Day 26: Chicago

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.

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.

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.

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.

An Education

Nick Hornby, 2009ish

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.

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.

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.

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.

Day 19: The Wizard of Oz

Noel Langley, Florence Ryerson, and Edgar Allen Woolf, 1939

Armature: We all are searching for something we already have. Or, we must appreciate the things we have. Or, the things we want are in our own backyards.

7 STEPS GO:
1. Once upon a time Dorothy lived on a farm in Kansas with her family and her dog Toto.
2. And every day Dorothy was not listened to or appreciated by the people she lived with, and she wanted to run away.
3. Until one day, Dorothy is whisked away to the land of Oz, where she is told to find the Wizard in the Emerald City if she wants to find her way home.
4. Because of this, on her travels Dorothy meets a Scarecrow, a Lion, and a Tin Man who also want to see the Wizard.
5. Because of this the Wicked Witch of the West kidnaps Dorothy, but she is saved by the Scarecrow/Lion/Tin Man.
6. Until finally they reach the Wizard, who helps them find the qualities in themselves they are looking for. Dorothy goes home.
7. And ever since that day, Dorothy has appreciated her home as what she wanted all along.

What I realized while reading this screenplay was just how much of it is not that meaningful. What I mean is that this story has been so cherished and idolized and classicized that everything about it seems "special" in the media these days. Dorothy's red slippers? BEAUTIFUL! INNOCENCE! The Wicked Witch? MISUNDERSTOOD! The land of Oz? HAS A TON OF MYTHOLOGY BEHIND IT! I mean, heck. I come from the state of Kansas. There are books and musicals written about this world.

But the thing is, not much of it is really *that* special. Rather, the things that people usually remember about this story are more of what I like to call "necessities of the plot." Perhaps it's true that L. Frank Baum originally wrote this story about the economic crisis in America or something, and all of the characters were originally symbols of socio-economic classes. Apparently the slippers were originally silver, and stood for the silver standard. There was a grande metaphor behind everything. But in the screenplay, the story is not about the economy. The story is about four people searching for things they already have. All the decoration on top is really just... decoration, that is merely there to enhance the story's point.

Let me give a specific example. Dorothy's red slippers have been hyped up so much in our culture that I thought they were supposed to symbolize something. I thought they were red because they stood for her heart, or something romantic like that. But really the slippers are just a plot device. Dorothy only has them to give the Wicked Witch a reason to want to kill her. The Wicked Witch only needs to want to kill her so that Dorothy can get kidnapped, and realize how much she really wants to be home. This also gives the Lion, the Tin Man, and the Scarecrow an opportunity to use their supposedly-missing skills of courage, heart, and intellect in order to rescue her. Dorothy doesn't even need the slippers to get home; she's able to do that by desiring it, once she learns that home is what she really desires. So all the hype about the red slippers? There is nothing actually that significant about them. They only exist so that the witch's-castle-rescue-scene has a reason to exist. At least, that's what it seemed like to me.

This story is quite good. It's simple, it's elegant, and it's rather clever. But I think American culture has warped it in our minds a little bit, to cherish it for the wrong reasons. I don't think people love its message as much as they appreciate the dressing. Which is too bad.

Day 18: Tootsie

Larry Gelbart, 1982

Well. This is another one of those screenplays. I knew going into this one that it was gonna be hella good, which means I scrutinized every scene to try to understand its significance. There are some things I don't quite understand. There are some things I appreciate. Overall, I can tell that this is a very meticulously-crafted screenplay. But I can't completely learn from it after reading it just once. It isn't quite as straightforward as something like No Country for Old Men. Like Sunset Boulevard, I need to sit on this one and then see the movie and then sit on it some more and then reread the screenplay. And I don't want to judge it until then.

Still, I figured I should at least make a blog post that I read it, if only just to keep track.

I wonder if the mark of a good screenplay is that it makes me think? That I don't completely understand it the first time? Or I wonder if that's not a very good sign, and that means the writer wasn't as clear as he could be. Maybe I just have to be in the right mood to "get" everything.

Day 17: Sunset Boulevard

I haven't been marking any spoilers on this blog because I think to do so would just be silly. The whole point is to analyze things in order to learn, and I'm really more concerned about understanding what a story has to say than hiding the ending. Nobody has commented or anything, but if you're the kind of person who doesn't like to know the ending to any story and you also happen to be reading this blog, too darn bad.

Sunset Boulevard

Charles Brackett, Billy Wilder, and D.M. Marshman Jr, 1949

Armature: Substance is more important than style. Or, a poor life of value is better than an empty rich life.

