Adapting Ennis

Took my folks to see Brokeback last night.  They're very with-it New Yorkers who normally would've been there and back, right after it opened, but my dad's been laid up after an accident (No Good Deed Goes Unpunished Dept: hailing a cab for a friend, he slipped on the icy sidewalk and broke his knee) so they're just starting to catch up with cultural developments that don't involve like, the latest innovations in physical therapy.

Anyway, I was happy to see the movie again, an experience that gained a certain frisson of aural comedic poignance when seated with my dad on one side (hard of hearing, he kept asking me to clarify bits of dialogue, while occasionally making too-loud comments like "great shot of sheep!") and my mom on the other (halfway through the film, she evidently swallowed a phantom frog, and accompanied the soundtrack from then on out with an intermittent aria of throat-clearing).

Regardless, the movie worked its admirable magic on us all: ever the student, I was fascinated to observe the nuances of craft I'd been too emotionally devastated to study the first time and really appreciate the acting (Michelle Williams' showier performance earned her the nom, but Anne Hathaway's phonecall-in-close-up scene is some fine piece of work, while Kate Mara, as Ennis's daughter, suggests a camera-likes-her star in the making). My dad's comment at the end was "I got more involved with those two men as a couple than I did in any movie I've seen this year about a man and a woman," and my mom kept repeating, "Sad! It's so, so sad!"

And of course we're not a family stone alone. That the movie's profits are predictably booming in the wake of Oscar noms (thankfully making fools of Bill O'Reilly and other pig-headed pundits who claimed "America doesn't want to see this movie") is one thing, while the fact that, according to the NY Times Monday, there've been more hits on brokebackmountain.com from Arkansas than from any other state of the union (what was that about America, Bill?) is another. The movie has become the cultural equivalent of a depth charge bomb, affecting likely and unlikely folks alike in ways provocatively unpredictable.

Case in point: I did a personal consult on a screenplay last week written by a guy we'll call Steve, one tall drink of water from Orange County -- and that's not the O.C. where Mischa Barton's been a high-schooler, but the turf that could qualify California as a red state. Steve, a manly man, had written a romantic comedy that was weak in its characterization work.  And since it seemed clear to me that a certain reticence towards exploring his own personal issues was the real culprit, after going through page notes, we spent the better part of half an hour on ways to get Steve to stop hiding from himself (let alone the reader), me coming up with all manner of writing approaches, angles and exercises to ge the writer to expose his hidden truths.

With both of us exhausted, we lapsed into movie chat, and Brokeback came up.  Steve was particularly taken by Heath Ledger's portrayal of Ennis, and I ventured, dog with a bone, that finding movie roles one related to was another way of exploring character from a personal POV. Steve dutifully jotted this down, and we were onto the next topic when he suddenly got an odd look on his face, and blurted out "Ennis is my father."

This little psychic detonation did indeed lead the writer to a screenwriting breakthrough.  And I think it's an indication of how powerful the movie is, and how deeply it speaks to and penetrates our psyches. This is the kind of fallout Ang Lee and his posse hath wrought.  Lee is of course already reaping the kind of respect and awe due a director who's given new meaning to the word diversity (I can imagine the hyperbolic titles we can expect from his biographers, e.g. From Hiding Dragons to Herding Sheep). And one of the pleasures to be had from re-viewing Brokeback Mountain lies in examining the creation of Ennis, a collaboration between actor, director, writer and ace cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto; if you want to see some truly canny "characterization through lighting, angle and composition," check out how Lee and Prieto create a visual sonata of Avoiding Gazes out of Ledger's performance.

But there is of course a more primary collaboration at work here.  I first encountered Ennis when Annie Proulx's short story appeared in the New Yorker some years ago. And now, in a rare and revelatory display that amounts to a mini-master course in writing craft, we have BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN: FROM STORY TO SCREENPLAY.  That's right: read the story, read the script, along with essays by all the principals involved, including Proulx and adapters Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana. The compare and contrast exhibits include what got left in (e.g. verbatim dialogue), what got left out (e.g. some familial flashback material) and what was entirely invented (e.g. the whole subplot involving Ennis's daughter).

