Tag Archives: cinema

Screenwriting Issue of the Day

The Rewrite Workflow Labyrinth

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First, the good news: I’ve reached a magical milestone in my rewrite. I’ve completed a draft that, if a deadline were imposed on me today, I could submit without utter shame and embarrassment (only predominant shame and embarrassment).

This comes after a protracted slog to align the plot of my story to the point where a reader could get from Fade In to Fade Out, and and have a fairly clear sense of what had happened. The disposable henchmen have consistent names and actions despite their relative unimportance, the events of one scene don’t obviously counteract or undermine those of a previous one, the payoffs are more or less set up and vice versa, and the main characters are somehow different at the end than they were in the beginning as a result of what’s happened to them. (Of course, this is according to my own judgement of my own work. Am I right? That’s for the next guy to decide in the upcoming phase: getting external feedback.)

As I reach this point of the game, a lesson emerges that I believe will be of extreme importance to my career: How could I have gotten here sooner? What if I were on, say, a realistic professional screenwriting timeline? I’d need to come to these answers and solutions that I’ve pored over for months and months in a matter of weeks.

My process thus far has worked like this: write a draft, find a problem, brainstorm some solutions, mull it over, do other stuff while continuing to mull it over, brainstorm some more solutions, get inspired, rewrite the scene. Now, this has been a wonderful experience of exploring and cultivating my creative inspiration, but it’s not gonna cut in a business of strict, merciless deadlines. So…

This is the tough part when it comes to formulating some kind of regular streamlined system for working out these issues: it seems to be a highly subjective element. I’ve delved into many writing books and a few courses, and I’m afraid the magic bullet isn’t in there. While they do an awesome job getting us acquainted with structure, theme, characters, and all the stuff that makes up the initial steps of deciding what to write, banging out the first draft, and some very broad-stroke rewrite guidelines, they don’t quite get us to where we can confidently and consistently tackle and eliminate more intricate story problems with ease. I think the reason for this is that there is no magic bullet. There are likely as many workable processes for this as there are professional writers.

However, there’s more good news, maybe. I have no doubt I’ll be faster on my next script purely from some lessons learned on this one, even if I didn’t change anything about my process. Ironically, it seems that it’ll just take time and patience to get faster. But more importantly, perhaps the mere identification of this as a screenwriting puzzle to solve is a crucial first step. This awareness and the desire to work out an efficient scheme to put out the best material I can in short order should put me on the right track to improve this facet of my writing. After all, what else can I do about it?

How about you? What’s your rewriting system? What’s the big, obvious answer that I’m missing? Let me know below!

Screenwriting Issue of the Day

Too Many Steps?

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A movie is a story, and a story is a journey, right? We (usually) want to relate to a hero on a quest to accomplish something. We want to see the struggles, the triumphs, the defeats, the

levities, the tragedies, and the breakthroughs that befall our hero along every step of the odyssey. Well, surely not every step. And here

in lies today’s issue…

Am I including too many incremental nudges toward

the end game, and bogging down my plot?

There’s a fine line between showing what’s necessary, so as not to leave logic gaps and have the audience scratching their collective head, wondering how point A lead to this point C, without the necessary point B (and maybe also wondering why bother to continue reading/ watching); and slogging through mindless and unessential details, painstakingly and pitifully trying to address every last doubt about the story’s logical credibility and plead with the audience, “It all makes sense, I promise! Please like me, and my story!”

I’m just not sure where that line is…

Do we need to see the discovery, analysis, and follow-up of EVERY single clue in the course of the investigation?  Surely some can be implied, or presented in retrospective dialog (without being overly-expository, of course), but which ones? Where’s that threshold of relevance that tells me if it should be shown or referenced?

I’m going through my scenes, and attempting to elevate the drama in each of them to ensure that every moment matters, and I can’t help but question whether a few of them should just go. I know some schools of thought say that as soon as the question enters your mind, cut it; but I’m not so sure my instincts are honed to that level.

On this pass, my emphasis will be on making sure something (somewhat) vital is introduced into the story at each turn that we actually see (read). And, for now, I’m pretty much leaving it all in, because…

This puppy is almost ready for another set of eyes to scour it for faults. I’ll be trusting in that step to solve some of the aforementioned riddles. I’m just hoping for some sweet, sweet consistency in the notes, particularly about issues like this one. If three people are telling me that we don’t need to see the helpful rent-a-car clerk expounding that one suspicious transaction, then I’ll have my answer.

Anyway, your thoughts? Let me know below!

Movie Reviews

The Magnificent Seven Review: Who Are These Guys, Anyway?

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(Spoiler-free, until otherwise indicated.)

