Spring cleaning

Spring is upon us! Well, in the southern hemisphere anyway. A time when men think of football finals, pretty women and... cleaning?

Huh?

Yes, it is true. I'm getting a lot of practice at it - I spent most of Friday throwing out 9-10 years worth of work files. Ah, padlocked blue security bin how I love thee!

Giddy from this bout of corporate cleansing, I have spent the first few days of my post retrenchment freedom ridding my humble abode of:

- old hard copies of script drafts

- notes pertaining to the above

- notepads full of notes pertaining to the above pertaining to the above that

- newspaper clippings that inspired notes pertaining to... [fill in the rest at your leisure]

- old scripts and manuscripts from people, some of whom I don't even know

- programmes for amateur and professional theatre some of which I didn't like

- material from writing seminars, lectures and courses most of which I can't remember

- generic old crap ie everything else

Thank goodness it was bin day Tuesday as this has consumed the equivalent of two green wheelie bins. Not blue, not padlocked, not destined for shredding... but still, um, lovable?

The flip side to this is finding little gems I forgot I had stashed away under three inches of dust - namely other people's scripts, some of which I do want to re-read (I say re-read as I'm sure I read them all the first time... didn't I?).

Perhaps more excitingly, some of my old scripts that might help chart my progress as a writer. You know the feeling - some of it's pretty good, some's goddamn awful, nice idea here, overwritten up the wazoo there... but what it does do is rekindle the passion and enthusiasm for visual storytelling.

It's spring - brave the dust, toss the junk, relive the tentative first steps into a brave new screenwriting world! Once you've done coughing your lungs up (okay, there was a LOT of dust) you can move on to bigger and better things refreshed... and with more elbow room and shelf space!

My own 'Up in the Air'

No, nobody is ever going to mistake me for George Clooney - I am on the opposite side of the desk. Or if Anna Kendrick had her way, the computer terminal. Which is closer to what actually happened.

Tomorrow I come to the last day of my part-time job. Over twenty-one years with the same company over two stints and two cities. Tonight it all feels very surreal. Tomorrow, I clear out my desk, hand over my ID, access cards, all the work toys like mobile and laptop... and walk out the door for the final time. My safe little cocoon gone.

It's certainly a wake-up call.

And a great antidote for procrastination!

Conclusive evidence - polls suck!

My carefully constructed poll of Baldrickian proportions has only ended up ensnaring me with a TIED result! Cobb simultaneously returned to reality AND the whole thing was a dream!

Thank you contributors to my Inception poll - I am NONE the wiser :-)

I'm emailing the creators of Lost for the tiebreaker...

Three Act Structure for Beginners

Everybody else is having a go - laws, rules, theories, paradigms, tips, tweets and blogs relating to the craft of screenwriting - so I've jumped on the bandwagon!

Here now, my model for the aspiring screenwriter on how to understand and handle the three act structure:

Act 1 - Full of inspiration & energy

Congratulations! You've decided to write a feature script. Surely your ideas are better than that old tosh you saw at the megaplex the other night and/or your award winning short is wowing them on the festival circuit. Should be a snap to dash off your masterpiece. Inspiration - check; energy - check; self belief - off the charts.

Important things to remember:

Set-up: Have you got a really good laptop. I mean the sort that will draw envious glances from patrons of the upmarket cafe you intend to frequent? Screenwriting software - optional.

Character: Beret mandatory, scarf desirable, cocky attitude essential.

Theme: Does the screensaver of said laptop scream tortured artistic genius?

About halfway through the first act you should come to the Inciting Incident. This is usually where you tell your mum/partner/secret crush you are writing a feature script and she smothers you with (well deserved) praise.

This kicks you along to another important milestone --

The First Act Turning Point

This is often described as the page number past the length of your longest short film script. It signifies you have crossed the threshold into the special world of the feature script! Yes, it's really happening - you're writing a feature!

Act 2 - Wandering in the wilderness but still certain of success

Now you've crossed into this magical world you will discover vast tracts of barren pages waiting to be filled. This is where you need to be really carefully as a variety of archetypes lie in wait. Some of the common ones - procrastination, self-doubt, apathy, bewilderment and vacillation.

