Something different…but the same. Trying to shoehorn my way into TV writing, I’ve spent years trying to concoct never-been-done before ideas for drama series. And yet what are my favourite shows on TV at the moment? A show about Cops and a show about Doctors. (This doesn’t include Lost, obviously – but Lost is the exception to every rule including this one so it will get its own blog posts at numerous later dates )
For anyone who hasn’t seen either Bones or House then I’ll summarise: In Bones they solve a murder every week and in every episode of House they try and work out what’s wrong with sick people. Genius, innit.
Well, actually yes. Why do I actually watch and love either of these shows? Not because of the above, that’s for certain. But each provides a clear and renewable ‘story-engine’ to provide a launch-pad for the plot of many, many episodes. I was lucky enough to recently attend a really useful seminar in Manchester with BBC’s Controller of Drama Production John Yorke where he clearly described some of the must-haves for a returning series:
Limited change
Be uplifting
Be Precinct-based.
Clearly defined hierarchy and status.
An enemy outside the group.
Defining sense of Morality.
Empathy.
Sense of cast being ‘a gang’.
Optimistic outlook – even against sheer adversity.
Pressure from above.
The sense that you want to be there!
Naturally, I agree. For Bones, the big softy in me loves the family aspect of the show. The more the series progresses, the more we see how damaged each of the brilliant people in it are and you like them even more for being able to function whilst being that broken. In House, I’m watching to the see the chinks in House’s bastard façade that defines his morality. And, while I’m waiting, I can enjoy just House being a bastard. But a clever bastard. And that’s what the creators of these shows are too, dagnammit!
As the series have progressed, I’d also say that both the murder and medical mysteries have actually slipped down the importance scale in an average episode. But they’re always there as the spine in Bones and the foundation in House. Without them, there’s no need for the characters to even be together. It’s telling that the fourth season of each show featured Brennan and Booth and House and Cuddy facing murder or disease on a plane bound for Asia – deprived of their usual facilities and facing the ticking clock of landing. But both were very different – apart from the fact that they were both brilliant.
Even if both will-they/won’t-they pairings got married, there had better be dead/dying body in their Honeymoon suite! But it’s the fact that the writers have made me want there NOT to be a mystery to solve that makes these shows so successful.
It seems the series creators ensure we want to see their characters happy…then do everything they can to ensure that they’re not!
(contains bloody great big spoilers for the film adaptation of THE MIST and Stephen King’s novella)
Having second-thoughts about the opening scene for my own horror screenplay, I asked on facebook last week what people’s favourite opening scenes for a horror movie was. Amid the usual suspects of Jaws, Scream, Hellraiser and Candyman (my suggestion – love that film!) the subject of The Mistraised its head – specifically, its ending. I don’t want to single my friend on facebook out (Hi Beth! ) as I’ve had myriad film conversations where hatred for The Mist’s harsh ending has suddenly dominated and been fiercely argued. I’ve yet to meet someone who is clinging to the fence.
Personally, I love it. Not because innocent characters die needlessly but I think it’s a perfect resolution to everything that has come before. To me, the whole film is about being overprotective. The metaphor for the erosion of civil liberties is pretty crass in places earlier in the film and I think it’s easy to see where Frank Darabont’s allegiances lie but, after all the zealotry on display throughout the film, the notion that it’s better we kill each other now to prevent a potential horror down the line is very powerful. But nuts to political allegory, I was moved by the tragedy of our main character trying to do the right thing - but in vain. Heart-breaking.
The original novella ends differently. David and co drive away from the supermarket as in the film but find nothing but death and monsters. Through the crackle of static on the radio, they make out the single word ‘Hartford’. Unsure, with this brief glimmer of hope, they set off for Hartford – not knowing whether safety or danger awaits them. Not bad at all but, in cinematic terms, would this have led to an even bigger no-no…the AMBIGUOUS ENDING!! (something I often get told off for)
So I don’t get the hatred. Especially hatred for the ending like it’s some separate entity from the rest of the film. How would you have ended it differently? Should the story not have been told at all? If you do like the film, do you like it for similar reasons to me?
Well, not *just* for George. This time every year – come Award Season – there are always a number of films where you could easily think ‘that film would be nothing without that central performance from (insert A-Lister)’. Maybe this is true. But how do you write the roles that big actors actually want to play?
