Showing posts with label storytelling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label storytelling. Show all posts

Monday, October 22, 2012

Lessons (A Personal Pseudo-Essay)

"Hunter-32, Hunter-32, this is Fanboy-7 requesting confirmation of target, are we clear to drop payload, over?"

"This is Hunter-32, target confirmed. Fanboy-7 you are clear to drop Some Personal Shit." 
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There was a quote from a movie I watched recently, one featuring the budding comedic genius of Adam Scott alongside the J.K Simmons called The Vicious Kind, which was ultimately a film about people making their choices, and subsequently living with said choices. And it's not a pretty film. There's pretty people, but you get to see the ugliness inside them. It's not that popular, but I'm positive its on Netflix.

Any Adam Scott fan should check it out, because his performance is the best thing about that movie -- you haven't seen his acting range until you've seen The Vicious Kind. Some awesome accompanying songs from Radical Face, who's amazing, to compliment the raw, bare energy of this character drama.

I'm telling you about this because I watched Argo at Rainbow Cinemas on Front and Jarvis a few hours ago; caught the late show after 8 hours of studying today for my midterm tomorrow, that I don't partcularily care about now that I've retyped my five weeks worth of notes. You know, I took Science Fiction for the hell of it, not even sure I'd get the credit. But I took it to learn something. And my professor -- but she likes to be refered to as Doctor -- opened her mouth the first week of class and ever since then she's chipped away at the only thing I really love in life. Thanks, university.

I mention The Vicious Kind firstly because of a quote that's pretty potent in thematic significance that JK Simmons' character says to his son (the one who is not Adam Scott-misogynist-crazy-version).
"Sometimes people do things they know they are wrong, but they just do them anyway. Because doing the right thing would be too painful." 
Thematically, that movie was strong as hell. This quote doesn't relate to the film, it directly relates to my life personally, and (indicating that the writer did their job with this specific line) every other person that watches this film. It's almost a universal truth, in my humble opinion. 

We are humans. We are capable of thinking intelligently -- but intelligently doesn't necessarily mean an objective moral structure of right and wrong dictated by some scripture, or rulebook, or words uttered by a mentor, mother, father, or teacher.

Thinking intelligently is dictated as to what that individual considers intelligent. People are intelligent in different ways, we're wired like that. We can read people well, we can have powers of social manipulation, we can study and memorize with outstanding capability, we can gush out charisma on a whim, or we can sit in a room and ponder life's questions, and be able to actually figure some things out without losing our minds. We are all intelligent in that regard. Some people just use their intelligence stupidly.

I'm being coy because I see it in the real world. Here's where I go into Argo, that, by the way, is Ben Affleck's best film he's ever made, and proves that the man has artistic and directing talent that surpasses a lot of people older than him in the big industry. I won't spoil the details, but I found the themes of the plot centered a lot around the relationship between fiction and reality. Story and life. The fake and the real.

That quote from The Vicious Kind? That's something pretty real. The way it was constructed and manufactured to be communicated to you? Complete fabrication, but it's more real of a sentence you'll here coming out of someone's mouth (let alone JK Simmons') than you've probably ever experienced in your life. I know that's the case for me. While the way it was said is fake, unsurmountably an illusion made by a team of people, what's being said remains true to the core. That is the essence of theme, probably included in the definition of it when relating to storytelling.

But the medium is the message, as they say. What is reality but another media that we percieve the world through? I mean, this day and age, the lines are blurring -- how are your eyes not just another screen you see the world through. How fake is that? How real? My point is, reality can be extremely fake -- it can fool you into believing things, trick you into feeling things, uproot your understanding of things, and change the trajectory of your emotional state, mental state or physical state in a minute, even a second.

We never trust reality, and we rarely trust the characters (actual people) that inhabit that neverending show of This Fucking Life. Unpredictably breeds the desire for reassurance of purpose and direction. Something true amidst all the chaos of fakeness...