They will set increasingly difficult obstacles for you to traverse. Here you will come to embrace Allies such as caffeine, nicotine, red wine and, as you approach the midpoint of this desert, various illicit substances.

Be mindful though of shadow characters like Research that will appear to occupy you in useful activity but ultimately lead you away from your goal of adding tendrils of blackness to the whiteness of your life. Research has powerful vassals - Internet, Video store and X-Box whose siren calls may become irresistable. Stay alert!

Once you have navigated these treacherous parts the midpoint appears like an oasis. It is common at this time for your want to write a feature screenplay to be replaced by a need to --

- find gainful employment to pay the rent; or

- reintroduce yourself to loved ones; or

- start taking Vitamin D tablets.

It's all downhill from here - the slippery slide to death point and impending Second Act Turning Point. Everything turns to quicksand as you flail around desperately for character arcs, plot developments and heightened stakes. All seems lost - dreams of red carpet premieres. Imagined discussions on the chat show circuit. Yachts at Cannes. Big breasted starlets. Astronomical bank balances. All fading fast.

Never fear, such suffering is an essential part of the process. Wide-eyed and impotent in front of the keyboard at three in the morning, lost. Stakes are high. You really shouldn't have told your boss to [censored] during your First Act bliss. There's no turning back - you have to finish the damn thing!

Like a miracle, a helping hand will arrive to prod you into action and energise you for the final assault. Perhaps your mother/partner/secret crush will remind you of your undoubted potential for genius. Maybe one of your many allies finally kicks in before the paramedics arrive.

Act 3 - Mad Panic and dash to the finish

As the danger of mockery and being ostracised grows, you plunge head first into the final challenge where you ultimately overcome your flaw. Okay, maybe you did underestimate how hard this screenwriting lark was but damn it, you're determined to slay the dragon, sieze the sword and win the day.

Flush with new purpose you rise to the challenge and fingers fly over the keys. None of it makes any sense but that's not going to bother you until you get to peck out Fade to Black as you pass out unconscious on your laptop.

Well done. You have finished!

But WAIT... what's this nagging voice that whispers in your ear - "all writing is rewriting".

Bleary eyed you lift your head, untangle that tattered scarf and let out a feral bellow.

If you dare revisit the mess you have made, struggle to make it better, persist through every setback then you really will have crossed the threshold into a special world...that of being a screenwriter.

Inception Poll - The Aftermath

The blog posting on my Inception experience was met with a passionate rebuttal by local Perth film-maker Aaron McCann who raised several interesting points.

After scouring the net for answers I'll go see the film again with fresh eyes but I thought Aaron had three plausible explanations for what the ending meant.

This can only mean one thing - poll time!

So here are his three options (the rest of his rebuttal censored due to the fragile state of my ego!):

a) Cobb doesn't escape from limbo... we don't see the kick so maybe the ending is all in his head. I mean that would suggest that the top keeps spinning long after the credits roll. I mean we didn't see what happened when he last spun the top...

b) Cobb has completed his mission. Saito kept to his word and Cobb has returned home (the kids at the end are played by actors that are 2 years older than the actors playing the kids at the end) this would suggest that after the cut to black... the top fell over and Cobb's back to reality, he dodges a bullet.

c) The whole thing start to finish is a dream. His wife died in Paris, he's flying to LA to “go home”... his reality does seem like a dream and is refereed to as such. None of the other characters on the plane talk to Cobb at the airport. Almost like they are all strangers who just all shared a 1st class flight with each other.

Which one of these options do you believe best fits your interpretation of the film... or doesn't it matter? Please use the poll on the top left of the blog...

One thing I can't argue with is Aaron's summation:

"Inception is in no way a 'perfect' film. It has flaws. But a classic film, loved or hated, it will become a film that could, and should, revive the spec scripting market in the US as well as sell the idea that big, original, large scale films... can still have an audience".

Amen to that.

Inception - Idea as Virus

After Thursday morning's shock knocked me into my own dream state, I went along to see Inception.

Though I don't remember how I got there. The suspicion I was dreaming confirmed by this exchange immediately after purchasing my ticket:

Kid: Any drinks or popcorn with that?

