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.        





Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Unsolicited Reviews of Random New Fall Programing

Hulu and I spent some quality time together over the weekend and the result is a series of thoughts and opinions about the following:

Blackish


I like this show probably as much as a white girl can.  There are a lot of comparisons to The Cosby Show being thrown around there, but as someone who grew up watching Cosby in real time, this feels like a completely different thing. Where the Cosbys were a family that also happened to be black, this is a black family. What does that mean? Hell if I know! I think what I'm trying to say here is this show manages to be very self-aware while being relatable and funny. It's good. I like it.



Now this is as white-girl a show as a white girl show can be. It's kind of difficult to get into, but Karen Gillan does such a convincing job of being that valley girl everyone hates while somehow managing to also be likable that I ended up watching the whole episode when I might have steered away after the weak setup. Also, had I not stuck in there I may have missed the fact that this show is vaguely based on My Fair Lady, which IS EVERYTHING TO ME AND DESERVES A MILLION ITERATIONS OF THE HIGHEST QUALITY! Whether this is that remains to be seen, but it's an easy thirty minutes so I say watch it.



So, there's a number of things you can do wrong when you're dealing with a subject matter that is pretty universally adored and still get away with it; you can be too heavy-handed, too campy, too dramatic, too nostalgic or just plain over-the-top and people will still excuse you because they want to like the show so they can watch the show and talk about the show with other people who are watching the show. What you can't do, under any circumstances, is be boring. You can't lose my interest. You can't lose my attention to Feedly every five minutes because then I'm just going to say screw it I'll come back to finish the episode later, which means never. I tried to watch this thing twice. TWICE! I'm at the 19:27 minutes marker and I just can't muster the energy to go any further. It should be all "Ooh, look it's the Riddler" and "there's young cat woman" or "Poison Ivy, wow!" I don't know why, but everybody in this show makes me tired. Even the chases seem slow. "A" for effort?



And then here's this show, which has no business getting watched all the way through. How many times are we going to do the thing where there's a hardened cop who finds an unconventional side-kick who doubles as a love interest? Now it's a guy who can't die because...he was struck by lightening one time? At sea? With a pocket watch? It's shoddy logic and a weak construct, but damn it if I wasn't entertained. Maybe it's the accent. I mean, look at the poster! Compare it to something like Gotham, where you've got some of the most famous and exciting comic book villains presented in a light you've never seen them before, with all the promise of fully fleshed out origin stories. Then there's Forever, which boasts a cityscape? Or this...




...a guy who looks heartily disappointed in me, somehow? I don't know what that look is, but it's not selling anything. And yet, the show was not bad. It was fine. I was entertained and I watched the whole thing. THAT MAKES NO SENSE! Maybe it's me; maybe I'm having a weird week or something. Hands up in the air - I don't know. 

Also, Hulu, I'd like to call you out on something here...

TOP 10 RECOMMENDATIONS FOR YOU

Since you watched...
How to Get Away With Murder - Episodes
|


Really? These shows have nothing to do with each other. What the hell!?

Next time, an unsolicited set of reviews on returning shows that I'm pretty much just going to adore the shit out of. Until then, feel free to check out the above shows and disagree with me in comments (please won't somebody disagree with me in comments; so lonely). 










Saturday, September 27, 2014

A New Post At Last

I don't think I've ever set up any expectation that my posting to this blog would be in any way consistent, either in frequency or quality. Why today, as opposed to any other day in the past three months, I've decided to return here is beyond me, except that I've just finished a very long and all-in-all very disappointing book and I have nowhere else to vent about it.

Another thing is, I'd hoped that my first post back would be something a little more momentous like announcing that I've finished that TV pilot script or...well, just that actually. I haven't. I'm two-thirds of the way through, but in all honesty that doesn't really matter since the entirety of it will have to be rewritten which I know doesn't negate the value of having written this version to start with but that it makes me feel like a failure. A slow failure.

There are a number of reasons why this version won't stand, not the least of which is the usual clumsy  structure and flat dialogue. It's too long. It doesn't make good use of conflict and there's an almost complete lack of subtext and dramatic irony. It's trying too hard. I'm at my wit's end with it because when I set out to write the thing it was this clear, entertaining but meaningful story that everyone was going to love - I mean, I enjoyed watching it unfold in my own mind (which sounds crazy, but unfortunately is not; a little insanity would likely make me a better writer).

