I showed my wife the two pictures below and asked her if I looked like Tom Cruise and after studying the pictures she said, “Well, you’re both wearing a hoodie.” I think that means yes.
Check out the movie poster from Mission: Impossible — Ghost Protocol (which features Cruise as Ethan Hunt and opens today in the United States), and then check out the book cover for Blood Brothers which I posed for this summer. Eerie, huh? (Okay, maybe not, but enough of a coincidence to give me something to blog about today.)
Blood Brothers: A Heartland Cain and Abel was written by Scott Cawelti, and he and I completed the screenplay Shadows in the Dark this year based on the true story of a family of four that was murdered here in Iowa. As his book was being prepared for printing a couple of months ago the artist Gary Kelley asked me to pose for the cover and I was glad to do so. (The book was released just a couple of months ago and is already in it’s fourth printing.)
P.S. Back in the eighties my wife was working at the Disney Studios in Burbank when word got out that Tom Cruise was on the lot and she left her desk quick enough to get a glimpse of him as he got on his motorcycle and ride off. Judging from the video below he still causes a stir with the ladies 25 years later.
In the summer of 1999, I was alseep on an overnight train ride from Munich to Prague when I heard several loud knocks on my sleeper door followed by urgent words I couldn’t understand. There was a second knock this time followed by words in English, “Czech police coming.” Not words you want to be awaken with in the middle of the night in a foreign county. Visions of manual labor moving large rocks quickly fill one’s imagination. But this was 1999, not 1979 and this was the Czech Republic—not the former Czechoslovakian communist regime. Still it was 2:20 in the morning.
My wife and I fumbled for the lights. and it turned out to be a basic passport inspection as we crossed the border. Later that morning we arrived in the beautiful city of Prague. Though it was ten years removed from the Velvet Revolution, Prague at that time was said to be 15 years behind the rest of Europe. It was as exciting time as they were in the process of rebuilding. We walked the 14th century Charles Bridge, ate inexpensive gourmet meals ($10 for two), and took a boat ride where we saw Frank Gehry’s Dancing House building downtown, and saw the site where the tallest Stalin monument once stood.
We were told that when Michael Jackson performed in Prague at the peak of his popularity he had them erect a plastic statue of himself so that he could look at it across the river from his hotel room. Vanity ‘of vanity. Josef Stalin and Michael Jackson are long gone, but historic Prague still stands and has endured the test of time. And it not only stands, it thrives. And in large part because of the leadership of Vaclav Havel who died just two days ago.
The playwright and former Czech president leaves behind a legacy that is rare in the world of the arts and politics. Below are two videos from the film he wrote and directed that was released earlier this year.
The studio that Vaclav’s father started in the 1930s, Barrandov Studios, also participated in the Czech part of production for Mission: Impossible —Ghost Protocol which stars Tom Cruise and opens in theaters in the U.S. tomorrow. I imagine that there is a lot going on in the screenwriting and production world in the Czech Republic that I am unaware of, but Vaclav Havel and Tom Cruise alone let you know that Prague has a lot on the ball. I welcome anyone in that part of the world to send me some links to show what’s going on there. (Any interviews in English of Czech screenwriters would be especially appreciated.)
Another video, The Power of the Powerless, narrated by Jeremy Irons and based on Vaclav’s well-known essay is also available on DVD.
I don’t know how many playwrights have become presidents of countries, but Valcav Havel is on that short list. He wrote over 20 plays and was also the President of the Czech Republic from 1993 to 2003.
He was born in Prauge where his father owned Barrandov Film Studios, which is now one of the largest film studios in Europe. (The studio was opened in the 30s but has been used in more recent decades for filming Mission Impossible, The Bourne Identity, and The Chronicles of Narnia.)
But coming from a family with a bourgeois background was not a plus in communist Czechoslovakia and his education was limited. After spending a couple of years in the military service he began working as a stagehand and eventually writing plays. (He actually studied playwriting through a correspondence program.)
