Fever Dream

I was in my house.  It was one of those situations where you've never been in the building before, but you intrinsically know that it's your home.  I was all alone, wandering the empty halls and rooms looking for something.  In the nursery, I found a chest.  In the chest were old yearbooks, photographs, and the thing I had been looking for:  A beat-up notebook.

I began flipping through the notebook.  It was filled with old and abandoned ideas.  There were story outlines, character descriptions, and questions that had once meant something to me but now I couldn't remember what they were connected to.  Exploring the notebook filled me with an intense melancholy.  There was so much unfulfilled potential.

Then, as if alive, the pages began pulling away from me.  They ripped themselves out of the book.  They began flying around the room.  As they flew, they filled the room.  It was an avalanche of ink-filled paper.  I tried to crawl to the door, but the ideas couldn't sustain my weight.  I began to sink.  I tried to swim,  but to no avail.

I woke up, sweaty and clammy.  My fever was broken and a deep, disturbing chill was clinging to my chest.

Mean Man & The Ruffians

How long has it been since the last Ruffians? Three months? . . . Nope. Just checked Vimeo. It's been four months. For a project that I said I wanted to shoot one a month, why's it taken me so long to follow up the third episode?

Two words: Mean. Man.

We filmed the short in the summer of 2007 and due to a long and convoluted story, it was never properly finished. That's been nagging at me for the past four years. Knowing that there was a project out there that I had begun, that I had invested time and money into and it was just sitting there, not being finished, it drove me a little crazy. So I decided that I was going to include snippets of Mean Man in episode 4 of The Ruffians. I was going to reveal that Charlie was something of a writer, working on a spec script in-between kills. It was going to be a somewhat lighthearted episode that would have ended in someone's homicide.

But I couldn't make it work. For the past four months, I have wrestled with this thing. I have tried to make it work and . . . it just couldn't. Mean Man kept trying to take over the episode and this episode of The Ruffians was suddenly no longer about Charlie, Alexander, or their hit list, but about this strange story that Charlie was trying to tell. It didn't make any sense, it didn't fit into the story, but I was relentless.

Until I relented. I finally admitted that it was just a bad idea that needed to go away. I slapped together a montage of the short film and posted it on Vimeo. That way, people could see what we worked on. I could get out from under its shadow. I could move on with my life. And, no kidding, within 24 hours of me making that decision, episode 4 of Ruffians opened up and revealed itself to me.

It's still going to be something of a strange episode, but I love it. It makes much more sense. It's internally consistent with the rest of the show. It's a little metaphysical (something I wasn't counting on), it's a little out-of-the-box, but I like it. I'm moving into pre-production now.

So stay tuned. There's at least two more episodes of The Ruffians headed your way.

Independent Film Scripts

Just finished watching Atlas Shrugged, Part 1. The movie had a smattering a problems -- and while, yes, many of them could be traced back to the book -- they could all be traced back to the script. There is absolutely no excuse for that.

The wonderful gift of being an independent filmmaker is that you don't have producers and studio execs asking questions like, "but what if she had a ditzy best friend? Ditzy best friends are hilarious. You know what's also testing really well right now? Chimpanzees. Can we have a scene with a chimpanzee in it?" These producers and execs mean well, but their interest is attracting more people to see the movie (and thus make more money), not tell a better story.

Being an independent filmmaker means you are in charge of the story. Nothing has to be put on the screen that you don't want there.

There are a lot of corners that have to be cut when you don't have studio backing. Not having the budget of Spider-Man 3 means you're probably not going to have a lot of CG action sequences. You're going to have to be thrifty with your time and money. You might not be able to afford sets, lighting, or film. And so you plan your shoot accordingly.

But you know the one thing that's not affected by the budget? The script. The script is free. The CG antics might need to be reduced and the number of locations might need to be reconsidered, but the story, as it's written, doesn't cost a dime. The dialog can be polished ad nauseum. As the screenwriter, you may have a deadline, and you may be working with people who have a very specific film in mind, but you really have no excuse for churning out a lackluster script.

The script should shine above all other things. The lighting and the acting and the locations should fail the script. The script shouldn't fail the actors. Walking into an independent film, the audience expects not-the-best acting and not-the-best lighting. So impress them with your script. Show the audience why this movie got made. Because if your movie has not-the-best lighting and not-the-best acting and not-the-best sound and not-the-best camera work and not-the-best script . . . then what is there to enjoy?

what's in a name?

