Friday, July 4, 2008

Posted @ 14:47 GMT

is it too much to ask for plot and characters with the chest bursting?

Last night I watched Aliens vs Predator - Requiem, or AVPR as it's also known, and reckon the Alien/Predator franchise has hit its movie nadir.

I will admit a fondness for the original AVP. It's formulaic, but it featured a strong likeable central heroine, Alexa Woods, (Sanaa Lathan), a clear story, and it delivered a couple of cool smack-downs: my personal favourite is when the Predator swings the Alien around like a discus athlete and knocks chunks out of the temple wall with the Alien's head. Unfortunately, AVP contained too few moments like that. I wanted a bit more of Aliens and Predators knocking the crap out of each other. If that's the title fight then I want ten rounds, not three.

It also did something intensely irritating, which was to speed up the period of time that a person is incapacitated after s/he has been nabbed by a facehugger, and to shorten the gestation period of the Alien inside its host. Before anyone points a finger at me and calls me a film geek and Alien/Predator expert (both are true), these are specific issues that are central to the Alien mythos.

This change in timing had been happening already, such as in Alien Resurrection - although that film was inconsistent about it for the purposes of plot. This can drain potential drama from the film.

There is a wonderful scene in Alien Resurrection when Ripley says to Purvis, an infected guy: "There's a monster in your chest. These guys hijacked your ship, and they sold your cryo tube to this... human. And he put an alien inside of you. It's a really nasty one. And in a few hours it's gonna burst its way through your ribcage. And you're gonna die. Any questions?" Purvis: "Who are you?" Ripley: "I'm the monster's mother." It's great dialogue delivered for chilling effect by Signorney Weaver, who did a fantastic job in that film.

AVP has a scene at the end of the film that was obviously a set up for another film. Sorry, if you haven't seen the film by now you're unlikely to do so: in it the dead predator is carried on board the spaceship, and despite the fact he's been dead for some time the final image is of an Alien bursting out of his chest. It's an Alien with Predator features, or an Alienator I as dubbed it last night (an appropriate title considering AVPR did a good job of alienating me).

This aggrieved me when I first saw the film, because I wondered why an advanced technological race like the Predators didn't have anything on board their super-cool spaceship that scans for infection or biological parasites, especially after a known encounter with the Alien race? It's just ridiculous. Plus, it has already been shown that predators can see an alien infection inside a body using heat imaging.

This is when I know that the people writing or directing the film have no real understanding of science fiction, or any appreciation for the intelligence of their audience. Such questions are swept aside with a "it just happens" presentation. The Alien/Predator world has been very well established by a succession of films, and meddling with the rules of the world, or not considering them with any kind of thought, just proves that these films are money-spinners, nothing else.

AVPR has almost nothing to recommend it. First off the plot is muddled, but most unforgivable there is no clear hero. This is crucial to action flicks, and especially this franchise. It feels like there are dozens of characters running around in the beginning half of the film, and several of them are introduced far too late. It's not until the last half hour that it becomes obvious with whom we're supposed to be empathising. The film should have put Dallas (Steven Pasquale) and Kelly (Reiko Aylesworth) front and centre early in the film, instead of messing around with countless subplots and character stories I never cared about anyway. Both Pasquale and Aylesworth are good actors, and had the potential to leave us with lasting memories if the characters had been written properly. And, I must add that I didn't take well to naming one of the characters Dallas. Someone probably thought it would be a nice homage to Alien, but since this is such an inferior film it feels like a lazy slap.

Not only is the script a mess, but the direction is dreadful. Colin Strause and Greg Strause (The Brothers Strause is their borg-name) can't even frame characters well in the same shot. Their background is in visual effects, and the film is lousy with SFX - but most of the scenes are so dark you can't tell what the hell is happening.

Again: cheated! When you blow up Aliens using nifty Predator tech I want to see it. Plus, why weren't there some new weapons? Half the fun with these films is oh-ing and aw-ing over the gadgetry. I remember sighing in delight at the tanks and guns in Aliens, and the whizzy-bang toys in Predator 2 (yeah, I was a bit unusual for most girls my age).

