I don't really care how much the latest superhero film took at the box office, although I'd probably know if you asked me. When I watch a film the main thing I am looking for is a good story. I like it when I look up at the big screen and can see a part of me staring back at me. More than anything, I am still looking for Jimmy Stewart and Jack Lemmon and Billy Wilder in every film I see.
Friday, 28 September 2012
The 20th Raindance Film Festival Begins
Everyone is here because they love great movies. You're surrounded by people who are fascinated by obscure Slovenian movies and films made for £3000 by 18 year olds. It's not that anyone has anything against superhero movies, it's just that we never have any trouble finding them.
You come to raindance because you have a genuine chance to be a part of a wonderful cinematic experience that you'll have trouble replicating anywhere else.
And of course, the cast and crew are in the audience, the families are here. You never know how things will go -- will a masterpiece play to an empty cinema? Will a piece of crap bore a packed house?
When films play in a festival, they're alive! More like a band playing a nervous gig than a solid filmic product.
So many of the films I'll be writing about over the next week and a bit will be international premieres of movies you've never heard of. And that's exciting. Those of us in attendance have the opportunity to share with you the gems that we find.
The Raindance Film Festival began in a small and humble way, and it still has that feel. The organizers are accessible, the audience down to earth and excited. Yet Raindance is at the heart of the British film industry. And in the short film categories, one film from the festival will go on to be shortlisted for an Academy Award. Isn't that exciting!? I think so.
I won't be reviewing every film I see, that's not really my thing. But I'll tell you about the best ones and probably moan about the bad ones. Outside of that, I hope to give you all an insight into what it's like at the Raindance Film Festival this year. If you happen to be in London, you can buy tickets at the Raindance Website.
Thursday, 27 September 2012
Jack Kerouac's On The Road
It's my favourite book. And now the movie's coming out.
The magic of the book, for me, is in the language. Kerouac's use of words, his epic mystical ramblings that light up your SOUL! I've never known anything like it. The book is a big joy for me every time I read it.
And I like MY vision. The Denver in my imagination, the sweet little Marylou I picture.
I worry that, if I watch the movie, then I'll never be able to fully enjoy my vision again, what do you think?
This might seem trivial but to me, it's important! The art that we love carries us through life. When people grow up loving Tom Hanks or John Wayne or Audrey Hepburn, it becomes a part of their identity.
And you are what you read.
And I'm not a bible reader-- instead I have books like 'On The Road' and they fill me up good. But what if I hate the film but the images stick with me? What if I can never get back the 'On The Road' that I love?
On the other hand, I'm so curious to see what they've done. To see what it looks like.
But anyway, I don't even see what's appealing about Jack Kerouac on the big screen? It was all about the words. The journey you go on in your mind. Turning his words into cinematic interpretations, no way will it be as good!
I brought this up on the Facebook page a few weeks ago, and everyone said I should go see it, but should I? How often are the adaptations great? And this isn't just a book I like, it's my favourite one! I love every darn word I come across in that thing and all the places it takes me.
I don't want to lose any of that. But at the same time, it's fascinating that they've made the movie. I'm curious to see it, I want to know what they did. But I don't want to lose my vision of it--- but I fear the experience of the movie will forever infect my imagination on future reads. What should I do?
Tuesday, 25 September 2012
30 Tips To Get You Writing Your Screenplay
GROUNDHOG DAY: A Masterpiece of PREMISE and CHARACTER
The first eighteen minutes of the film are not actually particularly funny. In fact, if it wasn't for the charisma and humour of Bill Murray, it's possible you would be bored. What the opening of the film does do - is plant in the key concepts which the film will keep referring to again and again and again.
The second time Phil Connors (Bill Murray) experiences Groundhog Day is when the film really begins to deliver the laughs. The concept is a funny one, 'what if a guy had to live the same day again and again?' --- the second walk-through of the day delivers on this joke. Most movies peak at this moment-- they have a humorous set-up, play out the joke, and then run out of ideas. It's why most rom-coms, despite sounding clever in a pitch meeting, end up being predictable run of the mill movies.
When the audience knows the world your film is set in, you can take them anywhere, as long as it stays within the confines of the universe you've created. In 'Groundhog Day', once the audience knows that they're going to be seeing the same day again and again -- the director, Harold Ramis, was free to dive into different scenarios without needing to set them up each time. This is why your premise, and how you deliver it, has to be perfect. This is the difference between great comedy and average-to-poor comedy. It's like when I wrote recently about 'The Watch' and 'Ted' - they're lazy and hacked together. Like the writers thought "Oh, a guy can't get rid of his bear, and a bunch of neighbours protect their hometown from aliens," and thought that would be enough, but it's about so much more than that to produce a stand-out comedy.
