Truly, the "dog days of August" may be just starting in actuality... but for me personally: THE DOG DAYS ARE OVER! (Thank you, Florence and the Machine.)
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Manifesto for the End of August!
Truly, the "dog days of August" may be just starting in actuality... but for me personally: THE DOG DAYS ARE OVER! (Thank you, Florence and the Machine.)
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
40 Days of Screenplays
For those of you with a screenwriting bent... I've just stumbled on something fantastic: "40 DAYS OF SCREENPLAYS", on Scott Myers' site "Go Into the Story." Boy, I could get into THIS!
The idea: read and analyze one screenplay a day for 40 Days. I joined the group already in progress on Day 8 (yesterday: "Dead Poet's Society") and just posted a comment on Day 9 ("The Matrix.")
Oh, and they offer links to pdfs of the screenplays themselves, so it's a snap to download 'em and delve into 'em.
I don't know which screenplays are yet to come (that's part of the fun) - but already they've covered "Thelma and Louise", "Die Hard", "Shawshank Redemption"... uh... "Some Like it Hot". And a few others I'll have to catch up on after the 40 days are over.
My comment on "The Matrix" follows. I hope some of you may join me in reading/commenting on the blog. Really, it's a terrific screenwriting education right over your magic internet thingie.
****
Ed's Comment on "The Matrix" screenplay - 1999 by Larry and Andy Wachowski
The Matrix? Wow. That's how it's done, son.
Tell you the truth, I didn't love the movie when I saw it. I remember being confused - and I think I was probably distracted, too, by the whiz-bang special effects, by the violence (and by Keanu's odd affect).
But reading the screenplay? It gave me a whole new appreciation for the form in general, and for "The Matrix" in particular. It's actually crystalline in its clarity and elegant in shape. And also: smart. Soooo smart.
A thought occurred to me, too: it's really "Alice in Wonderland," isn't it? (I'm sure I'm not the first person to light on that.) First the white rabbit reference - and then the main character being obliged to navigate an alternate/sideways reality - and in the end, having to assert his own primacy to survive. I think of Alice's "You're all a pack of cards" and the accompanying Tenniel illustration of the playing cards washing over little Alice in a wave... just as the bullets fly at Neo, yet because of his decision to BE Neo bullets have even less power over him than cardstock on Alice.
Also: expert use of iconic characters... the unlikely hero, the woman without whom the hero could not survive, the mentor, the oracle (literally), the betrayer, the all-powerful baddie(s) - but while I was reading I was never aware of their classical ancestry, but only their individual humanity. How 'stock' those characters could have seemed, in lesser hands!
In the end, I found it a surprisingly human movie - in love with the carbon-based life forms who fight against the machines and their Matrix. Missed that entirely the first time around, since it's told with such slick machine-generated wizardry.
Altogether, it's a beautifully done screenplay. Makes me want to see the movie again (and makes me want to delve into the sequels.) Glad to have had the opportunity to read it with you.
The idea: read and analyze one screenplay a day for 40 Days. I joined the group already in progress on Day 8 (yesterday: "Dead Poet's Society") and just posted a comment on Day 9 ("The Matrix.")
Oh, and they offer links to pdfs of the screenplays themselves, so it's a snap to download 'em and delve into 'em.
I don't know which screenplays are yet to come (that's part of the fun) - but already they've covered "Thelma and Louise", "Die Hard", "Shawshank Redemption"... uh... "Some Like it Hot". And a few others I'll have to catch up on after the 40 days are over.
My comment on "The Matrix" follows. I hope some of you may join me in reading/commenting on the blog. Really, it's a terrific screenwriting education right over your magic internet thingie.
****
Ed's Comment on "The Matrix" screenplay - 1999 by Larry and Andy Wachowski
The Matrix? Wow. That's how it's done, son.
Tell you the truth, I didn't love the movie when I saw it. I remember being confused - and I think I was probably distracted, too, by the whiz-bang special effects, by the violence (and by Keanu's odd affect).
But reading the screenplay? It gave me a whole new appreciation for the form in general, and for "The Matrix" in particular. It's actually crystalline in its clarity and elegant in shape. And also: smart. Soooo smart.
A thought occurred to me, too: it's really "Alice in Wonderland," isn't it? (I'm sure I'm not the first person to light on that.) First the white rabbit reference - and then the main character being obliged to navigate an alternate/sideways reality - and in the end, having to assert his own primacy to survive. I think of Alice's "You're all a pack of cards" and the accompanying Tenniel illustration of the playing cards washing over little Alice in a wave... just as the bullets fly at Neo, yet because of his decision to BE Neo bullets have even less power over him than cardstock on Alice.
