Fiction writing is great. You can make up almost everything.
--Ivana Trump, upon finishing her first novel
If you have information on the screen that doesn't move the story forward, you are taking moments away from people's lives.
--Callie Khouri, screenwriter, Thelma & Louise
We got roped into it -- one of those things that you say 'yes' to because it sounds like fun -- and now my friend Barbara Abercrombie and I are going to face 55+ students this Saturday on the UCLA campus, for a one-day UCLA Extension Writers Program seminar entitled, with idiot-cheery gung-ho-ism, Exploring the Core Elements of Storytelling in Film and Fiction.
Never taught this course before -- never taught with another teacher before, for that matter -- we had to make it up from scratch. And it wasn't far into our first meeting, trying to come up with a syllabus, that the two of us found ourselves staring into the abyss with mute horror, as in, What the f--k were we thinking?!
Because um, the core elements of storytelling? Like, how fiction tells a story and how film does it? Either side of the equation's good for a ten-week course, easy, or a couple of hefty textbooks. So: do 'em both together, crammed into a single 9:30 to 4:30 marathon with a break for lunch (and perhaps, massive drug intake)? I'll repeat it, as I have so often lately: What the effin f--kety f--k were we thinking?!
Ah, but we're a couple of troupers, of course (while some might say: gullible masochists), so we've cobbled together a pretty decent show. But this blog post needs be brief, actually, because we're still working on it. Thought you might be interested, though, in a couple of observations that've come up in the process.
At times our discussions have threatened to engender a sort of Mexican wrestling match between the two mediums: "In this corner, deep as Tolstoy, silver-tongued as Virginia Woolf, weighing an incredible metaphysical number of pounds... the amazing Super Insightful Inside Point-o-View Man! And over here, scary as Jaws, as moving as Casablanca, larger and longer than that spaceship from the opening shot of Star Wars... it's the awesome, fantastical Super-Intense Reality-Made-Realer Guy!" But what's become clear is a central theme to our discourse:
Fiction owns the interior world, but Film's got exterior reality by a landslide.
When it comes to explicating life from the inside out, to giving a reader a vivid, galvanizing experience of what it's like to inhabit the soul of a human being, fiction has an undeniable edge. But fiction's at a disavantage when it comes to creating an undeniably present world -- it has to constantly conjure up bits and pieces of it, while film can make the whole of a reality consistently "real," with a force that fiction rarely musters.
Both mediums are after the same thing in storytelling, to some extent; they seek to make a given human experience empathetic and moving to the audience. But while fiction has the advantage of first person point of view, thought process, sense-memory, commentary, summary and all that goes with it, film has to go after the same goods from the outside-in. And therein lies its craft, and along with it, an arsenal of tools (cutting, camera movement, sound, lighting, et al) that in terms of sheer visceral excitement, can give fiction a run for the money.
Now as to the ends created by these means, each medium brings its own peculiar predilections to bear on what we think of as "good story." The on-line magazine Flak did an interesting series on this topic, using four different writers to look at film v. fiction, but that's not what Barbara and I are after. We're trying to identify what each of the mediums has to offer in terms of what works, and how. Which has led us to another observation:
Each form's asset is the other one's liability.
I told Barbara that too many of my screenwriting students are fixated on plot. They know their way around a three-act structure and are obsessed with making it do their bidding, while such minor aspects of the craft as say, creating credible, empathetic, compelling characters get short shrift. Barbara's plaint was an ironic opposite: her fiction students are all too apt to focus on expressing their feelings and wallowing in character depths... while forgetting to factor in a little nicetie like, a story that can hold the reader's attention.
I wish novel-writing had the limitations of screenwriting, she said, noting that a screenwriter, by having the constriction of a three-act structure and a finite length, is actually allowed a different kind of freedom to explore character, theme, et al, within those pre-set boundaries. In a sense, novelists are prisoners of their freedom -- they can structure it (or not), go on for any length they want to... which can often lead the neophyte novelist into quicksand-laden swamps.
I had to laugh, reporting that I'd just had a meeting with a screenwriter who was bemoaning the tyranny of plot; "I'd like to make a movie that's just about the contradictions in people," she'd told me, in great frustration, "without having to tell, you know, a story." Writing film can make you nuts because like a shark, a screenplay has to keep moving (fueled by plot) to survive, while the problem/challenge in fiction is, as Robert Frost famously said about free verse (un-rhymed) poetry, it's like playing tennis without a net.