When I went to see Up in the Air back in January, I realised halfway through that this wasn’t just a role written for George Clooney – it’s just that Clooney was the perfect actor for the part. And he is acting up there. Despite me thinking that Ryan Bingham is one of those characters that Clooney always plays, I’d never really seen him do it (maybe not since ER anyway). And while George was up for a Bafta the other week, it was for Best Adapted Screenplay that Up in the Air got its gong.
This might all sound bleedin’ obvious, but I’ve been reading an increasing amount of scripts that sacrifice character for concept - when really character should be the concept. Especially if you’re trying to get a first feature made. If you can’t prove you can write decent characters for lower-budget films, why will anyone trust you to write characters for expensive ones?
January also saw the release of Daybreakers and Britflick Exam – two films with some decent character actors but few decent characters. Both were dominated by cool high-concepts but, in my opinion, without decent character stories both ran out of steam as soon as the novelty of the big ‘what if?’ had worn off. It all seems so frickin’ obvious but, sitting there watching Up In The Air, it really hit home that high-concepts must still have the character at heart. As Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio put it:
High Concept = Character + Conflict + Hook (where Hook is often a cool catalyst or big event)
Maybe you do have the next breakthrough lower-budget, high-concept like Paranormal Activity or Cube did. But then the makers of these films have struggled to catch the same lightning in a bottle if they’ve even attempted a follow up. If all you’ve got is a gimmick then that will quickly be imitated and become stale. Whereas, the more banal films Denzel Washington does with Tony Scott, the more iconic his character in Training Day becomes to my eye.
Just looking at the Best Actor and Best Actress Oscar nominees of the last decade, roles including Daniel Day-Lewis for There Will Be Blood, Ellen Page in Juno, Anne Hathaway for Rachel Getting Married and (it wouldn’t be a blog post without him) Bill Murray for Lost in Translation really stand out (and that’s deliberately not including actors winning for real-life characters in Monster, Capote, The Hours or Milk). This is who they want to play. It can’t be coincidence that the screenplays of all of these films were also – at least – nominated for their Oscar categories.
Not that the awards themselves are the priority… but I’m just saying that, if you can write a screenplay that lures Daniel Day-Lewis from being a cobbler for a few months, chances are that finding funding might be a little easier!
I’ve never been one for Director’s Cuts. Mostly, you can see why various scenes were removed and in some cases (*coughDonnieDarkocough*) would arguably have been far lesser films if someone hadn’t got out the digital scissors… But then there’s Dark City.
When I first saw the enigmatic trailer, the cryptic mix of film noir evolving into science fiction was always going to win a place in my heart. It was never a film for everyone but with a budget of $27 million, did it have to be?
But, despite the stellar, understated performances, the amazing production design and my own affection for the film, some things always niggled…
If you’ve seen it, then you know the theatrical cut starts with Kiefer Sutherland’s cat-out-of-the-bag voiceover that was the narrative equivalent of watching The Sixth Sense while sitting next to Bruce Willis wearing his ‘my character is a ghost’ sandwich-board. I then saw the film for the second time with the lovely Heather who, despite liking the film, didn’t like that the soundtrack score never bloody shut up.
Both these things were forced on the film by execs who didn’t trust audiences with the patience for the developing mystery. Surely the fun, if not the point, of the film was to follow amnesiac John Murdoch (Rufus Sewell) as he wakes up accused of murder in a sunless city.
But when I picked up the recent Director’s Cut, I was amazed at how much slicker and pacier the whole film felt - which is impressive considering the new version is fifteen minutes longer than its original hour and a half. Gone is the voiceover so you are now drawn in without being talked down to. Also, the music has been re-scored in several places so no one is trying to add a frantic chase soundtrack to dialogue scenes.
But, perhaps most importantly (aside from it now being Jennifer Connelly singing instead of lip-synching a smoky jazz club number) are those added minutes. Now William Hurt’s overwhelmed detective doesn’t make a sudden character U-turn. Now the audience witness more of the strangeness along with Murdoch instead of before him and new special effects show a gradual growth in his abilities (as well as adding some new nice touches to other set pieces)
If you haven’t seen Dark City in a while then I strongly recommend picking the Director’s Cut up for a few quid and seeing the difference. If you haven’t seen Dark City at all, then I suggest you ignore the theatrical cut completely.
But if you’ve seen either version what did you think? For me, the Director’s Cut - while not making it perfect - has definitely boosted Dark City to being one of my favourite films.
When Superman Returns was on over Christmas, the usual jibe that the plot is ‘Superman lifts a series of increasingly heavy objects’ (Oops…possible spoilers ) started appearing on twitter and that what we all really wanted was to see Superman scrapping with some kind of giant beastie. But this instantly brings up the other general moan about Superman; that he’s ‘just too powerful’. So who’s he going to hit?