Worst sin: the film is never scary.

The location of the film is all wrong. All the Alien films have placed their stories in tight, isolated, claustrophobic settings. Even AVP understood enough about the series to do this. This is partly because the contamination threat from Aliens is one of the inherent dangers of the species. Predators, on the other hand can operate in wide settings because their threat has to do with their singular purpose and their stealthy mobility. Once Aliens are given any kind of foothold in an unsecured environment you might as well take the cyanide pill because those guys will do what they do best and infect every possible lifeform.

Yes, I have thought about these things because the filmmakers obviously have not done so. Anyone who writes fantasy or science fiction knows that credibility is an important factor in creating a world. Often it doesn't take a lot of work because your audience wants to be taken on journey somewhere else, but you have to prove to them that you have thought through the more obvious problems of introducing two extremely hostile alien races onto our planet.

(I won't even discuss the strange twist they put in the film that combined human pregnancy with Alien incubation - it came in late, and they never exploited it for its true gruesomeness. Oh, and showing a child infected by an Alien in such a casual manner just smacks of cheap exploitation, rather than trying to be subversive or using the situation to create genuine dread.)

One of the things that bugs me about introducing Aliens to earth during a timeframe set in our present is that it screws with the original Alien films, which are set in the future. I can only hope that AVPR didn't earn back enough to cover its costs, and Hollywood will spare us from tinkering with the franchise again.

I won't even mention the lame ending, which contained a little nod towards the fans: too little too late lads!

I think this is a Highlander 2 situation: close your eyes, and singsong, "La, la la, it doesn't exist."

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Posted @ 11:04 GMT

this fleeting life

Today brings the expected but crushing news that Frank Darcy has passed away. Frank was very active in science fiction circles in Ireland, and is perhaps best known as the organiser of P-Con for the last few years.

How do you summarise a person's life in a couple of words? It's at times like this I don't feel up to the job. The adjectives kind, dedicated, thoughtful, humorous, and generous can all be applied. Warm-hearted and friendly come to mind.

But it can't even touch upon the depth of Frank, who had a young family, and many dear friends, who will miss him sorely.

My sincere condolences to his wife and children.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Posted @ 15:16 GMT

good reading and poor viewing

Hurray! Today the postie delivered my handsome contributor copy of Shroud Magazine, issue 2. I'm sharing the edition with my rather more famous countryman, Kealan Patrick Burke, along with Colleen Anderson, Steve Vernon, Marie Brennan, Nathaniel Lambert, Nate Kenyon, Tom Piccirilli and Ken Bruen, and Christa M. Miller. It's a beautiful, well-produced, magazine. I'm proud my short story "Home" is in it.

Recently, a mysterious benefactor in RTÉ sent me a free copy of Halloween (2007), the version (re)written and directed by Rob Zombie. I've gone on record in the past of not enjoying Rob Zombie's films. Mr. Zombie likes the monsters who chop up and mutilate other folks. The victims are secondary in his films. What he admires are the leering grotesques.

His version of Halloween has not changed my opinion of his work. The film is really about Michael Myers, and a least a third of the movie is spent detailing his evolution from troubled child to psycho slasher. The Zombie version of Halloween has Michael the product of screwed up trailer trash parents - his Mom is a stripper, and his step-Dad is a bum and layabout. This is pretty stereotypical stuff, in which the working classes are a hotbed of violence and a breeding ground for sociopaths.

Characters posses that marionette-feel of them jerking around the scenes and opening and closing their mouths based on plot and script lines. They have no believability. In particular, Michael's mother is farcical: she loves her monster son, and visits him for a year or two in an asylum after he has killed her daughter and husband. Yet, in a moment of crisis she commits suicide, leaving behind a baby girl. This series of events strikes me as being written by someone who has no clue about women or their motivations.

The film does something that particularly annoyed me: it threw in a totally gratuitous rape scene in which the point of the action is to activate the monster, and the woman being brutalised is incidental. This encapsulates Rob Zombie's vision: victims are needed for monsters, and otherwise they are of no consequence.