Me: Medium combo, thanks.

Kid: Want to upgrade that for an extra dollar?

Me: Nah, I can't eat that much popcorn

Kid: I'll upgrade the drink for free then.

Okay, that's a dead giveaway! A partial free upgrade... at a candy bar... at the cinemas? Yeah, right! (ps well done kid, I was impressed). That and the fact the lobby was deserted (other than the two of us). Definitely dreaming.

Into the cinema I go. Now, I'm kind of fussy about where I like to sit - centre/centre - half way up and dead in the middle. The sweet spot...

Available! And the immediate zone free of seat kickers, inane talkers, mobile phone wankers & sundry other distractions that usually bug the hell out of me.

I am clearly in a deeper level of dreaming as the ads and trailers seem to go for like 30 minutes (surely ludicrous). I accept I'm probably still sitting at my desk at work, stunned and time has slowed here.

Then the movie starts. Excitement abounds. The internet chatter and reviews have been excellent. My mind, desperate for some serious diversion, is about to be dazzled...

But instead, something strange happens --

Someone's brought me down to this level of dreaming to insert the idea that this film is a complex mind-fuck of a masterpiece. And I'm not buying it.

On the surface it appears outrageously inventive, gloriously shot, well acted and demanding of my full attention to comprehend its secrets. But then it seems a simple heist story told in a very complicated way. And I simply don't care.

As the corporate induction video plays before my eyes explaining the rules of extraction and the theory of inception - with some practical exercises thrown in to demonstrate the principles - I start to wonder if I am being conned ala The Prestige.

Now, don't get me wrong, I think Christopher Nolan is an immense talent. I loved The Dark Knight (with a few quibbles), was astounded by Memento and think The Prestige is a handsomely crafted puzzle of a film... bar the ending. When I come to understand Nolan has pulled a magic trick on me... except the prestige doesn't have me on my feet applauding.

So now I'm thinking, this guy is smart and audacious, and he's trying to implant an idea in my mind with all these rules and pure exposition. Namely, that this is everything the hype says it is.

Why is my brain rejecting this carefully planned inception?

Well, I think it's because I don't really know who's doing what, why they are and what the actual stakes are. All I really know is that Cobb wants to go home and that Saito wants to fuck with his corporate rival. The latter feels like a pure McGuffin and therefore I am ambivalent about it. The Cobb-Mal thing seems underwhelming... he can't go back to the US because she killed herself but blamed him because... blah blah blah. I start having Shutter Island flashbacks.

As for everyone else - well, um, they are ... because they need to ... um? I dunno.

Then there's the whole mechanics of 'kicks' and sedatives and if you're killed you wake up, oh, except if you're [insert plot device explanation] in which case you go into 'limbo'. Which is a terrible, horrible, brain mulching place... that Cobb has been to before. Huh? So no real stakes then?

I have no idea what Joseph Gordon-Levitt's character was doing in zero-G other than he was doing "stuff". Related to some complicated timing issue re kicks? and gravity? No tension or suspense if it's not clear what his plan is. Just confusion.

The snow scenes - lots of people dressed the same shooting at each other. Okey-dokey. Then Cobb is back in limbo. Where we come to the ending... and the spinning totem... and the cut to black. Which only confirms that Nolan is fucking with me - was he still dreaming? You decide!

Sorry, No.

I can't be bothered because I don't care enough about the characters. Therefore I have no investment to work out the 'true meaning' of all the trickery no matter how apparently spectacular. I don't care about the internal logic and the kicks and the 'this and that' which has the internet groaning with theories and speculation.

I enjoyed the film as diverting entertainment that didn't treat me like a 12 year old. I didn't feel the running time so much which is a good sign. Most films these days being 20+ minutes over long. But the more I think about it, the idea that this is some modern masterpiece dissipates. Instead, a rogue idea - Nolan's 'puzzle films' make that other cinematic manipulator, M. Night Shyamalan's post The Sixth Sense films look amateurish.

So when I entered my own limbo - the queue at the IGA grocery store next door (surely limbo is waiting in a queue for the '12 items or less' checkout behind people who can't count) - I could feel the fingerprints of the master inceptor.

