Film LANGUAGE is images.
A shot of a movie star leaves no room for interpretation. Here is a handsome man doing his best to remember, in often very confusing circumstances, which quip he needs to make after this other, less-well-paid person’s done with the exposition.
LOGLINE
Sounds like a subway system made of turd, but a LOGLINE is actually a condensed description of a movie, i.e. what is this story when you strip it right back to the balls?
Citizen Kane: A Rich Kid with a booming voice (Orson Welles) goes into the newspaper business, walks away from some toxic relationships, makes a butt-load of money, and for some reason is never happy.
The Godfather: A Tiny Italian (Al Pacino) bunks off military duty, marries two hot women, inherits the family business, and for some reason is never happy.
Star Wars: A Bored Farm Boy (Mark Hamill) leaves his home with a couple of gay robots, learns how to make blue light shoot out of a metal tube, gets off with his sister and blows up an enormous spaceship because a voice in his head told him to. He’s beyond happy.
Which one do you think Disney bought?
M
‘In the meantime, let’s sell some tickets …’
McGUFFIN
Sounds like a breakfast roll, but it ain’t.
It’s something that keeps people watching the movie, but is ultimately meaningless.
A movie star is a McGUFFIN.
MEDIEVAL DRAMA
It is not possible to write a MEDIEVAL DRAMA screenplay without using the prefix ‘be-’. Unless your characters, at some point, use the words …
bewildered
befriended
bedraggled
besmirched
beguiled
beheaded
bejeweled
beloved
bequeathed
beseeched
besieged
besmudged
bedeviled
bewhiskered
betrothed
or betrousered
… you may as well set the thing in space.
See: THE MEDIEVAL DRAMA SCRIPT: BEGETTING IT RIGHT
MENTORS
In movies, MENTORS have an extremely important role, even though they rarely get top billing.
Actors love playing mentors because they get to portray characters who are not only always right, but also get to sit down a lot.*
Mentor exposition tends to take place in the same location, allowing the actor to finish all his scene-work in a day or two.
Mentors have few costume changes and it’s easy to make the argument that the character would probably be staring off into the middle distance, right where a prop boy can be holding up lines on giant cue cards.
This is of particular use during the LONG ROUSING† SPEECH that many mentors get to deliver before we go into an ACT III ASS-KICK, and it can help the actor come to terms with the fact that he’s now too old to be considered a leading man, i.e. 65+ (the cut-off for women is mid-twenties).
See: ACT III ASS-KICKS; LONG ROUSING SPEECHES, THE PYRRHIC CONSOLATIONS OF
* And if they do stand, often get to rest on a stick – Ayo.
† And plot-recapping – Ayo.
META
What is META?
In Frank Coraci’s 2006 fantasy saga Click, Michael Newman (Adam Sandler) is an overworked architect who gets a ‘universal remote control’ that allows him to fast-forward to his career goals, while bypassing the tedium in between. But in so doing, he finds that he has missed many valuable life lessons.
On the surface, Click is a more satisfying iteration of Frank Capra’s vastly overrated Jimmy Stewart actioner It’s a Wonderful Life (Click’s ‘universal remote control’ resonates with a clarity far greater than the frankly trite ‘angel’ motif in Life*), but above the surface, in meta city, shit gets deep.
All of us who drunk-bought Click at a gas station had the same thought when we finally plucked up the courage to watch it: ‘What’s stopping me from just fast-forwarding to the end of this thing? Isn’t that the exact kind of meta gesture that the savvy makers of this unique societal critique would applaud? But surely they haven’t made a movie that we’re meant to skip through? They have product-placement deals to honor. There must be another explanation. Perhaps by making the film so hard to watch they’re making us see the world through Michael Newman’s eyes. Life is incomprehensible, dull and brutal! Just like watching Click!’
See?
If we had fast-forwarded through Click – and by Zeus it was tempting – we would never have learned the true lesson that comes from watching Click.
