I haven't had any time in the last few weeks to read any screenplays at all. But a few days ago I watched Chicago for the first time in a few years, and I want to talk about it because it's so darn clever.
I've never seen the original musical it's based on, so I don't know how much is kept or changed. But the movie uses the genre of a musical perfectly to tell its armature: the world is a show, and there is no justice in it.
How does it do this?
Instead of characters breaking out into song in the middle of their lives, the "music" part of the musical takes place in an alternate vaudeville-like reality in which characters sing about their true feelings. In this reality there is an MC, and there are wild costumes, and spotlights and chorus lines and elaborate set pieces are all over the place. While a scene will be going on in the "real" world, a song will be occurring in the "show" world, and the two are layered on top of each other to create a powerful description of what's really happening (in terms of motivations and such).
The interesting thing is that events that occur in the "real" world are all lies and performances, while the metaphorical staging and lighting and lyrics in the "show" world tell the truth of the situation. In order to better explain, let me give an example.
Protagonist Roxie Hart gets convicted for murdering the man she was sleeping around with. She hires a lawyer to help get her sympathy from the people and the jury before her trial, and the lawyer is so good at his job that he makes up a ridiculous false story about her wonderful sweet life, and he completely fools the press with it. This scene shows Roxie and her lawyer making a press release in the "real" world, while a song goes on in the "show" world that portrays the lawyer as a puppet master and all the reporters as his puppets, with Roxie as his ventriloquist dummy. The reality is that Roxie has a really good lawyer; the truth is that he is shamelessly manipulating everyone involved.
So what's really fascinating is that, essentially, everything that happens in the "real" world is a lie, a performance. Everything that happens in the "performance" world is the truth. The real world is a show.
Roxie Hart craves the fame that her trial gives her. By using lies and performances, she manages to fool everyone of her innocence and get acquitted. The final number of the musical is a giant dance number with Roxie and her clone Velma, celebrating their own fame and success. But even though this comes off as pretty cool and a great musical number, we realize that these people are not good, and they are still the same as when they murdered somebody. In fact, they are rewarded with fame, the one thing they want, for their murder.
So, all in all, this is what Chicago is doing: the protagonist is a bad person who lies and murders and emotionally abuses her good-natured husband, and in the end is not punished for it. But this is played up as a show. Because Chicago is a musical, we celebrate its protagonist for being an amazing singer/dancer even though she is a terrible person. This is because the world is a show and there is no justice in it.
This is the most brilliant use of the musical aesthetic that I have ever seen.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Friday, August 2, 2013
Day 25: Norma Rae
Irving Ravetch and Harriet Frank, Jr, 1978
I read this one because Brian McDonald likes it a lot. It's focused, it tells an emotional story, it speaks to humanity. But somehow I don't really care for it.
It follows Norma Rae Webster, a woman who works in a textile factory. She tries to organize a union, and finally does in the climax just before getting fired. She stands up to the big guys and makes a huge change.
I don't think I really "get" Norma's character development. Or even "get" her character. She seems to be quite strong, stubborn, and independent. But she seems to be this way for the whole film. At the beginning, she was also being taken advantage of by several men. But that problem is quickly solved when she gets married, so her personal growth doesn't seem to be understanding her own value. So what is her growth? What aspect of Norma changes?
It didn't seem like anything, to me. She changed her situation, but she didn't change as a person. I didn't really see her learn any lessons. She stood up for what she believed in and that's awesome, don't get me wrong, but I was expecting to see some internal growth and I didn't see any. It is also possible that it happened and somehow I completely missed it. Or maybe I'm expecting the wrong thing from this story; it isn't about internal change at all, but about changing the world. Mark Kennedy talks about these kinds of stories here. ParaNorman (which I posted about a few weeks ago) is also one of those kinds of stories: the main character is more like a sage-figure, and we watch these stories to see how we, collectively as a society, can change.
tl;dr - This is a good story worth watching, but I didn't connect with it for some reason.
