Out of Focus

Over on Cinematical today is an interesting post titled “Screenplays you should read.” It falls under their “Cinematical Seven” category in which various writers make lists of seven … whatevers. (In this case, obviously, screenplays to read.) With the enormous number of great movies throughout history, it’s obviously quite difficult to come up with a list of just seven of anything. Lists of 10 are hard enough. In this case, Erik Davis provides a pretty interesting list. Importantly, however, he mentions a certain criteria I should note: “While the screenplays below aren’t the seven greatest of all time, they all share a unique and interesting voice.”

That distinction between “greatest of all time” and the simple criteria of “unique and interesting” is a complicated one, and obviously all of this is subjective. But as I started writing a comment to the post on their site, I realized I could quite easily come up with a list of seven myself, so why not? Except I couldn’t keep it to seven, and as I’m not writing a “Cinematical Seven” post, I suppose I don’t need to. Therefore, mine is a somewhat more standard list of 10, although I only have nine bullet points. (it all makes sense in the end.) The key thing to understand with my list, though, is that I specifically am referring to reading the screenplay, as opposed to inferring how good or bad the script may have been simply from watching the resulting movie. As I’m sure many of you can probably relate to, when you’ve read as many screenplays as I have for pleasure and for work, it doesn’t take too long to see that it is quite possible for a filmmaker to screw-up a great script. In fact, it happens regularly.

So my list, while also not simply the greatest scripts ever (if only because I haven’t read as many scripts as I’ve seen films), is simply a list of worthwhile reads. I have actually read some version of them all — sometimes post-release version, others earlier drafts, occasionally final shooting scripts. With one exception, they’re all screenplays of films that are among the greats or that should have been great, and that one exception is in a ballpark of its own. Additionally, some of these may seem surprising (maybe not); but all of them (uhm, with that one exception) are examples of brilliant screenwriting.

In no particular order:

Continue reading “OUT OF FOCUS 10: SCREENPLAY READING FOR FUN”

Last week, I wasn’t working at all. I suddenly went through that little spurt of posting because I was inspired (or something) and had the time. This week, I’m on another short temporary job today through Wednesday. Today at least, I don’t seem very busy, but I don’t know that I’ll necessarily get to a bunch of the various reviews, etc. I’ve been meaning to write either. I spent most of the weekend watching films submitted to the upcoming Tribeca Film Festival (some good, some not so good, but thankfully nothing rip-my-eyes-out awful), and starting to reacquaint myself with the oeuvre of Albert Maysles who I will be interviewing later this week. I started last night with Monterey Pop (directed by D.A. Pennebaker, but Maysles was one of the cameramen) and then watched the absolutely brilliant Gimme Shelter. Those damn Criterion extras — especially the audio commentary and the KSAN radio recordings — kept me up way later than intended. I really want to make sure I rewatch Grey Gardens and see at least a few of his Christo films (which I’ve never viewed).

Meanwhile, a few small items that caught my eye:

• I suppose I’m not surprised that as Variety reported today and has been rumored for some time that there will be a Fantastic Four sequel and director Tim Story will be back at the helm with Mark “I-don’t-care-that-you-co-created-Twin Peaks” Frost. This summer’s film inexplicably made $320 Million worldwide. I say inexplicably because Fantastic Four will certainly be near the top of my worst-of-the-year/top-Razzie-contender lists. It was seriously awful in just about every way imaginable, but most notably the piss-poor script and inattentive direction. I remember turning to my friend during the film and saying, “Was nobody paying attention to anything while making this movie?” I’m not going to say Story is a director of terrible-Bay proportions based on this one disaster (although paired with this it’s not looking good), but I have no hesitation saying that Bay’s summer flop The Island was 10 times the film Fantastic Four was, and it’s depressing that so many people went to see such crappy super hero tripe.

• I saw The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe last week, and I’ll have more to say about it later. However, part of me wonders if I should bother because Ryan Stewart at Cinematical — with whom I don’t always agree — basically nailed it, mentioning just about everything I’ve thought of, including the fact that the boys aren’t nearly as convincing as the girls (especially young Georgie Henley who everyone will spend the next few weeks comparing to Drew Barrymore in E.T.).

• Oooh … I bought tickets to the Iron & Wine/Calexico show tonight at Webster Hall ages ago, and I just learned that Sufjan Stevens is suddenly opening. I’ve just gone from tepid excitement (just because I’m tired) to full-fledged excitement. Yay!