In the 1960s his plays began to be performed (The Garden Party, The Memorandum) and gain international recognition—but after 1968 his plays were banned in Czechoslovakia, nor did he have the freedom to travel and see his plays performed in other countries.
He became more politically involved and eventually was arrested for his involvement in the Czech underground movement. His longest single stay in prison was five years (1979-1984), but his total time in either incarceration or virtual house arrest spanned 20 years.
His essays (The Power of the Powerless—follow link to 10/1978) helped make him a popular voice and he became a key figure in the Velvet Underground that helped end communism in Czechoslovakia. In 1989, he become the last President of Czechoslovakia, and then in 1993 he became the first President of the newly formed Czech Republic.
After his Presidency ended he returned to writing plays and non-fiction work such as his memoir To the Castle and Back. Many of his plays became TV movies over the decades, but his first feeature film (Odchazeni/Leaving)—which he also directed— was just produced this year as he turned 75 years old. And he wrote an adaptation of The Ghost of Munich which Milos Foreman is set to direct next year.
He died yesterday (December 18, 2011) in Prauge.
“In everyone there is some longing for humanity’s rightful dignity, for moral integrity, for freedom of expression of being and a sense of transendence over the world of existence. Yet, and the same time…In everyone there is some willingness to merge with the annonymous crowd and to flow comfortably along with it down the river of pseudolife.”
Vaclav Havel (October 1978)
Vaclav Havel—The Active Protagonist. (Unless you’re a communist, then he was The Active Antagonist.)
P.S. To learn more about Vaclav check out the site Havel at Columbia surrounding his 2006 visit to Columbia University in New York.
“One of the hardest concepts for new screenwriters to master is the active protagonist. Passive protagonists populate the pages of countless screenplays. As a screenwriting teacher and screenplay consultant, I see this all the time. But don’t just take my word for it. According to a reader friend of mine who’s read over a thousand scripts for Chris Columbus’s production company, 1492, it’s the single most common mistake among experienced screenwriters and novices alike. Even writers who are able to reach the highest echelons of the studio system are guilty of this.”
Linda Cowgill Creating Characters Who Work for You, Not Against You
found in Now Write! Screenwriting edited by Sherry Ellis & Laurie Lamson
A great example of an active protagonist is 17-year-old Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence) in Winter’s Bone (screenplay by Debra Granik & Anne Rosellini, based on a novel by Daniel Woodrell):
While I have written my share of posts about the long journey it has taken some screenwriters to break in (10 to 12 scripts is not unheard of) here’s some encouragement from a screenwriter who sold her very first script. Just like Diablo Cody—except in this case the script didn’t get produced, but it did launch a career.
“I did not hit L.A. soil until I was twenty-six years old…I did not know anyone and I certainly didn’t know anyone in the business. And I kicked around in fairly menial secretarial jobs, many of which were not in the entertainment industry, and I’d write at night, because I did not have any financial support from anybody. I lived in Los Angeles for over a year before I even started trying to write a screenplay. I read a lot of scripts; I kind of wanted to learn what kind of movies were being bought and made and what weren’t.
I was very encouraged right away because with some exceptions I didn’t read a single good script the entire time I was there. It seemed like the average screenplays that were being submitted to producers were of such encouragingly despicable quality that I was cheered up and felt like I had a shot. I took a year, and when I finally came up with an idea for a script that I thought had a shot, I came at it from the point of view of an actor or actress who might want to play a part. Because it seemed to me that that helped to get pictures bought and sold.
I came up with an idea for script in which the hero would get to play four different parts, because I though maybe an actor’s ego would not be able to reset that. And indeed, I managed to get an agent with the script, which I wrote with a partner. The agent managed to get two offers on it. So, although everyone told me I would have to write nine screenplays and maybe I would see my tenth, I sold my first—but I think this is because I put a year of study into it before I even picked up a pen.” Leslie Dixon (Limitless, Mrs. Doubtfire, Outrageous Fortunes) American Screenwriters/Karl Schanzer & Thomas Lee Wright
“Write 10 pages, get a video camera, shoot a master shot and a shot/reversal shot, and edit it in iMovie. When you’re done, you’ll see you didn’t need 10 pages to tell your story you told. You’ll cut it down to five pages, and be a better writer for it.”