I read this one because Brian McDonald likes it a lot. It's focused, it tells an emotional story, it speaks to humanity. But somehow I don't really care for it.
It follows Norma Rae Webster, a woman who works in a textile factory. She tries to organize a union, and finally does in the climax just before getting fired. She stands up to the big guys and makes a huge change.
I don't think I really "get" Norma's character development. Or even "get" her character. She seems to be quite strong, stubborn, and independent. But she seems to be this way for the whole film. At the beginning, she was also being taken advantage of by several men. But that problem is quickly solved when she gets married, so her personal growth doesn't seem to be understanding her own value. So what is her growth? What aspect of Norma changes?
It didn't seem like anything, to me. She changed her situation, but she didn't change as a person. I didn't really see her learn any lessons. She stood up for what she believed in and that's awesome, don't get me wrong, but I was expecting to see some internal growth and I didn't see any. It is also possible that it happened and somehow I completely missed it. Or maybe I'm expecting the wrong thing from this story; it isn't about internal change at all, but about changing the world. Mark Kennedy talks about these kinds of stories here. ParaNorman (which I posted about a few weeks ago) is also one of those kinds of stories: the main character is more like a sage-figure, and we watch these stories to see how we, collectively as a society, can change.
tl;dr - This is a good story worth watching, but I didn't connect with it for some reason.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Day 24: There Will Be Blood
Paul Thomas Anderson, 2006
This is clearly a very well made film. It reminds me of No Country For Old Men in how well it tells you things, visually. I'll again reference David Mamet's ideas about juxtaposition of shots, and cutting out what is unnecessary.
But I have to be honest here. I don't know what this screenplay is about. I suppose I do have some ideas. It could be about the danger of obsession. It could be about the destructiveness of paranoia. It could be some kind of metaphor for gluttony, or envy, or pride. There are a few things that seem to be pretty significant, and I'm trying to piece together what these things all mean.
1. Daniel's relationship with his son HW is clearly important. Daniel clearly loves his son, but he ultimately chooses his oil company over him. HW is sent away when his hearing becomes a problem and Daniel doesn't want to take time out of his day to help. This is not portrayed, in the script, as a just action, so we as the audience know that Daniel is wrong for doing this. Later, HW willingly leaves Daniel because of Daniel's terrible obsession with oil.
2. Daniel's relationship with his "brother" Henry. Henry is likely just a tool to show Daniel's increasing paranoia and unhealthy stress about his job. As soon as Daniel discovers Henry has been lying, he immediately shoots him. The motivation for this is difficult to write in words, but I think it's meant to show how unreasonable Daniel has become. He's growing a terrible emotional demon inside.
3. Daniel's relationship with Eli. They don't really conflict that much. He probably embodies the things about people that Daniel hates. But Eli's biggest significance seems to come at the very end, when Daniel kills him and states "I'm finished."
This line seems to be the key that I can't figure out. Finished with what? Carrying around an incredible amount of hatred and fear? This story seems to track the development of Daniel's internal darkness until he is finally finished. But I can't seem to grasp why it finishes, or why it makes Daniel behave the way he does, or why this story was constructed with this particular setting.
Though I don't understand the specifics, I do at least understand that the message of this story seems to be "don't do this." Don't carry around these destructive emotions. Don't get involved in a business that will tear you apart and drive you to this point. HW understands that, and he gets out.
If anyone has thoughts on what is going on in this story, please comment. I'd like to hear ideas.
This is clearly a very well made film. It reminds me of No Country For Old Men in how well it tells you things, visually. I'll again reference David Mamet's ideas about juxtaposition of shots, and cutting out what is unnecessary.
But I have to be honest here. I don't know what this screenplay is about. I suppose I do have some ideas. It could be about the danger of obsession. It could be about the destructiveness of paranoia. It could be some kind of metaphor for gluttony, or envy, or pride. There are a few things that seem to be pretty significant, and I'm trying to piece together what these things all mean.
