Superheroes: Batman (1989) part 1
Batman has an interesting agenda: the screenplay wants to keep its title character mysterious and elusive for as long as possible. Both Batman and Bruce Wayne are presented as cold, remote and unreachable. "Why won’t you let me in?" asks Vicki Vale, as well she might. Bruce Wayne takes a long time to emerge as a protagonist in Batman, and Batman takes even longer. For the longest time, Bruce/Batman is pursued, tangled with and drawn out, with the effect being to turn him into a kind of mythological figure, or even a fetish object.
The act thing
Can we see a break-down of the concepts behind the Multiple Acts school of writing? I’ve had the idea of three acts only shoved down my throat for years and it feels wrong to try to shoehorn a story into this particular artificial construct. Is there some magic number of acts, or do you just need to make sure your story has a beginning and an ending of some sort and build from there or something else entirely? — quitwriting
Completely agreed. I don’t fully understand what makes one act disparate from the next. — erranthope
I’d be interested to see this as well. — stormwyvern
I currently define an act as when the status quo changes into something else, and those changes are irreversible...How many acts, though? My answer right now is "however many you need to tell the story". — Kent M. Beeson
Let me answer this the best way I know, by telling a story:
“Who does what” in practical terms: the making of “Grasshopper”
Following up from my previous post, wherein I described, in rather dry, technical terms, the jobs of some of the principal players on a movie set, to give the novice some idea of what all that means I offer this personal experience.
In the autumn of 2001, a PRODUCER named Patricia Maguire came to me and asked me to write and direct a short film based on a Chekhov story of my choosing. I chose "Grasshopper," a tale of marriage and betrayal and seduction and sudden death.
I wrote my script (it was 25 pages) and submitted it to Patricia. She had a few notes, which were good notes, and I incorporated them into the script. (The wise screenwriter accepts good ideas from anyone, no matter who they are — producer, director, actor or man on the street. The trick is having a clear enough understanding of what you’re doing so that you can tell a good idea from a bad one.)
Who does what
The Executive Producer, Producer, Director, Director of Photography and Screenwriter of a typical Steven Spielberg movie.
berkeley314567 writes:
I’m hoping you can help me with some basic movie industry knowledge. In discussions of movies, how they’re made, individual roles, etc., I’m constantly asked who really does what. For example, does it really matter that the executive producer of “Big Success” also produced “New Film?” Is it really a stamp of quality? I’ve tried to figure it out, but not being part of the business it’s still a little murky. So here’s my basic understanding:
Executive Producer – Provides the money, has final say on several matters.
Producer – Deals with day to day operational matters.
Screenwriter(s) – Provides the foundational material.
Director of Photography/Cinematographer – Creates the look of the film, including angles of shots, lighting, coloring
Director – Oversees individual takes, tries to get actors to deliver a performance that meets his ‘vision,’ decides when to move on to next scene.
Key Grip – Makes sure nothing moves that isn’t supposed to.
Best Boy Grip – No friggin’ clue.
So, assuming that I’m (mostly) right about the above job roles, what happens when someone like Spielberg or Cameron steps up to the helm? Do they just get more of the credit? Do they take on multiple roles? How accurate is it to say that Spielberg’s success is due in large part to good script selection, like Tom Hanks?
“Based on a True Story”
noskilz writes:
"My least favorite words to see in conjunction with any film is "based on a true story", because I tend to assume, unfairly or not, that films given the choice between "interesting" or "accurate" tend to go with "interesting." It just doesn’t occur to me that if I want to know more about something, I ought to catch the movie. How widespread this negative bias is, I have no idea."
I think the effectiveness of a movie (or a song,or a play) to shape mass consciousness with regard to a real-life event is directly proportionate to the talent of the artist involved. In the case of William Zantzinger, discussed yesterday, you have a world-class mega-heavyweight artist, Bob Dylan, weighing in on an event that is mere hours old when he sets his pen to paper. Zantzinger has been sentenced, the news has been reported, Dylan has read the headline, and by the end of the afternoon the heart-stopping classic "Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll" has been completed, which will then go on to shape the public’s perception of William Zantzinger forever.
William Zantzinger
I noted the other day the passing of William Zantzinger. What did William Zantzinger do, you might ask. Well, every Bob Dylan fan knows the answer to that — "William Zantzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll, with a cane that he twirled ’round his diamond-ring finger." "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll" is the high-water mark of Dylan’s "protest songs" era, a compelling, crushing indictment of careless racism and social injustice (Zantzinger was sentenced to a mere six months for killing Carroll in a drunken rage).
I mention the lonesome death of Mr. Zantzinger here because, a few years back, I was listening to a version of "Hattie Carroll" from one of Dylan’s many live albums, and I suddenly thought "Wait — this is a real guy." William Zantzinger is a real guy." Dylan recorded this song practically on the day the events unfolded, but he’s still singing the song in concert thirty, forty years later. In the song, Dylan paints William Zantzinger in all shades of ill repute, presents him in terms of lofty wealth and political connections, the better to contrast him to his victim, poor Hattie Carroll, who lived a simple, spare, selfless life of servitude and motherhood.
And it hit me: Jesus, what must it be like to be William Zantzinger? Just imagine, everywhere you go, you introduce yourself, and in the mind of every person of a certain age, a little song starts playing.
YOU: "Hi, I’m William Zantzinger."
GUY: (thinks, humming) "William Zantzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll…"
(GUY slowly backs away, giving you a vaguely disgusted look)
Spielberg: Munich part 5
Avner has gone from being an "ordinary" government agent, trying to be a soldier in the defense of his famiy (and his nation, which he thinks of as his family, as it thinks of him as a son), to being an angry killer bent on revenge. He now lives in a moral nightmare and it’s not going to get better. How will he survive his predicament?
Spielberg: Munich part 4
In Act IV of Munich, protagonist Avner strays far from his assignment. He has become a homeless non-person in order to serve his nation and family, and here finds out what happens when given that kind of responsibility, and that kind of freedom.
Spielberg: Munich part 3
Avner is now a father, and has sent his wife and baby away from his homeland to live in the "New World," ie Brooklyn. He’s going to carry on with his unpleasant work, traveling Europe assassinating terrorists. In Act III, it doesn’t get easier, as the line between evil terrorist and righteous knight becomes increasingly blurred. Avner, who has no relationship with his own father to speak of, will meet a new father in Act III, will meet him and be rejected by him in record time.