• VERY VERY IMPORTANT: You know, just under a month ago I explained why I hate everyone. It involved the pending, although still officially unofficial, cancellation of the best show anywhere on television, Arrested Development. Well, November sweeps are over, and Arrested returns to Fox tonight at 8 PM. Watch it! And then when you don’t get it or don’t think it’s so great, watch it next week. And the following week. And eventually, you’ll catch-up and figure it out. You can speed-up your recognition of its brilliance with the DVDs of course as both previous seasons are available. If you know anyone with a Nielson box, tie them up and tune their TV to Fox from 8-8:30. I don’t care if they watch it or not — just get the damn rating. Can the show be saved? Probably not in the traditional way keeping it on Fox, but I still think if Twentieth Century Fox was smart, they’d keep it in production and shift it over to the FX Network where Arrested‘s 5-million-plus dedicated rabid fans and viewers would be the cable network’s biggest audience ever.

I’ve forgotten everything else. Oh well. Until later … or tomorrow.

A couple days ago in my first post about my disappointment with being unable to plug-in my laptop at Tillie’s, I mentioned an IM chat I had with a friend who was frustrated by the way certain people hog space at cafes and therefore is all in favor of ways of limiting that ability, e.g., not allowing people to use the cafe’s power.

Today I drifted slightly into my friend’s camp, however. Ultimately, it’s all about consideration, recognizing that a Starbucks really isn’t your office and that other people have as much a right to be and work there as you. Which is why when I sat down today, and asked the guy at the table next to me if I could use one of the two outlets in the wall directly between us — of which he was plugged in to both — his response of, “No I’m using them” kind of annoyed the shit out of me. It certainly wasn’t the end of the world. Thankfully the woman on the other side of me was about 7000 times nicer, helping me reach my power cord behind her chair and into the open outlet on the other side (uhm … that came out dirtier than I intended — you don’t know what I’m talking about? Never mind.), but it should never have been an issue.

People have been writing manifestos left and right recently. Or I just enjoy practicing hyperbole myself. But Lindsay’s camera manifesto — with which I wholeheartedly agreed — did create a brief stir within our lame insulated blog world. I wish their was a manifesto about laptop usage in a cafe that had just a couple brief points:

1. Don’t be cheap. If you’re going to sit some place for hours, at least justify it by buying something from time-to-time.

2. Don’t be selfish, Part I: Yes, laptops take up some space. At little round tables, they may take up the entire thing. Still, if the place is crowded, share. Especially if someone doesn’t have a laptop. Yeah, I like to be able to spread-out too, but we’re really only talking common courtesy here. This obviously also includes giving up a chair that your bag and jacket don’t really need.
   (UPDATE: In the comments below, Jette mentions a corollary which I with which I would agree: “I always tip when I’m using free wireless.” I would venture to say you should occasionally tip even if the place doesn’t offer free wireless. I don’t tip a lot, but usually I’ll either toss change in or put a dollar in at least once during my time there.)

3. Don’t be selfish, Part II: Back to those outlets. You get to use ONE! No more. If you have a need for more than one, bring your own damn power strip or extension cord or one of those little block things that turns one outlet into three. If you can come prepared with two or more items that need power, you can also spend the $1.99 to get an adapter. You don’t have the right to tell someone else (he/she … me!) can’t use one of the two outlets you’re monopolizing.

4. Don’t be selfish, Part III: You know how you took your bag and jacket off that chair. Try to stuff it as much as possible under the table. That includes that huge blockish portion of your power supply too. It’s one thing to dominate one table; it’s another to think you have some sort of personal safe zon on the floor around you. There’s no reason I should have to trip or kick your laptops transformer (or whatever that thing is).

5. Don’t be nosy. I don’t need privacy because I’m looking at porn, but I don’t need you actually reading what’s on my screen either. I don’t stare over your shoulder.

Hell, that might be it. If I come up with more, I’ll add it, but really, would those few rules be that rough. I mean, I know consideration for your fellow cafe squatter isn’t the first thing on your mind, but it would make the world (or at least the city’s cafes — Starbucks or otherwise) better places. Especially during this holiday season. (Sorry. Couldn’t resist.)

So I’m sitting here minding my own business tonight watching The Apprentice. If you’ve seen the show, you know that there’s always a scene where Trump describes the upcoming to task to all the contestants, and at this time we usually also meet a couple of representatives from whatever big-time corporation has decided to product place themselves for that week’s episodes. Before the contestants arrive, there’s always a very awkward scene where Trump makes some comment about how great these people’s company is. He often seems to not even know the executives names (and probably doesn’t), and he always manages to sound just a wee bit condescending.

Tonight’s episode, the task involves some new piece of Microsoft software called “Microsoft Live Meeting,” which apparently lets people simultaneously work on the same documents via the internet. But the best part was Trump’s opening comment which tonight was way more inane than usual, especially considering the company he was speaking to.

“Well, I use Microsoft a lot,” said The Donald, “and it works, so I’m very happy.”