1. Daniel's relationship with his son HW is clearly important. Daniel clearly loves his son, but he ultimately chooses his oil company over him. HW is sent away when his hearing becomes a problem and Daniel doesn't want to take time out of his day to help. This is not portrayed, in the script, as a just action, so we as the audience know that Daniel is wrong for doing this. Later, HW willingly leaves Daniel because of Daniel's terrible obsession with oil.
2. Daniel's relationship with his "brother" Henry. Henry is likely just a tool to show Daniel's increasing paranoia and unhealthy stress about his job. As soon as Daniel discovers Henry has been lying, he immediately shoots him. The motivation for this is difficult to write in words, but I think it's meant to show how unreasonable Daniel has become. He's growing a terrible emotional demon inside.
3. Daniel's relationship with Eli. They don't really conflict that much. He probably embodies the things about people that Daniel hates. But Eli's biggest significance seems to come at the very end, when Daniel kills him and states "I'm finished."
This line seems to be the key that I can't figure out. Finished with what? Carrying around an incredible amount of hatred and fear? This story seems to track the development of Daniel's internal darkness until he is finally finished. But I can't seem to grasp why it finishes, or why it makes Daniel behave the way he does, or why this story was constructed with this particular setting.
Though I don't understand the specifics, I do at least understand that the message of this story seems to be "don't do this." Don't carry around these destructive emotions. Don't get involved in a business that will tear you apart and drive you to this point. HW understands that, and he gets out.
If anyone has thoughts on what is going on in this story, please comment. I'd like to hear ideas.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Day 23: An Education
There was a lack of posts last week because I needed to take some time off. But now it's a new week, and my motivation is back. So let's start with a film I saw a year ago that I thought was pretty good. I actually wrote an essay about it for an English class, but that was before I started studying story structure.
Armature: Life does not need excess pleasure, but a balance of pleasure and hard work, for the most meaning.
There are a few reasons I believe this, specifically, is the armature. I'll get to that in a moment.
7 Steps:
1. Once upon a time, Jenny was a bright young schoolgirl who lived in a boring, strict world, but dreamed of leaving for college and really experiencing life.
2. And every day Jenny studied hard, excelled in school, and was strictly controlled by her father.
3. Until one day Jenny is taken out to a concert and a jazz club for a night by the man David and his fancy friends, and she is exposed to the high-class art she has dreamed of.
4. Because of this Jenny is taken on many adventures with David and his friends, and even goes out of town to beautiful cities with them.
5. Because of this, Jenny gets engaged to David and leaves school.
6. Until finally, Jenny finds out that David has been lying the whole time, and is left with nothing.
7. And ever since that day Jenny has pursued a good education at Oxford, and taken life at her own pace.
This story is all about the balance between hard work and excess. Jenny is a great relatable character for this idea: she's a dreamer trapped in a boring life in which she can't even listen to French music. Her life is completely hard work. But, she doesn't completely dislike it. She's eager to answer questions in class, and likes learning French.
David is Jenny's wish fulfilled, like Oz is for Dorothy in "Wizard of Oz." He whisks her away to a life of culture, art, and class. She gets to experience what she always wanted. So she starts to wonder, what is school good for, anyway? Why go to school if I can experience this by marrying David?
But David also comes with a lot of badness. In order to afford expensive things, he and his friend Danny steal paintings from old ladies' homes. They lie and cheat and steal. David is also married to another woman, and has romanced a lot of other girls like Jenny before. So Jenny can't have the luxurious life she wants for free.
What Jenny learns is that the life she wants is a balance of the two. She visits her schoolteacher, Ms. Stubbs, for help after David has left her. Ms. Stubbs is the embodiment of the armature, a projection of what Jenny could be one day. Ms. Stubbs works hard, but has a meaningful life. When Jenny visits her home, she comments that all the photos and images are lovely. And then she realizes that even though those decorations aren't real (they're merely copies and postcards), they're enough. That's when she understands. Her life doesn't need to be an excess of glamour. It just needs enough.
