April 26, 2010
Written on April 26, 2010 at 7:46 am, by admin
This morning I’ll address a few questions and comments.
I’ve had requests to add a forum to the site. It’s in the works now, but I’m installing it with trepidation. When I was single, working at Disney and living in an apartment I was rarely home. I decided to purchase an answering machine so that all of those people who wanted to get in touch with me had a way of doing so (this was the dark ages before mobile phones). After installing the device I looked forward to returning home and seeing the red light flash. It was two weeks before this event occurred, and the message left was for John Musker, who had been my roommate but got married and moved out two years before. I cursed this damn machine. Better to fantasize that people wanted to get in touch with me than know with certainty that no one did. Putting a message board on your site is like installing an answering machine that no one may want to call.
My earlier post Favorite Drawing Books sparked debate on the merits of Burne Hogarth’s Dynamic Figure Drawing. When I first showed this book to my High School art teacher she looked at me sideways and said: “You do realize there are no human beings on the planet who actually look like this?” I replied that the same could be said for the figures in Bridgman’s The Complete Guide to Drawing from Life. Her response was: “Yes, but Bridgman is good!” Still, I learned a lot from Hogarth and refuse to take his book off my shelf.
I got an email asking if there was a reason why Claire (in Seven Extraordinary Things) always wears polka dots. The answer is it started as a visual signature. We first meet Claire when she is eleven, and don’t see her again until she’s all grown up. Polka dots and dark curly hair were my way of creating continuity. As the story progressed I found I had a lot of affection for the character and decided she was worth the extra trouble of drawing a pattern on her clothes.
I’ve received inquiries from people who want to know how to sell their film ideas to Hollywood. My short answer is “don’t”. Develop your idea into a complete story first, with a beginning, middle and end, and characters that have first and last names. But this topic is probably worthy of a separate post, and if there is enough interest I’ll share my thoughts and experiences on the subject.
In The Moment – Part Two
Written on March 18, 2010 at 6:41 am, by admin
When we read a story, or watch a movie, we want the protagonist to do what we can’t: live in the moment. The events of the story may, or may not be Earth shattering, as long as they are so important to the main character that they consume every ounce of his or her attention. We demand this as an audience. If we are going to invest the time to watch, or read about a character’s life we want to feel that character is paying attention. If he doesn’t care enough to offer us an immediate reaction to the events at hand, why should we?
Although most of us don’t live moment to moment, we’ve all experienced it. There are times, however fleeting, when something happens that drives out all other thoughts and quiets the internal monologue in our brain. One of the things I love about directing is that it forces me into the moment. This is partially because of the production challenges (which are always a little more than you can comfortably handle) and partially because I have to get actors into the same state.
With Kevin McKdd, James Cosmo and Ben Kingsley
I once had a scene with three actors all speaking in quick succession (not the scene pictured above!). I thought the scene was playing well, but during one take a cast member got one of her lines out of sequence. Suddenly the scene was alive in a way it hadn’t been before. The actors were off script and didn’t know what was coming next. They had to listen, and respond in the moment. It’s an argument for always having something new to introduce to a scene, something that hasn’t been rehearsed and keeps the performances fresh.
There is a paradox in all of this. If we are trying to create a sense of believability in our stories, why would we want our characters to behave in a way that’s unnatural for most adults? In fact, adding distractions (often referred to as “secondary business”) to a scene is usually a good practice. It can make us feel the characters have a life outside of the moment we’re witnessing, and that they will continue to live after the scene ends. There have been times when I’ve given actors the direction to think about something completely different from their dialogue in order to make their performances more natural. These are often transitional moments in a sequence. It’s our job as storytellers to shuttle readers, or the audience, into and out of those states of heightened awareness where the characters are in the moment.
In real life, if someone says something hurtful, we often suppress our response. It’s a defense mechanism that gets us through our daily lives. We might not even feel the pain of it until much later. But we won’t tolerate that kind of behavior from the hero of a story. We want him to react with immediate anger, remorse, or affection. We want him to punch the person who offends him, kiss the girl in public, or kill the villain who’s just done something unforgiveable. We want to witness these emotional responses and see the consequences be dealt with. If the protagonist will do this for us, it brings us a little bit closer to knowing what it might feel like to live an unsuppressed life.
In The Moment – Part One
Written on March 15, 2010 at 5:40 am, by admin
One thing that amazes me about my Miniature Schnauzer, even more than his ability to rend zombies limb for limb, is his ability to live in the moment. Animals and children do this naturally, actors practice it as part of their craft; the rest of us neglect to do it, or have forgotten how. I have a great fear that one day I’ll look back and realize I lived exactly the life I wanted to, but forgot to enjoy it along the way.
