"The First Casualty of War is... Innocence..."

 

Even the poster cries 'nostalgia!!!!!'

... So declared the poster for Oliver Stone's 1986 masterpiece 'Platoon'.

And how true when it comes to this year's summer blockbuster 'Super 8'. Before I continue, I must state that I loved 'Super 8'. I had issues with certain aspects, but on the whole I loved it. Which says a lot in this day and age: Its an increasing rare occurrence these days when I buy a DVD of a recent release. I'm mostly buying 80's movies - possibly as its a nice, comforting, melancholy trip down memory lane; revisiting my youth etc.

But the same can be said about 'Super 8'. The best thing about it was the feeling of nostalgia. Not in the sense of, say, 'Stand By Me' (with lots of 1950's music etc.), but a nostalgia for cinema itself, and the rare sense of wonder that movies can produce. But I suspect director J.J. Abrams may have been attempting to emulate the 'magic' of Spielberg's early films - in particular 'E.T.' and 'Close Encounters Of The Third Kind'.

Super 8: Still better than Mini DV.

Here's what J.J. had to say about 'Super 8's' origins:

J.J. Abrams: "‘Super 8′ came out of two separate ideas. One was an idea of doing a film about kids making super 8 movies in the late 70’s, early 80’s. And the other one was an idea of a monster movie that I’d had. One was a group of characters I had loved, but without a story that I thought would compel people to go and see it. And the other was a compelling premise but with no original characters. So I kind of combined the two and found that they serviced each other in a cool way."

For those who haven't seen 'Super 8', I won't go into spoilers - its a film best viewed with little pre-viewing information.

For those who have seen it: Upon reflection, I'm left wondering if 'Super 8' needed the 'mystery thing'-element. Was the film good enough on its own i.e. the kids making a movie. Sure, its a summer event movie, and without the 'mystery thing', it wouldn't be an action/adventure/sci-fi movie. And while it was great watching all the explosions and effects, I felt the audience was missing out on the characters: The interaction between the kids was pretty much jettisoned when the aforementioned 'thing' entered the story; to the point where the kids ran around together as this unified clump: There was precious little room for the individual.

The kid in the yellow coat is now running Hollywood...

I was also questioning if the 'magic' I was watching was actually genuine, or was it just a Spielbergian wannabe, with all its lens flare and squabbling family dinner times... My conclusion is that 'Super 8' is an homage to Spielberg, and should have been more of its own original movie. And no, the 'mystery thing', as intriguing as the build-up was, didn't deliver the goods.

So why am I saying 'Its the blockbuster film of 2011'?

Its fair to say that 2011 has not been a great year for big movies. With the exception of 'Thor', the blockbuster season has been awash with 'okay' movies - but nothing outstanding. 'Captain America' was fun yet undemanding: A superhero movie which doesn't know what to do with a hero who has nothing particularly unique about him. 'Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes': Great FX, but cardboard characters and a distinct lack of any 'Planet' of so-called Apes. (Taking over a bridge does not count.)

Without its setting, backstory and characters, 'Super 8' would have easily fallen into 'just okay'. But its the emotional core that speaks to us and sticks with us long after the FX have dated. So lets have more of that, please...

Looking on with anticipation:
Can the studio system deliver a blockbuster with FX AND heart? 

Show me the....

Attack of the Clowns...

MONEY. Never let it be the centre of your existence, but we all need it, right? And sometimes people need help raising money.

UK Film maker Graham Inman is currently running an incredibly successful IndieGoGo campaign for the Leilani Holmes-produced / Damien Cullen-directed short film 'Clowning Around'. Read all about it here.

You can contribute as little as ONE DOLLAR to assist in the creation of their project - or $10, $25, $50 and so on if you're feeling generous - each stage of giving offers you something in return, too (the more you give, the greater the return).

So why should you contribute? The team of people involved in this project are looking to create a quality, world-class production - They have the talent and the ability, and whilst they have contacts and are no doubt pulling in all the favours and help they can - these things always require money. So if you have an interest in cinema and a passion for getting involved, head over to the 'Clowning Around' site.

"DISAPPOINTED."

Otto is not a happy bunny.

I recently read a post on Dominic Carver's blog (Its an old post, but I just discovered it! Finger on the pulse as ever.) about his disappointment at not winning the Red Planet script competition a year or so ago (Read it HERE.)

Being only too aware of his pain, it put me in a reflective mood. Whilst I would generally agree that dwelling on the past is not constructive and that its good to let rejection go and move on, there are lessons to be gleaned from such disappointment, as well as positive outcomes which may not be so evident at times of crashing disasters.

My personal Top 5 Disappointments - PART ONE:

LEAVING SCHOOL

My lasting memory of my final day at school was the look on my geography teacher's face when I answered his question "What job are you going to do after leaving school?" - "I want to work in special effects in films."

