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10 Qualities of Great Film – Part 2

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem

So. On to the next few things I think are awesome – you’ll find Part 1 here.

This exercise has been profoundly useful because I’m aware almost before I watch a film why I’m going to like it or hate it. This is because the way films are marketed today, they leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. I always know exactly what I’m getting. Not saying that’s a bad thing.

And it provides an additional, much more nuanced layer of culling when I decide what I’m going to do next myself.

Which helps.

It helps to know that you’ll remember why you love something three years later when you’re weeping over rejection letters.

I wish human beings were like that.

Anyway, onto more serious but fun stuff.

6. Great structure.

World War Z performed as advertised. It had plenty of action sequences since it was an action movie. In between sequences, there were a few moments of breathing space as the protagonist worked out the problem. It took place in three or four different countries and managed to not feel bewildering. If I ever take it into my head to write an action movie (I might do just to entertain my husband) – I hope it’s as well structured.

7. Weirdness used to explore the quotidian.

My current two favorite examples of this:

    1. The One I Love
    2. The Future.

Both of these films used science fiction/fantasy conceits to explore a run-of-the-mill relationship milestone – where is this relationship going?

The Future is a little more absurdist than The One I Love. You’d have to approach it with a more of a film-school, liberal-arts sort of mindset. Basically, anything goes.

The sci fi aspect of The One I Love is much clearer and more pronounced. It never loses track though – the emotional through-line remains pretty clear. The partners in both movies are asking themselves the same question and exploring the answer largely separately and in different ways – ‘should we stay together? Do we have a future?’

8. Honesty/authenticity = BRAVERY

I find myself not being able to describe or define authenticity accurately. It just sorta is. Something in the story resonates with some deeply buried part of me. Deeply buried and never acknowledged. And the movie dredges it up to the surface and puts it on display for everyone to see. Liberating rather than embarrassing.

I’m sure my mother would rather I keep my mouth shut and act dignified even if it – literally – kills me. Yes, my mother has walked sedately across a pedestrian crossing as a truck careened towards her, horns blaring, refusing to break her gait even it meant certain death.

Me, I hoofed it. To heck with dignity.

(In case you were wondering, the truck missed, thank God.)

That’s why it’s called a generation gap, I guess.

My example for this was yet again Obvious Child. I’ve racked my brains trying to figure out what it is about that movie that resonated with me.

Of course, Shaula Evans managed to figure it out for me, disguised as a humble writing prompt.

Jenny Slate told the truth in Obvious Child. And there’s something in us that punches the air when someone tells the truth even if – especially if – it’s painful and not pretty.

At the risk of angering feminists – that doesn’t just apply to women, though Lord knows we need the truth. That applies to everyone. I’ve found myself resonating with some of the oddest movies and TV shows. Because they seemed true.

Maybe this is where the real power of cinema lies. In the truth.

And next up: my two favorites. POC/Women/Underrepresented characters winning, or not in stories about how awful it is to be underrepresented. Dueling philosophies. 

10 Qualities of Great Film: Part 1

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem.

I hope everyone’s having an amazing new year. I hope you had a great 2014 – mine was difficult but kinda beautiful in an unexpected way.

Looking back on my year, I’ve surfaced a few regrets (haven’t we all?) I’ve been choosing projects that I think people want to see rather than stuff that’ll light me on fire. Yes, thinking about the consumer is important. That said, scripts are like relationships – you really need to feel true love for it to work in the long-term. And that means looking for something substantial past that first flush of romance. It helps to get intentional, I think, with what you want out of life and what kind of family you’d like to have.

Yes, I’m very much still in the ‘beating metaphors to death’ business.

Replace the word ‘family’ with career and you have a good philosophy of screenwriting.

So here I am refining my previous ad-hoc rather ill-conceived list of qualities of great film

Another thing I’d rather not do this year – write useless blog posts. I know when what I’m putting out isn’t particularly useful. I’m going to try and eliminate that. It wastes both my time and yours.

Don’t you just hate when you receive emails from people who are trying to sell you things? I want to receive emails because someone loves me and is thinking of me. It sorta makes me sad.

I love you guys, so consider this the first of God willing many presents.

  1. People being awesome.
  2. People being emotionally horrific.

My example for both of the above is Frances Ha.

This movie was excruciating to watch. Mainly because I’ve been there. No, not ‘poor’, but depending on the kindness of others and not getting it. Getting instead an odd sort of cruelty, an everyday but excruciating sort of torture, that you can’t really put your finger, that no one will go to jail for, but you know is a crime.

And who was awesome in all of this? Frances was awesome. Despite her pain and humiliation, she still danced down the street to ’80s music. She still held onto what made her unique.

And [SPOILER ALERT] – much like me, one day, she just got it. She figured what she had to do to survive. It takes a while, this adulthood crap, but it ain’t so bad once you get there.

I love movies that document that everyday inhumanity and everyday awesomeness. They are very often very uncomfortable to watch. But I love them.

3. Joy

4. Despair

This is not just about the everyday or the ‘micro’. Sometimes this can be about the macro – something larger scale that encompasses a town, village, a city, a country – politics, etc. A case in point being Billy Elliot.

Billy Elliot danced with joy, exasperation, frustration, guilt. He danced whatever he was feeling. And his family felt angry and sad because of the political situation and the loss of his mother.

Both joy and despair occurred in equal amounts in this movie. 

There’s a lot about the human condition that seems dichotomous to me. To know joy, you have to journey through despair. To experience and truly appreciate comfort, you must know pain. To love, you must know what loneliness, hatred and non-acceptance is.

Which leads me to the next thing I love:

5. Cyborg movies.

I don’t mean movies about cyborgs.

Courtesy Victor Habbick at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Courtesy Victor Habbick at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I mean movies that inhabit the cracks between categories, that defy easy categorization – something I know Hollywood loves, but I frankly do not. Is it a comedy or a drama? Is it about one man or about the world? Is it about a family or America?

Examples – Obvious Child.

Comedy? Drama? It certainly wasn’t always funny.

Michael Clayton.

Thriller? Drama? Is it about Michael Clayton or is it about the world that created Michael Clayton?

Watch this space because I’m going to keep talking.

Next up: Structure. Weirdness used to explore the quotidian. Honesty/authenticity.