No, thankfully Bill Gates was nowhere to be seen. These were two anonymous marketing execs, I believe, who couldn’t say anything other than, “Good. Good.” I wonder if Trump would have said anything different had his much wealthier counterpart been standing in front of him. I’m guessing no, but damn Gates’ reaction would have been fascinating. They should think of using Trump for inspiration with a new corporate tagline: “Microsoft. It works and will make you happy.”

I’ll admit it: I don’t read the art coverage on Slate so I’m unfamiliar with the rest of Lee Siegel’s work. I also am not a huge Spike Lee fan. I think he’s made a few great movies, a large number of incredibly mediocre ones, and he hasn’t really changed much as a director all the way back to She’s Gotta Have It and Do the Right Thing, always utilizing the same kind of low tracking shots and vaguely similar jazz-influenced music. I’ve also often been bothered by Spike’s rhetoric, especially the kind grounded in his consistent premise that African-Americans can’t be racist because how their race has been treated. Meanwhile, he has no problem regularly making comments about other groups, especially Jews, that could easily be construed and prejudiced, even if he disagrees.

I just finished reading this conversation on Slate between Siegel and Lee, and just loved this little exchange:

Slate: Of course, I was particularly interested in what you have to say about the situation of blacks in Hollywood. But also in your statements about the Holocaust. You pretty much said that any movie about the Holocaust is going to carry all the prizes.
Lee: Whoa, whoa! What I was speaking of specifically was the feature-length documentary branch of the academy. I mean, there was a time—you could do the research, I don’t have the chart in front of me—but for a period of over 10 years, almost every film that won best feature-length documentary was about the Holocaust.
Slate: That is an issue, right? It’s followed you throughout your career, the relationship between blacks and Jews.
Lee: It’s not an issue for me.
Slate: No, it’s an issue for everyone else.
Lee: I have nothing to do with that. But I remember thinking when we were nominated for 4 Little Girls and then finding out that a rabbi was a producer for the other one: We’re not gonna win.

Continue reading “STILL DECIDING IF THIS IS THE DUMBEST INTERVIEW I’VE EVER READ: SPIKE LEE TALKS TO SLATE, AND I FEEL SORRY FOR HIM”

You see, my little rant yesterday about the cafe Tillie’s in my new Brooklyn ‘hood was truly written with sadness and not venom. And just now I discovered why I really need a place like Tillie’s. You see, there’s this Starbucks I found in Manhattan, and, as I’ve alluded to, I come here regularly because unlike most Starbucks where you have to pay for a WiFi connection through T-Mobile Hotspot, this one must be near some kindly young or old soul with an open Airport connection. But aside from Starbucks being expensive and crowded and … well … Starbucks (even though this one has a warmer and more comfortable feel than most), I’ve always wanted to have my own little independent neighborhoody hangout that I liked and where the people knew me.

Yesterday I worked at this Starbucks for about four hours. The day before, for about five. Today, I got here around 3:15, just before they started having some free “party” giving away little cookies and bags of their ground Christmas blend. One of the women who work here came over to see if I wanted a taste of the coffee. I said, “Sure.” She said, “I’ll give you some cookies too. You work too hard. How long have you been here today? Four, four-and-a-half hours?” (Let’s skip over the fact that I’m here “working” on things because I’m unemployed and getting paid nada for all the things I’m “working” on, most of which involve trying to get a job!) “Uhm, no, I just got here. But I was here for a while yesterday.”

And that was it. I’ve been here so much over the past three days that the employees already know me, and joking about Starbucks being my “office” is no longer a joke. It’s just sad.

Oh Tillie’s. (sigh)

December is here and that means we can look forward to plenty of new releases timed specifically for awards consideration. The coming weeks will be chock full of Oscar bait from Brokeback Mountain and Memoirs of a Geisha to Munich and The New World. And that doesn’t even take into account wanna be blockbusters like The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, The Producers, Fun With Dick and Jane and, of course, some little movie about a big ape. And those are just the major studio releases.

But that’s got nothing to do with this weekend. The only major studio release is the apparently not-good-enough-for-critics Aeon Flux. Hopefully that will leave some space for a smaller new release like TransAmerica. It definitely leaves time and room for the rest of the great programming around NYC.

And isn’t that just a perfect lead-in for my “Weekend Movies” post at Gothamist?

So yesterday I wrote this little ditty about the Gotham Awards and I suppose, to some degree, I questioned their credibility. Today, after reading about the winners (via indieWIRE), I can’t help but question it further. Capote as Best Feature? Are they kidding? Capote is not a great movie. It’s a great performance — several, in fact, but really Philip Seymour Hoffman’s is the only one that matters. The script is average and the direction is at best competent, but never really interesting.