Of course.

And I gave it a good shot, being a kid who had extremely unremarkable exam results. I had always been fascinated by films (ever since witnessing a scene from 'An American Werewolf In London' - the bit where the guy at the tube station is chased. ITV chose to show this scene at lunchtime. I was about five years old. No wonder it stuck in my head...)

Not suitable for five year olds.

Anyway, to a film-obsessed teenager as I was at the time, I loved special effects in movies. To me, they were always the best parts of any movie (Rob Bottin's work in 'The Thing' being the ultimate, genius masterpiece of FX work ever). FX scenes were the classic parts that everyone talked about after the film had finished, the parts where you could let your imagination run wild (I was twelve. What did I know? Upon reflection, it was probably all to do with attention seeking...). I wanted to work in films. And FX, to me, was where it was at.

'One of these things is not like the other....'

I spent months writing to every production company and celebrity in the UK. I was young, naive, and it was 1991. I had a lot of positive replies, but not enough to secure regular employment. Reaching the end of my tether (and my parents tether, too), I had exhausted every avenue - apart from college. Having spent a large part of my early years hating school, this was not an idea I cherished.

Then my Mum mentioned that she had watched an interview on ITV-daytime staple 'This Morning'. Apparently Fred The Weather man had interviewed some guy who did effects on Star Wars. I had no idea who this person was, so I wrote to Fred The Weatherman (I don't think I actually wrote that on the envelope?), and asked for more info on this SPFX guy.

A few weeks later, the phone rings. Its Fred. He tells me that he's passed my letter on to the FX guy. Brilliant. What a dude. Fred ended the conversation with the immortal words "Better go, I need to get on my map."

Fred: A giant among (weather) men.

The FX Guy was also known as Chris Tucker. No, not the helium-voiced actor, just as Captain America does not also present the breakfast show on Radio Two. Chris Tucker did indeed provide effects for Star Wars, as well as The Company Of Wolves, Dune, The Elephant Man and a multitude of other movies. More weeks went by, until I received a call from Chris's assistant. It was a very positive chat, and I was invited down to Chris's house (which turned out to be a mansion in the woods, somewhere in Pangbourne).

Meeting Chris was a slightly different affair. He was a lovely person, very generous with his time, but as a 16 year old preparing to fall into his dream job, I was slightly stunned at his advice: "Go to college, kid - there's absolutely no work in the U.K." Chris went on to say how most of his work was with Bollywood, as our UK cinematic empire was all but dust and bones.

The disappointment was slightly lessened when Chris showed me around his FX room - I got to see Laurence Olivier's head! - but I eventually trundled home feeling none the wiser and more depressed. Around this time, I had purchased a very detailed (and expensive) FX make-up book, and had attempted sculpting (at the advice of Chris Tucker). It became very clear to me that FX people have a gift that I simply do not possess. I can draw a little, but I'm not an artist. These people were artists, and I simply wasn't in their league.

After some more weeks, I volunteered at a theatre on the reasoning that I might as well be doing something useful. Whilst working there, I met somebody who mentioned a college course they had signed up for (doing theatre sound design). I looked into the college, and discovered they also ran a video & tv course.

So I joined, and in my first few months at college, I was taught by tv writer David Hansen. It was the first time in years that I found anything education-related interesting. It also occurred to me that I had been writing short scripts and a couple of feature lengths scripts in my spare time - but only as a hobby/something for my own amusement. David was encouraging towards my very-silly-teenage-boy-scripts, and lo the germ of a notion formed into words akin to 'What if I wrote a real, proper script? With a story of some sort and characters that didn't have comedy names?'

And so I took writing seriously. I'd always loved writing and making my own books... Heck, I even won an award at school for the ingenious, imaginatively witty James Bond spoof 'Brooke Bond', which featured lots of tea/coffee-brand related character names (I was twelve at the time and should have probably known better, even at that age.). A year later, I had written my first 'real' screenplay. With a sense of achievement, I was ready to take on the world.

King of the world... for the next ten minutes.

COMING SOON: Episode Two - More Disappointment.

"Its not your job to be as confused as Nigel!"

"No one knows who they were or what they were doing..."

Many years ago, I was asked to help out on a promotional film - You know the sort: They make an advert of the film they intend to make, then show the trailer to potential investors etc. Never a good idea in my book, as the 'fake trailer' will never be fully representative of the finished feature film. In fact, it can have a detrimental effect: If your trailer looks cheap (because you don't have a budget), then your feature's prospects do not look rosy.

So I agreed to be the sound man/boom op for the trailer - for free (it was all last-minute rush-rush, and I figured it could be interesting). I arrive on location at an abattoir, somewhere in saaaarf Laaaandon. I'm the first person there... An hour later, I'm still the first person there. Hmm. Finally, the crew roll up in dribs and drabs; vans arrive and equipment is unloaded.