What this story does particularly well is use a lot of clones. Danny and Helen are like a "successful" version of David and Jenny. It's implied that Danny also has a wife and Helen knows it. Helen is beautiful, but also a bit of an idiot. They know things about art and music, but their lives aren't morally that good. When David leaves her, Jenny realizes just what kind of people they are, and that she almost became them.
Jenny's schoolgirl friends Hattie and Tina are clones of what Jenny could become if she only studied. The two are, to put it bluntly, boring. They don't have dreams like Jenny, they aren't beautiful like Jenny, and they aren't nearly as studious as her.
Then, as I've already said, Ms. Stubbs is also an impressive clone. She's kind of like the mentor figure, but she doesn't die partway through the story because she isn't present until she needs to be. She allows the viewer to understand what the armature is trying to say: a simple, balanced life is ideal.
I don't know if I'm explaining more than I need to here. All in all, this script is easier than most to understand because a lot of characters explicitly state their goals, and the plot is pretty straightforward. I would recommend it to those wanting to understand narrative tools without having to dig too deep.
An Education
Nick Hornby, 2009ishArmature: Life does not need excess pleasure, but a balance of pleasure and hard work, for the most meaning.
There are a few reasons I believe this, specifically, is the armature. I'll get to that in a moment.
7 Steps:
1. Once upon a time, Jenny was a bright young schoolgirl who lived in a boring, strict world, but dreamed of leaving for college and really experiencing life.
2. And every day Jenny studied hard, excelled in school, and was strictly controlled by her father.
3. Until one day Jenny is taken out to a concert and a jazz club for a night by the man David and his fancy friends, and she is exposed to the high-class art she has dreamed of.
4. Because of this Jenny is taken on many adventures with David and his friends, and even goes out of town to beautiful cities with them.
5. Because of this, Jenny gets engaged to David and leaves school.
6. Until finally, Jenny finds out that David has been lying the whole time, and is left with nothing.
7. And ever since that day Jenny has pursued a good education at Oxford, and taken life at her own pace.
This story is all about the balance between hard work and excess. Jenny is a great relatable character for this idea: she's a dreamer trapped in a boring life in which she can't even listen to French music. Her life is completely hard work. But, she doesn't completely dislike it. She's eager to answer questions in class, and likes learning French.
David is Jenny's wish fulfilled, like Oz is for Dorothy in "Wizard of Oz." He whisks her away to a life of culture, art, and class. She gets to experience what she always wanted. So she starts to wonder, what is school good for, anyway? Why go to school if I can experience this by marrying David?
But David also comes with a lot of badness. In order to afford expensive things, he and his friend Danny steal paintings from old ladies' homes. They lie and cheat and steal. David is also married to another woman, and has romanced a lot of other girls like Jenny before. So Jenny can't have the luxurious life she wants for free.
What Jenny learns is that the life she wants is a balance of the two. She visits her schoolteacher, Ms. Stubbs, for help after David has left her. Ms. Stubbs is the embodiment of the armature, a projection of what Jenny could be one day. Ms. Stubbs works hard, but has a meaningful life. When Jenny visits her home, she comments that all the photos and images are lovely. And then she realizes that even though those decorations aren't real (they're merely copies and postcards), they're enough. That's when she understands. Her life doesn't need to be an excess of glamour. It just needs enough.
What this story does particularly well is use a lot of clones. Danny and Helen are like a "successful" version of David and Jenny. It's implied that Danny also has a wife and Helen knows it. Helen is beautiful, but also a bit of an idiot. They know things about art and music, but their lives aren't morally that good. When David leaves her, Jenny realizes just what kind of people they are, and that she almost became them.
Jenny's schoolgirl friends Hattie and Tina are clones of what Jenny could become if she only studied. The two are, to put it bluntly, boring. They don't have dreams like Jenny, they aren't beautiful like Jenny, and they aren't nearly as studious as her.