Marc Maurino Script magazine article by Zack Gutin
That’s the quote of the day. Here’s the story behind Marc Maurio and why you should listen to him.
Earlier this year he sold the first feature script he ever wrote (Inside the Machine) to CBS Films. But that doesn’t mean that was his first script. Maurino lives in Massachusetts where he’s made several short films with local actors and entered them in contest. He’s won some awards and along the way and he also went through the UCLA Professional Program in Screenwriting (an online program) where Inside the Machine was developed.
“I wrote my screenplay INSIDE THE MACHINE and submitted it to the IFP’s Emerging Narrative in May of 2010. Around July of 2010, I was chosen to come to Independent Film Week in New York in September, where IFP set up a bunch of meetings with producers, development executives, and literary managers, in hopes of helping to get my script off the ground. As my blogging from that week indicates, it was tremendous exposure to the industry, and I highly recommend it for any serious writer-director. But in the long run, no producers jumped on my script and said “let’s raise a few million and do it!”
However, one person I met—now my manager, at Circle of Confusion—called in October, and said he liked the script, and signed me. In December, he brought another manager out of his LA office onto my account. He also slipped my script to an agent at UTA, and I signed with two agents at UTA in January. Together, these four guys became my team.
In March, the team went out wide with my script, and very quickly sold it to a mini-major studio.”
Marc Maurino Filmmaker magazine, Choosing Another Road Towards Directing
Simple, right? All it took was 20 years. What took so long you ask?
“I’ve been hustling and planning and plotting and scheming and struggling and burning with desire to direct a feature for 20 years, and this script is the single best thing I’ve ever written. I’ve been making shorts, reading Filmmaker, doing workshops, working my tail off at my day job, raising kids, paying the mortgage—in some ways, I thought of this script as my golden goose. I had hoped I could ride it all the way to the director’s chair.” Marc Maurino Choosing Another Road Towards Directing
“The book came to me in sort of a haze in Harry’s Bar in Venice.”
Ernest Hemingway speaking about writing In Harry’s Bar In Venice (Not to be confused with the clip below from Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris)
When I was in high school I don’t think I really understood that Ernest Hemingway was a literary giant. But I knew Jimmy Buffett was fond of Hemingway and that was the only sign of approval I needed as a 17-year-old.
When I had to pick a book in my 11th grade American Literature class to do a report on, I naturally—in my youthful wisdom— outsmarted my teacher by picking the thinnest book on my teacher’s list—Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. I’ve been pals with Papa ever since.
When I graduated from film school in California I drove around the country for a couple of months and one of the books I took with me was Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises. On that trip I went out of my way to drive through Ketchum, Idaho where Hemingway killed himself in 1961. While I lived in Florida I toured his Key West house that’s open to the public and where he wrote To Have and Have Not. (If I recall correctly, they said his custom in Key West was to swim early in the morning and write standing up from 8AM until noon.)
Once on a flight to London for a shoot I read Hemingway’s The Green Hills of Africa. And over the years as I found myself in Kansas City, Oak Park, Petoskey, Venice (including Harry’s Bar) and Paris I’ve always thought of Hemingway and his time spent in those places. Oh, and at the University of Miami I was in the film program with Hilary Hemingway (Ernest’s neice) .
Though I’ve never seen a bull-fight in Spain, caught a marlin off the waters of Cuba, or been on a safari in Africa—someday I will. I hope. Hemingway’s adventurous life has influenced me as much as his writings. Moving to Iowa in ’03 has just been another part of the adventure. So even this blog has a loose assoication to the Hemingway spirit. A couple of days ago I went down to the Cedar Falls Library and picked up a copy of Hemingway’s memoir A Moveable Feast that I’d never read. It’s mostly his account of being young, poor, and unpublished while living in Paris in the 1920s.