I meet the producer - my point of contact - and he thanks me for coming aboard at short notice. He leads me through to the equipment: There is a mountain of flight cases, tripods, dollys, jibs, mics, camera equipment...
Like a Terminator reeling off his shopping list of Uzi 9mm's and Phased plasma rifles in the 40-watt range, the producer had plucked every bit of equipment off the shelf. So why was I working for free, again?

Termy buys up the shop; Dick Miller buys the farm.

Anyway, I grabbed a mic from a selection of FOUR (we were shooting in doors, at a single location), found an SQN mixer... but nothing to record on to. I asked the producer how they were planning on recording sound - His response was to look at me, incredulous. So I asked again. "Well, you plug the mic into the camera!"

They were shooting on 16mm film.

After I explained that 16mm doesn't record sound as well as picture, things suddenly got serious. It was a Sunday; most hire companies were shut. The producer fled in search of a DAT machine whilst the camera crew shot the sequence - minus sound. The steadi-cam shot was rehearsed; I made a note of every sound I could hear... and waited for my DAT machine.

Eight hours later, the producer returns with a DAT machine. The shoot was drawing to an end, so I quickly got set up and ready to go. I re-created the route taken by the camera operator, recording all of the sounds (machinery, doors opening etc.) - but all I could hear was voices. People going home. Flight cases loading into vans. Pizza orders being shouted out. After the fifth time of calling for quiet, I managed one decent take of sound. Desperate to go home, I handed the DAT tape to the director and scarpered.

Monday morning, I received a call from the producer - 'Where's the DAT tape?'

Me: 'I gave it to Herr Director.'

Producer: 'Oh...'

Months later, I saw the trailer online: Minus sound, with b-movie 'horror' music playing over the images. Needless to say, it lost its impact and did not sell the film at all.

"You want a Pepsi Free, Pal, you've gotta pay for it!"

So what can be salvaged from this experience?

Equipment: You do not need to spend a small fortune on equipment for your film. Do your research; understand exactly what you need and don't need. Do not get a gadget fetish.

Sound: Its crucial. Bad sound will ruin your movie. No sound will result in dodgy library music.

Crew: Treat your cast and crew with respect, especially if they are working for free.

Finally: If you can pay for equipment hire costs, you can pay cast/crew expenses at the very least.

"Y'know, these work..."

Lieutenant Ed Traxler: Nowt wrong with his specs.

Repeat after me: "Show. Don't tell."


Yes, we get it. Nobody likes to read in a script (or see an actor reeling out) exposition and plot reminders again and again. That's not to say you can't ever do that - used sparingly, or in a comedic way, it can work. (e.g. The Terminator: Lance Henriksen's cop reels off a load of info for OUR benefit, and his boss Traxler gives him a wry slap-upside the head. Genius.)

Its a good rule to try to avoid patronising your audience. But I often find its easier said than done.

Having spent the past six weeks script editing my completed works, I've found polishing dialogue and perfecting character motivation the most challenging part of writing a script. Its where the hard work really comes in, constantly asking yourself 'How can I make this flow better, or at least in a more challenging or original way?' Not that everything I write is dire, I hasten to add/protest too much: But its having that inner 'coach' voice that pushes and drives you to improve: The literary version of 'Gimme 50 more laps!'

And then I watch a tv show like 'Treme'. Now I know I've been evangelical about this show: Tough! I'm not kidding, they should be handing out the scripts to film students, or at least make them available to buy. Its that good. In a couple of the latter episodes, I witnessed a couple of scenes that were so simple but effective - and a good example of 'less is more'.

Davis & Annie: Will they, won't they?

Firstly, there's an episode that centres around a Mardi Gras parade. Local DJ and general hyperactive loudmouth Davis crosses paths with street violinist Annie. They have a nice day together, and get on great. Later in the day, there comes a moment where you think Davis and Annie might make a cute couple - at least that's the look on their faces. And then Davis pulls out a joint, sparks up and offers it to Annie.

Unbeknownst to Davis, but known to the audience, Annie is struggling with a drug-addicted boyfriend. And for the time being, it derails any possibility of a blossoming romance. And its all said and done with a look.

Big Chief: 'Nuff Said.

Next up: Albert/Chief leads his clan through the streets, only to come up against another 'rival' procession: Things look heated. The two clan chiefs face-off, but ultimately show each other respect and pass-by peacefully. Later on, Albert and his clan come up against a group of aggressive cops. After a brief shout-down, one of the cops informs his colleagues to back off: Show respect to tradition. A lovely mirroring of a previous scene - one for the spirit world, the other for the real world. Again, not much is said, but having been informed that the first face-off was about showing respect, then second face-off has a deeper relevance.

Now where can I get my hands on those 'Treme' scripts?

"I'll show you the life of the mind!"