Then, as I've already said, Ms. Stubbs is also an impressive clone. She's kind of like the mentor figure, but she doesn't die partway through the story because she isn't present until she needs to be. She allows the viewer to understand what the armature is trying to say: a simple, balanced life is ideal.
I don't know if I'm explaining more than I need to here. All in all, this script is easier than most to understand because a lot of characters explicitly state their goals, and the plot is pretty straightforward. I would recommend it to those wanting to understand narrative tools without having to dig too deep.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Day 22: It's a Wonderful Life
Frances Goodrich, Albert Hackett, Jo Swerling, and Frank Capra, 1945ish
For this screenplay, I don't want to do my usual armature-and-7-steps format. Rather, there's something else I want to talk about.
Someone about this story bothers me. I don't think the lesson quite fixes the main character's problem. Let me explain. (if you don't want the plot of the movie to be spoiled, don't read this post.)
George Bailey spends the entire film wanting to get out of his small town. As a kid he wants to travel. As a young adult, he wants to go to college. After he gets married, he wants to Honeymoon in Europe. But things keep getting in the way, and George stays in his small town because he puts other people in need before himself. He is never able to leave. Eventually, this takes a toll on him. Just before the climax, George Bailey is frustrated with the world for keeping him from the life he wants, while many other people he knows get to follow their dreams. He is angry at everyone because life has been unfair to him. He is stuck.
This is resolved when the angel Clarence shows him a world where he never existed. Everything is drastically different. People he knows ended up in different places, his family business got shut down, the town has a different name. This frightens George, and he realizes that he really wants his life back. He wants the things he thought he didn't want. And when Clarence gives it back to him, he is grateful for all the people he knows and they all show their appreciation by helping him out of a big fix.
The lesson here seems to be "be grateful for your life and the connections you make, because it's better than you think." George doesn't want his life for, essentially, his whole life. But then it's taken from him, and he understands that he does want his life. So he learns the lesson.
This bothers me because it doesn't seem to quite add up. I sympathize greatly with George's inability to go find his dreams. His problem the whole film isn't that he doesn't want his life, or wishes he didn't exist. His problem is that he wants to do something greater. He wants to serve mankind by building cities and bridges, not live in a run-down old house and run a loan business. He's driven to suicide because he can't get this, and hasn't been able to get this for his whole life. So I feel like Clarence isn't fixing that problem, Clarence is fixing the suicidal problem. Clarence makes him want to stay alive, but Clarence doesn't give him the ability to leave town and see the world. George Bailey still does not get to leave.
To be fair, George is kept in town the whole film by his own morality. He doesn't leave because he feels a great sense of duty to the people who need his help, but he technically had a few opportunities to leave if he ignored those people. It could be argued that this means George really did want to stay in town the whole time, and Clarence just made him see that. But I disagree; I think George is simply a selfless, good person who genuinely wants to help people, more than he wants to help himself. But if that was the case, then wouldn't the ultimate reward be the granting of his selfish dreams? Because he is a good person, he finally gets to leave and travel, like he always wanted?
The reward ends up being "this place you're stuck in isn't too bad, look at all these people who love you! You should be satisfied with that!" And that's not a bad reward. It isn't a bad thing that George sees the value in his life. But it bothers me that he is stuck with his life and has no choice but to see value in it, instead of pursuing the life he really wants.
So I feel like the message here isn't as much "be grateful for your life" as it is "good ethics will not let you follow your dreams."
If anyone has any thoughts on this, please comment. Maybe I just don't value the things they used to value in the 40s, and back then something like staying at home and being happy was more important than following your dreams.
For this screenplay, I don't want to do my usual armature-and-7-steps format. Rather, there's something else I want to talk about.
Someone about this story bothers me. I don't think the lesson quite fixes the main character's problem. Let me explain. (if you don't want the plot of the movie to be spoiled, don't read this post.)
