether they're going to open the hatch are wasted beats. So the payoff for the cliffhanger has to be, what'll we see IN the hatch?
A ladder? You mean, the hatch has some way of traversing within and without it? Oh sweet MOTHER OF GOD !! And it goes really far down? Not so far down as to be deeper than, say an ordinary parking garage's ventilation shaft , but DOWN? AAAAAGHHHH!
Feh. I didn't want to see everything. I didn't want to see the Control Room with the Brain-puter and the floating brains in jars full of diet ginger ale. I'm fully aware, those who-loved-it-and-think-we're-being-grumpy-pants, that you need to leave some mysteries for next season. You don't find Mulder's sister in Season One (on the other hand, you don't make mulder's sister an ascended spirit-girl, either. Fuckers.).
But I think that if all three hours of Exodus were compressed into one, I would've been lying on the floor in a puddle. I firmly believe the writers struggled valiantly against network-order bloat, but in the end were defeated.
This is a tricky moment for the show -- genre shows create rabid audiences, but once you lose them, they don't just go away -- they frikkin' turn.
I look forward to second season, but I hope they're working on the bible even as we speak.
*there is a theory that this was to show Hurley wasn't supposed to get on the plane -- he was the only one the numbers/island were trying to stop from coming. If so this flashback is fair game. But personally I wouldn't spend five mintues laying obtuse pipe in my cliffhanger finale.
First, the praise:
-- bonus carry-over from last week:"black rock" reveal. Whizza.
-- Subtle Rousseau clue that they were focusing on the wrong boy.
-- Statue reveal on Charlie
-- Michael's secret sin
-- *GURK* "Do not. Hit me. Again."
-- the realization that if the show now just became Michael, Jin, and Sawyer on Vengeance Road looking for the kid, I'd watch every episode twice. I don't care how gay that makes me. Twice.
But all in all, that ...
... that ...
.. was not what I was hoping for.
On one hand, shortly after I wrote this, I got a quick e-mail from one of the show creators saying "Hilarious! You will see this addressed soon!" So the whole "you six people clique" was amusing.
Again, this is all from loving the show. But to borrow from our Jargon Preservation Project, there was an awful lot of "up and back".
Huge chunks of flashback, with little or no new information -- the only bit being the revelation of "devoted Dad" Michael's secret sin ... no new info in Charlie's, Locke's, Hurley's (except the comic being his, but was that worth five minutes?*), and you could say maybe Jin gave you at least a variant on his info.
We already knew that Locke and Jack had different views of the island. They've had this almost exact same speech before, in a slightly different context. Although I have to say, Jack might have been a little more open to the whole "This island is hinky" speech after seeing the Giant Snatching Black Cloud of Doom. He's approaching a Second-season Scully Blindspot here.
If you didn't see the science teacher thing coming, well ... you don't watch a lot of TV.
The greatest moment was, of course, "We have to take your boy". My wife was freaking, and it was magnificent -- although I guessed it from the French Chick comment earlier when she said the Others were "coming for the boy." I was thinking -- "Now hoo-haw, THAT'S a GODDAM CLIFFHANGER!" Then I remembered that they needed to blow up the hatch. How do you beat THAT?
You don't.
You know they're going to open the hatch. There's no suspense. As a viewer, you know it's the season finale, you know they've been harping on trying to open the hatch for close to ten episodes, any suspense beats on whether they're going to open the hatch are wasted beats. So the payoff for the cliffhanger has to be, what'll we see IN the hatch?
A ladder? You mean, the hatch has some way of traversing within and without it? Oh sweet MOTHER OF GOD !! And it goes really far down? Not so far down as to be deeper than, say an ordinary parking garage's ventilation shaft , but DOWN? AAAAAGHHHH!
Feh. I didn't want to see everything. I didn't want to see the Control Room with the Brain-puter and the floating brains in jars full of diet ginger ale. I'm fully aware, those who-loved-it-and-think-we're-being-grumpy-pants, that you need to leave some mysteries for next season. You don't find Mulder's sister in Season One (on the other hand, you don't make mulder's sister an ascended spirit-girl, either. Fuckers.).