“Sometimes when I was starting a new story and I could not get going, I would sit in front of the fire and squeeze the peel of the little oranges into the edge of the flame and watch the sputter of blue that they made. I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, ‘Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.’ So finally I would write one true sentence, and then go from there. It was easy then because there was always one true sentence that I knew or had seen or had heard someone say. “
Ernest Hemingway A Moveable Feast
Looking for a little note of inspiration to stick above your computer? Hard to beat, “All you have to do is write one true sentence.”
P.S. One of the things I delight in when reading Hemingway’s letters is his creative ways of spelling. Hemingway could write, but he couldn’t spell. Nothing a little spell checker wouldn’t fix these days, but we all have our achilles heels don’t we? Hemingway was also no Mark Twain when it came to public speaking. “One of Ernest Hemingway’s deadliest enemies was The Micophone,” said A.E. Hotchner. Just listen to his talk on In Harry’s Bar in Venice or his Nobel Prize Acceptance speech to know what Hotchner meant.
For those that cling to the idea that great writers ideally make the best teachers, I think Hemingway is a pretty good example to the contrary. His writing can take you’re breath away, his speaking—not so much. And I’m sure rather than nurturing an up and coming writer Hemingway would rather have been hunting or drinking. But hanging out with him and his creative gang on the Left Bank in Paris in the 20s would have been quite a learning experience.
“Find what gave you emotion: what the action was that gave you excitement. Then write it down making it clear the reader can see it too.”
Ernest Hemingway (The Old Man and the Sea)
“For me, it’s about setup and payoff. I try to set things up so that they pay off in a way I hope evokes a strong reaction,”
Eric Roth (Forrest Gump)
“What you are doing is feeling the emotions that your characters are feeling, and finding the best way to express those emotions in the most powerfully felt, truthful, effective, moving way to yourself.” Ron Bass (Rain Man)
The title 40 Days of Emotions sounds epic and Biblical, so I brought out the big guns (Hemingway, Roth, Bass) to lead off this post that marks the end of 40 consecutive days writing about emotions in regard to screenwriting and filmmaking.
What make emotions so powerful in screenwriting and movie making is they are closely connected to conflict and theme—two areas that are crucial in connecting with an audience. If you wonder how a film can have a good plot, solid structure, and interesting characters, and be totally unremarkable I’d blame it on the writers and filmmakers failing to make an emotional connection with the audience.
Over the years I’ve written about writers who start with plot, character, theme, or a situation. But I had never heard about a writer starting from emotion until I read that’s how Tennessee Williams started his plays.
“Some screenwriters, and many playwrights, begin with the emotional story, or inner story…They layer key dramatic moments between the protagonist and antagonist in conflict with each other, creating heightened emotional moments that serve as climaxes and story beats. By intuiting the depth of character conflict, without emphasizing plot and structure, they work through the unconscious movement of the story by way of external character, revealing ‘story’ as a by-product. Tennessee Williams worked this way.”
Kate Wright Storytelling is Screenwriting
Recently I listened to an old CD (circa 1951) recording of The Glass Menagerie written by Tennessee and featuring Montgomery Clift as Tom. The emotional symbolism Tennessee uses is powerful stuff. Four actors, one apartment, one mediocre recording, and it still has plenty of emotional impact.
It’s fitting that I close this post with what I consider the most emotional scene I personally have ever scene on film. It’s from the film Glory that I saw in the theaters when it opened in 1989. While it’s the film where Denzel Washington won his first Oscar, it’s the first time I recalled ever seeing him on screen. Part of what gave the scene below its impact on me was I wasn’t watching a movie star or even an actor. It was like I was in that moment. That’s an emotional connection.
(This You Tube clip doesn’t compare to the experience of seeing it on the big screen. You don’t really see the scars, the twitch, the tear or know the backstory that leads to this powerful moment—but here it is just the same.)
When we use terms like head and heart to separate intellect and emotions it’s really a metaphor. Because emotion really does flow from the brain as well. Perhaps a different part than the logic part, but emotion is not anti-intellectual. Part of what gives that scene from Glory its emotional impact is knowing the history of slavery in the United States and the resulting racism that overflowed into our culture.