I haven’t seen either Keane or Brokeback Mountain yet, but I’ve heard amazing things about both. I wasn’t one of the many fawning over Me and You and Everyone You Know, but as an overall film, it was slightly stronger than Capote. Meanwhile, A History of Violence is hands down one of the best films of the year, certainly much stronger and bursting with more creativity than Capote. Oh right — and Capote director Bennett Miller won the “Breakthrough Director” award. You’ve got to be absolutely kidding me. If he gets a lesser performance out of his lead actor, this film is an utter failure and a bore. It’s main flaw was in its direction.

I never said Capote was a bad film — it’s not. But neither is it a great one. Certainly not great like the one which justifiably took home the Best Ensemble Cast award but wasn’t even nominated for Best Feature: The Squid and the Whale. No wonder I forgot about the Gothams originally. Apparently, their pointless.

I’m always sad when I learn about a writer whom I admire saying goodbye to his or her website. Obviously, it’s sadder when it involves someone actually dying, and that’s certainly not the case here. (In fact, it appears some of the opposite end of the life spectrum is involved.) Still, I just learned tonight that Liz Penn (a/k/a Dana Stevens) has decided that she is just too busy to continue writing her great site The High Sign.

OK, so the fact is, she hasn’t been writing on the site too much anyway, and why should she? It was never really a traditional blog — her intent was always to write one post/one review a week — and the quality of her writing was good enough to basically convince Slate and the New York Times to pay her to write TV and film reviews. So it’s hard to be sad for her or us when really it seems like everything’s coming up roses and she produces more content in those two professional outlets than she ever did on The High Sign.

I remember when I first discovered her site and read her film reviews, I thought to myself, “Hell, why doesn’t the Times hire her?” She writes circles around Manohla and especially Mr. Scott. Even when I’ve disagreed with Dana/Liz, at least I’ve always understood her arguments and appreciated her consistent ability to make a point and take a stance while never being pretentious and showy. (Seriously, she’s like the anti-AO Scott.)

So while the demise of The High Sign (at least for now) is a loss, at least we still have Dana. Personally, I’m actually hoping that soon she will be unable to write the leftover film reviews for the Times. With David Edelstein’s pending move to New York magazine, Slate could do much worse than switching Dana’s beat from television to film. I have no reason to believe that will happen, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed nonetheless.

Over at MBToolbox today, Claire Zulkey posted what’s basically an outline of a chunk of Robert McKee’s infamous “Story Seminar” (which she actually found here). Her premise was that McKee’s seminar (which in my book went from localized film-community “fame” all the way to infamy with its dead-on representation in the brillian Adaptation) is so expensive (true) or may not come to a location near you often enough (if you’re not in LA or NY — somewhat true too), that this website which looks to have essentially published the entire syllabus was a way for you to experience some of the content for free.

Well, if you’re willing to spend a little more than free but nowhere near $500, you’re better off spending about $23.10 (that’s the Amazon price) and buying McKee’s book “Story.” Hell, for even less you can hear McKee read the book-on-tape, in which case you basically are attending the seminar.

“Story,” the book, is basically word-for-word his three day lecture (because it’s way more lecture than seminar — he doesn’t respond well to questions except during the specific periods he dilineates for them). The only thing “Story” lacks is his detailed analysis of “Casablanca” (or whatever script he’s teaching now) during which you follow along script to screen and he looks at the film from not just a screenwriting but also filmmaking perspective. OK, so maybe it also lacks some more recent films which he uses as examples of certain issues, but as somebody who has been to his “Story Structure” seminar, attended a “Genre Day” looking at “Thrillers” and read “Story” the book, I doubt that he’s changed much of anything — except for a few titles — along the way.

I wrote an email to Claire about the above, and also mentioned the following, my own take on “Shecky McKee” as my friend likes to call him (because of the reptetitive and rehearsed schtick he includes in his seminars):

McKee is a pompous ass (as Adaptation also accurately depicted — Brian Cox really nailed him) and I’ve always found it somewhat funny/interesting that McKee has embraced his presence in the film that he includes mention of it on all his advertising. Still, what he proffers can, in fact, be pretty valuable. Personally, I think any prospective screenwriter gets in trouble if he/she explicitly follows any one method or technique of writing, but what McKee does is boil it all down to an almost scientific foundation, and ultimately that analysis can be helpful especially once a writer finds his/her own methods and techniques to implement that foundation. I’ve always been fascinated, also, by how he is always able to take any film that might seem to contradict one of his main points regarding story structure and still find a way to fold it into his argument.

So if you’ve ever considered taking his seminar, I wouldn’t exactly say don’t. But if you’ve already read the book, you will experience a significant long-winded case of deja vu.