Existential Crises

You Should Be a Film Writer

You don't just create compelling stories, you see them as clearly as a movie in your mind. You have a knack for details and dialogue. You can really make a character come to life. Chances are, you enjoy creating all types of stories. The joy is in the storytelling. And nothing would please you more than millions of people seeing your story on the big screen!

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

Clearly, I'm not supposed to be writing novels. I find this revelation disturbing, but I'm still waiting for the full-fledged existential crisis to hit. I'll let you know when it does.

In other news, I thoroughly enjoyed Pirates 2: it's been a long time since I saw a movie so unabashedly fun. (Not to mention rollicking . . . :-) Once it was over, though, I found myself questioning a particular character choice--

We interrupt this commentary for a Public Service Announcement:

Here Be Spoilers!

if you haven't yet seen the movie, read further at your own peril (which, as the Dark Foresters would say, is very great). We return now to your regularly scheduled over-analyzation of summer blockbusters, which were never intended to be deeply analyzed.

--namely, Jack Sparrow's callous betrayal of Will. My sister and fellow-over-analyzer, Efotlotras, objects to this as inconsistent with Jack's true character. (And my friend Penumbra of the aforementioned Dark Forest--who is definitely more the Pirates expert than I am--agrees.) I initially thought it was ok--the way I remembered it, Jack was a thoroughly self-centered character, and at this point he was trying to get out of eternal torment. After consideration, though, I found myself objecting to the betrayal for different reasons.

The whole point of Will's arc in the first movie was him coming to terms with his pirate heritage, and embracing the concept that he could be both a pirate and a good man. Jack Sparrow served as his mentor and example, helping him reach this conclusion (and discover his true pirate self). But for Jack to betray Will in the second movie completely destroys any illusion of his "goodness," suggesting that he really doesn't care about anyone but himself. So far, this strikes me as good storytelling and good sequel-writing: it forces Will to question his loyalty, his ideology, his whole way of life.

Trouble is, they don't go there. Will's existential crisis never happens--instead we get a delightfully wacky swordfight, and at the end of the movie he's willing to do anything to rescue Jack (who has apparently redeemed himself by staying on the Pearl to face the Kraken). The way I look at it, if you want to have a fun adventure movie sequel, don't set up your characters for an existential crisis; and if you're going to set him up for one, if you're going to do something that could subvert everything from the first movie, go all out.

After reading this interview, though, I'm starting to think the writers have more up their sleeve than I'm giving them credit for--they seem perfectly aware of the conflicts they've created, and I'll be interested to see how they deal with them in the final installment. (Thanks to Peter Chattaway for posting the interview.)

Oh, and while I'm posting links, here's an interesting article for my fellow Angel fans (all two of you :-). If you missed this on Whedonesque, it's a good read, and addresses one of my (many and strident) complaints about seasons 4 & 5. (If you're not a Buffy-Angel person, this won't make any sense; and if you haven't see all 12 seasons, beware major spoilers.)

And for our final crisis of the day (this makes 3, if you're wondering) . . . . my diploma appeared today, arriving just as World magazine finally acknowledged PHC's recent existential crisis. Ironic, to say the least.

(This arrival also came 2 days after I received my final grades for the semester. On the happy side, I finally had a 4.0 semester. On the less-than-happy, I discovered that my GPA entitled me to Magna & High rather Summa & Highest. Not a big deal, but you'd think they would get these things right the first time.)

While it's very satisfying to have a nice shiny diploma to look at, looking at Drs. Farris & Sanders' signatures also brought back all the conflicted feelings of the graduation ceremony; and the World article struck me as much too neutral (Not to mention behind the times: no new angle or new information. Everyone else was publishing this stuff a couple of months ago.) Though to be fair, they're very open about their ties to the school--

We interrupt this burgeoning rant for another Public Service Announcment:

If you are experiencing an existential crisis of your own, please do not contact the Radical Freudeggerian Feminists Against Interpretation. We are always happy not to help you.

And now, back to . . . oh well, looks like we missed the rant . . . .

In non-crisis-related news, I get off work at five (yes, I am allowed to blog-post at work), after which time I plan to practice organ and start seriously revising my novel.

Wait a sec--I'm not supposed to be a novelist.

