Tag Archives: lessons

I hate movies; or How to eviscerate an idea

Comedy, life, Screenwriting, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem.

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Photo by Bruno Hamzagic

Assalam alaikum wr wb,

So help me God, I hate movies.

Day after day, week after week, I watch trailers, I look at posters, I scan the cinema listings hopefully, looking for something worth watching.

Nothing.

Less than nothing.  A slap in the face. A grab for my wallet.

I’m not interested in franchises anymore. I’m not interested in movie stars. I’m not interested in explosions.

I am not interested in shock, awe, blood, gore. I am not interested in laughter or tears. Those are empty emotions and can be triggered by practically anything I pull up on YouTube.

I would like a story.

How do you define a story?

A story means something to you. Not to me, the viewer, the ticket-buyer, the audience member, the cat-caller. To you, the story-teller.

Why do I love listening to my parents tell stories? Because they are joyful in the telling and I can see it in their faces. And through that joy, I begin to understand their values, their experiences, their beliefs, however different we are.

As we began to stop telling each other stories, I understood them less and less and we fought more and more.

The fact is, story allows me to empathize in a way that no other medium has achieved.

That is why I hate everything that is in the cinema right now. It’s a blatant insulting play for profit. It desecrates story and the power of the human spirit.

I don’t mean to say that stars, explosions and high drama are bad things. I think they just have to be used in the right way.

I loved Michael Clayton. It showed a veneer of real filth underneath a sterile world. It showed two men coming apart at the seams. Yes it had George Clooney and Sydney Pollack in it. But it was a great story.

I loved Ides of March too for much the same reason. It seemed real to me.

I follow the work of Ryan Gosling, not just because he’s an incredible actor, but mainly because he has a knack for picking exceptional projects. There has not been one movie of his that I’ve seen that I’ve not enjoyed and that I wouldn’t watch repeatedly and that I wouldn’t badger my husband into seeing.

Fo’ rizzle.

So why am I ranting on a Monday morning?

I’ve been generating ideas for The Quest 2013.

There’s plenty of literature on how to test a concept for the marketplace. I particularly recommend Save The Cat’s program of market research.

The question is – how do you know if a story concept is right for you? How do you gauge your level of passion for it? How do you know that it’s touching some deep dark place rather than simply treading tired old ground?

This isn’t just about generating the passion to go the long haul with each project. It’s about having a product at the end, that no matter what happens, you can be proud of. Because you poured your heart and soul into it. Because you told the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

That sort of energy will sustain a career, in my opinion, and that’s what I’m cultivating.

To that end, I’ve been asking a lot of questions about each idea.

As a viewer:

  1. Why would I watch this movie? What elements would make me book that ticket in advance?
  2. What elements would make me avoid this movie? What makes me shriek much like I did above?

These two questions allow me to really get to the nub of what sort of experience I want as a movie-goer.

As a writer (this is the clever bit):

  1. In what ways is this idea within my comfort zone of my abilities, interests, previous writing experience, etc?
  2. In what ways is this out of my comfort zone in the same ways?

It’s maddeningly simple, but for me, it’s helping me shape a story that’s been knocking around in my head for months now.

More importantly, it’s helping me commit to that story. Because I know why I’m writing it. Even if the telling is mediocre and the reception is poor.

Let me know what your thoughts are. And for God’s sake, if you’re a filmmaker with a movie that means something, please tell me about it. I’m starving for something real.

Wasalam and Fee Amanillah (in other words, Godspeed),

The Happy Muslimah

The value of illness

Islam, life, , , , , , , , , , ,

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem

Assalam alaikum wr wb, peeps!

So my mother recently began experiencing nerve problems in her hand. They started with silly things – dropping plates, slipping and cutting herself when cooking.But now it is almost completely non-functional. It just hangs there, waiting for relief.

And it hurts her too.

Now her daily activities are no longer as simple as they used to be – very often, she needs assistance dressing, cooking, cleaning. We have been helping her as much as we can, but obviously we have also been looking desperately for a cure.

We have been now around the block (literally – there are four clinics in a few blocks’ radius here in Dubai) looking for a diagnosis. They got nothin’.

We went to Sri Lanka. After a flurry of painful, embarrassing and sometimes excruciating tests – for the wallet and the heart- nothing there either. After this trying ordeal, I flew back in to Dubai last weekend to get back to work. But my father says that my mother needs me now as he is preparing to come back to our businesses.

So out I go to Sri Lanka again.

Illness is a funny thing. It’s like an unwanted visitor, taking residence not in your house, your room, your closet or your bathroom, but somewhere else, somewhere more sacred – your body.

But illness is also an incredible teacher. Illness has taught me that I cannot be truly compassionate unless I break down the barrier between my mother and I. ‘Tough love’ never worked during my illness and it won’t work during hers. ‘Tough love’ usually happens when you can’t accept that the other person is in pain and is infringing on your life; I think it’s an ultimately selfish form of compassion.

Yes, we have had our moments – in fact, we continue to have those moments even as I help her on with her shalwar kameez. But now I understand. I understand the worry and the pain and the suffering, the “What will happen if I die? Who will take care of you now?” Because when I left her to come back to Dubai (a much tinier change than DEATH), I was thinking, “What will Mama do without me now?” It’s the same thing, just different hearts.