7 Steps:
1. Once upon a time, Joe Gillis was a poor screenwriter who was desperately trying to get a job by producing a lot of crappy scripts.
2. And every day Gillis tried to get a break or borrow money from people to avoid the repo men.
3. Until one day, Gillis escapes the repo men by hiding out in the old mansion of Norma Desmond, an actress who clings to her days as a big star, and is forced to stay there.
4. And because of this Norma falls in love with him, and Gillis stays with her because he pities her and doesn't want to crush her false reality.
5. Because of this Gillis starts meeting up with Betty Schaefer, another writer, and the two meet up in secret to work on a potentially really good screenplay. Betty also falls in love with him.
6. Until finally Gillis tries to leave Norma's mansion to go live a more meaningful life, but is shot and killed before he can escape.
7. And ever since that day Norma has continued to believe she is a big star, though cameras only look at her because she is a murderer.

This movie is pretty good. Everything exists for a reason, all the fat is trimmed, things happen that support the armature. Things happen within the boundaries. The conflict is exaggerated to make a point. It's all solid.

But I gotta admit, I'm not moved by this story. Perhaps it's because I've never been exposed to the Hollywood world in a career sort of way, or perhaps it's because I already value the armature and so didn't feel like I learned anything from it. I can tell that it's saying something important. But at the end of the script, I didn't feel anything.

I'm not sure what else to say here. If anyone wants to read more on what's cool about this story, Brian McDonald can explain better than me. For now, I'll shelf this screenplay as one that I don't completely understand and will try to re-read later.

Day 16: Rear Window

John Michael Hayes, 1953

From reading the Wikipedia article on this film, I think it's historically significant. It seems like this was the first film to explore the ideas of voyeurism and suspecting your neighbors. So that's pretty neat.

I feel similarly about these movie as I feel about Psycho. Like, I feel like it's culturally significant, but reading it now, it doesn't seem... that great? Or very new?

To be honest, finishing this screenplay didn't really make me feel anything. I didn't feel amazed, or amused, or touched, or even bored. I just felt impartial. It certainly wasn't a bad screenplay, but it didn't wow me.

So I'm not going to write an extensive review or analysis until I can appreciate it more, because I really feel like I should. Maybe I'll try watching it, or reading it again sometime. Maybe I'll ask a film student for help.

Day 15: No Country For Old Men

Joel and Ethan Coen, 2006

Armature: The world has a harshness that can't be stopped. Or, there will never stop being savagery in the world.

7 Steps:
1. Once upon a time Sheriff Bell wanted to hold off the evils of the world, so he became a Sheriff at the young age of 25.
2. And every day, he dealt with terrible crimes that seemed to have no point.
3. Until one day, the man Llewelyn Moss stumbles across an abandoned murder site and steals a case full of $2 million.
4. Because of this, Anton Chigurh hunts him down and finds him. Sheriff Bell, meanwhile, investigates it all.
5. Because of this Moss tries to run, but is inevitably killed.
6. Until finally, Chigurh kills Moss' wife because he once said he would.
7. And ever since that day, Sheriff Bell has retired.

This is quite the pessimistic screenplay. It moves me because it's terrible. It's rock-hard and serious and terrible, and makes me fear mankind a little. But I will say some things about it, because the fact that it makes me feel that way means it has done its job.

The Coen brothers really know how to tell a story visually. Most of this movie is not dialogue. The Coens have incredible control over what shots they want, and they describe almost every shot in the screenplay. They only include shots that are absolutely necessary. They recognize that the audience is smart, and can put 2 and 2 together. A lot of writers/directors do not have that much trust in the audience's abilities. The plot is also really quite straightforward, so there is nothing complex that needs to be explained through dialogue.

The Coen brothers understand that a complex story is not what makes a story powerful. The plot of this film is pretty simple and straightforward, but the audience is on edge the entire time. Nothing is skipped over, and nobody is giving long exposition speeches. Everything that must be shown is shown, and that is plenty.

This is how you make something simple into something powerful.

I also love just the format of this film in general. The main character is not Llewelyn Moss, it is Sheriff Bell. We hear a voice-over from Bell at the beginning to establish the beginning of his tale. The chase between Moss and Chigurh is the meat of the plot, but it is only significant because it is means something to Bell. When Moss dies, it's okay. We are affected by it, and maybe even surprised, but we aren't sad about it. Because Moss isn't the main character, and neither is his wife.

Perhaps a better way to phrase it: Moss is not the character of change. We don't even get resolution with what happens to Chigurh, because the justice of what happens to him isn't the story's point. Chirgurh is more of a tool to demonstrate Bell's fears about the cruelty of the world that he cannot hold at bay.

I wonder why the Coens chose to write a story about this.

Day 14: Forrest Gump

I have never seen this movie before. I actually knew very little about it, up until a few hours ago. I knew that it was a classic, and that Forrest does a lot of running. So I wasn't prepared for what this script was going to tell me, and it caught me off-guard and moved me. A lot.

Armature (Just ripping this right out of the script, because I can't say it better than Forrest): I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it's both.

Several things happen in the script that support this armature. There are two characters who each express their opposing opinions on destiny, and several events happen that seem to support each opinion. But what gets me most about this armature is the meta way that the script demonstrates it.