If there's one thing that will stop me cold, it's a name. I need a character's name before I can give them things to do or say. Even if I know what they're going to say and/or do in that scene, I can't write it until I know that character's name. It's the closest thing to writer's block I really struggle with. Names are important to me -- especially if it's a name of a main character. If, what I'm writing becomes something people talk about, who do I want them discussing? Clark and Lois? Han and Leia? Christian and Satine? Also, while I'm writing this, these characters are going to be taking up a lot of time and space in my brain. Do I really want to be spending the next month, months, or year with Craig?

Once a name clicks, I understand the character a little bit better. It's my experience that people not only define their names, but are also defined by them. For example, I have found every Scott I've ever met to be a little weird and I've never gotten along with a Scott*.

But if I was writing a slightly odd character, a sincere fellow with quirky asides, I might consider the name Scott. In lieu of that, as to not appear vain, I'll name him Sean, as it is as close to Scott as I can get without actually using "Scott." The name "Sean" conjures up in my mind, someone who could just as easily be a "Scott." And once I name him Sean, I know how he's going to talk and what's going to offend him. Or, to get away from all this Scott Talk, Rose would deliver a line very differently than Donna would.

So it's all about finding a name. A name that fits my story and the character I have in my head. Once I find that name, then I can move forward. But until then, everything comes to a grinding halt.

Which, maybe, explains why I'm blogging instead of writing.

* I am Scott. You are not Scott. Sod off, Fake Scott.

stupid episode 3

stupid episode 3.

stupid, stupid, stupid episode 3.

episode 3, draft 2

Finished draft 1 of Episode 3 last night and realized today that it has maybe one of the worst endings I've ever written. The whole episode is build-up . . . to nothing, apparently. I didn't realize this until tonight as I was re-playing Mass Effect 2. I'm not sure where the realization came from. I was just sitting there and suddenly realized, "that script desperately needs a new ending -- and here it is!"

So I'm off to do that now. Ta.

Writer's Blank

Perhaps the scariest place for me to be is the time and/or place where my mind is completely blank. My mind is usually so cluttered with thoughts and ideas (all pertaining to various story ideas I could pursue) that I sometimes have difficulty focusing on the real world.

I know I must come off as disconnected or aloof, but my brain is so damn active that certain sensory perceptors have to shut off to compensate -- that's the conclusion I've come to anyway. Usually I don't mind. It brings a certain level of excitement and challenge to my life. More than that, though, really, it brings definition. I am a writer. That definition, that label, makes my existence make sense.

Then there are weeks like this one -- weeks where literally nothing is on my mind. It's a blank slate. At any one time, I am thinking about absolutely nothing. I soak up my surroundings. I record the goings-on around me and . . . nothing. On a normal week I might process it, store little bits here and there for future use. But this week, everything that happens, just happens. There's no rhyme or reason or anything. I can't work on anything because nothing interests me. On days like this, I can't even enjoy other entertainment. It just slides off me because it has nothing to cling onto.

I have days like this sometimes. Days where I can't claim to be a writer. And when I can't claim to be a writer, a deep, dark terrifying inkblot surges through my soul. If I'm not a writer, what am I?

Shame On Me (or is it Shame On You?)

Dear Hollywood,

I am done with your "true story behind the legend" movies. The moment I see those words on your poster or hear those words in your trailer is the last moment I'll give any thought or consideration to whatever movie you're advertising.

At first it seemed like an interesting idea: We all know the legend of ____. But what's the true story behind that legend? Let's tell that story! I'll admit it, even typing those words, I'm filled with a little bit of excitement and curiosity. After all, it worked for Batman Begins, didn't it? We had never actually seen the story of how Bruce Wayne became Batman. Up until BB, we had never actually seen a Bruce Wayne movie. What a novel idea (and what a great movie)!

"What other stories/legends can we give this treatment to?" I'm sure you asked yourself. "King Arthur," someone must have said. It's amazing how quickly you can go from "brilliant" to "just awful" on the idea scale.

King Arthur without Excalibur? Arthur without Merlin? No Green Knight, no Holy Grail, no Camelot? Strip all the magic away and all you have is a king who doesn't like sharp furniture. It just doesn't work. King Arthur had a wonderful cast, but there was just nothing special about it. In my perfect world, that cast would reunite and tell the Arthur story properly.

This idea, of re-imagining a story, actually worked with Troy. It might not be the best movie, it might falter for other reasons, but that story actually can be told without the gods. You want to know a story that can't be told without the gods? Hercules. But perhaps the most epic failure, and the reason for this open letter, is Ridley Scott's perplexing Robin Hood.