Stories. Argo told me that reality and fiction go hand-in-hand in the human experience. One will drive the other, under a symbiotic relationship. Stories can save lives. They can inspire entire passions. They can sooth pain, create excitement, generate genuine emotion. Make those endorphins run rampant through your neuroses. Fire the receptors. Feel something true. It's the drug without the side-effects.

The side-effect of partaking in the experience of a story, is learning something about yourself and the world around you. That comes from a construct of imagination and hard work, made for an audience that craves the drug of feeling and emotion. You sit in a darkly lit room and pay eight dollars for candy and pop for that. You set your DVR in the morning for that. You wait a week for that and complain about it and then come back every week after, for that.

So what's more real? The reliable versus the unreliable. What you can touch, taste, smell, or what you can feel -- not just on the surface, the superficial experience. The interior, intrinsic. The sinking pits in your stomach, the butterflies, the goosebumps and the lightness in your chest. The true.

We say, "life is sometimes like a movie" because of those feelings that are generated. I ache for the day that my life can resemble the fiction that I read, watch, and play. For a fraction of my existence, there's a structure and a cadence to the rhythm of my actions -- that plot points emerge that I can read and analyze and piece together into a fulfilling final act. Roll credits. Happy ending. And there we go.

Sometimes people do things that are wrong... because it makes them feel things more real than their realities. It alleviates the pain of being stuck with the reality that we have, and take that solace, and that escape, of the possibility of getting something more. Of feeling something else. Feeling like in the movies. 

Feel like the characters we so blatantly worship in boxes with blinking lights and strings of data pieced together for a two-storey blank canvas.

I say this to my friends who are going through a tough time, or a tough break-up, or a tough day.
"Characters are what people want to be." - Anthony Suen, Self-Righteous Modern Messiah
Characters, at their core, have definable, categorizable qualities. They have the perfect balance of flaws and virtues. The weighing of their beliefs against their vices, and a carefully planned out exploitation of those elements to create their path towards their end goal. An objective -- characters have that consicous or subconscious dramatic need that always pushes them to go that extra mile.

People? We're reflections of the lives we inhabit. The realities we're stuck with. Our objectives can change on a whim or a bad night out or a worse morning after. They can be as simple and insignifcant as getting a fucking job or as vague and unattainable as changing who the fuck you are as a person. There's no defined path, no grand writer building our character arcs. As much as we want to be a puppet with a purpose, there are no strings attached to what we have, right here, right now.

The wind has purpose, it blows currents and temperatures to where they need to be and stabilize our climate, hopefully for a bit longer than scientists posit, but they do what they're told to because nature tells them too. So, not even "feeling like the wind" in being aimless and ungrounded in your desires is a fitting analogy. You can "storify" anything with symbolism and meaning because that's our biggest vice as a humans -- we embody the qualities we want, or rather the qualities we can't have, in absolutely everything that exists. Again, that's how we're wired.

Reality is worse than wind, it has no course, and no currents that it follows, no crowning namesakes that you can identify and plot on a map. Personal experience is being in a dark room with oven mitts, earplugs, and a blindfold on trying to find that proverbial needle in a room full of shit-all.

Okay, I twisted that one a bit. But my analogy ("storifying", woo!) gets to how story and life, reality and fiction, need each other on a basic level, in our brains and thought processes. Stories plop in that lightbulb with the hanging little string, that you can pull in that dark room full of nasty stuff, and the one singular needle that could very well be your very own dramatic need.

It grounds us. Anchors us. Much like many of my close friends do. My post a few posts ago talks about not letting go of your past for anything, because your past defines who you are right now, and will inform who you are going to become in the future. The past is your story. History, personal or as public as the entire world's existence, is one big stage play. The world's a stage, just like Shakespeare said.

And we, The Players, are stuck acting for as long as we're on it. So you stick together -- you make the most of the story you're in. The reality and the fiction that you're creating parallel to each other. So when you do the things that are "wrong", you have The Players to anchor you back to the "right" path.