This script begins with a feather that floats around and lands on Forrest's shoe. I thought it was a really great opening shot, because it set the viewer up for a story about a man who wanders all over through life. But at the end, Forrest tosses aside the feather and it floats away, and the camera follows it. This strongly implies that we, the viewers, have been following the feather through the whole story, not Forrest. We began with the feather, and we listened to Forrest's life story as he told it because we were still with him. But when he lets the feather go, we leave Forrest with the feather.

We are the feather. This story is about us, not about Forrest.

And this armature applies directly to us. Forrest has a beautiful life story, but in the end, he's just one more person we encounter as we float through our own lives. We find Forrest, spend some time with him, and then leave him. Just like Forrest found and left all those things he encountered in his life.

This means that the movie is going one step beyond what a lot of movies do. It is my belief that a good movie (or just a good story in general) tells you something meaningful about your life. You learn from the movie by connecting with the characters, and you (as a viewer) learn something by watching the characters change and grow. But this film takes it further. Forrest Gump is directly reaching out to us, the audience, and applying the lesson to our own lives.

This explains the entire format of the movie. Most of it is Forrest narrating his life as people listen to him on a bus stop bench. Why would this be the format? Why does Forrest need to narrate everything, when we could just as easily see it for ourselves? Why do people keep listening to him? These scenes are including us, the audience, as listeners in his story. We, as the feather, are also watching him as he talks, and listening to what he has to say. Just like if we were to meet him in person. Those people who miss their buses to hear his story are just like us as we watch the movie. But life goes on, and Forrest leaves his listeners as the bus stop, and leaves us when he shakes the feather away. And we leave him when the movie is over.

Heck, the title of the movie even supports this concept. "Forrest Gump" is the name of the man who tells us his story the whole time. It's like a label of someone you can talk to if you choose to drift by him, like labeling the coffee shop or the street you're on. As if to say, "In these two hours, your life will pass by Forrest Gump." The title is not something creative and meaningful, it's just a label.

The more I think about this screenplay, the more I respect it. I strongly believe that a powerful story is best told by just saying what you mean to say, and letting style follow. This movie does just that. A counter example would be something like Moonrise Kingdom, which has more focus on style.

One of my favorite quotes is from Brian McDonald's book "The Golden Theme": "Art is not to show people who you are, it is to show people who they are. If the artist digs down deep inside, finds the deepest part of himself, and exposes it to the world, the artist will disappear and the audience will only see themselves." I think Forrest Gump proves this quote exceptionally.

Day 13: The Big Lebowski

The Coen brothers, undated

I feel a little foolish admitting this, but I honestly have no idea what I just read. This script seemed to have no point whatsoever. I don't actually know what was the primary conflict, and what was the climax, and why it resolved the way it did.

Was it a Dude vs. Walter thing? Why did Donny die? Why was there that crazy fight with the Germans? Why was the narrator even a character at all? I don't... I don't understand.

The wikipedia page had a quote from Joel Coen that this movie "has a hopelessly complex plot that's ultimately unimportant." So does that mean the plot didn't even matter? What was the point of this movie? Was it about the Dude's journey of... becoming more... something?

Maybe I need to see it to understand it. Someone please help me out here. I am so confused.

Day 12: ParaNorman

Chris Butler, no date given

What I love about animated movies is how they can tell a powerful message through an exaggerated situation. Movies shot with actors are reaching that point, with CG and everything nowadays. But the medium of animation allows for just about any kind of special effect, or any kind of strange world. ParaNorman is animated because it can tell its simple message under the dressing of some beautiful effects and a wonderful visual style.

Armature: Sometimes when people get scared they say and do terrible things. (Norman literally states this in the climax.)

7 steps:
1. Once upon a time, 11-year-old Norman could speak to ghosts.
2. And every day he was picked on by people at school, and even by his own family.
3. Until one day, the witch who was buried in the town long ago wakes up (along with all the zombies buried with her), and Norman is told by his mysterious uncle that he is the only one who can put her back to sleep.
4. Because of this, Norman and a few others (who don't really understand what's going on) go to the town hall to find out where the witch was buried, while the town forms an angry mob to fend off the zombies.
5. Because of this, Norman receives a vision and understands that the zombies need Norman's help to stop the witch.
6. Until finally Norman goes to the witch's grave, and instead of putting her back to sleep for a hundred years he talks to her and puts her to rest for good.
7. And ever since that day, Norman's family has been more understanding of him.

I'm a bit fascinated by this story because the main character is not actually the character of change. The characters of change are actually everybody except Norman. The antagonist changes when Norman gives her understanding instead of fear. The townspeople change when Norman finally gets them to listen to the zombies' plight. Norman himself is more like the embodiment of a solution to the armature. Norman is like the wise sage who teaches his wisdom to others through his actions.

But Norman is only 11 years old. Isn't that interesting?