When DC Comics published The Death of Superman in the 90s (and had a younger me sobbing unashamedly) they created the mysterious creature nicknamed ‘Doomsday’.
For anyone who hasn’t read it, the premise is basically that Superman and Doomsday duke it out across American and into Metropolis. A lot of the actual plot or story is carried by the rest of the cast (Lois Lane and other less powerful superheroes) looking on, reacting in horror and helplessness. But, having re-read this story older and slightly more cynically, I did start to wonder why Superman didn’t just throw Doomsday up into space. But, again, doesn’t that just count as the ‘lifting a heavy object’ plot?
Hmmn. So what to do?
I’ve always thought that – apart from Lex Luthor – the best nemesis for Superman is that, for all his speed and strength, he still can’t be in two places at once. He can’t save everyone. To my mind, at its best, Smallville gets it right, primarily as the onus is on the Clark Kent/ Superman balance. Most episodes DO end with him turning up and punching someone in the nick of time to save his friends. But the fun of the episode is always whether Clark will find where he has to get to and who he has to punch someone and, more specifically, if he can get there in time without Lois noticing.
And I think this where Bryan Singer’s Superman went badly wrong. There was no mention of Clark for entire second half of the film. I’m not saying that Clark needed to be bumbling around Metropolis exploded. But the fact that the Daily Planet was evacuated and no one thought once to say ‘Hey, has anyone seen Clark?’ showed a different concern from the film-makers. But perhaps the Smallville structure only works due to it being an ongoing series than standalone feature that needs a third act.
To those who say that the ending of Superman Returns was anticlimactic, I can only say that (as is usual) the problem with the Ending was the Beginning and the Middle. But I do have a huge soft spot for the film – Superman, as a concept, is far more optimistic (or, indeed, soppy) than the likes of Batman in much the same as the difference in tone between Star Trek and Star Wars. But if the film had been as uplifting as the teaser trailer below, I, for one, would have been amazingly happy.
But ultimately, the finished film seemingly could not make up its mind what its main plot was. I’d say that the key flaw with Superman Returns wasn’t only that the makers decided against a big punch-up climax, but they really didn’t deliver on the Lois/Clark/Superman triangle either. Even if the film had ended with Supes pummelling Lex Luthor into villainous Spacey-chunks, we still probably wouldn’t have cared that much.
So while my answer to whether Superman has to hit people is probably ‘yes’… it’s not why I’ll be buying my ticket. What about you?
Described as the most important of the Oscars, Best Picture always seems to be the most contoversial - probably because it’s the vaguest in terms of what it actually is. And this year’s selection is certainly a mixed (as well as much larger) bag.
So what does ‘Best Picture’ mean to you? When discussing with friends, I blithely claimed ‘You shouldn’t be up for Best Picture if you’re not up for Best Original/Adapted Screenplay’ which is, of course, mostly bollocks …Mostly (see how I steered the conversation round to James Cameron there?)
In terms of Avatar, there hasn’t been a Best Picture nominee not to receive a Screenplay nomination since, oh, Titanic. The James Cameron conspiracy continues
But Titanic wasn’t the first. Star Wars was nominated for Best Picture without a screenplay nom but lost out to Annie Hall (which then went on to win both). But I don’t understand how you can compare Woody Allen and George Lucas (beyond arguing that both their earlier work was better) for making the film of the year.
It’s curious that they’ve taken the number of nominees back up to 10. While it’s nice for certain films to be acknowledged, should you be nominated if you haven’t really got a chance of winning? (But then do the Oscars actually mean much beyond the personal choices of the Academy and possibly a bit of Hollywood politics?)
So is Best Picture the film that’s better than the sum of its parts? The film the Academy wants to be remembered for choosing? An award for taking film in a new direction or against the trends of the last few years? I’d say it can be all of those things. But is that varied message why we sometimes think, in past years, that the Academy clearly got it ‘wrong’?
And who do you want to see win Best Picture 2010? And what the hell makes it ‘Best Picture’ anyway?
It’s probably before the scene picture above, isn’t it. I ended up with the arduous homework for my Computer Games Writing course of having to watch good old horror films such as Alien, The Thing, The Exorcist and Jaws over the last few weeks. Nightmare
The point of the exercise was to identify and compare the major structural beats and turning points of these films held up as good examples of the genre. And yet sitting there watching it with the clock on and looking for the nice ‘hello, I’m off into the magical new world of act two now‘ clarity of modern film-making seemed strangely absent.