JK Simmons' character is right, in some regard. And Argo as an entire movie has it right too -- it's painful to do the right thing -- the thing that a character, and not a person, would do. Not what your friend would do, your father, your mother, your siblings, the person you slept with, your ex-boyfriend, your secret lover, your teacher or professor, your past crush, your boss...or you.

We struggle to be that character we wish we were. The ideal version of ourselves. The camera-ready, script-memorized, fully in-character fictional representation that always made the right choices, the decisions that turned out well for everybody, the paths in life that lead to the least people hurt, and the most smiles made. The one with a destination. A destiny.

But no, we don't have that privilege, or that luxury. We cope with reality against the hope for something fictitious to occur. Our dramatic need is to survive the lives we live with the ability to say, you did it the way you wanted to. There is control out there, control that you and I have, and it's sitting in reality, waiting. It's not fake. Not like everything else around us, out there.

Story versus life. Reality versus fiction. The make-believe versus to actual. What's the damn difference?

Me and you. Your experience and my experience. What's inside there, past the organs and the brain signals. The butterflies and the daydreams. It's not about difference, it's about similarity.

There's a story in everything and everyone. Just pick up a pen and write it.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

I Have No Idea What I'm Doing In My Life


Sorry for the dust around here.

Finally, I feel the urge to actually write to the Internet about my life, which actually just never happens with me anymore; yes, the concept of blogging itself now disgusts me to the point of personal offense towards the very core of my being. 

All jokes aside, the beautiful four month summers of post-secondary life is mercifully coming to an end, and my God am I grateful because I cannot stand another fucking five seconds of it. It's become this desire to just go out and get shit done because if I don't I'll probably just atrophy and remain stuck in an existential limbo for an undisclosed amount of millennia. I'm not much for melodrama but it seems like the only solution to give this blog any sense of interesting-ness anymore.

Should I invoke a poll system? Because I'd run out of ideas pretty quickly.

What has happened in the four months that I haven't been in media production school is actually not totally banal -- I participated in my first forty-hour work week experience that completely drained me mentally and emotionally. And thanks to my friend who I did not realize was the other intern they just hired until the day before, who gave me much needed laughter and comradarie that I would not have gotten if it was just some random dude or woman who I would be awkward working with for six weeks.

So, I got my first taste of what kind of stuff we actually do as 'content creators' -- I learned very intimately the ins and outs of self-distributing an independent film on a national scale. It is not easy. I like to think that us two being the only main sources of information regarding film distribution, theatre relations, and promotional campaigning, we managed to not suck as much as other people would have. And that is enough to keep me sleeping at night (for like two weeks afterwards, and then everything went back to normal). But it was incredibly eye-opening, I met some damn cool people who let me handle their taxes and budgets, which freaked me the fuck out, and I got a taste of what real people do in this industry. They carry around G-Drives everywhere, and my boss had the biggest wall of geek shit I had ever seen. Also, Studio District in Toronto? Pretty tight. 10 years, tops (if moving Stateside upgrades from Pipe Dream to God is Now Shitting On You).

But I get to put on my LinkedIn, "I was a shipping and receiving department". Because I was. FedEx was like a shitty little cousin who wouldn't go away and do as it was told.

That was MAY. And a bit of June. What of the rest of my life from that point onwards?

I played some video games I had always wanted to. That lasted me about twelve seconds of entertainment, as is the case with video games. Somewhere along the line I had the crazy notion of actually doing something worth my time of being a man-child. Thus, I was writing again.

The reason I've ditched this blog is purely because I'm bad at prioritizing and that I'm still completely in the dark about who reads this shit, since commenting on personal blogs is more taboo than screwing a family member, for the Net Generation. The writing has upped in frequency, to the point of the aforementioned not-sleeping-a-lot. Because I'm just thinking of stories and shit. That's what writers do right?

In the three other months I've had, I bought a bunch of screenwriting books, actually read them, and absorbed information as best I could. Next step was to actually put some words on something -- mind you, my pilot script is still in a second-draft phase. But having a pilot script of anything I like to think makes you at least better than someone. Everyone's better than someone. Glass half full, okay?