Also, the people in this movie are not portrayed very well. They are all characterized by their fakeness, their vanity, their impatience, their selfishness. And once Norman solves everything and they being to understand, the townsfolk still do not admit their own fault. The people are ugly and imperfect. But Norman does not feel he needs to make everyone better people, he just wants to make them listen and understand. In fact, he accepts that others are mean and cruel. But he knows that doesn't mean he should be the same way. Thinking about it this way, this film is actually quite the impressive critique on our society.

I wish I could say more good things about this movie, but it really just explains itself quite well. ParaNorman is exceptionally well written and I wish more people would see it. It has some powerful lessons worth learning.

Day 11: Sideways

Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor, 2003

I am not sure how to feel about this one. I just finished it a few minutes ago and I feel like I really need to think about it.

It must be infinitely easier to understand a movie when you're watching it, instead of reading it. Because I know there has to be something awesome about this screenplay, because it's number 90 on the list of top 101 screenplays of all time. It's listed higher than "Grapes of Wrath," which I loved. Something about watching a movie allows you to keep track of events better than reading, because it's easy to zone out while reading. Or maybe I'm just making up excuses.

Why am I not sure how to feel about it?

Well, it's a comedy movie. A few events happen that would probably be funny to see, but everything seems serious when you read it (in my opinion, at least). So I can't tell if what parts were supposed to be funny and what was dramatic. Secondly, I can tell that the writers really knew what they were doing. There are some really good moments. A few shots are composed really well, and the visual metaphor of the main character's anxiety being like tightrope-walking is pretty smart.

But, you see, I'm not completely sure what it's about. I think it's saying something like "seize life" or "don't let the good things pass you by," but I really am not sure. I know Miles was the main character, going through some kind of change involving seizing the day. But I don't really know why Jack was a character, or what his purpose was. I think he was to show contrast to Miles and convince Miles to do some stuff, but overall he seemed to be kind of insensitive to Miles' troubles. So what purpose did he serve?

I... don't know. I think I need to read this script again, or see the movie or something, so I can understand it better. I just feel.. puzzled.

Day 10: Paper Moon

Alvin Sargent, 1972

You guys. I can't. I just finished this script a minute ago and oh god it is so good, it makes me tear up. I just. Ahh it is so good. Brian McDonald recommended this one, and I am so glad I finally read it. I'd really like to see it in movie form, too.

Armature: Family comes from relationships, not necessarily blood.

Before I try applying the 7 steps, I first want to mention what I love about this script. It is just so simple. The story is simple: a young girl spends some time with her maybe-father and, after a series of events that bond them together, chooses him as her family over her stranger blood relatives. There really isn't much to it. Moze and Addie dislike each other in the beginning, but steadily help each other out and, by the end, come to need each other.

This simplicity is what's so beautiful. There is nothing extraneous in this story. No time is spent on Addie's pre-Moze life, because it doesn't matter. There is no explanation of what the two of them do after the climax, because it doesn't matter. We never even find out if Moze is actually Addie's father, because it doesn't matter. Only the plot points that bring the two closer are included, because those make the story.

The problem with a lot of movies nowadays is that they feel they must be complex to be good. I strongly disagree with this idea. Simplicity and precision gets the armature across better, and thus makes a more satisfying movie. Paper Moon proves that.

This script is also brilliant at precision in visual storytelling. So many ideas get across without any speech. All of the reasoning behind Moze and Addie's con schemes are explained visually. The bible-selling sequence is the best example of this. That kind of precision takes a lot of skill to construct.

7 Steps:
1. Once upon a time, the con man Moze Pray is stuck transporting his potential daughter Addie to her nearest blood relatives after her mother dies.
2. And every day Moze makes money by conning people, trying to make enough to pay back Addie.
3. Until one day, Addie helps Moze in his cons and helps make them more money.
4. Because of this, Addie helps Moze in business and keeps him from losing all his money to a gold digger.
5. Because of this Moze and Addie get in over their heads with the law and lose everything.
6. Until finally, Moze takes Addie to her welcoming blood aunt, but Addie runs away and finds Moze again.
7. And ever since that day the two have stayed together as family.

As usual, I'm not sure how the 7 steps apply here. It's arguable that step 3 ("until one day") is actually when Moze gets initially stuck with Addie, or when Moze steals Addie's $200 and she calls him out on it. The reason I think that Addie helping Moze in his bible cons is step 3 is because that seems to be a major turning point in their story and relationship. That's the moment that their father-daughter relationship begins to build.

There doesn't actually seem to be a large act 1 in this movie. That's more of why I put that step 3 there. The exposition comes across pretty fast in the first scene, but the couple scenes after that (Moze trying to get money out of someone, Addie being stubborn about her $200) continue to establish some character traits. So perhaps those scenes could still be part of act 1.

Hmm. Well. I feel like placing exactly the right scene on each step is overall less important than understanding that the focus and precision in this script is what makes it really good.

Day 9: Hannah and Her Sisters

Woody Allen, 1980something

I started this one two or three days ago... and I just can't finish it. I can't. I don't get it. I don't get it at all.