I had always assumed that the death of the little boy on the raft (and the best contra-zoom shot ever!) was the end of Act One as everyone realises there is definitely a shark knocking around. But this only happens at about 11 minutes in whereas we are told that Act One ‘must’ end 25-30 minutes in.
I put that the end of the town meeting (after Quint scrapes his nails down the board) was the end of Act One as he essentially challenges Brody with the facts - take the battle to the shark or we all hide on land and our township goes bankrupt. But is that right either?
While we all came back with different answers, we all agreed that, if Jaws were re-made now, Act Two would begin with Chief Brody heading out to sea with Quint and Hooper, going to battle the shark in the watery world Chief Brody has always been afraid of. As you probably know, this doesn’t happen until over an hour in to the film.
So does Jaws have an hour long first act? Does Jaws show that the ‘rules’ of screenplay structure are malleable enough when your story is that strong? Or does this show Jaws‘ flaws? It’s also an hour before John Hurt’s chest bursts in Alien or before anyone even mentions the word ‘exorcism’ in The Exorcist. Do contemporary audiences not enjoy (or are presumed not to enjoy) the ratcheting build up of films like in the 70s?
I just finished reading Joe Hill’s equally heart-stopping and heart-warming ‘Heart-Shaped Box‘ while fending off the final New Year’s Eve event cobwebs. Finishing more books is definitely something I want to do in 2010.
But what else?
This year, I feel really lucky to have been allowed to work with amazing theatre company Slung Low on theatrical extravaganzas Beyond the Front Line, They Only Come at Night and, with perhaps too much free reign/too much fun, the TOCAN Live online narrative (running this project live and interacting online with the audiences as various characters was probably my working highlight of the year so thanks as well to any of you who played along!)
But what else?
Apart from the work I did with Slung Low, I feel that most of my other writing has been chasing various schemes and deadline applications. Mostly, without the time to start anything anew, this has meant freshening up old scripts and ideas. It seems obvious now that perhaps there’s a reason why these ideas were still sitting in my draw rather than already appearing on TV or stage.
It’s time to let go.
So I’ve decided to not apply for anything for a while and sit and write some new projects which new thoughts have been repeatedly popping up for. When they’re ready, then and only then will I see what schemes are knocking around to send them off for. So rather than New Year’s Resolutions, this is what I intend to have written by - not the end of 2010 - but by the time I turn 29 (which is at the end of March).
1. A new one hour TV drama pilot - it wont feature spaceships, aliens, monsters or magic of any sort (I gather this is possible ) I’m also going to break my rules about schemes too as this is intended to be ready as my submission for the BBC Writers’ Academy.
2. A radio play - now that I actually have sound on my computer again, I’ve been catching up on some amazing drama on Radio 4 and some spectacular sci-fi on BBC 7. I want a go!
3. An original low-budget feature film treatment- I’ve got the idea in mind, it’s mostly influenced by the clear ideas of Richard Matheson stories and adaptations such as Stephen Spielberg’s Duel (although mine does not feature a big truck)
4. A two minute short film - Wow, you’re gonna write two pages huh, John? Yeah, I know. But, as I found with The Emaciated Man, fitting a story in two minutes can be harder than telling one in an hour. Also this is going to be a self-contained snippet from the above feature film. Hopefully I might be able to con some talented people into making it with me and maybe entering it into this year’s Virgin Media Shorts competition. Either that or it could just be fun!
So these are my plans. Out with the old, in with the new. Wish me luck!
But that’s not why you’re here, is it. Okay okay, at my friends Russ and Ed’s New Year’s bash last night we had a bit of a quiz and the round I came up with was ‘match the Spaceship to the Film/TV franchise’. Click on the picture below to have a go yourself.
Granted, I’m just trying to wrangle a new career path in order to justify getting an Xbox 360 for Christmas, but writing for computer games has greatly interested me for years now.
At the beginning of December, I managed to gain a place on a Writing for Games training scheme run by Screen Yorkshire and indie games company Team 17 (who created Worms and the just released Alien Breed Evolution pictured above). For the next few months, I’ll be learning how to plot, develop and actually script a narrative for game which, whatever I come up with, will be about running around and blasting aliens.
That’s the interesting part for me and what makes it so different from writing for other media. Whatever this game turns out to be, this game will always be a ‘run and gun’ - but it’s the writer’s role to provide the context: Why are you shooting the aliens? Where are they shooting the aliens? Who is shooting the aliens?