Jack Lipnick: Not one of those guys who thinks poetic has got to be fruity.

Jack Lipnick:  

"We're only interested in one thing, Bart. Can you tell a story? 

Can you make us laugh? Can you make us cry? 

Can you make us want to break out in joyous song? 

Is that more than one thing? Okay!"

Following on from the second biggest question in the universe "Why should your feature-length screenplay be made for a cinematic release?", I thought I'd stare deeper into the abyss and ask 'What is drama?'

A visual depiction of desperate times.

I recently read a great blog post by Filmutopia about drama vs. conflict.Or rather, drama is NOT about conflict: Its about what's at stake. The cost. What our 'hero' stands to lose. Then comes the varying levels of jeopardy: What is physically and emotionally at stake; relationships, career, sanity etc. And THEN what happens if our 'hero' has to choose between these treasured pathways?


A few years ago, when I was having one of those desperate 'Where is it all going?' moments, I wrote to director, writer and producer Walter Hill for advice. And why not? Made perfect sense at the time. "I'm stuck. There's no way out. Let's ask the man who is the master of 'No Way Out-ness.'"


So I asked Walter for his opinion on what makes a good film. The reply was most definitely from the man responsible for such classics as 'Southern Comfort', '48HRS', 'The Long Riders', 'Trespass', 'Red Heat', and most special of all - 'The Warriors'. (Not forgetting that he also produced the 'Alien' movies.)

Walter Hill: Can you dig it!

"There's an old quote of Howard Hawks I always liked, 
when asked 'What is drama?', he answered,

'Will he live or will he die, that's drama.'

I humbly agree.

Keep writing, good luck in the jungle."

So there you have it. In a precise little nutshell. 
Don't get caught up on time-filling incidentals - ALWAYS concentrate on what's at stake.

Pop quiz, hotshot...

... You receive good feedback from the BBC regarding your commercial feature length screenplay 'Viktorialand', but the closing comment is: "Why should your script be made for a cinematic release?" What do you do?

Its a question that stumped me, if I'm honest. My initial response is 'Why should ANY feature length script be made for cinema?' Most films could work as a tv series or a one-off drama. Likewise, a lot of tv shows have cinematic quality (HBO shows in particular).

On Saturday I went to a screening of 'Swinging With The Finkels' at the Apollo Cinema in London (a 'Script to Screen' event, hosted by Chris Jones). Find out more here!

'Finkels' Director Jonathan Newman

After the screening, 'Finkels' director Jonathan Newman discussed his journey as a film maker. His honest account of his experience was great to hear, and its fair to say he's had an amazing couple of years. After the screening, I grabbed five minutes with Jonathan, and I put to him the question that the BBC asked me:

What makes a feature length script worthy of a cinematic release?

Why not tv? 

• We have more of a 'television industry' in this country as opposed to a 'film industry'.
• Do ideas have to be BIG for a cinematic release?
• Is TV for telling, and cinema for showing?
• Is it about how the script is shot?
• Is it about big name actors in starring roles?
• What about all those films we've seen where not much happens, but its a GREAT film? 

'The Walking Dead': Cinematic in scope...

The Kings Speech: As not seen premiering on BBC4.

I've come round to the idea of television being a good home for certain projects of mine. Even those hard-sell projects which tv wouldn't know what to do with - why not make them as a web-series? Why is cinema our ultimate goal? 

'Another Year': Oscar-nommed slice of reality.

Take Mike Leigh's "Another Year". Great film, loved it, and it was up for some Oscars too, if my memory serves me correctly. But ask me what its about. Well, not much. Sure, stuff happens in the story, but the brilliance of it was spending a couple of hours with characters that you could relate to, and it was an emotional, poignant,  enjoyable experience. But why was it made for cinema? It could have been a tv drama on BBC 4. Recently, Gareth Unwin (producer of 'The Kings Speech') revealed the original intention for his Oscar-gobbling project was precisely that: Television.

Its a difficult question with no clear, obvious answer. It made me step back and look at my script 'Viktorialand': Could it be a tv series? A one-off comedy/relationship drama?  In my mind, I picked the story apart; adapted it into various formats - but each time it lost something. And the only answer I had as to why it wouldn't work as good on television, web, etc. - Because it is meant to be a film. Some scripts are meant for the cinema - so its my word against yours!

Yup, it all boils down to force of personality. If you're passionate enough, then you go for it. People might disagree strongly with you. You might not get the budget you want, or enough time to develop it fully (If someone approaches you saying 'I have a few million to spend of a film - will you be ready to shoot in seven months? You say 'YES!'). Your project might go straight to DVD and bypass the cinema altogether. But it is still a feature film. And that's what being a Guerilla film maker is - listening to and weighing opinion, but also being assured of your own.

Bueller... Bueller... Bueller: He did it his way...