It follows several characters who are slightly related. Two of them are having an affair. One is struggling with that psychological thing that makes you always think you have a disease. Another is... I don't even know. In a bad relationship, or something.

I put it down two days ago because relatives came in town. Tried to pick it back up today, but I just couldn't. There is nothing about this screenplay that makes me want to keep reading.

Not that it's bad. I mean, this is Woody Allen. This is on the list of top 101 screenplays of all time. There has to be something good about it. But I'm honestly just bored of it. It doesn't entertain me. It doesn't interest me at all. I keep trying to read it, thinking there's something great about it. But I would just rather stop wasting my energy and stop reading.

The dialogue bugs me a lot. I know it shouldn't, because the underlying story is what matters. But Woody Allen's style of multiple people talking at once, and lots of stuttering, is just obnoxious to read. So obnoxious. Seeing this in movie form might be better, I don't know.

If anyone knows why this screenplay is good, please tell me. I want to appreciate it for being good, but I just can't force myself to get through it. I want to understand.

Day 8: The Grapes of Wrath

Nunally Johnson, c. 1940

I didn't understand the point of this script until I reached the climax. Sometimes that happens. You don't understand where something is going until it reaches its destination, and then it all clicks.

Armature: We are all the same. (aka the Golden Theme, and my favorite armature ever)

7 steps:
1. Once upon a time, the Joads lived in Oklahoma during the depression.
2. And every day people were getting kicked off the land because there was no money to sustain them all.
3. Until one day, Tom Joad gets home from 4 years of jail, along with the ex-preacher Casey, just as his family has to leave their home to seek work in California.
4. Because of this, the family drives to California to find work.
5. Because of this, Casey dies while trying to change the problem of nobody being able to make enough money to live.
6. Until finally, Tom leaves the family to seek change as Casey did.
7. And ever since that day the Joads have been strong, and taken life as it comes.

Okay, so maybe I suck at applying the 7 Steps to things. It's hard for me to nail down the two biggest "because of this" moments. It's also hard to simplify everything down to just a sentence or two. I haven't figured out yet how to summarize a long plot efficiently, and show the armature in there at the same time. So... sorry for sucking.

This script is really interesting to read after the Mamet one I read yesterday, because it's a completely opposite style. The Verdict was very much cinematography-driven. There were explicit descriptions of shots in the script. This one is about 40 years older, and is mostly made of dialogue. Just like Steinbeck's writing, I guess. There are some descriptions of locations, but not even setting headers. The story still gets across so well, though. The meat of it all comes from the things people say, because that's the important thing here.

This movie is trying to tell us that we are all the same. I'm sure of it. I almost can't even explain it because it seems to apparent to me. The reader (or viewer, whatever) sympathizes so strongly with these human, working-class people and understands their situation so well. At first it just seems to be a historical movie about the trials and tribulations of a family from the dustbowl, but then the ending happens.

I can't summarize it well enough to do it justice. I'm just gonna copy it here.

MA
(after a pause) How'm I gonna know 'bout you? They might kill you an' I wouldn't know. They might hurt you. How'm I gonna know?

TOM
(laughing uneasily) Well, maybe it's like Casy says, a fella ain't got a soul of his own, but on'y a piece of a big soul--the one big soul that belongs to ever'body--an' then...

MA
Then what, Tom?

TOM
Then it don't matter. Then I'll be all aroun' in the dark. I'll be ever'where--wherever you look. Wherever there's a fight so hungry people can eat, I'll be there. Wherever there's a cop beatin' up a guy, I'll be there. I'll be in the way guys yell when they're mad--an' I'll be in the way kids laugh when they're hungry an' they know supper's ready. An' when our people eat the stuff they raise, an' live in the houses they build, why, I'll be there too.

And that's how I know. This story isn't about a family trying to make their way anymore. This story is about people. Being part of a greater whole. All being in it together. All being the same. When I got to this part, it hit me like a ton of bricks, and I teared up.

Even just the fact that it did that to me is proving its own armature. This was written in 1940, and when I read it in 2013 I feel sympathy and understanding. People have not changed in 80 years. Isn't that incredible?

I enjoyed this book when I had to read it in high school, and I enjoyed this screenplay just as much. Everyone should read this.

Day 7: The Verdict

I'm going to start reading some screenplays from the WGA's list of 101 best screenplays, along with a friend of mine. He's about 7 or 8 ahead of me on the list, so I have some catching up to do. But here's the one he's reading this week.

The Verdict

David Mamet, 1982

I don't think I "got" this one. Meaning, I don't think I fully understood it.

I don't know too much about David Mamet, but I mentioned before that I read a book by him that talked about the juxtaposition of shots and how they can effectively, and elegantly, tell a visual story. I can tell by reading this screenplay that Mamet is very much a "the viewer is smart and can figure it out" sort of guy. Things were not explained very clearly, and everyone's dialogue was cut off by ellipses and interruptions. I feel like there was rarely a full sentence said by anyone in this script.