As it happens, SciFi Channel is doing a John Carpenter retrospective this week, so I watched Halloween (1978) to refresh my memory (he co-wrote the script with Debra Hill). Carpenter's film situates the horror in the middle class estates of America. He wisely doesn't attempt to analyse Michael: a cute blond aberration, born into a middle-income family, but he turns against them, and in particular his sister who is screwing around with her boyfriend. Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasence), Michael's jittery shrink, repeatedly refers to Michael as the devil, as a force of nature that must be contained or stopped to protect others.

Carpenter constructs a monster that is terrifying because it is blank-faced and relentless. It does not possess mercy or kindness. It kills because that is its sole purpose. And Carpenter establishes this with brisk efficiency and gets the action back to suburbia to focus on Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis), who is stalked by Michael. I don't find Halloween scary any more, but it is still creepy in places. In particular, Carpenter manages to convey the childish fear of the middle-class home when it is transformed at night into its shadowy double. Even Carpenter's minor characters have hints of depth, and are sympathetic. You may not like all of them, but they are understandable. They don't deserve to be killed, and you don't want that to happen. I'm somewhat nonplussed by many modern horror films that populate their films with annoying or nasty characters - is it the lame notion that it's okay to kill people if the audience doesn't like them?

There are many great scenes in this film, and the signature music works despite my familiarity with it. One moment that is effective without a lot of props is when Loomis approaches the asylum, and the headlights of the car pick out the ghostly figures of inmates in their gowns wandering the grounds. The audience never has to see inside the asylum. We know what's happened.

I love when Michael's mask seems to float out of a darkened doorway to hover over Laurie's shoulder, before he attacks. Or when he sits up in the background, as Laurie shakes in the foreground. The scene in which a bleeding Laurie screams and bangs on the door of a neighbour only to be ignored is a telling moment: this neighbourhood is about façade, do not bring real problems into the spotlight.

The final disappearance of Michael highlights that he cannot be understood or contained. He originates from within suburbia, and is part of its leafy avenues and clipped lawns. Carpenter's final static shots of silent darkened interiors and then the suburban street cement this notion.

Carpenter helped shape an entire genre of horror films through Halloween, and it remains a classic because it contains thrills, jolts, and an iconic monster. It also has subtext, and indicates that its creator put thought into what underpins the film.

In comparison Zombie's version is a shallow attempt to hijack the back story of Michael Myers to his own ends: to valorise the monster, and to say: "Hey, he's fucked up too... and isn't it cool when he stabs this person to death?"

Give me Carpenter's version any day. Thirty years later it still holds up to repeated viewing. In 2037 I doubt anyone's going to care too much about Zombie's version of Halloween, but the original will still be remembered.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Posted @ 16:22 GMT

partners

Bye bye June, July beckons.

I'm chugging away on research and will be plotting and outlining the screenplay quite soon. In fact I've been doing this for some time, but in this case I'll commit my thoughts to pixels. I've been pulling at the strings of the story over the past few weeks. Sometimes I braid them, other times I tangle the ends up hopelessly. Ultimately, I'm showing the ideas to my back brain, so it will come up with the good stuff.

Or at least, a combination of conscious me and subconscious me will figure it all out. We are the dynamic duo: the chatty intellectual one, who does all the heavy lifting, and the rather surly creative type, who mutters and scowls, but is a dishevelled genius. The first has to turn up and type every day, while the other one drinks coffee at the back door and stares at clouds. When the first one complains at this slothful behaviour, the other one roars, "Can't you see I'm working!"

It's amazing we get anything done.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Posted @ 17:18 GMT

trampling virgin soil

Today is a good mail day.

Not only did I get a cheque for my short story "Home" from Tim Deal at Shroud Magazine, but I received the latest edition of Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet, which is always cause for celebration. It contains a new story by Maureen F. McHugh, whose molecules are imbued with awesome, and whose writing always pulses with genuine emotion. I can't wait to read it, and the other work by an impressive line-up of talented writers.

