It’s not all Depressing

It was recently pointed out to me that an awful lot of my writing is a little on the dark side. Nonsense! Whilst I admit it is not normally of a sunny disposition I do think that it is definitely not so dark as to not be able to see what is going on.

Here then is Exhibit A, a hastily assembled summary list of my recent output:

• Complete planet wide genocide
• A Samaritans hit squad, followed by the faked suicide of our protagonist
• The killing of an innocent man as part of the rites of passage of a child
• A man who murders suicidal people who can afford it, in order to leave a heap of bother/or insurance payout for their loved ones
• A grieving widow who is slowly dying from plutonium buried in his garden by previous occupants
• A serial killer who dies of a faked suicide at the hands of a man who kills serial killers to save the families from pain
• A man whose body lives in a different reality to his mind, who has to cut his eyes out in order to become whole again
• A man who clones himself for body parts
• A man who, when he comes across the car crash of a road rager, kills him and the two police who come to attend the scene
• An accidentally created time machine that brings about an infinite loop of piling up bodies from it’s creator killing himself

Ahem. Point taken. Expect a rom-com next.

Or maybe just more of the same.

Take Us to Your Leader – We Bring Fire

Not wanting to turn this blog into a culture review site I hesitate to follow up my in-depth, Pulitzer prize-winning Derren Brown review with one for Ridley Scott‘s new movie, Prometheus.

Oh, go on then.

This is a movie that seems to really polarise opinion. In the first camp are people (for shorthand I will refer to these as Educated) who understand this is not an Alien prequel and can appreciate a spectacular film made in a familiar universe. The second camp contains people (here I’ll go with Idiots) who  -despite Sir Ridley banging on for months that Prometheus was only vaguely associated with Alien- entered the cinema expecting a direct prequel complete with darkness, dripping chains and xenomorphs with major dental problems.

The answer is of course somewhere in between. As a self-styled Educated Idiot I thoroughly enjoyed the movie -seen in the darkness of Cineworld Didsbury, along-side a number of other lone, forty-year olds wearing U.S.S. Sulaco t-shirts from Last Exit to Nowhere – despite its numerous flaws. There are plot-holes; Idris Elba doesn’t have enough to do and the Space Jockeys turn out to be smaller and less alien than hoped. But it is beautiful -never more so than in the opening scenes of a primordial Earth- and looks truly epic. The benefits of Ridley’s insistence on actually building sets to act against, rather than just going with greenscreen, are really obvious.

Once you realise that the moon all this plays out on is not the same moon as in Alien; different spaceship, different aliens, possibly a completely different time period, it makes a lot more sense. It’s not perfect but it is visually stunning, highly entertaining and though provoking.

Just don’t get me started on the Blade Runner prequel…

A Review That Gives Nothing Away

Last night I went to see Derren Brown in his new stage show, ‘Svengali’. One of the first things Derren said, after arriving on stage wearing only one shoe and carrying a gun, was that we should not tell anyone about the show, so as not to spoil it for others.

I won’t then.

But it was terrific fun. Full of trademark prediction, mindreading and astounding feats, delivered with great humour. The main Svengali bit, that I guess we’re not supposed to talk about, I didn’t find that interesting. Frankly I don’t think it quite went to plan as Derren had to use a bit of patter to explain why some things happened before they were supposed to and covered up with a bit of misdirection that fact that one thing just plain didn’t happen.

To be honest though, I was there for the core stuff; audience participation, reading minds, predicting and influencing behaviour, ‘shoot ‘im in the nuts’ catcalls and the sheer thrill of watching a master at work.

Wonderful. I cannot recommend it enough.

A Sad, Sad, Joyfully, Wonderfully Epic Day

I have just seen The Avengers for the second time. Okay, I’ve just seen Avengers Assemble for the second time, but I am wholly reluctant to embrace a name allocated solely to our country on the grounds that marketeers believe we are too stupid to recognise that The Avengers -a film, set in the modern day, about a team of superheroes- is totally different to a TV series (or even one crappy film based on the TV series, that nobody saw) made in the sixties involving a bloke in a bowler hat.