Perhaps I will watch it again when it comes out on DVD. Maybe I'll just sleep on it...

Dealing with Deadlines, Disappointments & Crises

I never set out to write a blog that espoused the do's and don'ts of screenwriting theory and good writing. There are far better qualified people - John August, Scott Myers, Karel Segers for example - who do that brilliantly with great authenticity, wit and skill. What I AM qualified to discuss is my personal journey in the wonderful world of film from an Australian perspective...

... and I gotta tell ya, it's been a rough month for various reasons.

My feature script didn't make the quarterfinals of Scriptapalooza which was a disappointment and abrupt reality check. I entered it after a burst of positive feedback that I'm now thinking gave me a level of confidence that was artificially inflated --

Complacency being the death of a screenwriter.

But I have a new draft to deliver so try and put the disappointment to one side and soldier on.

At present I'm deconstructing the entire script as the general consensus appears to be - well written, too complex, not commercial. The problem with that is, pulling out threads tends to unravel the whole piece as most of you would know. The other problem is time - deadlines loom and the brief of 'simplification' is turning into a major rewrite.

I'm actually enjoying the process - I'm throwing around scenes (for example, a scene that was near the end of Act Two is now the midpoint) but I'm running out of hours. The added pressure is that I have a director and producers waiting on pages to finalise a funding submission. If that wasn't bad enough life has been intruding in various ways - namely health and, as of today, work.

The health scare was prompted by a visit to a GP who I think was channeling Peter Lorre. Not my regular doctor mind you. He had the indecency to go on leave.

Me: I have this discomfort in my chest (points to area over the heart)

Peter Lorre: *manic laughter* then - Have you come from the Emergency Ward?

Me: (pondering this rather strange reaction/question) - a hesitant 'No'

Peter Lorre: Rate the pain from one to ten...

Me: Well, I wouldn't call it pain, it's more --

Peter Lorre: [Insert very long lecture about going to emergency whenever you feel chest pain] The only words I hear are: Heart and Attack... in that order

Me: Say what?!

Peter Lorre: nearly falling off his chair in a frenzy when he discovers I have a family history in this regard. More lectures. FINALLY takes out his stethoscope and checks chest.

Suddenly, we're discussing inflamed cartilage and ribs.

Me: Huh?

Peter Lorre: Just to be sure, we need to do an ECG.

Me: Okey dokey... so, not a heart attack then?

Peter Lorre: Probably not... but I'd like to be sure.

Me: thinking, you and me both, buddy!

On return from ECG...

Peter Lorre: Your blood pressure is a little high, but that's probably because you're anxious.

Me: YA THINK?!

Then a battery of subsequent tests - blood, cholesterol, stress ... a heart ultrasound. To which everyone doesn't seem too concerned (except possibly my bank manager). Appears I strained cartilage somehow in an area inconveniently over my heart. Tell you what though, a bloody big wake-up call to lose weight, eat properly and exercise more.

Through this - still writing.

Then today. Get in a little late to work - to find out my boss in Sydney has scheduled a phone hookup with me. Hmmmm, we spoke only yesterday... but there's a big hookup for later in the day announcing an organisational restructure. Stomach churning, make the call...

To find out I have been made redundant.

Start wondering what Peter Lorre would make of outbreak of new physical symptoms --

Me: stunned

Boss: attempts at calming platitudes

Me: jaw on floor

Boss: ... paperwork... ring me any time... 2 weeks... HR...

Call suddenly over and I'm gasping for air like a goldfish whose fish tank has been teleported to another universe.

Goodbye part-time job, goodbye some 22 years with the same company in two stints (yes, literally half my life... to this point), goodbye financial security and comfort zone.

Didn't feel like writing today.

Went to see Inception instead. Suitably complex enough to distract my brain from a whole lot of nasty - what the fuck do I do now? - type questions.

Deadline perilously close. People waiting on me and the new draft. Must write.

In fact, I suspect disappearing into a world of my own creation - Inception style - might be the best remedy. That and this blog posting.

People say you should write every day. But damn if it ain't hard some times...