George Bailey spends the entire film wanting to get out of his small town. As a kid he wants to travel. As a young adult, he wants to go to college. After he gets married, he wants to Honeymoon in Europe. But things keep getting in the way, and George stays in his small town because he puts other people in need before himself. He is never able to leave. Eventually, this takes a toll on him. Just before the climax, George Bailey is frustrated with the world for keeping him from the life he wants, while many other people he knows get to follow their dreams. He is angry at everyone because life has been unfair to him. He is stuck.
This is resolved when the angel Clarence shows him a world where he never existed. Everything is drastically different. People he knows ended up in different places, his family business got shut down, the town has a different name. This frightens George, and he realizes that he really wants his life back. He wants the things he thought he didn't want. And when Clarence gives it back to him, he is grateful for all the people he knows and they all show their appreciation by helping him out of a big fix.
The lesson here seems to be "be grateful for your life and the connections you make, because it's better than you think." George doesn't want his life for, essentially, his whole life. But then it's taken from him, and he understands that he does want his life. So he learns the lesson.
This bothers me because it doesn't seem to quite add up. I sympathize greatly with George's inability to go find his dreams. His problem the whole film isn't that he doesn't want his life, or wishes he didn't exist. His problem is that he wants to do something greater. He wants to serve mankind by building cities and bridges, not live in a run-down old house and run a loan business. He's driven to suicide because he can't get this, and hasn't been able to get this for his whole life. So I feel like Clarence isn't fixing that problem, Clarence is fixing the suicidal problem. Clarence makes him want to stay alive, but Clarence doesn't give him the ability to leave town and see the world. George Bailey still does not get to leave.
To be fair, George is kept in town the whole film by his own morality. He doesn't leave because he feels a great sense of duty to the people who need his help, but he technically had a few opportunities to leave if he ignored those people. It could be argued that this means George really did want to stay in town the whole time, and Clarence just made him see that. But I disagree; I think George is simply a selfless, good person who genuinely wants to help people, more than he wants to help himself. But if that was the case, then wouldn't the ultimate reward be the granting of his selfish dreams? Because he is a good person, he finally gets to leave and travel, like he always wanted?
The reward ends up being "this place you're stuck in isn't too bad, look at all these people who love you! You should be satisfied with that!" And that's not a bad reward. It isn't a bad thing that George sees the value in his life. But it bothers me that he is stuck with his life and has no choice but to see value in it, instead of pursuing the life he really wants.
So I feel like the message here isn't as much "be grateful for your life" as it is "good ethics will not let you follow your dreams."
If anyone has any thoughts on this, please comment. Maybe I just don't value the things they used to value in the 40s, and back then something like staying at home and being happy was more important than following your dreams.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Day 21: Casablanca
Philip Epstein, Julius Epstein, and Howard Koch, 1942
Armature: something like, The world is greater than our lives alone.
7 steps:
1. Once upon a time Rick Blaine owned a bar in Casablanca.
2. And every day he looked out for his own interests and treated life and politics with neutrality.
3. Until one day, his old love Ilsa comes to the bar with her husband Victor, who is being tracked by the police.
4. Because of this, the two are unable to leave Casablanca.
5. Because of this Isla asks Rick for his help getting Victor on a plane out of there, while she will stay behind because she still loves Rick.
6. Until finally, Rick helps Ilsa and Victor escape on the plane to Lisbon.
7. And ever since that day Rick has fought for a greater cause than himself.
There are a couple things I want to discuss about this screenplay. I feel like they're worth discussing, seeing as Casablanca is often regarded as the greatest screenplay/movie of all time.
First, I expected this movie to be a love story. And, I suppose, it was. The plot seemed to be focused on Rick and Ilsa's romantic relationship in Paris. But that's not what this story is about. This is about Rick learning how to allow himself to help other people after being hurt by them. Rick is a contained, mysterious character who doesn't make friends or trust anyone. He chooses his words carefully. He keeps a neutral face at all times. But he does have a heart, as we see when Ilsa enters the picture. And he steadily learns to help other people over the course of the film. By the end, Rick is no longer thinking about himself. He even is ready to be all buddy-buddy with Renault.
