In a blog entry I made almost a year ago (Nov 11: “It’s About Time”) I asserted that “time” to humans is about judgment; that Groundhog Day is about the theme of “Time” to the degree that it is about Phil’s changing judgments as to what to do at any given time, and that these choices defined who he was. I asserted that Phil was time itself, and so am I, and so are you.
The big thing going on in my life right now besides watching my net-worth tumble is, of course, I’m once again teaching screenwriting. Students want to know the rules of structure and I get to explain it to them. This is a tricky business since the biggest rule is that the rules may not be helpful. I tell them, “Follow the structural paradigms – unless they feel wrong.” Alternately I tell them, “Write whatever you want. If the script isn’t working, however, try comparing what you’ve done to the structural paradigms.” In other words, the rules are helpful, except when they’re not. How does a writer decide when to follow the structural orthodoxy and when to abandon it?
That’s up to the writer. That is, in fact, what makes each writer unique: judgment. Is it time to follow the rules or is it time to make up some new ones? It is because of this judgment that screenwriting is an art and screenwriters are artists. This is no paint by numbers situation. You can’t assemble this bicycle from a kit. Writing reflects that part of humanity that can somehow be learned, but cannot in fact be taught.
As I watch the economic crisis unfolding and Reagan uber-conservative free-market capitalists crawling over each other to socialize the banks, I am once again drawn to this question of time and judgment. The question: what time is it?
The most doctrinaire of doctrinarians in the economic and political worlds see their neatly structured world crumbling. The rules that seemed so clear to them for so long if applied at this moment of time would bring disaster, and so with utter bewilderment they abandon their most cherished beliefs, choosing to bend rather than break.
I’ve heard it said that a conservative is just a liberal who has been mugged, and that there are no atheists in foxholes. Our most hallowed structures fall when the right time and place challenge them beyond reason.
A lesson I might give my students would be to take the truest, most sacrosanct unbendable truth they know, and then to write a story proving it wrong. Could you do that? Could you imagine a character and a set of conditions that would disprove your truth? I bet you could. I bet a lot of conservative economists who could not imagine such a scenario before could well imagine one now.
Some people cling to structure regardless of the situation, showing no judgment at all. I had a high school biology teacher who liked to proclaim that there is more than one way to skin a cat, that there are, in fact two ways: a right way and a wrong way. I think he really believed it. And it may be true - until someone comes up with a better “right” way. A new tool. A different kind of cat. Maybe certain time constraints would change the cat-skinning priorities (a new best way for when you’re in a hurry), or maybe a specific new need for cat-skin would necessitate different skinning techniques. It is unlikely that my teacher would have discovered any of these alternatives as long as he was certain of how right he was.
I have always been drawn to respect people with personal codes, people who stand up for their beliefs come what may. I’m attracted to their integrity and strength. People who stand for nothing would, as the song goes, fall for anything. But of course, those other people, the ones who do rigidly stand for something, they can also fall for anything. People who believe strongly in following our leaders no matter what they say and do, no matter how conditions may have changed, well, who’s crying now?
You can’t follow the rules into a great screenplay. You need to react to realities in the screenplay itself as well as those in the marketplace and in the greater viewing society. You need to apply your intelligence, sensibility, experiences and creativity. No rules can measure those things and tell you what choices to make. That’s a human choice, a judgment call.
And right now, at this time, when I’m looking for leadership in the economic and political arenas, the qualities of a leader that I’m looking for have nothing to do with labels and structures and doctrines. I’d just like to see someone up there who knows the time of day.
Filed under: Uncategorized by danny
A few questions for you. You posted, “I’ve heard it said that a conservative is just a liberal who has been mugged, and that there are no atheists in foxholes. ”
What would a liberal be? A conservative who has lost their job/money? (Maybe to a ruthless business concern–an even worse form of mugger.)
And have you ever heard it said that someone “swears like a trooper?”
You posted, “Our most hallowed structures fall when the right time and place challenge them beyond reason… A lesson I might give my students would be to take the truest, most sacrosanct unbendable truth they know, and then to write a story proving it wrong.”
