Bumping around the blogs
h/t to Joshua James for alerting me to this excellent post by Todd Alcott on Annie Hall and rom-coms:
Anyway, yes, Alvy Singer is the protagonist of Annie Hall. And yes, what he wants is “the eggs,” but he doesn’t really understand that until the end of the movie (and I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that Allen didn’t know that until he was done editing the movie). The reason Annie Hall feels so lived-in, so detailed, so real, is because there was a whole hour’s worth of other material in there, a whole tapestry of narrative, that got cut out. The result is that the characters seem to have rich inner lives that continue after the scene is done. Annie Hall is, nominally, about Alvy’s failed love affair with Annie, but because of all the details about Alvy’s life and career, all the odd little neuroses and flashes of magic realism, it seems to be more about “love itself,” re-defined for a new, more self-aware generation.
Josh also chimes in at his blog “Daily Dojo” with this post on how to respond to negative feedback on your script:
Now let me stipulate that, if you receive a negative response to your script, it doesn’t necessarily mean the person giving it to you is WRONG. They may be right, your work may indeed suck. You could, in fact, be a terrible writer. It’s not only possible, if it’s your first script, it’s entirely probable … the first step is always the toughest.
However, this post isn’t about judging the WORTH of feedback (that’s a subject for another day) or if feedback is necessary (I’ll save you some time … it is) but about dealing with person (face to face or online) giving you the negative critical feedback.
Danny Stack at “Scriptwriting in the U.K.” offers a nice Q&A here with Esther Campbell who won a BAFTA (Best Live Action Short) for September which she wrote and directed:
What advice would you give to new filmmakers, or someone about to make a short film?
Make your own mistakes, be original, do YOUR film, not someone else’s.
Patrick Goldstein at the L.A. Times “The Big Picture” provides analysis of Peter Chernin’s departure from News Corp:
Rupert can’t imagine that he’s going to die,” says one highly placed Murdoch watcher. “These guys just aren’t in touch with reality. Look at Rupert’s hair — he won’t even admit to going gray. The only person with a worse dye job is Paul McCartney. For them, giving up power would be the equivalent of dying. And as long as Wall Street doesn’t say — we’re not going to buy your stock until you arrange a succession plan — they can get away with it.” It’s true — power is a powerful aphrodisiac. What else would these guys do with themselves? Old Universal studio hands remember that long after Lew Wasserman had sold the studio, he still came to his office every day, even though his power was gone and his desk was empty. It was his life.
John August provides some timely advice about, well… time — he primary slugline time-stamp that is — in this post:
Sluglines are there to help production, but they also help readers. If venturing slightly beyond the confines of DAY or NIGHT makes the read easier, do it.
And finally Mystery Man on Film links to a Slate article that explains various producing titles:
The top post of “producer” is just the tip of the iceberg, as anyone who’s watched the opening credits of a movie knows well. Although Slumdog Millionaire, for example, credits only one producer, it lists two executive producers and two co-executive producers, along with a co-producer, an associate producer, and a line producer.
Blog on!
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