My television pilot has turned into an budding project to make it into an actual storyline, with seasons, a plot arc, and multiple characters that keep popping up from my subconscious. The goal is to prepare myself as much as possible for Winter 2013, 5th Semester, when the writing courses actually start. If there is one thing I've learned from my first two years of Radio & Television Arts (now RTA School of Media, because we're not old people anymore), it's that preparation is not some dorky thing only nerds do.

If you write something, shoot something, edit something, or compose something without a plan, you are royally fucked from the start -- unless you are an autistic savant or some particular Asians in our program. This summer has been:
  • Learning how to develop character fully -- flesh out inner motivations through establishing backstory, including psychological, physiological and sociological explanations
    • The Screenwriter's Bible by David Trottier is a great tool for learning about any aspects of screenwriting. But this exercise is exhausting and very fun. You are literally making a person out of nothing.
  • Practicing screenwriting format, form, and convention -- the technical aspects of writing a teleplay or screenplay. What I've found from reading a bunch of pilots as well as feature specs is, everyone breaks convention. It will be an eternal struggle for me to understand when it's okay to, and when it isn't. But that only comes when you keep writing shit.
  • Keep writing shit -- the best thing to come out of this summer is keeping the ball rolling; I constantly have ideas for my fictional universe that I created about a year ago. More spaces are being filled very often. That just leads to more ideas for other things. Balls are rolling.
    • My notebook has about fifty pages left, hopefully I start a new one by the time school rolls around. My mind has become something that thinks in scenes, and the only thing to do from there is to write those scenes down. They're know little aside stories to my main plotlines and characters, and serve as backstory research to refer to in the future.
  • Pre-visualize everything - that's what season outlines and backstory research is all about. Building the story world is more of a challenge than anything else in writing for screen, big or small. Building the blocks gets you into building your world. But it's painstaking and it takes months, and probably years. I'm on my second. I have a ways to go.
    • I have an endgame set up for Hotel Six that will lead into a season finale, and as it stands, a second season that will continue the grand story-line -- which means more world-building and character development. Making people is not easy either.
  • Get a writing buddy - call a friend, classmate, distant relative, stranger who you have seen, or luckily know, has the same short-term goals as you: primarily, writing. Be their bud. Have somebody to talk shop with, discuss favorite anything; ice-cream or scenes from Princess Bride. Send each other process work - scene snippets, character tables, lists of ideas. Just talk. Learn from one another. Be around people who give you a sense that you are not wasting your time and your life has meaning. Quite essential. Everyone should have one. Even if you don't write anything. 
That's just one project. I have two movie ideas I've begun developing, one is a genre mash-up, because I love the concept of taking disparate parts and making something cool out of it. The other is something I decided to want to do after watching 50/50, which is an amazing movie, and also inspired the more grounded creative in me to pursue a story that's close to the heart.

I wanted to write something I feel strongly about, something I can materially relate to. The problem was, 50/50's writer had cancer, and he beat it with the help of his friends and family -- there's a good story already written for him. I don't have the luxury of an interesting past. Or an interesting present. So the only solution is a near potential, possibly parallel future. It's about a writer. And it's about imagination, storytelling, our current generation of content creators, and the problems we face when trying to make nothing into something. Don't know where it'll go. But it'll be something. Bet on it.

This is my life. I'm still technically jobless since I was born, in terms of steady income and working the hours per week that everyone else is, and therefore by default, envious that I am not. And therefore, they tell me to suffer the same amount they do, because if I don't do what they do it means something is wrong with the way I'm conducting myself. They're probably right.

So yeah, I have no idea what I'm doing in life. And I'm not happy or sad. I'm not content -- I'll never be content, that's not what writers are. Am I a writer? Fuck if I know. It's a placeholder at the moment. Everybody I know has placeholders, whether they like it or not. It's a perpetual unpaid internship for being a fucking adult. Which sucks. But it's what we have.

As long as nobody else knows what the hell they're doing, we can all be unpaid interns together.

That's three months of words I've caught up on. Now, please give a fuck. Because I finally think I do.