In ’65 tension was running high at my high school
There was a lot of fights between the black and white There was nothing you could do…
Bruce Springsteen (Graduated in 1967 from Freehold High School in New Jersey.) My Hometown
Personally it’s growing up in Florida in the 60s & 70s and being well aware of racial tensions. I was aware of the Ku Klux Klan. I remember what a cultural event it was in the pre-internet, pre-cable Tv days of 1977 when Alex Haley’s Roots first aired. It was said that 85% of the homes in the United States saw some of the eight part series and the final episode was watched 100 million viewers. (The Roots finale is still the number #3 watched Tv program in U.S. history.) It won eight Emmy Awards including Best Writing in a Drama Series—Ernest Kinoy and William Blinn (for part II).
I doubt that if Roots aired today that it would be anywhere near the cultural phenomenon it was back in 1977. We live a world a way from there. (Not perfect, but a long way from 1977.) I remember back in the late 70s when the debate around Tampa Bay QB Doug Williams was whether blacks could really be successful playing quarterback. Seriously. Williams went on to be the MVP of Super Bowl XXII with Washington. And also since 1977 we’ve seen the rise of successful and visable African-American leaders like Oprah Winfrey, Michael Jordan and President Obama.
All that to say that emotion is not void of thinking—it’s not disconnected from cognitive knowledge. The opening scene of Saving Private Ryan was emotional for me even though I was never in the military. But I imagine if you were in the military during World War II, or Korea, or Viet Nam, the Gulf War, Afghanistan or Iraq—or really any war in any country—that that scene would have even a deeper emotional impact because of your personal life experiences and the memories and knowledge you have of watching those around you die in battle.
Lastly, the screenplay for Glory was written by Detroit-born Kevin Jarre (who passed away earlier this year) and the movie was directed by Edward Zwick. The script was nominated for a WGA award, but lost to Alfred Uhry/Driving Miss Daisy. Jarre told the L.A. Times of Glory, “I never thought I could interest anybody in it. A Civil War epic, about black people. But I’d got really attached to the story….I’d end up in tears when I got through writing.”
Notice in the scene above how many words it takes for Denzel to communicate a wide range of emotions—zero. There have been enough people over the years pounding “structure-structure-structure” that I think it’s time to balance that with “write visual stories full of emotional meaning.”
So there you have it—from Hitchcock to Hemingway and beyond—40 days on the importance of emotion. For good measure let’s memorize one sentence written by Karl Iglesias; “Emotion is your screenplay’s lifeblood.”
P.S. From the odd connection department—Screenwriter Craig Mazin (The Hangover II) also graduated from Freehold High School where Springteen attended.
“What’s in a name? Possibly everything…One of the most difficult and important things to do in film is to make internal qualities apparent. Some writers choose names that suggest emotional or psychological characteristics for this reason. These names often have a mythical air about them. George Lucas utilizes them throughout Star Wars: Luke Skywalker’s destiny is apparent in his title, and Hans Solo’s name encapsulates his aloof and distrusting personality.” Laura Schelhardt Screenwriting for Dummies
“My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.”
Maximus Decimus Meridius (Russell Crowe) in Gladiator
Here are several great movie character names that come to mind:
James Bond
Indiana Jones
Buzz Lightyear
Vito Corleone
Peter Pan
The Terminator
Rocky Balboa
The Wicked Witch of the West
Edward Scissorhands
Donnie Darko
Blade
Juno MacGuff
Dracula
Darth Vader
Scarlet O’Hara
And it’s worth noting that actors and musicians have long understood the power of an emotional name that rolled off the lips better than their give name. (Or in some cases just to avoid a conflict in the Screen Actors Guild.)
