Time And Small Things

I was reading an old interview with Paul Schrader last night, in which he said something to the effect that, it’s the small things in a screenplay that matter.

The temptation when trying to emulate Hollywood is that we look at emulating the big things and yet, I think Paul’s right… it is in the intimate details that a script becomes magical.

The example he uses is the “ice cream fight” in Kramer vs Kramer. For me it’s Bill Murray sitting in a Japanese Hotel room with a Fed Ex package full of carpet samples. It’s such a superbly observed example of how all life becomes incomprehensible when you’ve got jet lag.

I think this is really important when we get to the actual screenwriting — the actual construction of scenes. Often we’re so involved in the plot, the story arc, the reversals, subtext and beats of the conflict, that we forget that scenes can be incredible simple, if they are well observed.

If you show the audience something that they recognise as true, but just have never seen portrayed in that way, they will love you for that moment.

Out of fear of failure, it is possible for a well educated screenwriter to over think their screenplay and miss out on the good stuff right in front of them.

The other point I wanted to make today is about films and time.

Most people think like novelists, when they think about time — they think in a linear way: this happens and then this happens and then this happens.

Film doesn’t work like that and screenwriters need to break free of the idea of linear time and realise that film is a medium where time can and should be messed about with.

In “Bringing Out The Dead” Nick Cage walks towards a door, we hear the bell ring before he gets there and then they cut straight to the door being answered. We never see him press the door bell, we never see him walk all the way to the door, we never see him waiting for the door to be answered.

This very simple example embodies “film time,” because in film you only ever have to show the audience what they NEED to see, and you don’t have to show it to them in the real time order.

This understanding that time is plastic in film is vital to creating interesting movies. Because it gives you the freedom to tell the story however you want. Or, rather however you can best give the clues to the audience.

Malaria And Me

So yesterday I was feeling pretty negative about the whole project and couldn’t figure out why.

Inexperienced actors and lack of crew has never been an issue for me in the past — in fact, these have always been areas in which I’ve been really strong. So, what was the big issue yesterday!

Well. last night answered that question — I had a rotten night’s sleep: incredibly vivid dreams, sweated like a pig, stiff all over (and not in a good way!) — this morning I feel like twenty-two miles of bad road!

Yep, looks like I’ve copped a mild dose of malaria or some other infection that my body is desparately trying to fight off.

Hence all the negative feelings about both the project and the script.

The truth is, the script has real potential, if I can get through this final act and get the conclusion I’m looking for.

As usual I’m facing classic act four writing problems — my characters have developed away from the plot, in the previous three acts (in ways I wasn’t expecting) and therefore, even though the conclusion of the movie will be pretty much what I expected, I can’t get there the way I originally planned. Damn it!
If I still had a working brain, this wouldn’t be a massive problem — but trying to replot this movie when I’m working at about 54% of normal capacity is no joke. And because this is act four, the irony is, the clock is ticking! I’ve got thirteen days to sort this out.

The dificulties on this project are all about writing in a culture that I’m only just starting to get a handle on. It makes even simple scenes a real effort to get right.

However, because half of the story is a European girl’s “lost in translation” experiences of coming to Ghana, on one level I’m right in the groove.

In fact, if I had to pitch this movie in a “jaws meets krammer vs kramer, in space!” type way, I’d probably pitch it like this “Lost in Translation meets Billy Elliot … in West Africa.”

So, ignore everything I wrote yesterday, it was the illness talking!

However, on the list of reasons why you might not want to make a film here, add one more thing: can easily get malaria!

Micro-Budget Africa

There are a lot of good reasons for thinking about micro-budget film production in West Africa.

The first and most obvious is you get access to a wealth of exotic locations.

The second is, like California, the weather is incredibly predictable — I’ve been here over four weeks and I there hasn’t been a single day I couldn’t have shot external locations. Not only that the light is consistent, there aren’t a lot of variations from day to day. OK, today is slightly overcast and yesterday wasn’t — but all in all, there haven’t been anywhere near the level of variations that can play havoc with a UK schedule.

The other key advantage is it’s cheap. Not $1000 cheap, for reasons I’ll explain in a minute — but, it’s not inconceivable that you could shoot an entire feature here, pay all the actors and crew the going rate for the work and have a completed production for under say $30,000.

And that $30,000 would buy a look for your movie that would cost you millions to do anywhere else. I’m talking about pulling together a movie where you have maybe with four or five set pieces, with over two hundred extras per set piece.

I think it’s fair to say that labour here is cheap.

So, like I said, there are a lot of advantages to doing micro-budget here.

However, there are also drawbacks.

There is no industry here — so all the skilled crew you’d need to work with, you’ll need to import. The same goes for your kit. There’s no point in even asking whether there is a HD camera you can hire if yours goes down — if you need a particular filter, then you better have brought it with you.

On top of this, because there is no industry, there is also no acting talent base. Once you start importing actors your costs fly back up to European levels. so this means any indie wanting to film here, needs to be confident in their ability to take “raw” talent and get the performances you need from it.

So, there are pros and cons.

This isn’t the kind of environment for a sucessful $1000 movie though — mainly because a $1000 movie is essentially a smart parasite. It depends on the existence of a larger, more profitable industry it can beg, steal and borrow from.

That industry doesn’t exist in West Africa.

As it stands today, I have real questions about whether I want to bring a production here. The script that now is into its last act is interesting, but it’s not viral, it’s not uber-high concept, I don’t wake up every morning dying to make it.

What it is, is an interesting film, but only because the story is set here — if I told the same story in Mancester England, it wouldn’t be half as interesting.

So, this is the question — is the exoticness alone enough to make this project worthwhile?

Answers on a postcard.

The other problem is, for the first time in my career, I feel like the project is beyond my abilities. The cons side of the list is looking too steep.

I’ve worked in difficult situations before, shot in Mexico City, where I had a great crew and cast.

That’s what bothering me, really; the fact that my small imported team would have to carry the whole weight of the production.

Maybe it’s because I’m feeling the burden of completeing this script before I leave in two weeks — but at the moment, this feels less and less attractive.

There is also another lesson for me here — if I’d stayed at home I could have used these six weeks to get a first draft of the $1000 movie written — and that’s a movie that I really, really believe in and know that I want to make.

Sometimes, I forget one of the qualities a good film maker needs is focus. To concentrate on the significant project rather than to just head off everytime something interesting appears on the horizon.

A sobering thought and I think this is easily my first big error on the $1000 movie project — one I hope won’t be too costly.

That’s the thing with lost time — you can’t buy it back.

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