But I think that if all three hours of Exodus were compressed into one, I would've been lying on the floor in a puddle. I firmly believe the writers struggled valiantly against network-order bloat, but in the end were defeated.
This is a tricky moment for the show -- genre shows create rabid audiences, but once you lose them, they don't just go away -- they frikkin' turn.
I look forward to second season, but I hope they're working on the bible even as we speak.
*there is a theory that this was to show Hurley wasn't supposed to get on the plane -- he was the only one the numbers/island were trying to stop from coming. If so this flashback is fair game. But personally I wouldn't spend five mintues laying obtuse pipe in my cliffhanger finale.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Blogrolling
Adding Groovy Age of Horror to the sidebar, just because it's the perfect example of one of the ways the 'Net allows shared hobbies/psychoses to be promulgated. Adding Vestal Vespa to the "We Link, They Link", along with a blog named after my favorite quote about show business: "Nobody Knows Anything".
In the Moviemaking section, adding an incredibly useful, super-tech site, HD for Indies. Everything you need to know about shooting and editing your project in high-def. As more and more big-time humans shoot on high-def and rave about it, I assure you beginners that this is the tech to learn -- if only to understand your options for when you get to production.
In the Moviemaking section, adding an incredibly useful, super-tech site, HD for Indies. Everything you need to know about shooting and editing your project in high-def. As more and more big-time humans shoot on high-def and rave about it, I assure you beginners that this is the tech to learn -- if only to understand your options for when you get to production.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
For all the LA-based stalkers
This is what I'm doing Saturday:
Enigma, UCLA's science-fiction, fantasy, horror and gaming fan club, is psyched to invite you to be a guest at EnigmaCon 2005, a charity fundraiser to help support WorldTrust.org's efforts to rebuild the villages in Sri Lanka devastated after last year's tsunami (and even more recent earthquake). EnigmaCon combines the forces of academia and fan culture to produce exciting panel discussions, live gaming, and art exhibits all for a great cause.I'm pleased they're psyched, but this does make me worry for them. Anyway, I'll be at the Animation panel at 2:00 and the "Science in Sci Fi" panel at 4:00. The four o'clock will be particularly fun, as Ron Moore will be there. I'm really just going to meet him and tell him how much I dig Galactica. Well, that's a lie, I'm also going to hunt down good RP guilds for WoW and Guild Wars. I almost feel guilty.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Writing: Plot and Story
Our friend Alex over at Complications Ensue is currently entertaining one of the perennial "three-act structure: useful tool or misleading cross-dresser in the bar" discussions. He (as do many guys in both TV and the action movie world) goes for the "sequence" model, while I still hew to a modified version of three act structure. This nicely leads into a whackload of questions about plot and breaking stories I've received. (we'll get to that urgent "How to rewrite" question too, this week ...) Everyone's got their own personal thing. Akiva Goldsman's told me he likes the three act 40/40/40 structure. I'd choke on that long a first act, but he's got an Oscar, I don't. Elliot likes thirty two-minute scenes. I tend to structure plot out in three-page sequences over a 25/50/25 three-act story structure ( I always run fat, that low count's my safety net). So frankly, whatever gets you to page 120.
This difference between TV writers and film guys is pretty common, actually. As one of the relatively few guys who flips back and forth I think this is because in film, a plot's something you move your characters through to change them. In TV, generally, your characters inhabit the plot, but don't really change. (this is evolving, but slowly). The goal of TV characters -- and I'm not even going to try to dive into the meta-osity of this -- tends to be to resume the status quo. TV characters may shift attitudes somewhat at the end of an episode, but they are essentially unchanged. Interestingly, if you look at Buffy the Vampire Slayer, you can see that there only only incremental changes at most to the characters in each episode, but the seasons produce radical changes in the personalities and lives of each character. I'd say Joss Whedon created 7 movies over 140-odd sequences. Or 1 long movie over 7 emotional swing points.
