BLOG OF THE DAVE SEMI-INCOHERENT RAMBLINGS OF AN OVEREMOTIONAL STORYTELLER ON THE SUBJECT OF FILM, MEDIA AND SO-FORTH

Orphan

Fri, 18 Jun 2010 22:04:16 -0500

I literally just got done watching Orphan (Dir. Jaume Collet-Serra, Writ. David Johnson, 2009). Suffice to say it was disturbing enough that I chose to write this blog straight away rather than going to bed. I’m not much of a horror fan, but when I do watch this is exactly the kind of story that resonates with me, and - no pun intended - haunts me for a long time. I don’t know what that says about me, but there are certainly elements in the film which are similar to an idea I’m currently working on for my next screenplay.

Now, by choice this wasn’t necessarily the kind of movie I would usually choice to watch. (You can thank an unappealing marketing campaign for that.) But the wife had seen it and figured - correctly - that I’d get a kick out of it. She’d also mentioned something about a big twist at the end, and was curious to see whether I could figure it out. Naturally I spent the entire film paying attention to every little detail, trying to sort the clues from the chaff, and I’m happy to gloat that I got it. Worry not - I shan’t reveal anything here.

What I would like to point out, from a screenwriting perspective, is that Orphan is a master class in how you go about sprinkling in details which will pay off later, either in the third act revelation or as a plot point. For example, fairly early on in the film we learn several facts: Max is totally deaf without her hearing aid, Esther hates going to the dentist, Daniel acts out when he doesn’t get much attention, Esther is thrilled when she learns her new adoptive family have a piano... Four mundane factoids you say? Nothing could be further from the truth. Each of these aspects play a key role in shaping the audience’s perception of the film and who the characters really are, and what the twist is going to be. In these sort of films, of course, there will inevitably be a twist of some kind. If you’ve already seen this film chances are you were trying to figure it out even if you hadn’t ben told there was a twist, as I had. I’ll be honest, my first hazard at a theory was miles off, but my second was right on the money. I’m not sure exactly what it was that triggered my suspicions, but I can certainly recall the fact which I kept coming back to as I watched to cement my growing suspicions. Thinking back immediately after watching the film there are numerous other elements which, while they seemed relatively insignificant at the time, were all each significant signposts in their own right. Ah-ha moments after the fact.

Kudos is also due to the splendid central trio of actors: Vera Farmiga, Peter Sarsgaard and Isabelle Fuhrman. Not realizing they were in the film before I started watching, my expectations were instantly heightened, and this cast truly elevated the film far and above the cheap shtick the appalling marketing campaign had led me to expect. And while the majority of the suspense does indeed have it’s roots in Johnson’s script (nice contrast of interiors and snowy exteriors by the way), I must also doff my hat to director Collet-Serra whom it is impossible not to admire. Not only can he create incredible suspense simply from his choice of camera angles while simultaneously playing with our expectations of the genre’s style (and thankfully he gets his obligatory mirror reveal out of the way early on) but he also knows how to make his second unit crew work for their dinner.

Bottom line: this is a frightfully good film which I would have otherwise overlooked. Not only does it get your pulse raising, but it gets your brain working too. Isn’t that what all good entertainment should do? So thank-you, wife, for subjecting me to Orphan. And thank-you, internet, for allowing me to get these thoughts out of my head and delay that period of lying in the dark, trying to get to sleep after having watched a scary movie. But I can delay it no longer...

Sweet dreams.

The Inbetweeners

Sun, 21 Mar 2010 04:47:45 -0500

By far the funniest TV show I’ve seen in a long while is actually a small British comedy called The Inbetweeners. Set somewhere on the distant outskirts of London (shopping in Bluewater and clubbing in London have so far been name-dropped), it follows the misadventures of sixth-former Will, a public school boy who finds himself dropped into the local comprehensive school when his mother can no longer afford his school fees. Right from the beginning, Will sticks out like a sore thumb and it’s not long before his new schoolmates are hurling all sorts of abuse at him in the corridors. “Briefcase Wanker” is one of the more memorable witticisms.