There is no real reason to watch Click.
That’s more meta than your momma.
See: MOMMAS, VARYING META LEVELS OF
* Agreed. A piss-poor Scrooged rip-off – Ayo.
MORE THAN ONE ASIAN PERSON
In movies, it’s fine to feature a group of ASIAN PEOPLE in a crowd – e.g. a reaction shot of ‘coders’ at a computer company – but it’s unwise to have more than ONE as a featured/named character. This ain’t cast in stone; this is cast-ing. By all means let’s reassess in fifty years.
But in the meantime, let’s sell some tickets.
See: DON’T HATE THE PLAYER, HATE THE PLAY
MOVEMENT
Movies are MOVEMENT!
What’s that grenade doing? It’s moving into that cluster of FOREIGN NATIONALS.
What’s that hand doing? It’s moving the HOT GIRL’s bra off.
What’s that other hand doing? It’s moving that MINOR VILLAIN’s defenseless head into a wall.
They’re called MOVE-IES, not TALK-IES!
See: FOREIGN NATIONALS; HOT GIRLS; MINOR VILLAINS
MULTIPLE NARRATIVE
MULTIPLE NARRATIVE movies feature many story strands, often interwoven. This can be done well (What to Expect When You’re Expecting) or with a sledgehammer (Short Cuts).
Such films require a unifying event at the end to tie all the characters together. In Kirk Jones’s elegant 2012 pregnancy saga What to Expect When You’re Expecting, it’s childbirth – the literal answer to the title’s implied question. This is great screenwriting, ‘delivering’ a denouement that makes good on the implied contract of a poster typeset in pink.
Contrast this with Robert Altman’s bloated 1993 pest-spray dramedy Short Cuts. The film ends with an earthquake, but cutting to everyone shaking while you jiggle the camera does not amount to an effective emotional catharsis. He could at least have had one of the characters attend a bikini contest. What happened to all the bugs? Did we win? Plus, a film called Short Cuts should be less long.
See: PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON’S MAGNOLIA AND WHY A RAIN OF FROGS CAN’T REALLY BE CONSIDERED ‘RAIN’
MUSTACHES
The word ‘mystery’ comes from the Greek and means ‘shut your mouth’.
Good advice for a leading man.
I’m paying you to pretend to kill large numbers of nondescript people who are racially different to me. If I want exhausting jibber-jabber, I’ll remarry one of my ex-wives.
The word ‘mustache’ is from the same Greek root. That’s because if a guy has a good enough MUSTACHE, he doesn’t need to talk. Look at Tommy Selleck. The most expressive thing about him is his chest hair. Same with Burty Reynolds. Here’s what Burt’s mustache is telling you: making love with me is so powerfully transcendent you won’t care about the horseshoe of spikey scrub between my nose and upper lip.
Eyes are the windows to the soul, but when you open your mouth, all we see are your rancid teeth, a decaying, chalk-yellow fence straining to contain a puffy, pink, algae-speckled bladder.*
Why d’ya think Jimmy Cagney spoke outta the side of his mouth?
See: NAZIS: WHEN FACIAL HAIR FAILS TO HUMANIZE
* I think he means ‘tongue’ – Ayo.
MUSTY
Think of your favorite movie star.
Seagal.
Stallone.
Statham.
W
hat do you think they smell like? Lemon mist?
Nah.
These guys are only hitting the tub if circumstances compel them.
I stood behind Seagal at a rodeo once, and believe me, that smell wasn’t coming from the bulls. He turned round and gave me a look like, ‘You deal with it.’
See: DEALING WITH IT RODEO-STYLE
MYSTERY
How come wet wipes won’t break down? How come something that you use on babies won’t dissolve in acid, when your fucking car, which is supposed to be made of metal, dissolves in drizzle?
Why do these entitled college girls think they can mooch around all day on my futon, crunching up my pillow with my peanut butter, wipe their work-shy asses with my hard-won shit-tickets, and not contribute a dime?