Okay, it also featured a sexy woman in a slinky catsuit but clearly that diminishes my argument a little.

I thought it was only the US that marketeers slighted in this way -see The Philosopher’s Stone become The Sorcerer’s Stone and License Revoked becoming License To Kill.

Anyway, I have digressed once again.

The main thing is that I have just seen the epic Avengers film for the second time. The first was all about 3D, excitement, giggles and only using the front quarter of my seat.

This second time I wanted to pay attention to the story beats and how it had been crafted. Mainly though, I was giggling and only using the front quarter of my seat.

It is a wonderfully balanced film. As a summer blockbuster it utterly fails in giving us flat, shallow characters. It has an ensemble cast in which all characters shine interestingly, take their turn in the spotlight, fight together (using both meanings) and exchange witty remarks.

It is, in summary, everything you expect of a witty, intelligent low-budget indie. It is however a blockbuster that took $235m to make and will most likely earn over a billion dollars.

It is a sad day that we can’t mock a blockbuster for not being beautifully, deftly written.

It is a wonderfully, epic day that we see a blockbuster deliver everything you always hoped they would.

Thank you Joss Whedon, for proving the smug writery-types wrong. Intelligent and interesting can also involve blowing shit up.

Hulk. Smash.

Making a Film

So, many things have been afoot.

One of the most significant was that we made a film in 48 hours. Yes, yes, we’ve been making films for about a year now so what’s so important about that? Well firstly, we actually finished one. Fully edited, sound FX, music track, grading, the lot. It seems that setting yourself constraints can really make things happen. You don’t procrastinate, you make sure you have the time set aside and you don’t keep suggesting improvements that mean you keep re-shooting.  Secondly it was a proper film challenge, being up there with our peers. A chance to check out the competition and not only feel a part of it but also feel immensely proud that a) what we produced is pretty damn good in all respects and b) realise that what we produced was on the right level, in the right ballpark and, actually, very good given the limited size and experience of our team.

So how was it? Cool. We filmed in 2 locations – in an aeroplane at Speke Aerodrome and Moore Nature Reserve, near Warrington- one of which was very cramped on a wet and windy day, the other a lovely sunny day in the wide open with a tent. Our actors performed admirably and a horde of extras and supporters helped us through. Tim (DP) worked tirelessly as DP and editor, lugging around his massive new camera rig and case of lenses on a hot day as well as working wonders in a cramped cockpit. Matthew not only handled sound duties with his new sound rig (Edirol R44 sound recorder, gadget porn fans) but stepped up to the plate when an actor crisis hit and delivered a great performance as Technical Officer Pantall in the spaceship scene.

What did I do? Well, I wrote the script, obviously. Which was, whilst not as wordy as many things I have written, still fairly wordy for a 5 minute short. I also tagged myself nominally as director, something of an emerging role that I don’t think any of us have a great handle on yet. I storyboarded the script to show Tim what shots I thought we needed. I worked with the actors to rehearse and guide the performance. The pre-production planning and the editing was done collectlvely and worked well.

Did it come out the way I wanted? Certainly the play of the visuals and framing of the shots  was what I wanted. The acting delivered in the right way and the edit runs smoothly to deliver the way I saw it in my head. All of this of course is within the constraints of time and circumstance.

Mostly though I was pleased with the way it worked as a team. The idea isn’t to be a Kubrick production where everything revolves around one guy but a devolved team where you paint the vision and let the experts get on with it. I think that’s important because we’re a group of people who all want to push things and learn a lot about our chosen areas, not just enact the creative vision of one person. I don’t think Joss Whedon single-handledly put together Avengers. He got together a group of talented choreographers, graphic and sound designers, cinematographers and so on, painted them a vision and let them go away and play, giving nudges of guidance along the way.

What it does comes down to though is the need to have a guy that makes the final decisions and, whilst in a devolved model that should mainly come down to focusing on guiding the performances and saying when you’ve got the right one in the can, it still means that all across the team, from wardrobe to edit, to sound and to music someone will, at some point, need to step in and say, ‘this is what we are doing.’  It requires so much deeper levels of thought and visualisation about all the aspects of production, because you can’t make an assured decision until you have. There’s a lot to learn in that space and its important to go through it. Being a director requires doing a lot outside of your comfort zone but what does make it more comfortable is recognising it is another skill to be learned and that each mistake, difficulty or challenge moves you further along that path.