In the meantime I'm enjoying my stint in research-world, one of my favourite places to explore. Sometimes I discover entire new continents, and stand upon the shore breathless at the novelty of the land. Other times while wandering along a well-trodden path I notice a boreen obscured by tangled undergrowth and draping branches. I pull out my machete and cut through the briars and vines until I stand in a glade of informational treasures I've never witnessed before. It's worth the muck and the insect bites.

Alas, eventually I will have to retreat with my bags stuffed with knowledge, and attempt to apply it to my screenplay. Research is wonderful, but it can be a distraction from the graft of writing.

Tally-ho!

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Posted @ 12:28 GMT

goals and weather

It's June 22nd, which means it's the start of Clarion West in Seattle, the annual six-week residential writing workshop, where up-and-coming writers learn the joys of composing short stories to deadline while sleep deprived and caffeinated. Therefore it's also the start of the Clarion West fund raising Write-a-thon, and I'm participating. So, sponsor me in my aim to write a complete feature film screenplay during the coming six weeks.

I'm in research mode at the moment, and will be plotting and outlining soon. I already have the opening and closing scene in my head, along with the guts of what's going to happen. Hopefully, it will be fun and entertaining -- well, on the page anyway.

The weather in Ireland is proving its reputation for being capricious (and a little bit mean). The evening of June 20th, as we moved towards the apogee of the summer, was fabulous. I strolled in the woods--bursting with flowers and bristling with undergrowth--with Martin while our dog scampered around hunting out smells. Summer's promise was spread out around us.

The following day I woke to gloomy skies and gusting winds. It was cold, and raining intermittently. In the evening we had two monsoon-like downpours accompanied by thunder that turned my back yard into a temporary lake after five minutes.

Today, it's overcast and blustery. Now the solstice is over it appears that autumn has arrived early in Ireland!

Ah well, I'm sure more sunny weather will turn up eventually...

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Posted @ 13:56 GMT

3 x 10

The International Herald Tribune has an article today that lists the American Film Institute's "10 Top 10", which is the AFI's top 10 films in each movie genre: Animation, Epics, Courtroom Drama, Fantasy, Gangster, Mystery, Science Fiction, Sports, Romantic Comedy, and Westerns (where on earth is Horror?).

As expected, I have quibbles with the lists, and in particular I notice the strong emphasis on films made before the 1980s. I think it's an indication of the greying of the AFI's membership, rather than a true reflection of the merits of films in recent decades. For instance, I can't understand why Gladiator doesn't feature in the Epics Top 10 (they could chuck out Titanic instead).

So, here's my favourite 10 for Animation, Fantasy and Science Fiction - but, all these films have been made since 1977. I haven't numbered them as many are too close to call.

Animation

• Toy Story
• Spirited Away
• Toy Story 2
• Finding Nemo
• The Incredibles
• Lilo and Stitch
• Akira
• Monsters Inc.
• Princess Mononoke
• The Iron Giant

The Animation category is by far the strongest field in the last few decades. There has been a welcome emphasis on the importance of storytelling, often combined with lashings of humour. Animation overlaps with the science fiction and fantasy genre as well, which makes this a tricky one to whittle down. There is also a huge amount of Anime, much of Miyazaki's oeuvre, and other treats such as Les Triplettes de Belleville which unfortunately don't make the cut. People might be surprised that Shrek isn't in my top ten. It would make my top twenty, however.

Fantasy

• The Princess Bride
• The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring
• Labyrinth
• Highlander
• Pirates of the Caribbean
• Night Watch
• Big Trouble in Little China
• Videodrome
• The Purple Rose of Cairo
• Who Framed Roger Rabbit?

The Fantasy section is difficult because it depends on one's definition of the genre. I've included films underpinned by a surreal or fantasy element. There was a slew of films I didn't mention such as Legend, The Chronicles of Narnia, City of Lost Children, Being John Malkovich, The Fountain, Willow, Brotherhood of the Wolf, Beastmaster, and Krull (several of these are guilty pleasures). Fantasy often edges strongly into horror too. Again, I've had to make a call about what element I thought was dominant. There are a bunch of Asian films that could be included here. The AFI, no surprise, is focused on American films, but I'm not.

