The Dark Knight part 1
all stills swiped from film_stills .
berkeley314567 asks:
"I wonder if you’re more interested in the structure than the actual content of the script?"
In a screenplay, there is no difference between structure and content, "actual" or otherwise. A screenplay is a collection of scenes devised in a certain way placed in a certain order to achieve a desired dramatic effect. In the same way that "character" is nothing but habitual action, the "actual content" of a screenplay is nothing but the scenes that fill its pages and the order in which they’re placed. To say "I like the screenplay’s structure but I don’t like its content" is to say "I like that guy but I don’t like the things he does."
David Mamet once said that the only question in an audience’s head during a movie should be "What happens next?" The screenwriter’s job is to keep the audience interested in the story. When the screenwriter does his job well, the audience gets sucked into the story and experiences the thrill of drama. When he does his job very well, the thrill of the experience is so powerful that the audience comes back again and again, even though they know how the story turns out. Spectacle may amaze and movie stars may charm, but if the screenwriter has not done his job well, the movie will still turn out bad and the audience will stay home. The Dark Knight engages the audience on a level unseen in movies lately, and does so while employing a number of bold innovations, which I will discuss as we move forward.
The Dark Knight: where I stand
I’ve been reading over the comments from my last post.
My fascination with The Dark Knight is, primarily, structural. I have not encountered an American movie — much less an American movie designed to be a gigantic blockbuster — that is structured as ingeniously and compellingly as this one. I’ve simply never seen anything like it, and after several viewings it still continues to flabbergast.
Dark Knight discontents
It has come to my attention, via yesterday’s comments, that there are folks out there who not only dislike The Dark Knight, but who find it an abomination — or, as berkeley314567 puts it, "a steaming pile of clusterf*ck." I will not be able to begin proper analysis until Tuesday at the earliest, but until then I’d very much like to hear from folks what they don’t like about the movie. To you folks, I’d like to know what you had heard, what you were expecting, where the movie failed you, how it fell short. Well-stated opinions will be respected and specifics will be greatly appreciated.
I will say this: the folks who compare The Dark Knight to The Godfather or Crime and Punishment I think miss the point (R. Sikoryak notwithstanding). I think a comic-book movie to compare to the tragic grace and penetrating social analysis of The Godfather is just over the horizon, but The Dark Knight is better described as a foursquare, meat-and-potatoes pop-culture action thriller that delivers the goods with spectacular visuals, excellent acting, superb shooting and, for the purposes of this journal, an uncommonly intelligent script. It does not tell us anything profound about the corruption of the human soul, and it does not intend to. I would compare The Dark Knight, instead, to The Fugitive, Alien, Star Wars (that is, episode IV) or The Silence of the Lambs — all movies with pulp roots and grandiose spectacle that transcend their genres and achieve substantial dramatic weight through skillful plotting and firmly grounded, well-performed characters.
Nota Bene
I have a couple of important meetings coming up in the next few days, preparing for which will prevent me from the kind of in-depth blogging you folks have come to expect. My apologies.
Like many Americans this week, I spent more time than I really had available with my DVD of The Dark Knight. If, by some strange quirk of fate, you have not yet obtained a copy of this motion picture, and if you are blessed with a large enough monitor screen, I highly recommend the blu-ray edition. (Oh, and you’ll need a blu-ray player, which you might as well get in any case.) The whole movie looks great, but the action scenes, which were shot in Imax, are simply jaw-dropping in their detail and picture quality.
When I return, before I finish up my Spielberg analysis, I plan to sit down and do a thorough, multi-part, act-by-act, scene-by-scene analysis of The Dark Knight, the densest, most deceptive, most accomplished, most compelling screenplay I’ve encountered in many a year.
(I was also planning on analyzing all the other Batman movies, to better place The Dark Knight in context, and I may still, but I think I will do The Dark Knight first.)
Then Munich, hopefully before Christmas, but you know me.
BREAKING: I am old
The Onion has published their Best Music of the Year list. I find that, of the albums listed, I own one.
One. (Portishead’s Third, to answer your next question.)
Back in my day, if you can believe it, we had artists like Elvis Costello and Talking Heads, and we listened to music on vinyl discs on turntables, where you would put a tiny fake-diamond needle on the surface of the vinyl and then you’d have to sit there and listen to the songs in the order the artist intended while you looked at the big cardboard sleeve the thing came in. Now it’s all blippity-blip music and coarse youth with their gaudy styles and lack of melody. Where did you go, Johnny Rotten?
Also: get off my lawn.
Spielberg: War of the Worlds part 4
Ray Ferrier has spent three acts of War of the Worlds fleeing the predations of the unknowable aliens who seem bent on destroying his family — that is, his action has been, up to now, the act of avoiding action. Now, as Act IV begins, the aliens go one step over the line, forcing Ray into a crisis of action.
Spielberg: War of the Worlds part 3
As Act III of War of the Worlds begins, Ray Ferrier, who has just lost his son, seeks refuge from the giant mechanical beasts rampaging across the countryside. He heeds the call of Harlan Ogilvy, who lures him down into the basement of an abandoned house (either that, or it’s Harlan’s own house — I’m not sure). Ray only wants to hide, to get out of the way of the horrifying machines, but he will find out that Harlan has much bolder plans in mind — armed insurrection. (Why Ray should be surprised at Harlan’s plans is something of a mystery — Harlan calls Ray into his basement by holding a shotgun aloft in his clenched fist — a signal for armed insurrection if ever there was one.)
Spielberg: War of the Worlds part 2
At the end of Act I, Ray Ferrier sees his home — indeed, his town — destroyed by gigantic machines from another planet. In Act II, the longest of War‘s acts, he will take his kids on a road trip to find a safe haven. He will seek refuge in his ex-wife’s home (in the basement), then, when that home is also destroyed, he will flee toward her parents’ house in Boston. Before he reaches Boston, he will lose his son and be forced to take shelter in a third home, this one not his own (in another basement).
Spielberg: War of the Worlds part 1
WHAT DOES THE PROTAGONIST WANT? Ray Ferrier, like Frank Abagnale, has lost his home. Like Viktor Navorski, he has lost his home due to an unexpected war. Like John Anderton, he has a problem with losing his son.
Tweets for Today
- 09:29 Good instructions on how to setup LT on LJ mouser.livejournal.com/379686.html #
- 09:51 One issue should now be fixed, still monitoring and I’ll blog about it later (blog.loudtwitter.com/) #
Automatically shipped by LoudTwitter
UPDATE: Seriously, what the hell is this? I have no idea. There must have been a box that I checked somewhere a couple of months ago, I’ve never seen this before. Now if I could only find out how to either:
*use it
*un-check it
Any 21st-century people of the future out there?
Also: iChat — my new laptop seems to think it’s something everyone uses all the time. WTF?