If there's a character from folklore that deserves to have his own franchise, it's Robin Hood. If there's a hero people could rally behind right now, it's Robin Hood. If there's a hero that is nearly impossible to get wrong, it's Robin Hood.

Robin Hood has been told a thousand different ways. My personal favorite remains Disney's 1973 animated Robin Hood. But there are general plot points that remain the same:

1. King Richard is off fighting the Crusades.
2. Prince John is trying to usurp the throne.
3. He is raising the taxes on everybody and really making life miserable.
4. The Sheriff of Nottingham is John's right-hand man.
5. Robin Hood steals from the rich and gives to the poor. And he's a damn fine archer.
6. Maid Marion loves Robin. Robin loves Marion. But she is royalty. It is a forbidden love.

There are other details (Sherwood Forest, the Merry Men), but they are more negotiable. How simple and beautiful is that? Can you imagine how that story would play in today's economy? People would go absolutely nuts for it! A vigilante who steals the taxes back from the government and returns to those who need it?

It doesn't need reinterpreting. It doesn't need re-imagining. It's a rollicking adventure. It doesn't have things that are so outrageous that they couldn't happen in real life (unlike the Arthur legend). Bill him as the original caped crusader and you'll make back your budget opening weekend. Which brings us to the movie Ridley Scott brought us.

I love Ridley Scott. I love Russell Crowe. I love Cate Blanchett. I was very excited when I heard that awesome triumvirate was bringing us a Robin Hood movie. I mean no offense to any of them, because it's obvious they're trying really hard to make a good movie. There's so much good stuff on screen, in fact, that the only people I can blame are the people who were behind the scenes. Someone, or a group of someones, decided they didn't want to make a Robin Hood movie. Because this was not Robin Hood.

Robin Hood stands up for the oppressed. He fights evil. This Robin desserts the army as soon as his king's dead and then wanders through the next two hours of movie with no motivation to do anything ever again. Why does he stay with the Loxlies? Why does he pretend to be the man's son? Does no-one know what the son actually looks like? The only time he does something for the good of England is when he gives his Magna Carta speech. It's all very Libertarian of him, but what is Robin Hood doing giving rousing political speeches?

Yes, the supporting characters are here. There's Tuck, Alan, Will Scarlet, Little John, the Sheriff, and Prince John. But they could be anybody. They have so little to do in the movie that it's actually kind of awkward and weird knowing that these people are supposed to be important.

Who's idea was it to end the movie with a recreation of Saving Private Ryan? Who didn't do their research to know those kinds of boats didn't exist for another 800 years? Who puts Robin Hood in armor, gives him an axe, and sends him into battle? Robin should be holding a bow and maybe a sword. The battle should be small and personal, not big and sprawling.

There are so many built-in parallels and themes that are relevant today that you don't need to add more. Yet you do. You add a very heavy-handed war with France that the country of England is not behind, but the king wants it, so what can we do?

It was just so disappointing. I really wish this had been Kingdom of Heaven 2. I wish this had been about Balian returning home from the Crusades and finding his home ravaged with infighting and injustice. And instead of retiring to his castle, like he could, he gets involved and fights for the oppressed. It could have been nearly the same script. And it would have given you the freedom to do whatever you want with the character, instead of feeling like you had to pay homage to the legend every other scene. Because with this Robin Hood, nothing works.

The historical accuracy holds the legend back and the legend holds the history lesson back. They cripple each other to such a degree that all we're left with is a very neutered movie that isn't even entertaining unto itself, let alone as a prequel to one of the greatest folklore tales of all time.

It isn't fun. It isn't clever. It really . . . isn't anything.

It would be like telling the story of Bruce Wayne before his parents died. It would just be about him at prep school, hanging out with his friends. He's eight years old, a little moody, but a pretty decent kid. Stuff happens, but nothing too terrible. I mean, his parents don't die or anything.

Sure, you could tell that story, but why should you? Who would be interested in that?

Or maybe this Robin Hood is more like making the movie Dead Poets Society and calling it Bruce Wayne. The story has nothing to do with Batman but you're using the Bruce Wayne name because it's familiar enough to attract people to the theater.

So, I end this letter a little less angry but a little more confused. Should I be angry with myself, for falling for another marketing ploy, or should I be angry with you, for giving me something different than what you sold me?

Grr,

Scott