In short (too late), I believe TV writers have a fundamentally different relationship with story than film writers do.
Back to the discussion at hand. For the newbies, it's important to understand the difference between plot and story. For probably the thousandth time you've heard it:
A story is what happens. Plot is how it happens.
The story is about your characters. What they do, their changing relationships with each other and their surroundings, the choices they're faced with , the results of those choices and how they play out, all illuminating whatever little inner mystery you're trying to explore.
The horrible overly-used term for the character's journey is called, by various annoying executives who've taken a Bob McKee class, the character arc. There is something valid here, however, to focus on, even though there are subtleties in arc theory*. In a movie, your character starts somewhere, and ends somewhere else. Their emotions and the emotions of the tale change. Tracking that journey, breaking it down -- well, let's state this plainly: Breaking your story is not quite the same thing as breaking your plot. And that seems to be where a lot of you young'uns are getting hung.
Let's examine the story and plot breakdown for The Transformers script I just wrote.
... psych.
Let's look at Alex's example of THE INCREDIBLES (his breakdown, not mine):
/* SPOILERS */
Act One: Mr. Incredible stops all kinds of mayhem. Gets married. Act out: he's sued.
Act Two: Mr. Incredible has miserable ordinary life. Gets in trouble. Act out: Gets fab job offer.
Act Three: Mr. Incredible defeats giant robot. Life is good. Then turns out it's all a setup. Act out: he's nearly killed.
Act Four: Mr. Incredible sneaks into bunker. Act out: Is captured.
Act Five: Mr. Incredible and family fight to defeat Syndrome and destroy his bunker.
Act Six: Mr. Incredible and family fight in the city to defeat Syndrome's robot.
Act Seven: Mr. Incredible and family fight Syndrome and win.
/*end spoilers/
Now, at first glance, that kind of blows the three-act structure out of the water. But the thing is, you're looking at the plot here. The sequence of events which occur around Mr. Incredible's (the family's, actually) story. What complicates matters is that Alex has chosen a movie with essentially a stagger-step, a jump to a new narrative chain in the middle.
If you track Mr. Incredible's story, it's about rejection, isolation, ego, and family. (Here's a fun game to play. Take your favorite movies or unproduced scripts. Say what they're about in one word. It's very interesting.)
Now, I'm not going to go parsing out Brad Bird's genius here. But first, note that the movie is called THE INCREDIBLES, not MR. INCREDIBLE. If you look at Mr. Incredible's relationship with his family and their relationship with each other, and his own internal emotional state, the three act structure's pretty useful.
-- Incredible falls from grace.
-- Incredible is frustrated, angry , unhappy. He feels limited by his obligations to his family. (delineated in really, the only weirdly poor scene of the movie. Mrs. I couldn't be more wantonly bitchy here ...)
-- Incredible gets the opportunity to change his life.
transition:
-- Incredible regains his confidence.
-- Incredible is happy / affects relationship with Mrs. I. (distant from family)
-- Incredible, at the moment of his biggest triumph, discovers this is a false paradise.
transition: (midpoint)
-- Now, ignoring that fact that at this point it's really Mrs. I and the kids' movie, let's keep going. Incredible realizes he misses/needs his family.
-- Incredible learns to work with his family, growing acceptance ...
-- Incredible and his family are now a team.
transition:
-- Incredible's acceptance of his family as team is validated as they succeed in doing what he alone could not.
-- Syndrome at the house is really a weird coda, but it reinforces the same emotional point as the launch into this act, validating the family ethos.
Mr. Incredible moves from frustration to overconfidence to despair to new acceptance. That's the story. The events which bring either motivate these changes or create opportunities for them, that's the plot. You can even see the emotional/relationship change within Alex's own example -- note how in his breakdown, suddenly the phrase "and the family" pops up for second half of the movie. That change is the story right there.