Science Fiction

• Alien & Aliens
• Bladerunner
• Matrix
• Terminator 2
• Pitch Black
• Brazil
• 12 Monkeys
• Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
• Robocop
• A Scanner Darkly

The science fiction category was particularly difficult for me to squeeze down to ten. I wanted to mention Star Wars, Primer, E.T., Red Planet, Back to the Future, Donnie Darko, Dark City, Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978), The Prestige, Cube, The Thing, X2, Total Recall, Time Bandits, and Predator for instance. It was interesting to note how much of science fiction overlaps with horror, and sometimes, fantasy. In that list I tried to privilege the science fiction trope over other elements.

Of course, much of this comes down to my taste in films. I like weird and quirky, but mostly I like a compelling story. There are certain films that tug on my imagination in strange ways, so I've selected with my preferences to the forefront.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Posted @ 17:25 GMT

the hammering of my heart is good news

It's always lovely when science backs up your vice. According to a study conducted in Spain women who drank two to three cups of caffeinated coffee per day had a 25 percent lower risk of death from heart disease.

That's because my heart gets extra exercise from the caffeine stimulation!

Time for another sip from my black Americano, brewed at home in my Gagia espresso machine using freshly ground Munkey Espresso beans.

I lavish care on my heart!

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Posted @ 14:19 GMT

splish splash

At some point when I was a kid I encountered the idea of a waterproof radio that could be used in the shower. I'm sure I first saw it on a film or a TV show, but I thought the idea was fantastic. Imagine, being able to shower and listen to music! I've always had a determination that I would get one.

Yet it was only this week I attained the goal. I went to my local Lidl, and purchased a shower radio for the princely sum of €7.99.

You know what, it was awesome having a shower and listening to the radio. I left it on as I went through the rest of my daily ablutions, and I got the useful warning from the local weather forecast that I could expect downpours later in the day. This small purchase made me happy in a simple and practical way. Martin commented: "If only all life's ambitions could cost so little."

It also happens that I've been listening to the new West of Ireland station i102-104fm lately, and enjoying it. The station has a focus on a young audience, so it doesn't play any tune that's pre-1990, but that's okay. I have an extensive library of music for when I want the old skool trax. What's great fun about i102-104fm are the local accents, the madcap surreal humour that's a signature of the West of Ireland, the energy of the DJs, and the audience participation (by text and email).

TV presenter Hector Ó h'Eochagáin and comedian Tommy Tiernan do a show on a Friday afternoon for a few hours that has me wondering when they'll be taken off the air. It's hilarious, oddball, and pushes the boundaries of taste like worn knicker elastic. Yet it's infused with the breakneck energy of the two fast-quipping hosts. Since Hector is a native Irish speaker there's even cúpla focal thrown in, but in that crazy Irilish mash-up that makes it comprehensible to even those of us with a creaking memory of the Irish language.

In fact, several of the presenters speak Irish - such as Fergal D'Arcy on the "I Go Home" afternoon show, and Barbara Nic Dhonnacha on the biligual evening chart show, "Ar Éileamh". It's all done in a fluid and non-intrusive way, and it's wonderful to hear Béarla agus Gaeilge intermixed. I'm even picking up a few phrases here and there.

After a time, however, if you listen to the programmes back-to-back you are very likely to hear several tunes a lot. Mostly, I put up with that irritation. It does cement my opinions about songs: if I can deal with hearing a tune on a regular basis then it's got something worthwhile.

For instance, I've always been baffled by the intense love that Coldplay inspires in people. The band strikes me as being of a lineage of British music that I never warmed up to: Oasis, Dido, and David Grey for example. Yet, because I'm having to listen to "Viva La Vida" on heavy rotation I have to admit that it's the kind of uplifting number that tends to get your foot tapping against its will.

Just don't pay too close attention to the lyrics, because I did and now my foot won't tap anymore. It appears to be about the death of empire and tyranny until you listen to the triumphal Christian messianic tone of the chorus. Having a quick scan of some reviews of the album I see I'm not the only who has noticed the mixed messages in the band's latest offering.