Also: expert use of iconic characters... the unlikely hero, the woman without whom the hero could not survive, the mentor, the oracle (literally), the betrayer, the all-powerful baddie(s) - but while I was reading I was never aware of their classical ancestry, but only their individual humanity. How 'stock' those characters could have seemed, in lesser hands!
In the end, I found it a surprisingly human movie - in love with the carbon-based life forms who fight against the machines and their Matrix. Missed that entirely the first time around, since it's told with such slick machine-generated wizardry.
Altogether, it's a beautifully done screenplay. Makes me want to see the movie again (and makes me want to delve into the sequels.) Glad to have had the opportunity to read it with you.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
May 22 Play: FIELD
A Field.
HE is baling hay.
A car door slams, off. A WOMAN enters, stands nearby. Middle aged, flowered dress. She has a camera.
HE keeps working. In time, SHE snaps a photo.
HE
You get my good side?
SHE
Wasn't looking at you.
I came for the field.
HE
Just a field.
SHE
-
HE
Too many folks, that's their problem.
They can't see the people for the field.
SHE
That so?
HE
Sure. Here, you goa young buck. Handsome guy. Some say.
SHE
Do they.
HE
Browned by the sun.
Made strong by work,
hard work. Heavy work.
Look good in the pages of a magazine,
or in a Hollywood movie.
You City Folk, you come here,
think we're hicks.
(HE keeps baling.)
I'm no hick, Miss.
(HE keeps baling.)
I got stories.
-
SHE
You know.
-
I'm no City Girl.
Born a mile from here.
Lived on this land till I was.
Thirteen.
-
Something happened here.
I mean.
Here. In the field.
(HE stops baling.)
HE
When.
SHE
I was twelve.
-
Sometimes I think I'll always be twelve.
I got stories too.
-
HE
Alright then, Miss.
I'll let you be.
SHE
Thanks.
(She turns to go. Hesitates. Turns back.)
Hey.
HE
?
SHE
Here.
She raises her camera.
He poses. Loud SNAP adn flash.
The photo is bright and the light burns,
haloing him and the scene in gold for a moment.
In the lights,
he's beautiful.
The camera flash fades. Back to normal lights.
In this light, the field is drab.
HE
Thanks.
SHE
Thank you.
They stand.
Lights fade.
End of play.
HE is baling hay.
A car door slams, off. A WOMAN enters, stands nearby. Middle aged, flowered dress. She has a camera.
HE keeps working. In time, SHE snaps a photo.
HE
You get my good side?
SHE
Wasn't looking at you.
I came for the field.
HE
Just a field.
SHE
-
HE
Too many folks, that's their problem.
They can't see the people for the field.
SHE
That so?
HE
Sure. Here, you goa young buck. Handsome guy. Some say.
SHE
Do they.
HE
Browned by the sun.
Made strong by work,
hard work. Heavy work.
Look good in the pages of a magazine,
or in a Hollywood movie.
You City Folk, you come here,
think we're hicks.
(HE keeps baling.)
I'm no hick, Miss.
(HE keeps baling.)
I got stories.
-
SHE
You know.
-
I'm no City Girl.
Born a mile from here.
Lived on this land till I was.
Thirteen.
-
Something happened here.
I mean.
Here. In the field.
(HE stops baling.)
HE
When.
SHE
I was twelve.
-
Sometimes I think I'll always be twelve.
I got stories too.
-
HE
Alright then, Miss.
I'll let you be.
SHE
Thanks.
(She turns to go. Hesitates. Turns back.)
Hey.
HE
?
SHE
Here.
She raises her camera.
He poses. Loud SNAP adn flash.
The photo is bright and the light burns,
haloing him and the scene in gold for a moment.
In the lights,
he's beautiful.
The camera flash fades. Back to normal lights.
In this light, the field is drab.
HE
Thanks.
SHE
Thank you.
They stand.
Lights fade.
End of play.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Olympic Mascot Fail
I love the Olympics. I mean, I LOVE the Olympics. I cheer. I get choked up. I harangue everyone who'll listen about triple axles and curling and athletes who I would otherwise never hear of.
And though I'm admittedly more of a Winter 'lympics fan, I do love me some Summer Games. And that's why I'm pretty alarmed... at THIS:
I'm even more alarmed than I was at THIS. (I won't bring up Lisa Simpson vis a vis this logo. Google it if you need to.)
Wenlock and Mandeville, you are an Olympic Fail.
And though I'm admittedly more of a Winter 'lympics fan, I do love me some Summer Games. And that's why I'm pretty alarmed... at THIS:
I'm even more alarmed than I was at THIS. (I won't bring up Lisa Simpson vis a vis this logo. Google it if you need to.)
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Testing, testing....