Fortunately for Will, it’s not long before if is taken in by a small group of friends, who are all for their part just as big a loser as he is. And therein is the beauty of The Inbetweeners. In highly unlikely event you don’t recognize yourself in one of the leads, I defy you to suggest you didn’t at least know every one of these characters while at school. Will’s reluctant new best friend is Simon, a fairly middle-of-the-road kinda guy who has long carried a torch for Carly, a “friend of the family” who is not only dating someone else but is infinitely cooler than Simon by sheer virtue of the fact she doesn’t turn into a bumbling idiot every time they speak. Neil is the simple minded fool who is utterly oblivious in equal measure to both social conventions and the fact people that are always are always laughing at him, yet he is the only one who continually winds up getting laid. And then there’s Jay, resident bullshitter whose frequent lies typically involve being “knee deep” in whatever vulgar euphemism for female anatomy you care to imagine. Added to the core group of lads, there are also a well-sketched group of other stock characters such as embarrassing parents, unobtainable girls and the resident bully. Chief among these supporting characters is Mr. Gilbert, head of sixth form; built like a rugby coach and with a similar dress sense, he represents quite accurately every male teacher of that age who decided to make the transition into a role of increased authority. Pretty much every scene he’s in is guaranteed to present it’s own squirmingly uncomfortable hilarity.

The Inbetweeners is genius is because it takes these very real identifiable everyday events as the basis for every episode and then drops in just the right amount of over-the-topness at the perfect moment. You feel Will and Co.’s pain because you’ve been there yourself, but when things take a exaggerated turn you can enjoy the side-splitting laughs safe in the knowledge that this is just a TV show and things for you were never quite that bad. A perfect example of this is a recent episode that involves the class on a Geography trip to a seaside town. Trying, of course, to impress a girl, Will hires a boat to take her out on their lunch break. The other boys pester him into taking them out for a quick ride before said girl turns up. As sure as things can go wrong, Jay soon wrestles the controls from Will, Simon falls in the icy cold water, and Will - being the smart responsible one - cites some offbeat first aid knowledge that in order to prevent hypothermia setting in, Simon must be stripped naked. And so, stranded in the harbor in full view of their laughing classmates and the giggling locals, they stand huddled together (one of them naked) and send up a flare.

But it’s not just the heightened craziness that makes The Inbetweeners so funny. It’s the little things too. For example, in a typically misguided teenage attempt to make a girl laugh, Will does an impression of Yoda from Star Wars. She doesn’t get it, even after Will repeatedly assures that no, he doesn’t have Asperges. “Have you been tested?” she asks, voice full of seriousness. Another sterling example of this involves the boys’ attempt to gatecrash a party which they were not cool enough to be invited to. They climb under the fence, getting dog much up their sleeves only to find the hostess standing above them. “Look,” she says “the only reason I didn’t invite you is because I don’t know you very well, but if it means that much to you, you can stay.” And so Will has to enjoy the rest of the evening sans dog muck-stained jacket in a tight fashion vest that poor old Mum got him for his birthday.

British comedy shows have a long and proud history of being as uncomfortable for the audience as for the characters involved, if not more so. Think Fawlty Towers and The Office. The Inbetweeners relishes taking these totally believable and accurate scenarios and says to us - remember when this is you? To all those Entourage daydreams, this is what we’re really like. Watch an episode, and I’ll guarantee that you’ll be laughing out loud more than once. I can’t even remember that last TV comedy that did that to me. And if you’re thinking it’s only guys who grew up in the British 90s who will find this sort of thing amusing, then think again. My American wife was never a teenage boy and she finds the show just as entertaining. Go watch it. It’s cruel, but it’s funny.

The Red Riding Trilogy

Wed, 17 Mar 2010 18:07:05 -0500

The Red Riding Trilogy, as it is so reverently referred to in the US, was originally a UK miniseries dealing with the decade long search for the Yorkshire Ripper. Packaged as a bona-fide film trilogy in the US, it is of such cinematic caliber that all good things you’ve already heard about it are well earned. It’s a grim depiction of Northern England which perfectly matches the attitude of the time it’s set. A mood which is perfect encapsulated in the repeated mantra “To The North – where we do what we bloody want!”