How come I can’t cry?
All these things are MYSTERIES.
Movies are built on ’em.
In an Ingmar Bergman film the mystery is: how did this icicle get funding? If I want to see the pale face of death challenge me to a board game, I’ll take one of my ex-wives to a Cluedo convention.
In Orson Welles’s 1941 snoozer Citizen Kane the mystery is: why did a rich kid name his sled after the clitoris?
In any David Fincher film the mystery is: who turned off all the lights? Did the meter run out?
In a Matthew McConaughey movie the mystery is: what do the top half of his eyes look like?*
In a Nicolas Cage movie the mystery is: why are you trying to upstage yourself? There are no other professional actors in this film.
In a Steven Seagal movie the mystery is: how long will it take till everyone realizes he’s entirely vindicated?
No mystery, no movie.
See: STEVEN SEAGAL, THE INEVITABLE AND COMPLETE VINDICATION OF
* And when’s he going to take off his shirt? – Ayo.
N
‘In a movie, you just show the chair …’
NON-WHITES
It is very hard for audiences to connect with people who are NON-WHITE, unless they are Denzel Washington, who is so handsome that it doesn’t matter. His handsomeness is like an event that tricks you into forgetting he isn’t white.
In Joseph Zito’s 1988 counter-communist dramedy Red Scorpion, we identify with the HERO, Nikolai Petrovitch Rachenko (Dolph Lundgren – a Swede), despite his sympathy-killing trait of being Russian, because most of the other characters in the film are either non-white or not played by Denzel Washington, thus forcing us to side with a Dirty Red. The remaining white people are either TOO FAT TO CARE ABOUT or even more Russian than our hero (heavily accented and sometimes weird-looking/bald).
In any case, Dolph Lundgren (one of the whitest action stars of all time – like the collective wet dream of a male-only Third Reich slumber party*) is functionally American: a tooled-up, monosyllabic Superman.
In movies, nationality is a state of mind: there are no borders/boundaries, as long as you ascribe to the values of the United States.
But race cuts to a narrative’s heart. And narrative requires contrast.
If the good guy’s black, what color’s the villain?
See: ETHNICITY VS RELATABILITY; HERO, THE; MORE THAN ONE ASIAN PERSON; PEOPLE WHO ARE TOO FAT TO CARE ABOUT
* That snow-white hair, that oceanic stare! – Ayo.
NOVELS VS MOVIES
The problem with NOVELS is that they’re always describing things. But what is there to say about a chair?* It’s hard to tell what one really looks like. All I know is the feeling of having my ASS halfway to the ground but for some reason not falling.
In a MOVIE, you just show the chair.
That’s why I love ’em.
See: ASS; SHOW, DON’T TELL
* Or anything else? – Ayo.
O
‘Movies show us that our personalities are essentially insignificant …’
OPENINGS
In John Irvin’s 1986 crime-syndicate saga Raw Deal, we start with a sequence of pure cinema: powerful-looking men walking toward camera; speedboats skimming over sea; choppers cresting over hills; rifles with silencers; bags of drugs; men in suits stepping menacingly out of cars.
Compare this to the OPENING of Orson Welles’s laughably overrated 1941 newspaper dramedy Citizen Kane …
Some ancient fuck drops a snow globe.
Guess which one recouped. Kane is one of the few black-and-white films that couldn’t even be saved by colorization.
Everything in the film is black and white anyway! Snow, doddery bores with white hair, newspaper print … The thing’s deathly.
If you don’t have a strong opening, how am I gonna trust you to handle the climactic shoot-out?
See: GETTING SHIT RIGHT UP TOP
OPPOSITES
If you wanna create drama, you’re gonna need OPPOSITES.
If you wanna create life, you’re gonna need harmony.
