Spook Hunt: On Writing

It was 1:57 am.  I had already gotten up once out of bed and dragged my ass in front of my computer, I really didn't want to have to do it again. My brain however didn't care. It kept swirling with ideas, dialogue and shot setups.

Go to sleep please, I told it.

Nope.

I knew it was a losing battle.  The more I tried to shut my brain down, the more ideas kept popping up, and when a good idea floated across, part of my brain kept flashing so I would remember that idea by morning.

Eventually I gave up, plopped in front of the computer and begin writing - or should I say, not so much writing, as brain-dumping all these ideas into Microsoft Word.  You see, I don't really write while I'm at the keyboard, I just self dictate ideas, sentences and dialogue that I've already worked over in my mind time and time again.

My best times for "writing" are either right when I'm drifting off to sleep, or when I'm in the shower. Something about when there's no other distractions allows these thoughts that have been percolating in the dark recesses of my mind to finally float to the surface.  Then it's a mad dash to record them before they sink back down into forgotten darkness. I've written many a blog post with nothing but a towel wrapped around myself - desperately trying to jot the ideas down before the images fade away from memory.

Why I can't write like a normal person (you know, sit in front of the computer, work through an idea and start typing) I really don't know, but this is what I'm stuck with.

So, a number of weeks ago I realized that I would have to re-write (and re-shoot and re-edit) the first two scenes of my movie, Spook Hunt.  It's not that they were horrible, they just were just a little flat. And they were almost 4 minutes long - a sure death sentence for a short film that needs to be 15 minutes or less.

These were two perfectly good scenes where my two characters discuss what's going on and set up what will happen - you know, the dreaded exposition scenes.  I tried to dress them up as much as I could, but I knew it was a losing battle.  After shooting and editing the first two scenes of my movie, I knew they would have to go.  I still didn't know how to fix them however.

Fortunately a good friend gave me great notes that hit it on the head why the scenes weren't working.  One of his criticisms was that the dialogue was too "on the nose", a very typical problem for neophyte screenwriters.

The premise is very simple:  Charles has been hearing and seeing weird things in his house and his wife has freaked out and wants to sell the house - not a good idea in this economy.  He has brought his buddy Rob over to help him investigate and hopefully rid himself of his ghostly problem.  Now obviously there is more going on in the movie (especially the end), but this is how it starts, so I just needed a way to get into the film and set it up.

I had the two guys sitting around talking about the weird sound Charles had captured; when the sound had been recorded, what it could mean, how the sound had effected his family, while they looked at and listened to the sound.  Pretty one-dimensional.  Then I had the two of them discussing the gear they were going to use (a camera, flashlight and digital recorder)  and why it was important to use that gear, and how capturing something on that gear would help solve Charles' problem, all while they got the gear together.  Again, one-dimensional.

Yeah, I added some other stuff to each scene, but it was just window dressing.  The problem is people, especially guys, just do not talk like that. They usually have cross-purposes and talk over each other and change the subject and evade and eventually get back to the subject at hand.  That push and pull is what helps make a scene dynamic.

There was no real conflict or tension in either scene.  Charles is kinda freaked out and desperate, while Rob is concerned -  doesn't make for great drama.

Finally, it came to me that I should just combine the two scenes.  Have Rob listening to the weird sound while Charles is getting gear together. Except Rob isn't really listening to the sound - he's half paying attention to it while texting on the phone and trying to get Charles to go get a drink with his buddies.  Ah, that's better, a little dynamism and tension.  It doesn't take much to bring a scene alive.  Now there is a natural arc to the scene where Rob starts out as skeptical and non-committed but then eventually agrees to help his buddy out.  But of course, to keep some tension going through the next couple of scenes, I added one caveat:  Rob gives him just two hours - then he's dragging his ass out to get some drinks.

The other issue was I just had too many pieces of information crammed into these first two scenes, so my movie was top-heavy.  It was like, 4 minutes of setup and information and plot points and then whammo - 10 minutes of non-stop ghostly action culminating in a wild climax.  So, it was just a matter of paring down those plot points to the essentials in the beginning, eliminating some altogether, and then sprinkling the rest throughout the following ghost-hunting scenes so that I could build a more natural rhythm of tension and release.

This of course meant that I would have to work on not only the first two scenes of my script, but many of the later ones as well, all while I had already shot half of the movie already. 

Now you can understand why my head was swimming with ideas at 1:57 in the morning...

My Favorite All-Time Lovecraftisms

You know, those, antiquated adjectives or quirky twists of a phrase that are so uniquely H.P. Lovecraft:
- cyclopean cities
- sky-flung monoliths
- unnatural geometry
- tottering houses
- gulfs of time
- incomprehensible realms
- unnamable, unmentionable
- undreamable abysses
- swarthy
- eldritch
- Stygian, Phrygian
- leered mockingly
- loathsome tittering
- bloated corpulence
- unhallowed blasphemies
- immemorial lunacy
- shambling forms
- spectral moonlight
- shapeless things
- "The ___ in/of the____"   story titles

What are some of your favorites?

Disneyland - The Scariest Place on Earth

It's common knowledge that those things that terrified us as a child eventually become the neuroses that plague us as adults.  And one thing that clearly stands out for me as a child was being led into a small dark room, the only exit quickly closing behind me while a scary-sounding man mocked me:

“Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host – your ‘Ghost Host.’