So I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I'm surprised that everyone seems to remember Casablanca as a love story, when that really isn't the point. There needs to be powerful love involved to get Rick to open up again, but that love isn't what's important. What that love gets him to do is the important part.
Secondly, I'm impressed by how meticulous this script is. Everything is very well thought out. There are many moments that exist solely for the purpose of showing what kind of guy Rick is, but they fit in so smoothly with the plot that you can't even tell. There are a ton of named characters, and a lot of politics going on. Which means there's a lot of dialogue and filling-the-viewer-in-on-what's-happening. But it works, seamlessly. I wonder about the use of a narrator at the beginning, though. Perhaps there was just no other way to give that initial exposition.
Thirdly, I am not sure how I feel about the flashback scene. I tend to not be a fan of flashbacks in general, because I feel like they often serve as a cop-out. Oh, there's this thing the viewer doesn't know about; let's show them a flashback! Like that. But I think the reason there was a flashback was to get the viewer to understand how Rick feels about Ilsa. If he did something like talk about his experience and how he loved her, it would probably be not quite as effective or convincing. Especially since we've already seen Rick interact with a woman by now (Yvonne, his french admirer, who is really only there to show us a contrast against Rick's feelings towards Ilsa).
And finally... I am not actually moved by this script. I have respect for it. I am fascinated by it. But its message doesn't pierce me like some other screenplays have. Oh well, to each their own.
Armature: something like, The world is greater than our lives alone.
7 steps:
1. Once upon a time Rick Blaine owned a bar in Casablanca.
2. And every day he looked out for his own interests and treated life and politics with neutrality.
3. Until one day, his old love Ilsa comes to the bar with her husband Victor, who is being tracked by the police.
4. Because of this, the two are unable to leave Casablanca.
5. Because of this Isla asks Rick for his help getting Victor on a plane out of there, while she will stay behind because she still loves Rick.
6. Until finally, Rick helps Ilsa and Victor escape on the plane to Lisbon.
7. And ever since that day Rick has fought for a greater cause than himself.
There are a couple things I want to discuss about this screenplay. I feel like they're worth discussing, seeing as Casablanca is often regarded as the greatest screenplay/movie of all time.
First, I expected this movie to be a love story. And, I suppose, it was. The plot seemed to be focused on Rick and Ilsa's romantic relationship in Paris. But that's not what this story is about. This is about Rick learning how to allow himself to help other people after being hurt by them. Rick is a contained, mysterious character who doesn't make friends or trust anyone. He chooses his words carefully. He keeps a neutral face at all times. But he does have a heart, as we see when Ilsa enters the picture. And he steadily learns to help other people over the course of the film. By the end, Rick is no longer thinking about himself. He even is ready to be all buddy-buddy with Renault.
So I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I'm surprised that everyone seems to remember Casablanca as a love story, when that really isn't the point. There needs to be powerful love involved to get Rick to open up again, but that love isn't what's important. What that love gets him to do is the important part.
Secondly, I'm impressed by how meticulous this script is. Everything is very well thought out. There are many moments that exist solely for the purpose of showing what kind of guy Rick is, but they fit in so smoothly with the plot that you can't even tell. There are a ton of named characters, and a lot of politics going on. Which means there's a lot of dialogue and filling-the-viewer-in-on-what's-happening. But it works, seamlessly. I wonder about the use of a narrator at the beginning, though. Perhaps there was just no other way to give that initial exposition.
Thirdly, I am not sure how I feel about the flashback scene. I tend to not be a fan of flashbacks in general, because I feel like they often serve as a cop-out. Oh, there's this thing the viewer doesn't know about; let's show them a flashback! Like that. But I think the reason there was a flashback was to get the viewer to understand how Rick feels about Ilsa. If he did something like talk about his experience and how he loved her, it would probably be not quite as effective or convincing. Especially since we've already seen Rick interact with a woman by now (Yvonne, his french admirer, who is really only there to show us a contrast against Rick's feelings towards Ilsa).