A law school education will teach a person that every coin has two sides and that every hair can be split. Still, it is hard to become comfortable with the need to see what’s on the other side of some coins or to split certain hairs. The very thing you are challenging your students to do could lead to a fresh way of looking at things–or it could lead to a rationale for plunging into another dark age. Where does discretion enter into this exploration?
“What would a liberal be? A conservative who has lost their job/money?” Good example, and not so hard to imagine.
You ask where discretion enters the picture. Another word for discretion might be “Judgment”, and that is my point exactly. A lawyer may be trained to argue any viewpoint imaginable, but it is the judgment of the jury that determines the wise or otherwise appropriate application of arguments. In his own life the hair-splitting coin-tossing lawyer is the jury as well.
As you suggest, a screenwriter who challenges his or her cherished beliefs is expanding his consciousness, learning to empathize with a person who they at one time only saw as an “other”, seeing the possibilities in the impossible. That’s part of what makes us valuable to society.
Many great religions encourage us to walk in another man’s shoes, which is an aspect of what I’m talking about. And after a nice, long walk, should you stay in the other guys Birkenstocks or should you return to your Nikes? Nobody can tell you that. Is it always time for Nikes? Is it always time for Birkenstocks? Is it ever time for loafers? Is it ever time for bad shoe analogies?
I’ll say it again: judgment - it’s who we are.
I like what you said about the Rules. Everyone talks my head off about Screenplay Rules. Go eff yourself and your Rules.
You can’t teach someone to write a great screenplay. You can teach them to write a mediocre screenplay that someone might buy because things explode, but if a person don’t have the talent - a person don’t have the talent.
I only like Rules when it comes to dodgeball . I need to know when it’s okay to chuck a plastic ball at someone.
You’ve given insights into the writer’s world and some sage advice. It leaves me wondering, additionally, if you believe in any superstitions or if you follow any rituals when you write. Athletes have all kinds of rituals, superstitions, crochets, talismans, and lucky/unlucky omens regarding their performance and of their sport. Do you (or do writers you’ve met) rely on such things?
My own rituals border on procrastination. For instance, I might answer my email, or respond to a query like this one. I’ll clean up my desk, straighten, launder, file… Or I’ll just get right to work. The deeper I’m into a project, the easier it is to just go for it. In fact, my workspace becomes quite the dump towards the end of a project, to the point where you could say I have a ritual of letting my environment go to seed until the script is completed, at which point I thoroughly clean the space before beginning something new.
I have a writer friend who does an elaborate ritual before setting to work that involves waving a pencil or paintbrush in a certain way and spinning while reciting something. It’s purposely goofy and is meant to put him into a loose, happy, uninhibited state of mind. I have another writer friend who has no rituals, but her writing desk is covered with meaningful talismen, and this is the only place where she writes.
How ’bout you?
Although I’m not a professional writer, I do have a few crotchets. Have a photo of Frank Sullivan at his typewriter, resting above my computer. (Frank Sullivan is one of my favorite humorists.) On a good day I pick up playful vibes from that image.
Also have a small sign taped underneath the shelf above my computer monitor with the big, bold words “This Way Out” printed on it. That comes from another favorite movie (”Groundhog Day” is still number one on my list.) “Stranger Than Fiction.” I love the scene where Harold is running through the corridor to the subway (searching for a phone) and in the background you see an illuminated sign reading “This Way Out.” Anyway, to me it suggests the creative possibilities sitting before me in my computer.
Guess that’s it… oh, and I’m a morning person, so my best stuff tends to come together early in the day. Many times the “night shift” passes on writing suggestions on their way out and upon awakening I have to get to the computer to put them down before I forget what they were. Does it get any lazier than that? I’m writing while I’m sleeping.
…proving once again that screenwriting is a dream job.
Hi Danny
Happy New Year from an erstwhile blog lurker (I wrote how writing got me into al anon). Per Stanley Fish, Groundhog Day made the Top Ten list of all times, the only outright comedy of the bunch! Kudos.
http://fish.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/01/04/the-10-best-american-movies/
Not that you should write another comedy soon.
Unless you can make it look like X-Box or Guitar Hero.
Cheers, Susan