Illness takes no prisoners. It sits and it stays till you take action. But you can never be sure if it’ll work or not. As in all things in life, you are never sure. The end result is with Allah (SWT). Tawakkul and Yaqeen are such precious resources at a time like this. It’s the difference between spiritual death and the energy to take the next step.

People always say that you don’t know what you can do until you do it. And it’s usually those big things they are talking about – writing a novel, building a house, lifting a truck with your bare hands.

But illness makes you super-human. It’s a paradox, but those finest of human qualities – patience, strength, faith – finds their deepest and truest expression when the firm vessel they are housed in slowly begins to fade.

I can’t think how many times I have looked my mother in the eyes and told her, “Just a little while longer. It’s all going to be over soon.”

And she has said to me, “Okay.” Probably the first time in years we have agreed on anything.

You think you’ve scratched the bottom of the barrel, but suddenly there’s just a little more left. You can go on just one more day. And maybe today, you’ll figure this out.

I think the best thing that has come out of this illness is that my mother and I are renegotiating the terms of our relationship – at least Insha Allah I hope so. We’ve kind of turned the mother-child relationship on its head a little, and insha Allah, that’s exactly what we need to move over the impasse in communications we’ve hit recently.

It’s a delicate process. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Another rather obvious lesson illness has taught me – jolly well exercise and eat right or bad things will happen. I’m serious.

May Allah (SWT) keep all of us healthy Ameen!

Wassalam and Fee Amanillah,

The Happy Muslimah

5 Lessons Screenwriters Can Learn from Ramadan

Comedy, Islam, Screenwriting, , , , , , , ,

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem

Assalam alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatahu!

So the blessed month is upon me and I’ve been using it to reflect on the things I need the most in my life, both spiritual and materialistic.

To those of you who don’t know what Ramadan is, it is the month in which the Islamic holy book, the Noble Qur’an, was sent down, i.e. the word of God in unadulterated form. The Qur’an is one of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him)’s many miracles, as he was an illiterate man, yet he was given words that moved the Arabs (who were great poets). We honor its revelation to us by fasting.

Fasting is about not eating between sunset and sundown, true, but it’s also about controlling your temper and staying away from sin and becoming truly conscious of God’s blessings and guidance in your life (called taqwa in Arabic). The gates of heaven are thrown open and Satan is tied up for the entire month and every good deed is rewarded multiple times in this month. So it is truly a blessed month.

Personally I can well and truly feel that blessing. You see, being a South East Asian gives you an inferiority complex from birth. Being a hardcore practicing Muslim and an artist, well, that just compounds it. In this month, I have no fear being myself. Female, Muslim, an artist – a servant of God in all respects. Whereas in other months, sometimes I worry what people think of me a little too much. The work of Satan and a uniquely Asian affliction.

That aside, I have come to the conclusion that fasting has many lessons to teach us screenwriters. Here are but a few I could think of:

1.       Be prepared.

I went into Ramadan having fasted a few extra days to prepare my body but I hadn’t really prepared my soul to take advantage of the blessed month. I hadn’t made a plan to truly make this month a success. I know what unique tests I face – between jobs, friends, comedy and film, it’s a miracle I have time to breathe. But somehow through all of that drama, in this blessed month, I need to remember to remember Allah (SWT). That means training my soul (nafs). Ramadan is a bootcamp. Screenwriting should be too. And it’s up to us to crack the whip, to dodge the bullets and roll with the punches. And other inane metaphors.

Basically, it’s important to figure out your goals and how you’re going to get there. And if it doesn’t work in practice, adjust.

2.       Follow your leaders

There are people – mentors, friends, colleagues – who are inspiring. For me, it’s our beloved Prophet (peace be upon him) and Imam Suhaib Webb.

I have yet to find a mentor in screenwriting, though.

3.       Have prescribed times for work and play.

One needs to keep balance in their life. Ramadan shouldn’t be a month where nothing gets done (the most common complaint in the Arab world).  There needs to be a balance between the world and the spiritual. One should not suffer on account of the other. It’s a fine balance and one that differs from person to person. But it’s necessary to walk that line.

As screenwriters, if you’re stuck inside your house writing all day, you might just end up writing the same story about the one-eyed cat who finds a key to heaven in the back-yard over and over again. For decades. Or you just might go postal and kill all the pets in the neighborhood.

The world has a million stories.  At any time, the most mind-blowing stories are running in HD 3D all around – and they’re called human beings!

4.       Learn from your mistakes.

I keep a log to a) make a list of all the things I’m learning b) provide a place to vent c) figure out problem areas I could work on.

5.       Patience in times of frustration

It isn’t easy.  In fact, it’ll probably be downright painful. You’ll lose sleep.  You’ll be hungry. You’ll say no to things you want to say yes to. You’ll be scared. You’ll take leaps of faith as a matter of course.

But it’ll all be worth it in the end.

I’ll see you after the month of mercy, brothers and sisters. Stay blessed.

Wassalam and Fee Amanillah,

The Happy Muslimah.