McMurtry's been a hero of mine since adolescence (his All of My Friends Are Going to Be Strangers was more my teenaged literary touchstone than Catcher in the Rye), and his credits play in my head like a literary version of that "Dayenu" chant from the Passover Seder (had he only written Last Picture Show, and not Terms of Endearment,  we would have been satisfied, had he written Show and Terms, but not Lonesome Dove, we would've been satisfied, etc.).  On top of all this, he recently made award show history by having the humor and humility to thank his typewriter, when he and Ossana got their Globes.

But for anyone who's interested in the art of adaptation, the craft of character, and the study of cinematic storytelling (see, for example, just how that amazing final shot of Brokeback came to pass, from page to screen), the Story to Screenplay book is a required read.

Comments

[jamy]

Did you really think Michelle Williams' performance was showy? I liked what she did--though the post-divorce blow-up scene was a little over the top.

I don't think I could see the film again since it made me so sad, but Heath Ledger was amazing.

[MaryAn]

Hadn't planned on seeing the film. Just doesn't do anything for me. But, with its wins, nominations and your assertion that it is critical to the development of my craft, I'll put it on my list and pick up the book.

[shecanfilmit]

The book is definitely one of my next purchases.

I had the good fortune to be on a treadmill at the health club a few Sundays ago, channel surfing the TV attached to the thing. I came across a show where Peter Gruber and someone else interviews actors and writers. (I don't know what the name of the show, do you?) They had on Larry McMurty and Diana Ossana - a 10+ minute interview. It was fabulous. Diana recounted how she read the story in the middle of the night in 1997, and thought it was brilliant. The next day, she asked Larry to read it. He didn't want to - he told her he doesn't do short fiction. She got him to read it, and immediately he wanted to adapt it. They said it was the only time in their work together where they both agreed right away to pursue something. They wrote Annie Proulx and a week later had optioned the story. It's also the only time either of them put up THEIR OWN MONEY to get the project going. It was a fascinating interview.

I have not seen the film. Sometimes, when a film comes out that I really, really want to see, I put it off, like one saves a special bottle of wine for just the right time.

[Writergurl]

Seen it, cried over it, and thankfully, haven't had to live it. Although, sadly, I know some folks who have had to live like Ennis. Horrible, horrible way to live your life, constantly denying who you are.

I hope and pray that HW sees this movei not only in terms of dollars (which we all know is the FIRST priority) but also in terms of stories that CAN be told.

[JJ]

I guess I'm going to have to see it at some point, but I really don't want to.

[mernitman]

Jamy: No, I just meant Willams' is the kind of role -- since it plays big, emotionally, that the Academy has traditionally favored.

MaryAn: Yikes, my responsibility meter just shot way into the red...

SheCan: One of the probs with a phenomenon like this is that the hype invariably overwhelms the movie, so in a way, it's good to wait and see it after the fuss has died down. Bear in mind that it really is a "small" movie (and only seems Big because of all the controversy it's raised)...

WriterG: I do think a certain tacit barrier has been broken, in terms of what "the market can handle." I also don't think films that can handle such subject matter so sensitively are going to be a dime a dozen.

JJ: It's that sheep phobia thing, isn't it? Wool just gives you the willies... right?

[Denise]

I agree about Anne Hathaway. Her character was so over the top that it was easy to miss what was revealed in her expressions.

I'm not a writer (obviously) but I plan on reading that book. I love reading about the creative process.

[Writergurl]

Yes I know, which is why I struggle so with my lesbian script. I got a big chuckle when one of my readers on Triggerstreet called it a "lesbian Brokeback " movie.

[mernitman]

Hey Denise: Indeed. Like that wonderful look she gives her son in the end of the "Jack finally goes upside Dad's fat head" scene.

WriterG: Um, but don't give up the struggle -- Take back the night! Etc.