Another thing that 'Groundhog Day' has going for it is, of course, Mr Bill Murray, in what is surely the defining performance of his career. The crazy thing about his miserable, angry character, is that we can relate to him! Despite the supernatural thing he is experiencing, of living the same day over and over, we realise that it's not too far from our own experiences. Most of us go through months and months of seeing the same people, having the same conversations, facing the same problems. Despite the ridiculous situation Connors is in, it's also surprisingly normal.
As Phil grapples with his bizarre situation, he is plagued with concerns about the meaning of his life, or lack thereof. His concerns are specific to his situation, of living the same day again and again, yet miraculously, they are all same issues we all face, day after day. At various points in the film, Phil finds temporary freedom - through driving on train tracks, manipulating dates with Nancy, and eventually -- through killing himself. These troubling yet hilarious moments give us a great insight into Phil's character, and they also strengthen the premise. We realise, this guy really is stuck in a predicament, and nothing he does matters. You could argue that the movie has atheistic undertones--- if life is meaningless, what exactly are we meant to live for?
The perfect construction of the film's premise allowed for so many delightful moments that wouldn't have been possible without it. A perfect example is the morning after Phil is put in jail. Despite being miserable in his repeated daily existence, he is ecstatic about being a free man again. He comes down the steps and talks to the woman from the bed-and-breakfast place. Before she can offer him coffee or ask about the weather, Connors answers all the questions, because he's heard them countless times before. This joke was set up in the opening stages of the film, and repeated throughout. Comedy is like lego, you have to build the pieces and make sure they fit together perfectly. It's also about repetition. 'Groundhog Day' is pretty much just five or six scenes being repeated again and again, but they're different each time because of the plight of the character. (If you're interested in these elements of comedy, I recommend you read my blog post about Billy Wilder and I.A. L Diamond's 'The Apartment' and also read the screenplay).
Then we have Phil Connors in the coffee house, with a plethora of cakes and pancakes and cigarettes -- throwing caution to the wind. He made the choice, which I must say is an extremely tempting one, to live a life full of eating bad food and not giving a crap about anything. Again, he is forced into this viewpoint by the premise of the film, yet it is also something we relate to in our monotonous, repetitive lives. If I eat a giant cake today, does it matter? If life is meaningless anyway, should I smoke some cigarettes and have another pancake?
'Groundhog Day' is a fresh take on a tried and tested notion that any day could be our last, and that it's about making the most of life. To quote the title of a new film staring Dakota Fanning, "Now is good". Of course, we all know that now is good, but we need reminders. We need movies to drum it into us.
The thing about Phil Connors is that he is so unaware. He thinks he's above the work he's doing, being forced to travel to see if a rat sees its shadow. He's dissatisfied. And he sees the repeating of each day as a punishment, as another thing he has to get through. Isn't that how we all see most of our days, as something we have to get through? So he tries to manipulate the situations, by stealing money, manipulating women to go to bed with him, killing the groundhog.
Come the end, there's only one thing Phil hasn't tried: being genuine. Getting coffee for his colleagues, taking piano lessons, trying to save an old man's life. What makes this so powerful, much like in his miserable moments, is how strongly we relate to it. We want to be people who look out for others and follow our passions and be kind to strangers; yet we always get grumpy and delay it-- we think we'll be the great versions of ourselves tomorrow, or next week, or after a trip to Spain or whenever it is we get enough sleep.
The film asks; what would you do if you had to live the same day again and again and again? Midway through we realise, we already are living the same day again and again and again. The question is, now that you know this, what are you going to do with your life? When are you going to make an effort and put a smile on people's faces?
Monday, 24 September 2012
Actress with the Sinking Eyes
She was one of those girls, drawn towards the movies because of her mixed up messed up past, all broken promises and visions of places that may or may not have existed.
Something went wrong, back then, and she never got a chance to grow in to who she was, who she wanted to be.
Acting was a chance to be someone else. To be someone else so deeply that maybe underneath it, she'd find out who she really was. There was never anyone around to tell her who to be or where to go. A childhood of guessing and hoping and seeing people wave goodbye, never to return.
Every audition, every rejection, was just like those younger times on foggy country roads that smelled of morning rain, where people waved goodbye from old cars getting ever closer to the distance.
She wanted one role. One chance to stake her claim. To show people her sinking eyes. To prove once and all that she existed. She assumed that, if she could be a movie star, she'd be so famous that someone would be able to explain who she was, and where she was meant to go.
Still she waited, ever hopeful. Everyone thought she wanted fame, but she just wanted to be accepted.