So am I saying that it wouldn't matter what happened to bring Incredible low, or that he could have fought a frikkin' dinosaur instead of a giant robot, or that the plans of the villain were irrelevant? -- hell no. Choosing the cool/appropriate/telling plot points to move your story along is what makes you a good -- or in Brad Bird's case, brilliant -- writer. Melding plot to story, choosing the right plot for your story, sometimes orchestrating your plot so nobody notices the story ... in every way that's the craft.
You'll note I tend to put way, way more emphasis on the midpoint than many people. That's because, for me, it's the tentpole of the second act. I often mock my friend DJ for saying this, but he holds that "The midpoint is where the movie ... becomes an entirely different movie." I have to admit, that wrench is way more useful in the toolbox than I would've thought.
So, if you're stuck, the problem may be that you're tyring to break your plot before you've really structured your story. Try focusing on your story first, in the larger broad strokes of emotional movement, or conflict/obstacle. Then, when you have that working, figure out how the plot works to get you through your story. Just be aware that these are two separate jobs, and that may help you.
Let's say I'm breaking my movie. For example, in my first act, do I need to have introduced every character, every element, every detail ... ? No, I just need to know, by page 28, what everybody's status is, how they feel about it, and promise an interesting change. Complications ensue (heh) from decisions, leading to a big story change/obstacle in the middle, more struggles with obstacles in either heightened or changed emotions, and the in act three, all the decisions come home to roost. Once I've got my story broken, then I can worry about the plot structure and tone appropriate to this particular piece.
Later this week: Nuts and Bolts
*specifically, most executives only consider transformative arcs. There are also revelatory arcs. Almost every big-budget franchise hero (and good villain) has a revelatory arc.
This difference between TV writers and film guys is pretty common, actually. As one of the relatively few guys who flips back and forth I think this is because in film, a plot's something you move your characters through to change them. In TV, generally, your characters inhabit the plot, but don't really change. (this is evolving, but slowly). The goal of TV characters -- and I'm not even going to try to dive into the meta-osity of this -- tends to be to resume the status quo. TV characters may shift attitudes somewhat at the end of an episode, but they are essentially unchanged. Interestingly, if you look at Buffy the Vampire Slayer, you can see that there only only incremental changes at most to the characters in each episode, but the seasons produce radical changes in the personalities and lives of each character. I'd say Joss Whedon created 7 movies over 140-odd sequences. Or 1 long movie over 7 emotional swing points.
In short (too late), I believe TV writers have a fundamentally different relationship with story than film writers do.
Back to the discussion at hand. For the newbies, it's important to understand the difference between plot and story. For probably the thousandth time you've heard it:
A story is what happens. Plot is how it happens.
The story is about your characters. What they do, their changing relationships with each other and their surroundings, the choices they're faced with , the results of those choices and how they play out, all illuminating whatever little inner mystery you're trying to explore.
The horrible overly-used term for the character's journey is called, by various annoying executives who've taken a Bob McKee class, the character arc. There is something valid here, however, to focus on, even though there are subtleties in arc theory*. In a movie, your character starts somewhere, and ends somewhere else. Their emotions and the emotions of the tale change. Tracking that journey, breaking it down -- well, let's state this plainly: Breaking your story is not quite the same thing as breaking your plot. And that seems to be where a lot of you young'uns are getting hung.
Let's examine the story and plot breakdown for The Transformers script I just wrote.
... psych.
Let's look at Alex's example of THE INCREDIBLES (his breakdown, not mine):
/* SPOILERS */
Act One: Mr. Incredible stops all kinds of mayhem. Gets married. Act out: he's sued.
Act Two: Mr. Incredible has miserable ordinary life. Gets in trouble. Act out: Gets fab job offer.
Act Three: Mr. Incredible defeats giant robot. Life is good. Then turns out it's all a setup. Act out: he's nearly killed.
Act Four: Mr. Incredible sneaks into bunker. Act out: Is captured.
Act Five: Mr. Incredible and family fight to defeat Syndrome and destroy his bunker.