I could overall understand what was going on in terms of the plot. Mamet did do an excellent job of efficiently explaining the first act in several well-composed shots. But when it came to the specifics, I had to read a wikipedia summary because I couldn't follow. I felt like keeping up was hard. It would have been so easy to miss a detail and not understand a reference if I was watching this in movie form.

Also, for some reason the main character's name changed halfway through. First it was Frank Galvin, and then it was Joe Galvin? Why did that happen??

Armature: Something having to do with changing your life, or doing what's right. I'm not too sure.

7 steps:
1. Once upon a time, Frank Galvin was a great lawyer until he got screwed by his offices and lost his job and his wife.
2. And every day he drank and moped around and was an "ambulance chaser."
3. Until one day, his friend Mickey gets him a case that he believes he can win if he takes it to trial, thanks to the testimony from a witness.
4. Because of this, the defense lawyers make that witness disappear, with the help of a woman spying on Galvin.
5. Because of this, a desperate Galvin manages to track down a witness who will make his case.
6. Until finally, the jury is persuaded by that witness's testimony and... I think they make him win? I didn't really understand.
7. And ever since that day Galvin has.. had a new lease on life?

As you can see, I had a tough time reading this one. Oh well. Hopefully I'll like tomorrow's screenplay better.

Day 6: Amadeus

This is a long screenplay. I haven't seen the movie for years, so I forgot just how long it is. It definitely took something like 3.5 hours to read. But it was really worth it, because it's so brilliant.

Amadeus

Peter Shaffer, 1980something

Armature: Are all men really equals?

7 Steps:
1. Once upon a time, Salieri left his home upon his father's death to study music.
2. And every day he composed all types of music for his patron, Emperor Joseph of Vienna.
3. Until one day, Salieri sees Mozart, a well-known musical genius, for the first time goofing off before one of his concerts.
4. Because of this Salieri swears to ruin Mozart.
5. Because of this, Mozart's life steadily spirals out of control after his father dies.
6. Until finally, Mozart dies while working on a funeral mass commissioned by Salieri himself.
7. And ever since that day Salieri has wallowed away, alone, resentful of Mozart and god's cruelty.

The best part of this movie is something Brian McDonald pointed out to me a year ago: the framing device. Old Salieri narrating the whole time allows the audience to understand some of his inner thoughts. It also, more importantly, allows the plot to be completely set up in the first five minutes, without the audience even knowing. Salieri plays some of his music to the priest, which the priest does not recognize. But when Salieri then plays something from Mozart, the priest instantly lights up with recognition.

BOOM.

The plot of the movie. Right there.

Now the audience knows exactly what is going to be discussed here. Exactly what's going to happen, exactly what the problem is. Before the plot has even started.

The following act 1 is also pretty impressive. There are a lot of scenes that show the contrast between Salieri and Mozart. In one scene, Salieri is shown using his free time to compose music alone in his study, which is then contrasted with a shot of Mozart purchasing elaborate wigs and laughing. In another scene, Salieri states that teaching Emperor Joseph's niece about music would be an honor, while the next shot has Mozart declaring that such a thing is beneath him.

The best part is the scene where the two first officially meet. Salieri composes a piece that Emperor Joseph plays as Mozart enters the room. Mozart then memorizes it after one listen, and proceeds to sit down at the piano and make it better. There is no practical reason Salieri would actually compose that piece on a spur-of-the-moment. The only reason that happens is to reinforce that Mozart is apparently a better musician than Salieri ever could be. If that isn't amazing writing, I don't know what is.

The audience is subconsciously told over and over again that Mozart is incredible, but a disgusting human being. This is exactly Salieri's opinion. It leaves the audience wondering, are the two men really equal? Is one better than the other? Does Salieri need Mozart's affirmation to be considered a great musician?

This is the point of the movie. This is its armature, to get the viewer to wonder that.

There a plenty of other things about this screenplay that contribute to its greatness. Tons of tiny details are equally well thought-out, but you guys can find those things on your own. I'm ending this post with some of my favorite armature-enforcing lines.

Old Salieri looks at him in contempt. Then he turns away back into the room, shutting the window with a bang. Through the glass, the old man stares down at the group of onlookers in the street. They stare back at him in confusion.

BYSTANDER
Who is that?

VALET
No one, sir. He'll be all right.

---------------

OLD SALIERI
Do you know who I am? You never heard of me, did you?

VOGLER
That makes no difference. All men are equal in God's eyes.

OLD SALIERI
Are they?

----------------

OLD SALIERI
I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint. On their behalf I deny Him, your God of no mercy.  

Day 5: Moonrise Kingdom

I have to start this post off by saying that the screenplay for Moonrise Kingdom, while great on its own, is simply no substitute for seeing the movie. The music, the cinematography, and the editing really contributed to the storybook-like atmosphere. The entire time I read the screenplay I couldn't help but think back to what the scene looked like visually. So without even talking about the story yet, I know that I've learned something from reading this screenplay: a film is more than just its story. Though the story is really the most important thing (in my opinion, at least), the other aspects of the medium (like lighting, camera angles, costumes, music) really do contribute a lot to the overall experience. You can't expect to make a film with just a screenplay.