Most of all though. The feeling of sitting down and watching a film, based on word you wrote, is just epic.

What the F*** is Going On?

We’ve been through a lot recently haven’t we? First there was the script rewrite of 180 Days Later following Reader feedback. Then the new feature burbled its way into half-life,  then NaNoWriMo, short stories, the screenplay version of NaNoWriMo, all peppered with new short scripts desperate for writing.

It sounds a lot but some of it -okay, you saw my NaNoWriMo word count, most of it- took place in my head. It’s where most of my stories develop, over weeks and months, until they fall -complete with loud definite click– into place and I can start writing them down. Whilst that fits my idle dreams of being a professional writer -lounging around, having baths, eating peanut butter sandwiches and nursing gin hangovers from late nights boozing with Iain M. Banks (Iain Banks is no fun to drink with, he gets a bit creepy) because underneath I’m really working, gestating my story until it’s ready -with maybe a midwiferly nudge from my publisher, to usher it into the world- I occasionally feel that it might be a slightly, dare I say it, lazy way of working. As I watch others putting in days and days, sweating and straining to produce a first draft, am I deluding myself that honing and perfecting in my head is a short cut to the end of drafting and editing?

Even as I write this blog post I can see the very thing I fear about a traditional process happening before my eyes. What started out as a post to share a useful find that shows how to plot, has quickly changed direction towards a piece of self analysis that I certainly didn’t intend.

I like to feel I understand something before I start. I often find in appraisals at work that I am  described as someone who, whilst quiet, can be relied upon to ask pertinent and incisive questions on the occasions that they speak. I like to have understood, twisted and prodded something before I can vouch an opinion. I feel scared of a new blank page when I don’t fully know where it is going to lead, fearful that the tiny footprints of additional text will upset and unbalance what has come before or what is to come. I need to know what the statue looks like before I pick up my chisel.

This is what happened with NaNoWriMo. I knew the story well, the middle and the ending were just burning scenes in my head aching to be written but they couldn’t be until I knew the characters well enough that their actions and words would flow properly. But I couldn’t start. The gap between the three opening chapters I had written and the final twenty-five just sat there, black and indiscernible. Pretty much the middle of act one where the characters began their dance, met, interacted and set their courses for the story was missing, like a valley that needed bridge.

The bridge is there, I can feel it. Over Christmas I have felt ropes being fired across the chasm, steel cables pulled over and the beginnings of pilings being built deep in the valley.  One or two people, in the peak of physical health could get across but certainly not all of them. It still needs refining and finishing. Then there’s the doubt that it should be a TV series, rather than a novel…

I think that mulling, or in fact running through and watching my film hundreds of times through in my head, tweaking and changing as new ideas, ways to overcome obstacles and just plain damn experiments come along, is a perfectly good approach. It works for me. I am multi-tasking; 90% done on one thing, 50% on three more and tiny, single figures on a handful more. What I need to realise is that alongside doing that you still need to keep sitting down and writing. Not necessarily the same thing but something. Keep those muscles moving, keep honing the craft so that when my story is ready I’ll be able to put it down to the very best of my ability.

Older and Bolder

It was my birthday this week. I had some great presents, about 40% of which seem to be comic related and 20% Marmite.

I also received a card which manages to be both extremely funny and deeply offensive at the same time. Perfect…

 

Foreign Lingo

Normally I’m a big fan of watching stuff in its original language. Not because I’m pretentious -though I can’t guarantee that, I’m perhaps best able to delude myself after all- but because of the oft quoted reason that American remakes will be a slim shadow of the original. I have no interest in seeing The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, despite liking every other David Fincher film. To me I have seen the story told on screen and the fact I had to read subtitles throughout did not limit the power and horror of the storytelling. Is it wrong that I don’t want to go back and see a new version? I think it depends on how slavish it is to the original. Dragon Tattoo is, in particular, based on a few plot turns that, once known, diminish your need to watch it. Also, some of the violence is disturbing and, whilst appropriate to the story, I really don’t want to have to watch it again.