When we’re young, living in the moment is easy. We laugh when something makes us happy. We sleep when we’re tired. We cry when we don’t get ice cream (I no longer cry when I don’t get ice cream, but I’m still not happy about it). Eventually we go to school and learn to think before we act and to not say things we’ll regret later. We begin projecting into the future and reliving the past.
Many years ago my wife and I were visiting Disneyland and observed a party of mentally challenged adults being escorted through the park. There was a man in his forties, with stubble on his chin and wearing a bright yellow windbreaker. Someone had purchased him a small stuff animal, which he was staring at with wide-eyed amazement and tenderly stroking with his big hands. It was an image both sad and wonderful. Instead of feeling sorry for him, I found myself envious. For him, that toy, at that moment, was the most marvelous thing in the world.
It’s interesting that this incident pulled me into the moment, and (for a brief time) consumed all of my attention. I’m sure this is why I remember it so vividly. That and the fact I made a sketch of it when I got home.
Knowing I’m not alone in my inability to live in the moment doesn’t make me feel better, but it does bring into focus an important point about storytelling and character development. I’ll go into that in part two of this post.
Revealing Characters through Dramatic Situations
Written on February 8, 2010 at 7:04 am, by admin
I got this responses to “The Rat-Catcher’s Son” from my friend Josh Becker:
I want to know what happens next? I think Bartholomew went out to his horse to get his sword and is coming back for Tom, whom he knows put the rat down his shirt. Now, what will Tom do when he’s confronted by the greatest swordsman in the realm (I just assume he is)? What will Sarah do? Which brings us around to another lesson in character development. What if previous to this incident we learned that Tom doesn’t feel worthy of Sarah’s love because A. he’s the rat-catcher’s son, and B. he doubts his own manhood (rats scare him; girls scare him; everything scares him). Now, Bartholomew returns with his sword, points it at Tom and states, “I’m going to kill you!” OK, who is Tom really? Is he a man or is he a mouse (or a rat, as the case may be)? An interesting character not only does interesting things, but when they’re put into a dramatic situation they reveal themselves.
Josh and I worked together in New Zealand, directing episodes of Hercules and of Xena. More about him at www.beckerfilms.com.
The Rat-Catcher’s Son
Written on February 1, 2010 at 6:43 am, by admin
Click here to return to the Home Page of this site, where new panels of Seven Extraordinary Things are posted daily. New readers to my online graphic novel can begin here.
Do Not Create Characters That Are Interesting
Written on January 29, 2010 at 12:32 pm, by admin
This sounds like heresy. Why wouldn’t you want to create characters that are interesting? Isn’t that the point?
When I began writing my process was simple. I put a sheet of paper into a typewriter (yes, a typewriter) and commenced writing. I created an adventure where people said things, did things, and stuff happened to them. When I finished that first story I gave it to a friend. “Hmmmm,” he said. “Needs better characters.”
I hunted down books on writing. One of them was the excellent Art of Dramatic Writing, by Lajos Egri. I read it cover to cover. I dutifully created back stories for the players in my drama, filling their lives with complications and tragedies. I defined their desires, their fears and their fatal flaws. With all of this in mind, I returned to my typewriter. It came as a bitter disappointment to find none of it made my story better. None of it even made my characters more interesting. Where did I go wrong? Had Lajos Egri lied to me? Was there some concept I missed?
Yes. A ridiculously simple concept. To explain what it is I’ve drawn a short visual narrative called “The Rat-Catcher’s Son”, which I will be posting Monday, February 1st, sometime in the morning (PST).
Unexpected Juxtaposition – Part One
Written on January 7, 2010 at 5:52 am, by admin
One way to create a memorable title is by placing two opposing concepts next to each other.
Slum Dog Millionaire
The Accidental Tourist
The Blackboard Jungle
The Grapes of Wrath
It’s not the only way to create a title, but it is a good way.
The concept of unexpected juxtaposition is applicable to many facets of art and literature. In writing (with words) it often takes the form of a metaphor; a figure of speech in which two unlike objects are implicitly compared without using “like” or “as”. Some examples are “Time is a thief” and “All the world’s a stage”. Metaphors can also make effective titles.
The Heart is a Lonely Hunter
A simile compares unlike objects, but it does use “like” or “as”. “Blind as a bat”, “run like the wind” (both of these are clichés; don’t used them in your writing).
Unexpected juxtaposition can be used effectively in both designing and developing characters. Take two or more disparate elements and combine them in an unexpected way.
It is a way of developing characters. Not the only way.
It can also be applied to the development of a character’s personality. Unexpected juxtaposition can result in “quirks” (such as a private investigator that knits in his spare time) or something more deeply rooted in the character’s nature (a concert pianist who is a serial killer or a curmudgeon who writes romance novels). As with a good metaphor, the objective is not to combine elements that don’t fit together, but that fit together in a surprising, yet ultimately truthful way.
Unexpected juxtaposition is a useful tool in the design and development of characters for your stories, but there are many others.