That sounds like a lot of fun to me, for now - the main focus of a game should always be the gameplay, shouldn’t it? But there seems to be a battle brewing between narrative and gameplay on its way. Upcoming games such as the impressive-looking Heavy Rain which are focussing on emotional impact in its audience could open up new levels of interactivity and emotional immersion in a story. If it sells (fingers crossed!)
Even though the cut scenes were clunky, the story for the original Resident Evil had enough to keep me going. Mind you, most of the backstory for that came in the little booklet that came with the game, rather than it. But did that matter?
I found this short and funny video lecture by Daniel Floyd at Screw Attack on Storytelling in Videogames. It succinctly puts across the potential problems as well as the positives of interactivity in big release games. But, to me, it also puts across why writing for games is an exciting new venture as the rules haven’t quite been laid down yet. I’m going to give it a go anyway. Just as soon as I’ve saved Gotham from the Joker in Arkham Asylum
I’m half-way through several different blog posts but, as it’s Christmas Eve, I just fancied talking about stuff I liked this year. Rather than do my own abitrary ‘best of’ list, these are the bits from the films I’ve seen in 2009 that have really stuck with me.
This will contain *MILD SPOILERS* but I’ll make every effort to try and make sure I don’t give more away than watching the trailers. If you’ve seen the films I’ve listed, you’ll know the bits I mean anyway. In the order I saw them…
Also one of my favourite books of late (and one I’d read before I saw the film), the climax of Let the Right One In turns one or two sentences from the novel into a real gasp-inducing ‘how did they do that?’ set piece. But what really grabbed me was the emotional bond it suggested between innocent Oskar and once-innocent Eli. Bonus points as well for the additional coda (not in the book) that had me snuffling and trying to ‘get something out of my eye’.
As the Star Trek timeline is re-written forever, in his opening set-piece JJ Abrams also managed to create a perfect blend of action, emotion, sound and fury. Whatever your thoughts on the whole film, George Kirk trying to hear about his newborn son as he valiantly stays on board the USS Kelvin to enable his crew’s escape sets the tone that audiences needed - that Starfleet Captains have to be double bastard-hard. I don’t think the rest of the film ever reaches the heady heights of this opening gambit…but what an opening.
The others on this list aren’t necessarily my top five entire movies of 2009 - but, without a doubt, MOON is my movie of the year. This also made it hard to choose just one moment from it as director Duncan Jones had Sam Rockwell doing too many cool things. However, the bit where robotic assistant GERTY (benevolently voiced by Kevin Spacey) shows whose side he’s really on is probably when this movie became something else for me.
If you haven’t seen it yet, I really recommend this film and hope you like it as much as I did!
4. ‘Wikus escorts Christopher Johnson’ fromDistrict 9
I don’t think I’m alone in being surprised by this film. I think a lot of us were expecting more a of a satirical edge where District 9 seemed much happier becoming an action film. Not necessarily a problem, mind you. While I wasn’t always on board with the film, the transformation of MNU operative Wikus into the shamed-protector of a ‘prawn’ called Christopher Johnson became an exhilarating showdown that still hit me with strong characterisation - particularly the bit where, in desperation, Wikus plays ‘catch’ with an incoming projectile. I gasped.
If you haven’t seen it yet, I’m sure you’ve all heard about the opening sequence that stunned an audience into blubbering submission. But that’s why I’ve chosen the bit immediately afterwards, the joyous catharsis of cranky Carl not giving in and taking off. This scene is the key moment in all of the trailers and marketing for this movie so we’d all seen it a thousand times already but this is my final choice because, once we’d been hit with the bittersweet context, we needed this scene. And it was brilliant!
* * * * *
I’ve limited myself to five, but I should throw in an honourable mention to Paranormal Activity too. The ending is as scary as you’ve heard (and taught me that I don’t scream so much as yell ‘WAHEY!’ when I’m made to jump in fear - how embarrassing ) but the bit the bit that really creeped me was the pay-off to boyfriend Micah’s experiments in catching their ‘intruder’s’ footprints in flour. Yikes.
I know I’ve missed a few out, so what were your best movie bits? And, to all who want it, I wish you a very merry one!
John Hunter is the writer of online pilot THE END IS NIGEL. This blog follows the project's history as well as John's writing in general.
If you haven't already, please enjoy www.theendisnigel.com.
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) but the bit the bit that really creeped me was the pay-off to boyfriend Micah’s experiments in catching their ‘intruder’s’ footprints in flour. Yikes.