And now the thing is on the page (computer screen) in its third iteration and still it's nothing like what I envisioned. The names are the same and they're all doing the things I thought they would do, but it's jumbled and doesn't feel the same as it did when I first planned it all out. And it's taken me so long - too long to write. It's painful. It's such a struggle to sit there and do the thing; even though I try to relax and just let the words come out without judgment I inevitably scrutinize every line and I hate them all.

I mean, what am I even doing this for? I know there's this thing writers do where they're like "oh god, it's so hard and such a struggle and blah blah blah" and it sounds so self-absorbed to think that writing should be made to seem so much harder than anything else. We make stuff up; how hard is that? Tried building a bridge lately? Fighting social injustices? Nursing?

Actually, I am a nurse and I can tell you firsthand that going to that hospital and putting in a thirteen hour day in which I will likely be dealing in the blood and body elimination of a number of other human beings with hygienic standards well below my own is less daunting of a task than sitting down to write a single page of this goddamn script!

Why?

Confidence. I know what I'm doing at work and when I do it well I have a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. There's nothing of the kind to be had when writing. I'm in constant doubt about my own abilities to produce something of the slightest quality and as such every move I make is called into question. It's torture, in a way, because I can't help doing it yet I'm miserable when I do and at the same time I beat myself up when I'm not doing it because I'm not doing it enough. What kind of hell is this?

I don't have a resolution to share and I'm sick of writing about this. I'm going to go watch The Mindy Project and finish my pint of ice cream with peanut butter thrown in there (for protein, you know) and maybe later I'll return to my script with a fresh perspective and try my hardest to grasp a sense of freedom in the acceptance that I'm hundreds of thousands of pages away from writing anything that is any good but if I keep going I'll get there someday.

That's sort of encouraging, right?

I want to throw something.  

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Bob's Burgers Puts Final Nail in the Thomas Edison Coffin

Get Netflix, watch this show.
So...what have I been up to? Gonna be real honest here, it's been mostly TV pilot writing, screenplay competition reading and Bob's Burgers on Netflix viewing. And the ratios for those three things aren't very good. Like, if the Empire State building were to represent the amount of time dedicated to Bob's Burgers, then my screenplay reading time would be best represented by the 1933 iteration of King Kong and my writing time represented by the unfortunate Ann Darrow (represented in the picture below by a kind of discongruent blip near the bottom, much like my writing).

"I should have thought this decision through more thoroughly!"

But I digress. Back to the point of this blog: Thomas Edison! Of course I've known for years that this man wasn't all grade school cracked him up to be, thanks in part to allusions made by TV and film (which is where I get most of my historical and scientific information). There was the movie The Prestige, which introduced the concept that Nikola Tesla was way ahead of Edison on a number of inventions that Edison was then able to steal with the help of the government. Then there was this Oatmeal comic to really drive it all home.

That's some hot hot alternating current Mr. Tesla/Bowie
But none of this - nothing - could have prepared me for Topsy. 


Edison, that sonofabitch, electrocuted an old circus elephant just to show how dangerous AC current was WHEN STRAPPED TO A LIVING THING! I mean, my god Edison! There's a microwave in every house, that doesn't mean you should SHOVE A CAT IN ONE TO PROVE HOW DANGEROUS THEY ARE! YOU FREAK!

Okay, the caps are getting out of control, but can I get an amen here? Anyway, Bob's Burgers manages to take this and make a really funny episode out of it while still shaming the shit out of Edison, so check it out. 

And Thomas Edison, you are DEAD TO ME! DEAD! I mean, I know you're physically dead, but I mean your ENTIRE LEGACY IN THE SCIENTIFIC COMMUNITY IS DENIED IN THIS HOUSE!  I am damn near tempted to HAVE CHILDREN just so that I can teach them what a MISERABLE LITTLE PISS ANT YOU ARE! 


Bob's Burgers Season 3 Episode 16
Anyway, check out the show it's really funny goodbye.