Friday, October 24, 2014

AFF Friday


Can I just say (rhetorical questing incoming) how much I love John August? A major highlight of AFF is sitting in his panels, pretty well regardless of the subject matter. If Scriptnotes isn't a regular part of your life, then really what's the point (rhetorical question, no warning!)?

In all (most) seriousness, the podcast is great; informative and entertaining. Craig Mazin, also. 

Craig. Maaaaaazin. Yeah.

Just trust me on these two things: if you're a writer, you need Scriptnotes, and you'd probably really dig The Austin Film Festival.

Dig it, man. Mmm.

Check out the Scriptnotes link to your right.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Where I'll Be for the Next Few Days (Or, Why You Can't Get a Hold of Me...Mom)


Oh yeeeeah...

So, surprise; it's Austin Film Festival time! I did a pretty poor (nonexistent) job of building up to this considering what a HUGE deal it is. I really do look forward to this all year. If you've never been, you need to go (next year, though...).

You have a whole year to plan! 

You're welcome.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Flying: The Most Elaborate Way to Die

I bet there was a time (because I've seen the pictures) when flying was this classy event; women wore skirts, men wore blazer jackets and ties and the whole thing was just one long glamorous parade of beautiful people going somewhere exotic.

Now, there's a fully grown man sitting across the terminal wearing what I can only assume to be his pajama pants and flip flops. There's a woman in a full sweatsuit. T-shirts and jeans everywhere. There's one guy wearing a suit jacket and it makes him look like a real hoser. 

Dressing up at the airport now makes you look like a first-class douche.

Also, getting a pat-down in a skirt is slightly more violating, I feel. I got the once-over today because I put my ticket in the back pocket of my (very fancy, mind you) jeans before going through the body scanner. Apparently backscatter X-ray technology has not as yet been able to penetrate the devious potential of a single sheet of paper.

Okay, confession time: my real motivation in writing this is to broadcast the fact that I'm traveling. Traveling makes you important. Maybe I'm just going to Chicago for a wedding but also maybe I'm heading to New York to shoot pics for my Times editorial (hahaha - yeah, no, it's just the Chicago wedding thing).

More confessions: I paid $15 to board in group 1. Why did I do this? Because I can count at least six people sitting around here that obviously have more than the alotted two carry-ons and in addition to this gross disregard for basic flight etiquette at least one of those bags are GINORMOUS! Like well over the limit for the overheads. I am not checking baggage because Glambot over there can't tone it down a bit (that Louis Vuitton carport you call a tote is YOUR THIRD CARRYON!). 


Final confession: I look forward to flying because it is the only time that I can a) listen to Justin Tomberlake while b) reading fashion magazines actually from this month and c) eating peanut butter M&Ms all with absolutely zero guilt. This is not possible anywhere else in my life. I do feel a slight twinge when I think of the fact that should the plane go down, whoever sifts through the reckage and first finds my body will get a completely distorted view of who I was (I only read books and eat spinach at home, after all). Hey, I like Wilco, okay - I'm cool. 

Flying: the Russian roulette of the sky.

Please just acknowledge the fact that I'm traveling and you're not and that means I'm ahead. Just give me this.

And don't let these be my last written words - find my unfinished works! Tell tales of my brilliance unrealized! Feed my fish!

Kidding. I don't have fish - bleck, disgusting.


Friday, October 3, 2014

This vs This

So there's This:



And then there's This:


At first glance, This and This look like the same show only on different networks and one of them is more...blonde? Basically, my no TV status relegates me to Hulu and Netflix programming only (also to blame: the fact that no one will share their HBO Go password with me - you heartless bastards!), which means that other TV programming is dead to me. And these two shows looked cute, so...

After watching them, however, I quickly realized there is a HUGE difference between these two shows, like a deep cavernous chasm of a difference. They're actually a perfect pair because, held side by side, they present two ends of the sitcom romcom spectrum which begins with mundane and stereotypical on the far left and ends with clever and meaningful on the right. It's a horizontal line. Get it?

I need to learn how to draw this stuff. Is Paintshow still a thing?



Love This. This is an example of a well thought out, carefully crafted story with enjoyable characters who are interesting in and of themselves and not just when they're together. You doubt me? I have examples! The name and the concept are actually connected. I know this sounds like a small thing, but think of how frustrating it is when a show has a generic name that only loosely fits in with what's going on (Forever, because he doesn't die, get it!?). A to Z, because their names are Andrew and Zelda, because it's a journey through their relationship from beginning to end (or so we're led to believe). There's a clear structure to the show. I like structure. I like to feel like a show knows exactly where it's going and not just fumbling through episodes fishing for laughs. 