Moonrise Kingdom

Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola, 2011

Armature: Freedom is necessary for growing up. Or, dreaming big makes life better. Or, life needs freedom.

To be honest, I'm not completely sure what the armature of this film is. It moves me, so I know it's saying something important. I think it has something to do with freedom and youth because the primary conflict is between the two children Sam and Suzy, who are both kind of depressed and trapped in a boring life on a tiny island, and the adults of the island who all live boring lives on a tiny island and want to control them. Sam and Suzy try to run away several times and dream of bigger things, like magic powers or leaving the island. Then there's also the big symbol: Moonrise Kingdom is the small cove where Sam and Suzy escape for a short time, and get to be themselves and do whatever they want. This area represents freedom from their boring lives and controlling parents (or, in Sam's case, his unfriendly Scout mates).

The other characters also express discomfort with their lives and a desire for something better. Mr. and Mrs. Bishop, Suzy's parents, are in an unhappy marriage. Mrs. Bishop is having an affair. She also lets it slip once that she doesn't know how she ended up here. Scout Master Ward desperately wants to be a good leader for his scouts, but when they all start running away to help Sam and Suzy he doesn't know what to do with himself. Being a Scout Master is the only thing he has. Which, when you think about it, is pretty hollow.

The visual style of the film (which is not present in the screenplay, but I remember it from seeing the movie a year ago) also reinforces the idea that everyone's lives are boring. The composition of every shot is symmetrical and even. Monotonous, perhaps. The colors are a bit desaturated and bland.

What makes me unsure is the ending. Sam and Suzy stop running away when Sam is taken in by Captain Sharp, the local sheriff. The final scene shows Sam sneaking away from Suzy's house (implying that her parents don't know he's there) and back to Captain Sharp, who's waiting to take him home. This seems to mean that the two are now okay with their situations. Suzy is okay with living with her parents as long as Sam gets to secretly visit, and Sam is okay with the sympathetic and helpful Captain Sharp.

Maybe this means that what they really needed was to be loved? Suzy's parents don't really come off as loving, and Sam's previous foster parents certainly weren't. The two escape to Moonrise Kingdom where they can freely love each other, and then even "get married" later. The final part of the climax even has Captain Sharp holding on top Sam and Suzy as they hang above the rushing flood, and he says "Don't let go." This definitely symbolizes how he's reaching out to them now.

Hmm. Perhaps the armature is a combination of the two ideas. It could have something to do with both freedom and the desire to be loved.

In any case, here are the seven steps. Luckily, the plot of this film is pretty simple.

1. Once upon a time on the small island of New Penzance, an orphan boy named Sam lived in a scout camp, and a girl named Suzy lived in a house with many siblings. They met at a church play.
2. And every day the two sent letters to each other and grew close from talking about their various difficult life problems.
3. Until one day, Sam and Suzy met up and ran away together.
4. Because of this they were found and caught by the Scout Master, Captain Sharp, and Suzy's parents.
5. Because of this Sam and Suzy tried to run away again with the help of the Khaki Scouts, but get stopped by a large storm.
6. Until finally Captain Sharp willingly takes Sam into his custody just before the two can jump into a rushing flood to escape from being caught.
7. And ever since that day Sam has been able to visit Suzy in secret, with Captain Sharp helping him.

The thing I appreciate a lot about this movie is something I learned from reading the book "On Directing Film" by David Mamet. In this book, Mamet talks about visual storytelling being the juxtaposition of images in sequence. The audience learns what is happening by seeing several images in a row, not by things being explained. Mamet teaches how to be simple and precise in each shot to tell a good story.

Brian McDonald also talks about (in "Invisible Ink," if I remember correctly?) how the audience is smart. You don't need to reveal all the information right at once. Just tell them what they need to know when it's necessary.

What this movie does really, really well is both of those things. It tells you more information as the movie goes on, instead of overloading exposition right at the beginning. The audience is smart and can piece things together slowly. Only enough information is given to get the point across, nothing more. For instance, the story is about Sam and Suzy trying to escape their boring lives, but we don't even see either of them for awhile, or understand why they try to run away until even later. But that's okay. We are told enough. We are never left wondering "why" because we know enough.

Lessons learned from Moonrise Kingdom:

1. The screenplay must be good, but just a screenplay is not enough to make a movie.
2. Reveal information to the audience slowly.
3. But tell them enough to let them understand.
4. Embrace the ridiculous if it's effective for your story. Ex: making everything feel like a storybook, treating a marriage between children as serious business, etc.

Day 4: Spirited Away

Well hey, blog! It has been a whole school year full of a double-major's worth of work, and now it's summer and I'm ready to work on my storytelling skills again. I'll be taking some classes again this summer, but hopefully they won't take too much of my time.