The reason I’m drawn to think about this is The Killing, another Scandinavian property that has undergone an American translation. Having heard a whisper of the enthusiasm for the original I sought out and, accidentally, due to the Danish names used, bought the American  remake of the first season. Having now watched a number of episodes I am impressed by the quality of the story, the acting and feel being very different to other shows. Despite, or perhaps because of, being set in Seattle, the show feels Scandinavian; the characters have names like Linden, Larsen and Marek, there is a overexposed, bluish cast to the colour grading and the weather seems to be permanently cold and damp. There is a genuine feeling that steps have been taken to faithfully replicate an original, with the intent of just using a change of language to open the story to a larger market.

This reminds me of the BBC’s Wallander a remake of the Swedish detective series, based on Henning Mankel’s acclaimed novels. This series, starring Kenneth Brannagh, as well as retaining the similar Scandinavian language and feel, takes the further step of actually being filmed on location in Sweden.

The interesting point to me is that, having seen both TV shows, I have little desire to search out the originals. Both seem to be top quality shows, without the frequent disappointment of remakes.

I wonder if this is due to the increasing levels of quality found in US TV shows. Modern programmes like The Wire, Battlestar Galactica, Dollhouse and Dexter are well made, well acted with a richness and depth to storytelling that is lightyears away from the traditional lightweight, episodic shows that assumed an audience lacking in attention or intellect. The US has grown into the confidence and the chops to create intelligent, quality TV. Maybe this will make future remakes something to be enjoyed, not scorned.

Movies though? Not so sure, I think the desire for as many ticket sales as possible is still enough to give us pale imitations of foreign originals. Ever see the US remake of Nikita? Enough said.

For Those That Understand the Writers Room, We Salute You

I didn’t go to the Women Writer’s Festival, for obvious reasons… (I was busy).

Some people did, including a very interesting sounding session from Kate Rowland -who set up the Writers Room- on what the BBC will be looking for over the next 12 months or so.

See the link below for a summary of the session. Some of us interested in comedy or representing our Northern/Welsh roots should take note.

http://www.scriptpunk.com/bbc-writers-room-2012-opportunities/

Oh Well

Observent readers amongst you may have noticed that I haven’t posted for a while.

What, I hear you wonder, could possibly have caused me to stray from the hugely optimistic objective of posting every day that I stupidly set myself? Perhaps I have become engaged in doomed dance of passion with a feisty yet enigmatic Chinese spy whose sole objective has been to destroy both my body and soul through the careful application of aphrodisiac, nurses uniforms and chocolate sauce, so that I would be prevented from writing my masterpiece; a towering, inspiring, novelistic contemplation of love and the human condition that would cause the West to wake up from its slumbering adherence to Bacchus and Mammon, just in time to prevent the cruelly, crushing and enslaving dominance of the Dragon from the East?

No.

Perhaps then I have been offering my spare time to running educational visits to the local telescope at Jodrell Bank, placing me in the dangerous situation of witnessing the opening of an intergalactic space portal and thus becoming simultaneously charged with the safety of eight bored schoolchildren and the future of the entire human race, as an advance squadron of heavily armoured Chaos Capybaras burst through said portal on a mission to obtain samples of human DNA, from the first creature they came across -to wit, me- , in order to combine it in their

dastardly laboratories into an endless hellspawn mutant human-manatee hybrid army against which no planet would stand a chance?

No. Not that either.

Initially I was drawn into the masochistic world that is NaNoWriMo. Then I was given the opportunity to procrastinate, firstly being drawn into a never ending planning and detailing of the world in which my novel is set, then subsequently getting drawn into the alternative distraction that is work. It is not a pleasant distraction involving, as it does, 4am starts, international travel and general staying away from homeness. I would much prefer sharing my bed with a frisky manatee or fighting off hordes of chinese super spies dressed, manga-style, in intriguingly busty nurses uniforms.

Let it at least be said that I came back and left a witty placeholder, before turning, sadly, back to work.

Have at you!