Then there's the characters themselves. Andrew is a romantic who works at an internet dating company pushing hookups to maximize profits. What, what's that I hear? BOOM! That's the sound dramatic irony makes when it, when it's dropped, like, in a show...it's clever, okay. It means something. And then they match him with Zelda, a lawyer, someone practical and independent who's experience with love is that you should be careful and hedge your bets. Opposites attract and create maximum conflict and conflict is entertaining as shit. 

The narration is well done, too, and not just for the fact that it's Katy Sagal (who is THE woman), but it's clever in that she never reveals something without creating another question. A bad narration answers questions that the writer is too unskilled or just plain too lazy to show through action; here we have narration that actually further complicates the story, setting up little mysteries for the characters to reveal later on. It's brilliant. It's purposeful. 

And there's chemistry! My god, it actually feels like they should be a couple; there's actual good reason to want them to be together because they complement each other, they're good for each other, they...dare I say it...complete one another (sorry). I mean, look at them! Geez! I will go on record here and now stating that the whole "their relationship will last this-many-days..." is not a buildup to a breakup. It can't be. I won't have it. This show has created a need in me to see these two together forever and that is the very point of a romcom. 

On the other hand...    




Hate This. Hey, did you know that men like boobs and women like purses!?!? I mean, holy shit; I just had no idea that was a thing thank you so much for illuminating me and hahahaha what a funny way to bring this to the attention of the public at large (sarcasm). Have you ever seen that poster of a sinking Titanic with the subscript "It could be that the purpose of your life is only to serve as a warning to other?" This is like that. It may be that this show exists purely as a warning to us aspiring writers of what not to do. Do not take the easy road. Do not phone it in. Do not think that you can place two flawed humans in the same restaurant and sparks will fly and a romance will be born. 

For a show that relies solely on characters and doesn't seek to take on more cosmic questions of love and fate, it doesn't appear that much thought went into these two. In A to Z, Andrew is a hopeless romantic who works for a hookup dating service; here, Peter is a confirmed bachelor and boob man who works at...a trophy shop? We could stretch it and say he's an underachiever making trophies for other underachievers, but that's all I can do for them. Dana is new to the city, timid, insecure and works as a...copy editor? Not sure. Because IT DOESN'T MATTER. Nothing matters in this show. 

The hook of this show is supposed to be the ongoing inner monologues of the two key characters; the idea that we can hear what they're thinking during the entirety of their relationship is setup to be funny and illuminating. Hey, hey hey - did you know men like boobs and women like pur - oh I already told you that? Yeah, that last sentence is how this entire show feels. Here's an example:

Dana and Peter have met at a restaurant for their first date. Dana is laughing at Peter's jokes which spurs...

Peter's inner monologue: "Totally going back to my place. When's the last time I washed the sheets?"

Dana's inner monologue: "He thinks we're going back to his place; I hate that he's right."

This, in case you missed it, is supposed to be a joke. This was written for laughs. I'm not laughing, and the reason is largely due to the fact that Peter is set up as a guy who walks down the street assessing his desire to have sex with various women based on their boob size and Dana is set up as a woman who is, within minutes of meeting him, already so taken with boob guy that she considers intercourse between them to be all but a certainty. Despite the fact that this show is about two decades late to this particular brand of jokes, what I'm really offended by is the blatant mediocrity with which the show is executed. It's pure, unadulterated laziness. 

There appears to be no attempt at dramatic irony here, no effort to create two people who are fit for each other. It's just throwing two characters into the same environment and because they're the stars we're supposed to want these two passive characters who are of no clear benefit to one another to end up together? Even the name, Manhattan Love Story; why, because they're in New York? She's not even a New Yorker. This story could take place in any city, but the name of the city randomly chosen makes it into the title? 

Ugh. 

Here's my version: Manhattan Love Story - The inner monologues of two New Yorkers, one a high-powered editor of a leading tech magazine, the other an underachiever who makes participation trophies for peewee sports teams, illuminate the struggle of dating in the city that never sleeps. 

That's off the top of my head; it's shit, but it's better shit, in my humble opinion, than what they ended up putting out there (ABC, feel free to contact me for help; my fees are modest and I meet deadlines like a boss. I can come up with shit like this in my sleep. I got shit for days). 

Ahem. 

Bottom line, neither of these shows is a shining example of groundbreaking television. They aren't the next Breaking Bad. There is no new romcom under the sun, therefore you have to invest time and effort into crafting sympathetic characters who are in and of themselves unique enough to want to watch and, when put together, make a completed pair. Or a complete disaster. But never, NEVER a boring regurgitation of something that's been done a million time before. Work harder. Be better. Eat dinner.

What? I'm hungry.