Point & Click

Ah, winter. That time of year when staying inside with as many DVDs as your video library memberships will allow would be So Right

Ah well.

(Courtesy of Mr Tripuraneni, The Goddess and I have been ripping through his copy of Battlestar Galactica Season 3. Such focus might be at the expense of the excellent Mad Men but that’s what VCRs are for.)

(And riffing on things television, I’m looking forward to tonight’s premiere of The Jacquie Brown Diaries, from those freakishly talented BunkerMedia boys.)

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The Circle of Life

Ever been at the mercy – or so you think – of someone who can see the Big Picture? You think you can see the Big Picture but you can’t because you’re so close, so intimate, with the material. But you don’t realise this until after you’ve fought whatever battles with that someone – firmly but politely, of course – and you look back and you think, Damn, they were patient with me.

The jandal, as they say, is now on the other foot. From the email-boxes at dfmamea.com:

Yo -- Here is the one-page you demanded I write. And I’ve started on the outline. Satisfied?

dear acolyte

thanks for the one-pager. unfortunately, the story does not work for me.

your one-pager should answer the following questions:

– in one sentence, what is “She-Warrior” about?

– how does the film – not the story – open?

– how does the film – not the story – end?

– what film/s do you want your film to be like? this isn’t a question about your remaking a film you like; it’s about where you see your film heading – is it a Hamburger Hill or a Thin Red Line?

your protagonist’s motivation needs to be more convincing – so she wants to be a soldier: why? why does she want it so bad that she’s willing to risk abandoning her petting zoo, monosyllabic husband and illicit lesbian lover?

Yeah man -- I only wrote that one-pager stuff at, like, two in the morning. It’s only an idea.

what do you mean it’s only an idea? do you mean you have other ideas?

Like, yo, chill, dog – The story in that one-pager you were on my ass about is THE STORY.

oh. right.

now how’s that outline coming along?

I know I’m supposed to be working on that outline but I’ve had a brain-surge! --

I’ve got a theme: “You don’t mess with a bitch’s destiny”. -- What do you think?!

okay.

now how does it apply SPECIFICALLY to “She Warrior”?

Scratch that last email – I’ve just had another brain-surge!! -- Instead of her wanting to join the army, how about if she joins the stand-up comedy circuit!! -- WHAT DO YOU THINK??!!

YOU’RE GETTING OTHER IDEAS!

YOU SAID THE ONE-PAGE STORY WAS THE STORY!

now. a film about a stand-up comedienne could be much easier on the production because there’s no need to get military props, gear, location, etc. more than anything, once the story is set – no matter how familiar it might be at first glance – it becomes a matter of execution.

write what you want to put your heart into, whether it’s soldiers or comediennes or metal-workers-by-day-and-dancers-by-night.

what’s essential right now is that you pin down the story that YOU want to tell. once you commit to filming that story, you will have to see that story right to the end. that means writing it, workshopping it, answering all the questions the actors and crew are going to ask you about it, scouting for it, negotiating for it, prepping for it, paying for it, shooting it, cutting it AND THEN promoting the shit out of it. you’re gonna live that motherfucking story so it better be worth it. you better be prepared to tell it over and over and over AND BELIEVE IN IT each and every goddamned time.

now stop dicking around.

where’s that outline?

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Cribbing

When I was at school, I was pretty good at writing stories. I actually looked forward to writing them. As I hit my teens and averaged 125+ films and videos a year, homework that involved making stuff up was almost as much guilty fun as watching an R-rated film. Whatever the topic, I created exciting and vivid tales littered with the minutiae of tyre pressure fluctuations at 150kph and tactical applications of Glaser ammunition. I toiled over those stories, ensuring their technical perfection. I got good marks for them.

When the essays were marked and returned to us students, we would swap and share our work, checking out the competition and squeezing out as much praise and positive feedback as we could. I like to think I cornered the market on muscular writing. I like to think I had a following – sure, my fans were more the sporty types – a few of which would strongly suggest I write their next essay for them in exchange for my continued existence on this planet – but hey, they liked my work.

The stories that got the girls, however…. They weren’t as technically proficient as mine. They lacked my obsessive attention to detail. Instead, those other stories took a point of view that was confrontational or confounded the reader. Some of those other stories were shockingly vulnerable and personal. I hated the writers of those stories. I envied them and their work. I particularly envied the attention they drew.

Sean Molloy‘s blog, Why I Write has been scratching at my high school PTSD lately. It’s his honesty. With posts like this, I can’t just visualise him as faceless competition who’s half the country away that I can just make nice with. He’s a blogger. And a screenwriter. Just like me.

And so I’ll do just like I did when I spotted real talent in the classroom.

I’ll be very nice to him.

I’ll read his work.

And – very, very quietly – learn.

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Point & Click

I wish the past fortnight’s radio silence has been because of something exciting like negotiating a development deal or meeting multiple deadlines but alas, no: on top of a raft of Real World commitments, I’ve been sick. I’ve got some bloggy goodness lined up for you (that I have to, like, finish writing first) so until then –

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Uh Oh

I’ve started making notes about writing a play.

Aside from my role as Geppetto in a pantomime of Pinocchio a few years back*, the only theatrical background I can claim is a childhood littered with tearful Sunday school performances.

The seed idea is The Goddess’s, of course. It’s based on a situation in which I’m a mere bit player – a walk-on part, really – and it needed her bystanding perspective to recognise its dramatic potential.

What really turned me on to the idea/situation as a play was that mere moments after sketching the concept in four sentences, I could already see the final scene. Not long after that, having decided arbitrarily on a three-act structure, I had titles (names?) for each act. How freakin’ easy was that, baby?

Sixty minutes of theatre. Two, maybe three, ‘locations’ – all achievable (in my head at least) with a stage and some decent blocking. I wouldn’t mind a first draft by year’s end but I suspect this time next year would be more realistic.

Enthusiasm is high, tempered though it is with the acknowledgement of there being only seven days in any given week.

How hard could it be to write a play?**

Highlight of my performance: having called out to the audience, “What shall I name my child?”, amongst the calls for Pinocchio was ‘Snoop Dogg’.

**  Note to readers who have a vested interest in my workload: these are early early early days. Your script is in the mail.

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