Based on four books by David Peace, the screenplay for each of the films was written by Tony Grisoni. (The reason for the trilogy is that the right to the second book in the series is currently held by Ridley Scott who has plans of his own to make an Americanized version of the story, condensing all four books into one movie. Rest assured however, that despite there being only three film, it does not feel like anything is missing.) Each of the films has a different director, meaning somewhat different styles and occasional variance in quality, but overall the entire thing is top bloody notch.

The first film, 1974, explains comparisons to David Fincher’s Zodiac, centered as it is around a rookie journalist who is seemingly the first to piece together the puzzles of multiple abductions of young girls and suggests that they might be the work of a single individual. Directed by Julian Jarrold, Andrew Garfield turns in a pitch-perfect performance as journo Eddie Dunford, with just the right amount of Seventies swagger which ultimately deteriorates into wide-eyed obsession. The rest of the cast reads like a who’s who of under-appreciated British performers of the moment: Rebecca Hall, Eddie Marsan and John Henshaw to name but a few. Oh, and Sean Bean turns up as the object of Eddie’s paranoid fixation a he unravels the clues and comes up with a likely conclusion. In fact, by the time 1974’s climax rolls along you start to wonder what could possibly be left to explore in the other films. Indeed, the final scene of 1974 is such a shocker it leaves you with zero idea of what the remaining two films could involve at all.

1980, directed by James Marsh, is in my opinion the weaker of the three films. Which is a shame as the lead in this installment is Paddy Considine as an outside detective brought in to go over the dead-end case whilst simultaneously investigating some possible dodgy dealings by the cops themselves. Maybe it’s because the plot mirrors 1974’s so closely (inappropriate relationship, the way it all ends…) or perhaps it’s because it wasn’t that long ago that The Wire was on TV, but 1980 just doesn’t seem so fresh. The most important part of this film is the recurrent characters that have been established. Most significantly among these are David Morrissey’s Detective Jacobson, Peter Mullan as a shady preacher, and Robert Sheehan as a quiet rent boy who knows a lot more than he lets on (ahem, he’s like Red Riding’s Deep Throat).

The good news is that the final film, 1983, directed by Anand Tucker, is a rock star of a concluding part. Brilliant is probably the word that best describes it. Right from the get-go the format has been shaken up from the previous two films. With the inclusion of flashbacks we are reintroduced to now-deceased characters so that the film is not just the sum of all the trilogy’s parts, it is greater than it. This balance is maintained by the fact that 1980 follows two separate protagonists. The first we know already; Morrissey’s Detective Jobson, who decides to put an end to the Yorkshire Ripper once and for all. The second is a far less likely hero; a lazily overweight lawyer who is named John Piggott and is portrayed by the cuddly Mark Addy. Piggott is brought on by the parents of the mentally-challenged Michael Myshkin (played by the always incredibly Daniel Mays) who is currently locked up as the accused Ripper, when the actual Ripper is actually still at large. Between the two stories, the complexities are unraveled and the trilogy’s recurring bit players’ true place in the grand scheme of things is revealed. It’s a gripping conspiracy thriller with a kitchen drama aesthetic which could easily stand as a solo film, and it is the perfect dénouement to the series. Just excellent.

District 9

Sat, 27 Feb 2010 16:13:44 -0600

So I finally got around to watching District 9. It is not only one of the most original films I’ve seen in a while, it is also thoroughly entertaining - and one of the strongest debuts in a while (although I’m sure it helps to have Peter Jackson in your corner). Nevertheless, kudos are due to director Neill Blomkamp, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Terri Tatchell.

The screenplay of District 9 is a terrific thing. It should be studied by all budding screenwriters as a great example of both high originality and disciplined structure.