I've no problem with songs that are unabashedly pop entertainment. In fact, I love boppy numbers that you sing along to in your car, or in the kitchen as you've making dinner. So, come on Coldplay, just 'fess up. You don't really have that much depth, do you? That's fine, just drop the pretensions, and deliver the melodies.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Posted @ 18:45 GMT

make room, make room

Recently I've been on a decluttering drive. I go through phases where I feel suffocated by the piles of stuff I accumulate. So, I thin it out. I pare everything back to the essentials, so I can see clearly, and hear my own thoughts without the pressure of those unread books and magazines, and the un-filed bills nagging at my mind.

This time it's been a steady pogrom in different areas of the house. I've cleared out my closets in a ruthless and hard-hearted fashion: if the clothes didn't fit then they were donated to someone who could use them. Old dishes and useless pots were ejected from the kitchen. I've fecked out all the old cosmetics and drabs of shampoo from the bathroom cabinet.

I've reorganised my files, and my office desk is clear for the first time in six months. I'm actually paying attention to the garden and the flowering pots for the first time in far too long.

Now, I'm eyeing up the books and graphic novels.

Yes, you.

Sure, I love you, but there are so many of you now, and you're all competing for attention, because you know I can't be let into a bookshop or convention's dealer's room without committing adultery. Aye, I'm faithless. All it takes is the name of a favourite author on a paperback, or a stunning cover flirting with me with its streamlined space ships, fetching heroine, or abstract suggestion of coolness for my resolve to vanish. I forget the books at home, with their patient saintly affection, and pick up a gaggle of floosies and gigolos and trip back home with them.

The interlopers think they have it made for a while as they lord it over the other books from the top of the tottering precipice I call the to-be-read stack. Soon, they too discover the muffling heartbreak of dust and neglect.

I can't take your forbearance any more. It's the second-hand bookshop for ye. Well, some of you. The reference books are staying. In fact, I need to organise them so they're all together and within easy access.

But, the blocks of tsking fiction will be culled. Honestly, how likely is it that I'm going to re-read you? Don't give me those doe-eyes! Yes, we had good times together (well, except for that hideous Laurell K Hamilton novel that gave me a suspicious rash within the first 70 pages), but I hardly have the time to read the newcomers, don't mind re-visiting old texts.

Well, of course I won't be getting rid of you, lovely Watership Down. I've had you for a lifetime, and your yellow pages and creased cover testify to the strength of our commitment. And, no of course I won't be shipping off the collected works of Shakespeare, that has hand-written notes in it from several members of my family dating from secondary school and college.

In fact, I am already totting up a large number of exceptions - damn the memories pressed into the pages!

Still, the rest of you... be warned. I'm resolved!

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Posted @ 23:30 GMT

sponsored adventures in writing

I'll be taking part in this year's Clarion West Write-a-thon, which is a fund-raising event that shadows the six-week residential workshop (June 22 - Aug 1).

The Clarion West Writers Workshop is a non-profit educational organisation whose ethos is about giving emerging writers the space, teachers, and tools with which to improve their craft and evolve into damn fine writers of speculative fiction. It's an expensive endeavour, and Clarion West not only offsets each student's costs, it also offers scholarships to many of the students. I was the recipient of the Gordon R. Dickson Scholarship in 2006 and it was a tremendous aid. Carving out six weeks of your life to this process is costly in many ways, and I've always been humbled and grateful for the Clarion West community spirit.

Please consider sponsoring me in my six week goal: to write a complete feature film screenplay. This is a story that's been on my mind for many years. It's a summer action flick that features spies, go-go boots, car chases, double-crosses, humour and a kick-ass heroine. In my mind it also has a rocking soundtrack.

The French filmmaker John-Luc Godard once said: "All you need for a movie is a gun and a girl." In my opinion "All you need for a movie is a girl with attitude." She'll find a way out even if there's no gun to hand.