Act Six: Mr. Incredible and family fight in the city to defeat Syndrome's robot.
Act Seven: Mr. Incredible and family fight Syndrome and win.
/*end spoilers/
Now, at first glance, that kind of blows the three-act structure out of the water. But the thing is, you're looking at the plot here. The sequence of events which occur around Mr. Incredible's (the family's, actually) story. What complicates matters is that Alex has chosen a movie with essentially a stagger-step, a jump to a new narrative chain in the middle.
If you track Mr. Incredible's story, it's about rejection, isolation, ego, and family. (Here's a fun game to play. Take your favorite movies or unproduced scripts. Say what they're about in one word. It's very interesting.)
Now, I'm not going to go parsing out Brad Bird's genius here. But first, note that the movie is called THE INCREDIBLES, not MR. INCREDIBLE. If you look at Mr. Incredible's relationship with his family and their relationship with each other, and his own internal emotional state, the three act structure's pretty useful.
-- Incredible falls from grace.
-- Incredible is frustrated, angry , unhappy. He feels limited by his obligations to his family. (delineated in really, the only weirdly poor scene of the movie. Mrs. I couldn't be more wantonly bitchy here ...)
-- Incredible gets the opportunity to change his life.
transition:
-- Incredible regains his confidence.
-- Incredible is happy / affects relationship with Mrs. I. (distant from family)
-- Incredible, at the moment of his biggest triumph, discovers this is a false paradise.
transition: (midpoint)
-- Now, ignoring that fact that at this point it's really Mrs. I and the kids' movie, let's keep going. Incredible realizes he misses/needs his family.
-- Incredible learns to work with his family, growing acceptance ...
-- Incredible and his family are now a team.
transition:
-- Incredible's acceptance of his family as team is validated as they succeed in doing what he alone could not.
-- Syndrome at the house is really a weird coda, but it reinforces the same emotional point as the launch into this act, validating the family ethos.
Mr. Incredible moves from frustration to overconfidence to despair to new acceptance. That's the story. The events which bring either motivate these changes or create opportunities for them, that's the plot. You can even see the emotional/relationship change within Alex's own example -- note how in his breakdown, suddenly the phrase "and the family" pops up for second half of the movie. That change is the story right there.
So am I saying that it wouldn't matter what happened to bring Incredible low, or that he could have fought a frikkin' dinosaur instead of a giant robot, or that the plans of the villain were irrelevant? -- hell no. Choosing the cool/appropriate/telling plot points to move your story along is what makes you a good -- or in Brad Bird's case, brilliant -- writer. Melding plot to story, choosing the right plot for your story, sometimes orchestrating your plot so nobody notices the story ... in every way that's the craft.
You'll note I tend to put way, way more emphasis on the midpoint than many people. That's because, for me, it's the tentpole of the second act. I often mock my friend DJ for saying this, but he holds that "The midpoint is where the movie ... becomes an entirely different movie." I have to admit, that wrench is way more useful in the toolbox than I would've thought.
So, if you're stuck, the problem may be that you're tyring to break your plot before you've really structured your story. Try focusing on your story first, in the larger broad strokes of emotional movement, or conflict/obstacle. Then, when you have that working, figure out how the plot works to get you through your story. Just be aware that these are two separate jobs, and that may help you.
Let's say I'm breaking my movie. For example, in my first act, do I need to have introduced every character, every element, every detail ... ? No, I just need to know, by page 28, what everybody's status is, how they feel about it, and promise an interesting change. Complications ensue (heh) from decisions, leading to a big story change/obstacle in the middle, more struggles with obstacles in either heightened or changed emotions, and the in act three, all the decisions come home to roost. Once I've got my story broken, then I can worry about the plot structure and tone appropriate to this particular piece.
Later this week: Nuts and Bolts
*specifically, most executives only consider transformative arcs. There are also revelatory arcs. Almost every big-budget franchise hero (and good villain) has a revelatory arc.
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