Act One begins, as always, with the exposition and the familiarizing of the audience with the world of the film. Blomkamp and Tatchell decided to go the faux documentary route combing talking heads and news footage to inform: 20 years ago a large spaceship came to a stop above Johannesburg, South Africa’s largest city. But instead of a violent attack, the ship just hovers there until humans break in. Inside is a vast populous of malnourished prawn-like humanoids. Alien refugees. With the eyes of the world on them, Johannesburg officials set up a camp for the aliens, but it quickly becomes a slum. Nigerian gangsters move in and soon trade tins of cat food (the aliens’ favorite dish) for all sorts of extravagant alien weaponry. The weaponry, however, is useless as it is DNA-responsive; it will only work when fired by the aliens. As time goes on, conditions deteriorate. South Africa is plunged into another apartheid. The humans want the prawns to go home, but their ship is irreparable - in fact the control module was show falling off the ship years ago in an amateur video, but it was never recovered. And that right there, is everything you need to know for the rest of the film to work.

Our hero is a clumsy coward of a paper-pusher, Wikus Van De Merwe (Sharlto Copley), a buffoon with a sing-song accent who is as endearingly funny as he is out-of-his-league when put in charge of an operation to visit each and every one of the aliens in District 9 to get them to sign an 24-hour eviction notice which will allow the government to move them to more concentration camp-like settings. The documentary pretense is maintained through most of the first act, and because of this it is quite jarring when a handful of scenes start to pop up, shot in a more traditional manner. But let’s maintain focus on the screenplay here.

The turning point occurs when Wikus finds a cylinder of black fluid in one of the alien’s shacks. The alien - whose “slave name” as it were is Christopher - had meticulously collected this fluid over the past 20 years, for reasons as yet unknown. But Wikus gets it all over himself, and as a result his health deteriorates. In fact, his left arm has soon transformed into an alien tentacle. This has two important effects. One: it means with alien DNA Wikus is able to use the extraterrestrial guns, and two: it establishes a ticking clock. With every moment that passes Wikus is becoming more and more alien. On the run from his own agency (who want to cut him up and sell him to the highest bidder), Wikus hides out in District 9. His paths soon cross with Christopher, and all the information we’ve learnt thus far pays off. Christopher, it turns out, has been hiding the spaceship’s control module beneath his shack this whole time and been painstakingly repairing it. The small amount of fluid he’s collected is enough fuel to make it back to his home planet. Oh, and he also mentions that aboard the spaceship there is means to halt Wikus’ transformation and render him human again. So Wikus and Christopher are united by a common goal: to steal back the black fluid before it’s too late.

Naturally, this being the movies, things don’t go as smoothly as could be hoped for. Wikus’ cowardice takes over and he makes the choice that his needs are greater than Christopher’s safety - seemingly oblivious to the fact that without Christopher he is shit out of luck anyway. But amidst the ensuing battle scene which unfold in District 9 Wikus seems to comprehend that even if he is able to become 100% human again, things can never go back to the way they were. So he finally does the heroic thing and help Christopher accomplish his mission. Crowds cheer as the spaceship finally leaves, and Christopher heads home for help, nicely setting up shop for a sequel.

The point is, for all its bells and whistles, this is a tight-ass screenplay. Every nuanced aspect of the all-important structure of screenplay are there, and each is expertly executed. We have a likable hero with a fault he must overcome, and an opponent whom he must eventually overcome in order to demonstrate his eternal growth. We have a rich narrative, filled with unexpected twist, neatly hung over the essential turning points at the beginning, middle and end of the Second Act. And, of course, we have the ticking clock - Wikus’ infection and Christopher’s impending eviction/permanent loss of the control module beneath his home - which gives the whole story a sense of urgency.

I loved this film. It was wickedly funny, socially intriguing and undeniably entertaining. A great fun ride. Anyone who’s ever read a book of screenwriting should watch it - you’ll be guaranteed to understand everything you’ve ever been told about how a screenplay works. Everyone else can just enjoy it for the trip that it is. An indie-style blockbuster which is like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Focking fantastiic.