Then the paintings on the walls started growing as the whole room seemed to be growing with it. Or was I shrinking?

“Your cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of foreboding, almost as though you sense a disquieting metamorphosis. Is this haunted room actually stretching? Or is it your imagination, hmm…?”
 
It didn't help any that some of the people in the room with me seemed to be tittering, as if this was funny.  Couldn't they see that this was NOT FUNNY.  Something was VERY WRONG HERE!

I wanted out.  Simple as that - mom, get me outta here ok?


“…And consider this dismaying observation: this chamber has no windows, and no doors... which offers you this chilling challenge: to find a way out! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Of course, there's always my way...”

Lights go out.  NO WAY OUT? WHAT!!!?!?

Some people start to scream and then BANG!!!  With a flash of lightning a hanging man is revealed RIGHT ABOVE MY HEAD!!

Pure animal instinct flows through my veins and hits my adrenal glands like molten electricity.
Flight or fight. I choose flight.

GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!

I'm told I cannot leave.  It's just make-believe. Get in the moving car and enjoy the ride.

Yeah, right.

Flash-forward a few decades as my family and I visit the Happiest Place on Earth.  I have not been back since that fateful night.  This is also the first time for my two boys, ages 4 and 7.  As an adult I want to re-experience some of the demons that haunted me as a child.  This place is full of them.  I want to see with adult eyes what was so scary to me as a child.  Maybe I can gain some insights into what dark alchemy makes something "scary", and use that in my movies.

Maybe I can sleep better at night.

Lost finale in a nutshell

Willy Wonka: So who can I trust to run the factory when I leave and take care of the Oompa Loopa's for me? Not a grown up. A grown up would want to do everything his own way, not mine. So that's why I decided a long time ago that I had to find a child. A very honest, loving child, to whom I could tell all my most precious candy making secrets.
Charlie Bucket: So that's why you sent out the golden tickets!
Willy Wonka: That's right. So the factory is yours, Charlie. You can move in immediately.
Grandpa Joe: And me?
Willy Wonka: Absolutely.
Charlie Bucket: But what happens to the rest...?
Willy Wonka: The whole family. I want you to bring them all.

R.I.P. Frank Frazetta

I was saddened to hear of the death of the legendary Frank Frazetta this morning.

The Vault of Horror did a nice write-up about his life and legacy.

The amazing Conan paperback covers were my introduction to Frazetta's work - and to a world of larger than life heroes, monsters and oh yeah... those luxuriously captivating women!  I would spend hours falling into those canvases and swimming in those scenes that seemed so real - a doorway into another world. My limited brain could not begin to fathom how a person could dream up, yet alone put on canvas such extraordinary images.

Others like Boris Vallejo and Chris Achillios would follow, but none could touch the blazing talent of the master.  He was a prodigious talent, a huge atlas of a man whose broad shoulders many, many people would stand on to produce much of what we know of the visual language of fantasy, sci-fi, sword & sorcery, and horror.

Frank was an overwhelming influence on me as a young artist and continues to shape the way I view composition, color, and dramatic tension within the image.

He will be tremendously missed, but we are fortunate that his visions will live on forever in the fabric of our daily lives.

The Overactive Editor

One of my pet peeves of modern filmmaking is the overabundance of "coverage" shot for a given scene.

Coverage! coverage! coverage! is the rallying cry for too many directors.  If the story of a scene can be covered with one camera angle, then certainly it must be better if it was shot with 4 or 6 or 10!

And of course once all that film has been burned (or more likely, digital media has been filled up), and the expense of all those camera setups and re-lights (not to mention the assistant editor's time to capture and log all those takes) has been added to the budget, the editor sure as hell better use all those shots - whether it suits the story or not.

Thank goodness we have Walter Murch to remind us what's important:

• An overactive editor, who changes shots too frequently, is like a tour guide who can't stop pointing things out: "And up there we have the Sistine Ceiling, and over here we have the Mona Lisa, and, by the way, look at these floor tiles..." If you are on a tour, you do want the guide to point things out for you, of course, but some of the time you just want to walk around and see what you see.  If the guide - that is to say, the editor - doesn't have the confidence to let people themselves occasionally choose what they want to look at, or to leave things to their imagination, then he is pursuing a goal (complete control) that in the end is self-defeating. People will eventually feel constrained and then resentful from the constant pressure of his hand on the backs of their necks.

Walter Murch,  In The Blink of An Eye

My mantra while editing is that I should always have a reason for making every single cut.  Every time you destroy the fabric of temporal and spatial continuity in a scene to make a cut, you better have a good reason for it.  Just switching to another camera angle because you have one available is not good enough.  Plus, you're giving me a dang headache - so knock it off!

The Commune's Elisabeth Fies Interview

Speaking of courageous independent filmmakers, The Vault of Horror just posted an audio interview with writer/director Elisabeth Fies wherin she brilliantly discusses her horror/thriller The Commune, her take on genre films with a feminist point of view, and the process of indie filmmaking.

(FULL DISCLOSURE:  I am of course the editor and a producer of The Commune so I have a completely biased opinion of the movie - so there.  However, unbiased opinions can be found here, here, and oh yeah, here.)