And finally... I am not actually moved by this script. I have respect for it. I am fascinated by it. But its message doesn't pierce me like some other screenplays have. Oh well, to each their own.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Day 20: Kramer vs Kramer
Robert Benton, 1979
Armature: It takes courage to walk out on your husband and son. (To be fair I didn't figure this one out for myself, I learned it from Brian McDonald.)
7 Steps:
1. Once upon a time, Ted Kramer was a hard-working businessman who had a wife and a son.
2. And every day he worked long hours at his job, while his wife Joanna took care of their son Billy.
3. Until one day, Joanna leaves Ted and Billy.
4. Because of this Ted learns how to be a dependable parent for Billy.
5. Because of this Joanna returns and wins a custody trial to take Billy back.
6. Until finally, Joanna understands what she really wants and lets Ted keep Billy.
7. And ever since that day, Ted and Billy have lived together happily in New York, along with all the other families out there.
This screenplay really moved me. Its story is really simple, but it tells some incredible emotional truths. I am a young adult, who doesn't plan on becoming a parent for a long awhile. But this script made me understand what parenting and divorce are like. And it made me feel what it's like to love a child. The fact that this screenplay could make me feel that is incredible.
Some of the camerawork is pretty well done, too. My favorite is the final shot, which has Ted and Billy running through a park, happy to be alive. And then the camera pulls back and you see all the other parents and children at the park. I think what this shot is saying is we are all the same. Then the film ends, with that impression of humanity.
That's why this film movies me! That's it. It teaches about humanity. It accurately and honestly portrays humanity, and doesn't sugarcoat anything.
I am also really touched by the character of Joanna. Both Ted and Joanna are the characters of change in this script, even though Ted is portrayed more as the protagonist. Joanna feels the weight of marriage and motherhood on her shoulders, and she digs down deep inside her and finally comes to the conclusion that she doesn't want it, even though it hurts her to admit it. I am astounded by the maturity in her, to be able to see that in herself. Even though she ultimately did not end up with her child, I feel like the viewer can learn more about life from Joanna than from Ted.
Ending thoughts: my god, this was freaking good.
Armature: It takes courage to walk out on your husband and son. (To be fair I didn't figure this one out for myself, I learned it from Brian McDonald.)
7 Steps:
1. Once upon a time, Ted Kramer was a hard-working businessman who had a wife and a son.
2. And every day he worked long hours at his job, while his wife Joanna took care of their son Billy.
3. Until one day, Joanna leaves Ted and Billy.
4. Because of this Ted learns how to be a dependable parent for Billy.
5. Because of this Joanna returns and wins a custody trial to take Billy back.
6. Until finally, Joanna understands what she really wants and lets Ted keep Billy.
7. And ever since that day, Ted and Billy have lived together happily in New York, along with all the other families out there.
This screenplay really moved me. Its story is really simple, but it tells some incredible emotional truths. I am a young adult, who doesn't plan on becoming a parent for a long awhile. But this script made me understand what parenting and divorce are like. And it made me feel what it's like to love a child. The fact that this screenplay could make me feel that is incredible.
Some of the camerawork is pretty well done, too. My favorite is the final shot, which has Ted and Billy running through a park, happy to be alive. And then the camera pulls back and you see all the other parents and children at the park. I think what this shot is saying is we are all the same. Then the film ends, with that impression of humanity.
That's why this film movies me! That's it. It teaches about humanity. It accurately and honestly portrays humanity, and doesn't sugarcoat anything.
I am also really touched by the character of Joanna. Both Ted and Joanna are the characters of change in this script, even though Ted is portrayed more as the protagonist. Joanna feels the weight of marriage and motherhood on her shoulders, and she digs down deep inside her and finally comes to the conclusion that she doesn't want it, even though it hurts her to admit it. I am astounded by the maturity in her, to be able to see that in herself. Even though she ultimately did not end up with her child, I feel like the viewer can learn more about life from Joanna than from Ted.
Ending thoughts: my god, this was freaking good.
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