I'll post regular updates on my progress, so watch this blog for the starting point on June 22nd. I'm beginning my research already, although I hope to finish up a couple of other pieces I'm currently working on before I immerse myself in the world of well-tailored espionage. All donations to Clarion West will be put to good use, and it will also serve as a fantastic incentive for me to write and finish my script.

Since I'm on the subject of screenwriting, I thought I'd mention that celtx, the free open-source all-in-one media pre-production software, has just hit Version 1.0, and is now available to download for a variety of platforms.

I haven't had much time to play around with this version of celtx but it looks amazing. Not only can you write screenplays on it, but you can also write for all types of media, such as documentary, theatre, machinima, comics, advertising, gaming, music video, radio, podcasts, videocasts, and however else you choose to tell your story. You can also use it to write storyboard scenes and sequences, develop characters, breakdown & tag elements, schedule production, and prepare detailed and informative production reports for cast and crew.

If you're unfamiliar with the product check out this 7-minute video by Mike Jones, Head of Technological Arts at International Film School Sydney, who explores some of the product's new features.

I'm seriously considering writing my new screenplay using celtx 1.0.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Posted @ 14:04 GMT

the Depp Effect

At the weekend I watched the MTV Movie Awards, and marvelled at how low the awards show has fallen. At one point it was the satirical edgy ceremony that appreciated the value of popular entertainment cinema, which the higher brow awards often ignored.

Now, it's just a way to promote summer movies. Mike Myers was the host this year, and didn't do a bad job, but how can you elevate a show in which every presenter pimps his or her latest film or DVD? It's sheer bad taste masquerading as amusing self-mockery. It's an event bankrupt of credibility or class.

Even the fun "bits" are tainted. Again, each one was about promoting a film, where in the past they lampooned the movies. The best one was Iron Man vs Kung Fu Panda vs Tropic Thunder, but it's hard to go wrong with Ben Stiller, Jack Black, and Robert Downey Jr. All three were on top form, even if it was all about selling their movies.

What was most interesting was watching the Depp Effect in action. Johnny Depp won both Best Comedic Performance (for Captain Jack Sparrow) and Best Villain (for Sweeney Todd). He accepted the awards in his shy, rather inarticulate, manner while women in the audience swooned and the crowd went wild. The man is legend.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Posted @ 11:49 GMT

Yo, let me bust the funky lyrics

INT. KITCHEN - MORNING

An espresso machine gargles and hisses as it warms up.

Maura - wearing soft white slippers, jeans, and a t-shirt purchased in Japan that features a skull wearing a cowboy hat - dances across the floor.

She's singing a strange improvisation of the MC Hammer tune, "You Can't touch this".

MAURA
(singing)
Stop, coffee time!
Her dog, Minnie, cocks her head, and emits a single whine of worry.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Posted @ 12:51 GMT

it's just a woman's film

The new Sex in the City movie is out this weekend, in case you haven't noticed the extensive promotion. In all likelihood I'll go see it at some point - maybe not the opening weekend. Sex in the City was a show I watched, but often felt ambivalent about its messages. What was enjoyable, however, was the women's perspective on the world. I'm not even the perfect target demographic: I don't obsess about makeup, clothes, or shoes. I don't own anything by Chanel or Manolo Blahnik. Yet, I liked the female dynamic on the show.

So, I go into a slow simmer of anger when I read this article from the Associated Press, which speculates on the success of the film.

You only have to look back two years to "The Devil Wears Prada," another female-oriented film heavy on fashion (with the same costume designer) and juicy female characters, to find a movie that scored big despite an overwhelmingly female demographic.

But there's a difference: "Prada" was rated PG-13, whereas "Sex and the City" is rated R, with good reason, as any fan of the series knows. That will severely limit the teen audience (those under 17 must be accompanied by a parent or guardian).

"This movie really will be a paternity test for R-rated female-driven romantic comedies," said analyst Jeff Bock of box office tracker Reel Source. "There haven't been a lot of movies like this." Bock predicts the movie will have a strong opening weekend, then a big drop-off. "There's no getting around that this is a film oriented to women and gay men," he said. "It will be very hard to get past that, especially with a lot of testosterone-driven films out there this summer.