The day numbers at the top of each post are a little misleading. They're more like script numbers, not numbers of consecutive days. But oh well. BTW, this blog post might be a little long because I'm fascinated by how awesome this movie is and I need to talk about it.

Spirited Away

Hayao Miyazaki, 2001

So, I'll admit, I couldn't actually find a screenplay for this. Perhaps I could if I did a little more digging, but I'm lazy. I watched the movie last night for the 100th time, and for the first time it occurred to me what this movie is actually about. The difference is that this time I watched it through the eyes of a storyteller, so I could spot all the things that made it so moving to me as a child.

Armature: Growing up takes inner strength. Or, independence comes from strength of the self. Or, selflessness gives power. Or maybe, We are all the same. (Which is the Golden Theme, by the way).

This is a difficult armature to summarize because I don't think it can be explained in just a sentence. There are various themes going on that all support the same idea, and I'm having trouble synthesizing them in my head. Perhaps I just need to sort out my thoughts first.

The 7 steps:

1. Once upon a time, the whiny, selfish Chihiro was forced to move to a new town.
2. And every day she depended on other people and complained about her situation.
3. Until one day, Chihiro's parents are taken from her and she is trapped by the evil witch Yubaba in a magic bathhouse for spirits.
4. Because of this, Chihiro is treated badly by the other workers but manages to single-handedly help out a troubled river spirit when put on the spot.
5. Because of this, Chihiro is pursued by the evil monster No-Face who feeds on the desires of others, but she faces him down and refuses his offering of wealth.
6. Until finally, Chihiro journeys away from the bathhouse to save her dear friend, and rescues her parents by correctly answering Yubaba's final challenge in an unusual way that requires strong will.
7. And ever since that day, Chihiro has had the strength to face her new life in a new town.

These steps are also a bit difficult to pin down, because just so many things happen in this movie. I don't think my skills as a storyteller are quite strong enough yet to be able to simplify it all. Well, anyway, that was a nice exercise, but here's what I really DO understand about this movie:

Chihiro begins as a weak character with little will and a lot of selfishness. She whines about moving to a new town, she whines about visiting the bathhouse town, and she's even too scared to wait by the car like she wants. But when she leaves, she is selfless, strong-willed, and in control of her own identity. Chihiro's transformation from a child into an adult is seamless and brilliant, and happens before the viewer even knows it, because the spirit world she gets trapped in is the perfect scenario to orchestrate this change.

Several things about this spirit world are thematically brilliant:

1. Yubaba is a witch who steals people's names. This is essentially equivalent to stealing their identities. People in this world can only leave when they remember their names, which is symbolic of their control over themselves. When Yubaba has their names they forget about their previous life and succumb to her rule, but when they remember they are able to leave. Chihiro forgets about her name even the morning after she loses it, symbolizing her inability to have control over herself. But at the end of the movie she proudly declares it to Zeniba, who remarks that it's a pretty name.

2. No-Face is a monster who has neither a face nor a name. He feeds off the identities of others, growing larger as he consumes people, and taking their body characteristics and voices. No-Face also sucks people in by feeding on their selfishness: he offers them gold (which turns out to be fake), and generally gives gifts to gain himself favor (like giving Chihiro all those bath tokens). He has no purpose and no sense of identity. Chihiro is able to conquer him by being selfless instead of selfish--she cares more about Haku than about a personal desire for gold.

3. Everyone in this story is selfish. All the workers look after themselves and rudely refuse the requests of other people. They all desire the gold that No-Face gives out. Chihiro's parents are punished because they selfishly eat food that is not theirs. Yubaba is primarily concerned with money, and even selfishly keeps her baby in a little room. It is the selfless characters who help Chihiro grow: Haku, Lin, Kamaji, Zeniba.

4. Chihiro gains followers in the people she stands up to. The baby is turned into a mouse that follows her around, and No-Face even comes with her to Swamp Bottom. Because Chihiro stood up to them and showed them her selflessness and strength of will, they followed her. Eventually they find identities for themselves, too: No-Face stays with Zeniba as a helper, and the baby stands up to his controlling mother. This is the biggest sign of Chihiro's transformation. She doesn't depend on other people anymore, other people depend on her.

5. Yubaba's final challenge requires Chihiro to identify her parents, who are not actually present. A weak-willed person might be confused and randomly pick something. Only a strong-willed person could have the resolution to know that her parents are not present. This final test is not even necessary, because by this time Chihiro has already defeated No-Face and gained the favor of everyone in the bathhouse. It does, however, show her change.

All these ideas contribute to the armature of "strength comes from within," or something like that. How do you put this transformation into a simple sentence? I still don't know. "Selflessness comes from strong will?"

Anyway. Now that I understand the change that happens in this movie, I appreciate it a whole lot more than before. Chihiro takes control of her name and her identity, shows an incredibly strong heart by standing up to overwhelming danger, and then focuses on saving another person instead of worrying about herself. This is an amazing coming-of-age story that actually has something concrete to say.

Miyazaki is a pretty brilliant storyteller.