Nov 18 2008

Aktors

When making small talk at gatherings, once all the parties’ occupations have had their two questions, an inevitable question thrown in my direction is What’s it like to work with actors? My usual answer is that they’re a necessary evil – a cross to be borne in order for us writers to tell our stories.

It gets a laugh – obviously I don’t give this answer when in the company of actor/s – but just between you and me, I’m a little afraid of actors.

Being a working screenwriter might be all about getting paid and buying things on TradeMe but it don’t count for a slab of Whittakers’ finest if you don’t get produced. And to get produced, amidst the small army of collaborators who will trample your ego, mince your work, and sully your vision are… actors.

Unless you take up puppeteering, anime or cartooning, you’re going to have to accept the fact that someone – not a clone of you, not some doppelganger of you – is going to take your words and -

- and what? At worst, expose you to be the hack you’ve been all along.

At best – and this happens more often than you think – bring your characters to life in ways you never imagined.

Of course what you see in readings/rehearsal/shooting/editing it’s not what you had in mind. Those uppity actors are asking a million questions about motivation, moulding your characters this way and that, challenging the backstory you created. They’re taking over… and as they put a face and tic and walk to your characters, they’re irrevocably changing them.

Change is good.

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Nov 2 2008

Naming Names

In the beginning, I didn’t care much for my character’s names. They just were, know-what-I-mean? Didn’t serial killers just happen to be called Gacy and Bundy? Didn’t Stallone and Schwarzenegger become action film brands? So what if my sister and I were named after our neighbours? (And why do people find this amusing?)

Names are important, though:

A name is like a tightly-wound DNA molecule, capable of conveying information about characterisation, tone, story and theme.
   – Elliott & Rossio

I’ve long since run out of first and middle names of friends, family and acquaintances. Unlike John August, no streetnames I can remember or think of lend themselves to being affixed to my puppets characters.

I have to work at it. But maybe I learnt from the best:

INT. LOUNGE, MY PARENTS’ HOUSE – EVENING – SOME TIME AGO

My MOTHER cradles her week-old grandson, DAVID (not his real name), and makes coo-ing noises. My FATHER peers at the packet of swaddling and wrinkles.

FATHER

What’s his name?

ME

(proudly)

David.

My mother wrinkles her nose.

MOTHER

What sort of name is David?

ME

‘S a great name – direct and unambiguous.

My father nods slowly and, after a beat, clears his throat:

FATHER

(to child)

We will call you... Safune.

DAVID/SAFUNE

Gurgle.

MOTHER

(to Father)

He likes that.

ME

(getting a little cross)

What’s wrong with David?

Safune and his grandparents ignore the recently-minted father and leave the room.

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