Just checking something out.... Posting from a new source. More to come later....
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
May 12 Play: MAMOOT
PLAY #?: MAMOOT - by Ed Valentine
© May 12, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: It’s SeaWorld – or a SeaWorld type of place. A trainer (F) stands at the edge of a pool. She has a bucket. The water in the pool is dark and black. A maintenance man stands at the back.
TRAINER:
Here, Mamoot.
Here you go!
Feeding time.
Come and get it.
Mamoot?
Mamoot?
Momoot.
She leans over the water.
MAINTENANCE MAN
He dead?
TRAINER
You SCARED me!
MAINTENANCE MAN
Sorry lady.
TRAINER
I didn’t know you were there!
MAINTENANCE MAN
Sorry.
TRAINER
I thought I was all alone.
-
Except for him, I mean.
MAINTENANCE MAN
Him?
TRAINER
Mamoot.
MAINTENANCE MAN
Maybe you are all alone.
TRAINER
I don’t know.
Sometimes, some mornings I come out here
and there’s nothing there in the water.
You’d swear there was nothing there.
MAINTENANCE MAN
He sleeping?
TRAINER
Waiting.
MAINTENANCE MAN
Creepy.
TRAINER
Waiting for me.
MAINTENANCE MAN
Someday he
Will
be dead.
TRAINER
Or I will.
MAINTENANCE MAN
How long do they live?
TRAINER
No one knows.
MAINTENANCE MAN
A long time?
TRAINER
A Long long.
Long.
Time.
Longer than we know.
MAINTENANCE MAN
He has time then.
TRAINER
Time?
MAINTENANCE MAN
Time to wait.
TRAINER
I guess he does.
Well -
Something swims back and forth in the pool.
It is not a whale.
They both start.
MAINTENANCE MAN
Jesus.
TRAINER
There.
MAINTENANCE MAN
That how it happens every morning?
TRAINER
Pretty much.
He likes to surprise me.
MAINTENANCE MAN
I wouldn’t get in the water with that.
TRAINER
Sometimes I have to.
MAINTENANCE MAN
How is that?
TRAINER
(shrugs.)
MAINTENANCE MAN
Good luck, then. I better get on with my day.
TRAINER
Me too.
(She holds out a fish over the water, reaching out a little too far. Sing-song and nervous:)
Here you go, Mamoot.
Mamoot.
Mamoot.
The thing swims. She holds the fish. The Man does not go.
Lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
© May 12, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: It’s SeaWorld – or a SeaWorld type of place. A trainer (F) stands at the edge of a pool. She has a bucket. The water in the pool is dark and black. A maintenance man stands at the back.
TRAINER:
Here, Mamoot.
Here you go!
Feeding time.
Come and get it.
Mamoot?
Mamoot?
Momoot.
She leans over the water.
MAINTENANCE MAN
He dead?
TRAINER
You SCARED me!
MAINTENANCE MAN
Sorry lady.
TRAINER
I didn’t know you were there!
MAINTENANCE MAN
Sorry.
TRAINER
I thought I was all alone.
-
Except for him, I mean.
MAINTENANCE MAN
Him?
TRAINER
Mamoot.
MAINTENANCE MAN
Maybe you are all alone.
TRAINER
I don’t know.
Sometimes, some mornings I come out here
and there’s nothing there in the water.
You’d swear there was nothing there.
MAINTENANCE MAN
He sleeping?
TRAINER
Waiting.
MAINTENANCE MAN
Creepy.
TRAINER
Waiting for me.
MAINTENANCE MAN
Someday he
Will
be dead.
TRAINER
Or I will.
MAINTENANCE MAN
How long do they live?
TRAINER
No one knows.
MAINTENANCE MAN
A long time?
TRAINER
A Long long.
Long.
Time.
Longer than we know.
MAINTENANCE MAN
He has time then.
TRAINER
Time?
MAINTENANCE MAN
Time to wait.
TRAINER
I guess he does.
Well -
Something swims back and forth in the pool.
It is not a whale.
They both start.
MAINTENANCE MAN
Jesus.
TRAINER
There.
MAINTENANCE MAN
That how it happens every morning?
TRAINER
Pretty much.
He likes to surprise me.
MAINTENANCE MAN
I wouldn’t get in the water with that.
TRAINER
Sometimes I have to.
MAINTENANCE MAN
How is that?
TRAINER
(shrugs.)
MAINTENANCE MAN
Good luck, then. I better get on with my day.
TRAINER
Me too.
(She holds out a fish over the water, reaching out a little too far. Sing-song and nervous:)
Here you go, Mamoot.
Mamoot.
Mamoot.
The thing swims. She holds the fish. The Man does not go.
Lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
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