That’s why births come at the start of a movie, in order to disrupt harmony and create drama (Look Who’s Talking), or at the end, to conclude the drama and signal resolution/harmony (Rosemary’s Baby).
In Bruno Barreto’s 2003 cabin-crew saga View from the Top, Donna Jensen (Gwyneth Paltrow) is considerate, ambitious and highly attractive. Whereas Ted Stewart (Mark Ruffalo) is considerate, relatively ambitious and highly attractive. It’s the contrast between these two characters that drives so much of the story.
In Tom Vaughan’s 2008 one-night-stand saga What Happens in Vegas, Jack Fuller (Ashton Kutcher) is a slacker who can’t commit. Joy McNally (Cameron Diaz) is an uptight financial hotshot who can’t let her hair down. But, crucially, they’re very attractive. If one or both of them were ugly, the movie would be an abomination.
Movies show us that our personalities are essentially insignificant (we can change any key character trait simply by having a moment of revelation toward the end of Act II). What really matters is whether you have good bone structure. Because that can’t change. If your kisser looks like a bag of dicks, you’ll never find love.
Those without charisma and a low BMI are condemned to roam the earth for ever as a SUPPORTING CHARACTER or, worse, COMIC RELIEF.
See: CHARACTER, SUPPORTING; RELIEF, COMIC
OSCARS, THE
Every year a group of super-old white people detain a group of super-attractive white people for four televised hours by distracting them with golden statues of a bald, penis-less man whose arms have melted into his chest.
THE OSCARS is the most important day in the Hollywood calendar. A billion people watch it, and it tells you everything you need to know about this business: without stories, Hollywood is just a bunch of giant-toothed white people with their hands down each other’s pants.
And while we’re at it, why isn’t there a category for best female director? We don’t expect an actress to operate at the same level as an actor, so why should we expect any more from a directress?
That’s why no woman has ever won an Academy Award.*
See: DIRECTRESSES
* And I quote: ‘Facts are for the weak’ – Ayo.
P
‘Some shit just don’t make sense …’
PAIN
Have you ever had a penile fracture? It hurts. It’s caused by sudden trauma to an erect penis.
Trauma can result from aggressive masturbation or misaligned penetration. Sometimes you’ll hear a cracking sound. You may see dark bruising because blood’s escaping from a ruptured cylinder. You may hear laughing because your partner’s so drunk she’s in hysterics.
You DO need urgent medical attention.
You DON’T need someone shining a torch on it so she can take a picture on her cellphone.
I’ve never seen a movie show this kind of PAIN. Real-life pain. The kind of pain that’s hard to explain at Outpatients.
The movies exist as a way of distracting us from pain. That’s why BRITISH FILMS are so unpopular.
(Don’t) See: BRITISH FILMS
PARADOX
How can you listen to Meatloaf’s Bat Out
of Hell AND ‘observe the speed limit’?
Yet why would you listen to anything else in the car? You can’t listen to Meatloaf anywhere other than a car. And why is this just ‘my problem’?
Why are the real voices of ‘comic’ impressionists so unremarkable? Why, when they could adopt the voice of anyone else in the world, do they speak in that voice? Why don’t they speak like Clint Eastwood all the time?
Why would anyone try to attack Steven Seagal? He’s invincible.
Why do I run away when I feel love?
Why would anyone make a film starring Madonna when you could hire an actress?
Some shit just don’t make sense.
We call that shit a PARADOX.
In Frank Coraci’s 2006 handset dramedy Click, Michael Newman (Adam Sandler) is an overworked architect who is given a ‘universal remote control’ by the mysterious Morty (Christopher Walken) at the department store Bed, Bath, and Beyond. This device allows him to fast-forward to his career goals without having to go through the stress and repetition of daily existence.
But later he finds that, in so doing, he has missed many valuable life lessons.
But why doesn’t Morty tell Newman that he’s the angel of death before he gives him the remote control? That might have informed Newman’s decision as to whether to accept it.
The Grip of Film Page 10