Well, let’s get this out of the way first; I’m a massive fan of Kurosawa’s original telling of this story in 1954, The Seven Samurai, and I think the first Magnificent Seven in 1960 is a clinical case study of how to modernize, remake, and refashion a great story for an expanded audience by preserving its potency and seamlessly adding some new qualities that make it a triumph in its own right.

In case you’re unfamiliar with this tale (I’ll reserve judgment), it centers on a rag-tag group of skilled but hapless gunfighters who agree to take on a long-shot mission to protect a poor village of defenseless peasants against a vicious criminal and his army of gunmen.

Upon hearing of this remake, I was beyond excited, for some very specific reasons. These days, remakes are spewing out of the studios like so many bodily secretions, but without the same fulfillment of an actual purpose. BUT, I arrived at the IMDB page of this announced production by scouring the upcoming projects of one Nic Pizzolatto, writer of True Detective: Season 1, one of the most incredibly-written, and virtuosically executed works ever produced. (Let’s not talk about Season 2.)

As the months tick by, I find out that the cast will be lead by Denzel Washington, reunited with director Antoine Fuqua and co-star Ethan Hawke from Training Day, along with Korean superstar Byung-hun Lee, Vincent D’Onofrio, Chris Pratt, the list goes on. Well, needless to say, I was over the moon. Let’s run through the inventory of gear this film was packing to make it great: a fantastic writer, a super-cool director, a killer cast, and a proven concept that had already been pulled off to perfection, twice! Was there finally going to be a movie in the theater that would be worth the price of admission?!

Then that first trailer hit…

I knew right away something wasn’t right. I can tell you the exact moment my dreams were shattered. It was Chris Pratt’s line, “God dangit, I’m good!” Ugh. We all know that one line of dialog, that is deemed to be trailer-worthy, can tell you volumes about a movie. This one belongs in such fare as The Expendables, or some other action romp that substitutes cornball quips for genuine character relationships and organic chemistry.

Aside from that, it looked really, really actiony, which… fair enough… it does all boil down to an epic throw-down between seven gunfighters and an army of bad guys. BUT… the flashy acrobatics and intricate choreography is more reminiscent of John Woo in his heyday, or the latest Fast and/ or Furious installment, than any of the greats in its own genre. (During the movie, it really bothered me that, in this world, it seems to be utterly impossible to re-holster a revolver without twirling it first.) These factors in that first peek were enough to shake my excitement. My expectations dropped through the floor.

So, how about what actually counts: the movie?  Well, surprisingly, it’s nearly the best case scenario…

I say ‘nearly,’ because best-case would’ve been that all that stuff in the trailer was entirely misleading and absent from the final film, leaving a rough and gritty Western about the bonds that form between warriors who have reached the limits of their ethical nihilism and unite for a common moral purpose, along with some stuff about redemption and revenge.

While I didn’t get that, I did enjoy it much more than expected, especially after the trailer and a pretty dismal first impression…

It opens with a display of cruelty by the villain against the town of sheepish innocents, that’s so hackneyed, clichéd and nauseatingly predictable, you could almost act it out right along with them.

But things look up after that and it plays out quite as expected. It’s a fun, action-packed ride with many enjoyable and satisfying moments, some low points that are nearly cringe-worthy, and not a lot of depth.

And that brings us to the real problem with the piece. This is where the original(s) truly shined, and what really left me wanting with this one: I didn’t get to know the Magnificent Seven.

This is a group of extraordinary men whose characters are defined by the decision, by each of them, to throw off a carefree frontier life and commit to a suicide mission. Why would they do that? What would change their minds? These questions are the real reason to watch this movie, and they’re mostly glossed-over in short exchanges of a few lines that end with the new recruit uttering “Okay, sure.” I need more than that to care about these guys when the bullets start flying.

Now, balancing this necessary proportion of character development between seven people in a 2-hour (+) movie is no easy task, but, as mentioned, there’s more than sufficient precedent showing it can be done!

(Spoilers ahead)

Of course, all seven guys don’t make it out alive. This type of story necessitates that they don’t. It’s a tale of self-sacrifice for an altruistic cause, or the ultimate test of one’s combative skills, however the individual character sees it. (The fact that we’re not sure which way most of them felt highlights the problem.)

In the original Seven, when the likes of Charles Bronson and James Coburn start getting picked off, I genuinely felt sad, because I’d learned enough about each of to have an emotional stake in their survival.

In this one, even the death of Ethan Hawke, the most fleshed-out among them other than Denzel, did nothing to me. So there was no chance of feeling anything when Vincent D’Onofrio, Chris Pratt, or Byung-hun Lee buy it.

(End of spoilers)

So, there you have it. Worth seeing? Sure. Will it meet the expectations of genre fans? No way. And with everything it had going for it, there’s no excuse for it not being an instant classic.