(My italics - am I the only one who finds this particular phrasing incredibly telling?)

Yes, because despite the demographic evidence that women constitute at least 50% of the population, and make most of the significant financial decisions in homes, the studio executives don't know if they can trust women to go to a girlie film when there are all those buff superhero films as an alternative.

In the past few years I have despaired at the paucity of strong or interesting roles for women in feature films. This is a situation that is getting worse, rather than better. At the moment on the big screen women proliferate as secondary characters who must be saved by the hero after being menaced by the villain, or their purpose is as a two-dimensional plot device that propels the hero towards his destiny, or as the funny side-kick, or at the impossibly attractive girl who ends up validating the ego of the nerdy guy. The "chick" films that have traipsed past me recently - and I can't bring myself to watch them - are either centred on weddings or finding the perfect man. Of course there are a couple of exceptions, but otherwise tumbleweeds are bouncing along the desert landscape that is women's films.

I'm not the only one who has noticed. Manohla Dargis writing in the New York Times a few weeks back asked "Is There a Real Woman in This Multiplex?" She pointed out: "Last year only 3 of the 20 highest-grossing releases in America were female-driven, and involve a princess ("Enchanted") or pregnancy ("Knocked Up" and "Juno")."

Women want to see themselves in films. Therefore, even films that laud the 1950s status quo about women's aspirations (27 Dresses) will get an audience, because there is so little out there aimed at a female audience. Would it be too much to ask for a decent story and three-dimensional characters too?

Women will watch and enjoy films that are dominated by male actors because those films are properly financed and well-crafted, and the hero's journey is privileged in our society as the important story to tell. We all respond to that kind of movie because we are conditioned to do so - partly because there have been so few alternatives for women.

At the end of her article Dargis says:

Among the pleasures of the movies are the new worlds they open up, but there are pleasures in the familiar too, like seeing other women bigger, badder and more beautiful than life. And whether it’s Sigourney Weaver in "Alien," Rosario Dawson in "Death Proof" or Meryl Streep in whatever, I am there. The black filmmaker Tyler Perry has built his success partly on the truth that when audiences look up at the screen what they want to see are faces much like their own. In 2008, when a white woman and a black man are running for president and attracting unprecedented numbers of voters partly because they are giving a face to the wildly under-represented, you might think that Hollywood would get a clue.

Nah.

I suspect that women around the world are examining the list of films coming out soon and are appalled at the representation being offered. It might explain the articles appearing about this very subject. Such as the recent piece in the LA Times about the dearth of female directors in Hollywood. Incredibly, it still hovers at a paltry 6%. Here's another nugget: "According to Media by Numbers, all 30 of the 30 top-grossing films from last summer were directed by men. According to my informal survey of major studio films from this summer, only two -- "Mamma Mia!" and "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2" -- are directed by women."

What made me grind my teeth while reading the piece was the implication that women simply aren't interested in directing a summer action blockbuster (someone better inform Kathryn Bigelow about her trespass on male territory).

What really puts female directors behind the eight ball is that the film genres studios are most eager to make -- rowdy guy comedies, horror and superhero films -- are rarely of interest to women. "No one would dream of hiring Nora Ephron or Sofia Coppola for the new James Bond movie, but then again, why would they be interested?" says Terry Press, the veteran studio marketer.

You'd think some studio chief would have approached Hardwicke, who makes movies about teenagers, but she's never been asked. "I've worked as an animator and an architect -- I'd love to do a superhero movie where you could create a whole new universe. I wouldn't say I've been shut down, but no one's been offering me the next 'Narnia' either."

There you have it. Women are not on the shortlist when studio executives are looking to hire a director for a summer flick. And the excuse that women aren't interested in directing these films really pisses me off. What, women aren't interested in landing a challenging and top-dollar project? Women don't want the prestigious jobs? Women are best suited to low-budget touchie-feelie Indie flicks?

Oh yes, I've heard that argument before: stay in the kitchen girls, within your safe domestic sphere, and leave the epics to the boys who can handle the pressure.

That's it, I'm writing my action blockbuster film this summer. Which features a woman as the central character.