Help!

wacky fun

i like 4th of July celebrations.
especially when they have cakewalks with wacky hamburger cakes. :-)
(thanks to Cassiel for the photos)

Introductions, Memories, Red Herrings

I have a new friend. He's elegant, sophisticated, attractive, and loves taking pictures of me:











. . . and my sisters:





His name is Cassiel. Yeah, it's a weird name, but I think it's perfect for a shiny new MacBook. :-)

We went to see Superman Returns yesterday. A somewhat momentous occasion, since it's the first time I was disappointed by a Bryan Singer movie. The pacing was good; it was visually impressive; and the score was excellent: grand, emotional, heroic, intense. But an emotional score can only do so much. I never connected with the characters, or felt their emotions, the way I wanted to. I wanted to love the movie. But the Spiderman movies, and Singer's own contributions to the X-Men franchise, have set the bar really high; and this Superman, despite perfect hair and apparently limitless superpowers, flew under it.

Oh, well. The Spiderman 3 teaser looks dark and brilliant, and Wonder Woman is coming; so there is some happy news in the world of superhero movies.

As a side note: I kept thinking I had seen Sam Huntington (Jimmy Olsen) before, but couldn't place him. So I IMDbed him when I got home--and discovered that I knew him from my newest favorite TV show: Veronica Mars.

We finished watching season 1 Thursday night. I'll try to avoid spoilers (in the hopes that at least one or two of you will go watch the show, instantly), but--it's amazing. It constantly surprised me, made me laugh, and pretty much broke my heart. Which is the highest praise I can give.

Show creator Rob Thomas borrowed a few pages from Joss Whedon's book (as well as casting him as a guest star in a season 2 episode), but there are plenty of other influences here, and Thomas & his writers are rather brilliant in their own right. The result is a show that reminds you of Buffy in some ways. It takes a male-dominated genre (detective/noir) and gives center stage to a blond girl who can outwit and out-quip just about anyone; places her in a high school where she's ostracized; and surrounds her with enemies, allies, and friends--none of whom are what you expect, and all of whom have layers. Lots of layers.

But the show also has its own distinctive feel and personality, along with sharp and clever dialogue, excellent acting, and enough hilarity to (almost) balance the pain. And it's extremely well-paced. There are plenty of mysteries-of-the-week (some brilliant, others less so), but each episode provides clues to the "big" mystery, which centers around the murder of Veronica's best friend, Lilly Kane, a year before the show begins. The plotting excellent, but it always remains character-driven--so much so that when Alyson Hannigan appeared in a guest starring role, the "yay! Willow!" moment didn't even happen. It was completely overshadowed by me crying (well, almost crying) for one of the regulars.

The writers use flashbacks and dream sequences to introduce Lilly's character to the viewers. But they really make the flashbacks feel like memories, capturing the sense that Veronica, and the other people close to Lilly, can't go a day without thinking about her. You feel, and understand, what Lilly meant to the people who loved her--what she still means to them--and how they lost not only Lilly, but part of themselves when she died. That's something most movies and shows get completely wrong. (And these writers don't take the easy way out, either: Lilly was a flawed person, and not always particualarly likeable.)

My only major complaint involved a red herring towards the end of the season. I knew it was a red herring, and was upset with Veronica for being fooled by it. But after rewatching a couple of things, I've changed my mind: it makes perfect sense; I would have been fooled too. Which makes a resulting development even more upsetting . . . . but, as my mentor once pointed out, that's a sign of good writing. (Her exact words, after a tragic event in my novel: "That's good! Upset your readers!")

I could go on raving, but I won't. I'll just mark August 22 on my calendar, and hope that someone feels like preordering season 2 for my birthday present. ;-)

Now that I've finished Veronica, I need to get back to my novel and my reading list. I haven't been doing too badly with the reading: I finally read Four Quartets my first week home--I just sat down in my bedroom and read the whole thing, aloud, without interruption, as the light outside slowly faded. It was incredible, though I'm pretty sure I only understood a third of it. I also finally read a Graham Greene novel--The Power and the Glory. I'll have to read it again to be sure, but I think it makes my absoltue favorites list. I don't know how to describe it, except that Greene makes you feel like you're there, and things are so bad for the protagonist that you feel guilty for eating chocolate while you read it. (And you should read it. Soon. :-) He also shifts perspectives effortlessly and effectively, in a way that reminds me of film.

Right now I'm halfway through Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. As my mother said yesterday, it's the kind of book that makes you despair of ever being a writer: Dillard's writing is so incredibly beautiful, the range of things she quotes so broad and varied. I've been meaning to read it ever since Dr. Sillars read us the opening paragraphs in English Comp--I don't know why it took me this long. But I'll definitely read more of her.

And now I'm going to go do something productive . . . . like double-checking the release date for Veronica Mars: Season 2. :-) As Garrison Keillor says: Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.

Oh, a word of advice before you go: Beware of running with scissors, or any other pointy object. And beware of watching Primer between 2 and 3 in the morning. It wants a wakeful afternoon.