John Wayne (Marion Morrison)
Natalie Portman (Natalie Hershlag)
Tom Cruise (Thomas Cruise Mapother)
Julianne Moore (Julie Anne Smith)
Michael J. Fox (Michael Andrew Fox)
Cary Grant (Archibald Leach)
Lauren Bacall (Betty Perske)
Marilyn Monroe (Norma Jean Baker)
Audrey Hepburn (Audrey Ruston)
Woody Allen (Allen Koniegsberg)
John Barrymore (John Blyth)
Louis B. Mayer (Lazar Meir)
Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. (Douglas Ullman)
Bob Dylan (Robert Zimmerman)
And did you know that Tiger Woods’ given first name is Eldrick? Eldrick Woods has a totally different feel than Tiger Woods. And speaking of sports, I should mention the name currently more popular in Google searches than Britney Spears or Justin Bieber and that’s Tim Tebow. What’s in a name? Just mention that name Tim Tebow at the water cooler today and watch the emotions swirl.
P.S. The three biggest name searches that brought people to Screenwriting from Iowa this year…Frank Gehry, Mark Twain and Walker Evans. An architect, a novelist/humorist, and a photographer—all dead. You have to go down the list of names a little bit before some screenwriters pop up—Pete Jones, who’s followed by Woody Allen and Ken Nolan.
“I’d counsel anyone that as soon as they see a movie which starts ‘Based on a true story’ should look at it the way you do with a painting and not a photograph.”
Screenwriter Aaron Sorkin
In yesterday’s post Emotional Climaxes I pulled a quote from Aaron Sorkin on how he used “emotional climaxes” in writing A Few Good Men. That made me think about the ending of The Social Network. When we think of climaxes in movies it’s easy to think of things like the shark exploding at the end of JAWS.
But you don’t hear much about emotional climaxes. We’re back in the realm of the outer story and the inner story. The outer story of The Social Network, written by Sorkin, has to do with a law suit surrounding Facebook. But the inner emotional story is what packs a punch in the very last scene of the movie.
Sorkin sets up The Social Network story in the dynamic opening scene by showing the Mark Zuckerberg character’s emotional mindset of wanting to be popular and accepted, so that he can have a better life. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sorkin wrote the first and the last scenes first because they make such a tidy bookend.
If The Social Network were a proverb it could be, “What shall it profit a man if he gains the world, but forfeit his friends?” The following comment by Sorkin give some insights into how he went about developing the Zuckerberg character. (Yes, based on a real life character who just happens to be the richest man in the world under 30-years old—but Sorkin was painting with a broad brush.)
“Just because you have money, it’s not like you no longer have emotions. (Zuckerberg) spends the first hour and 55 minutes of the movie being an anti-hero and the last five minutes being a tragic hero. I’m not judging, I want to respect and defend him so I locate the things in him that are most like myself…I’m awkward socially, and I’ve spent a lot of time with my nose pressed up against the glass feeling like an outsider.”
That Sorkin quote was pulled from an interview with Trevor Johnston/Time Out London. An interview where Sorkin also revealed that he is the first actor playing the roles in his scripts, which includes him saying the lines out loud and getting into arguments with himself.
Aaron: “In fact, when I was writing The West Wing the head of NBC sent a package to my office: it was one of those headsets you used to get for a phone while you were in the car. There was a note saying: ‘I stopped beside you at a traffic light today and you looked like a madman—please wear the headset, even if you don’t plug it in.'”
Trevor : So the car’s a really productive space for you…
Aaron: “And I take maybe six or eight showers a day when I’m writing. Not because I’m a germophobe, but it just gives me a little energy shot, and putting on fresh clothes makes me feel, especially if I’m not writing well, and started the day on the wrong foot—that I’m getting a do-over. Listening to music in the car is another one for me. If I hear a song that takes me to a certain place emotionally, I try to think about writing a scene that gets me there.”
The odds are pretty good that Sorkin’s name will pop up on an Oscar nomination this year for his hand in writing Moneyball—so if you’re looking for a jolt in your writing you may want to keep an eye on those emotional climaxes, act out your scenes, use listening to music in your car as a springboard emotionally, and don’t forget those six to eight showers a day.
Screenwriting from Iowa 