As someone who's worked in both forms, my heart goes out to one and all. But I secretly think the fiction-writer has a huge leg up, in this game. A novelist can speak to subtext -- boom, like that! and get the job done. (I can't believe I have to breathe the same air as this skank who's marrying my son, she thought, and smiled brightly. "What kind of sandwich would you like, dear?") A screenwriter may have to tie herself in knots to get across the same subtext, and in the end will largely be at the mercy of an actress and a director, to translate what the novelist can nail down in no uncertain specifics.
At any rate, so the debate continues. And truth be told, I'm having fun with the course construction now (as the clock ticks toward launch). We decided to start the class with Barbara reading a couple of excerpts from fiction that she passionately loves, to demonstrate the power of what that form can do. And I would come up with a film clip to serve the same introductory function -- you know, really show off the magic of cinema.
Fellini, I thought, Kubrick? Bergman? Bertolucci? What I finally arrived at, however, makes me smile even to tell it. I'm going to follow Barbara's recitation of Annie Proulx and Joan Didion's deathless, high-flown prose with that scene from King Kong where little Naomi Watts turns a few cartwheels and juggles, to convinces a homicidal 1000-pound gorilla not to eat her.
Only in the movies, y'know? No dialogue, no great depth -- just a should-be-impossible vision made real, packing story, story, story that keeps your butt glued to your seat and your eyes stuck on the screen. Of course, Barbara's got some mad-fantastic poetry to follow that clip, liable to make all 55 in the room tear up --
All things considered, probably not a waste of time, this gig. So if you happen to be in L.A. this weekend and want to join us, go to this Writers' Program link (click on "Quick Enroll" and type the registration number R9183W in the search box) or call the Program at 310-206-0951. Plot, character, theme, setting, dialogue... couple of writers teachin'n'preachin'... come to think of it, could be a hoot.
"Fiction owns the interior world, but Film's got exterior reality by a landslide"
Love this expression in your post! Totally how I feel about the two mediums. Are you familiar with Todorov and the psychological vs. the a/psychological?
Posted by: Lucy | April 19, 2006 at 01:23 AM
As someone who switches back and forth so he can fail equally in both mediums (media?), I would just like to say, "A skank is marrying your son? I didn't know you had children."
Don't forget the evil that both allow: backstory. Tell them not to use backstory for God's sake. Just keep repeating "slow reveal" over and over. You'll do the world a favor in both media (mediums?).
Posted by: JJ | April 19, 2006 at 07:31 AM
Hey JJ, I probably made it up (medium/media). But I'm from the UK. This allows me to bend the english language at will ; )
Posted by: Lucy | April 19, 2006 at 07:45 AM
So, the definition of "fiction" being used here is novella? Film, like literature, is fictional and non-fictional but you mean novels, short stories, etc? Cobwebs in my brain today. Somebody get me a broom.
Posted by: MaryAn | April 19, 2006 at 08:22 AM
Proprietary Man,
Don't worry about the class, really on your wit and charm and you'll do fine.
If you're going to defend cimema v.s. fiction. You don't simpy have to go the action/adventure route. What about movies such as "What Women Want" and "As Good as It Gets". Both great movies, that feel like adaptations of fiction. Sometimes cinema does fiction right, "Lord of the Rings" for example. Read the book -- yawn... Loved the movie, quickened pace
Don't get me wrong, books let you in the head of people much better than movies. But honestly if "Silence of the Lambs" was a book would you want to read it? Naw... Sometimes a hour and a half with someone is enough! One could sucessfully agrue that in some cases cimema is better for character study than fiction.
Hope things go well for you on Saturday. Have fun!
- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA
Posted by: E.C. Henry | April 19, 2006 at 08:55 AM
What an exciting subject matter. Good luck. You guys are going to need a lot of it to handle such a complicated subject matter -- where for everything you say, someone can probably find an example that counters it --
Posted by: Neil | April 19, 2006 at 10:33 AM
Lucy: not familiar with Todorov (possible Russian Toto cover band?), so do tell.
JJ: Oh, yeah. YOU say "slow reveal" to an aspiring screen/writer. And then have someone wake you a few weeks later when they get to the point.
MaryAn: Yuh-huh -- fiction as in, prose on the page (novel, novella, short story). Sweep... sweep...
Sure thing, E.C.
Um, Neil? Thanks a LOT -- that's JUST what I needed to hear...
Posted by: mernitman | April 19, 2006 at 01:20 PM
Todorov talked about the psychological vs. the a/psychological...Was quite straight forward really: if psychological is *of* the mind, then a/psychological is *not*, so novels are psychological and films are a/psychological. Obviously there's more to it than that as Todorov devoted his entire life to narratology, but that's the gist! Here's a cool links section that should send you in the direction of more stuff on narratology if you want it: http://www.narratology.net/html/links.html
Posted by: Lucy | April 19, 2006 at 01:30 PM
I actually read a script at Zoetrope with dialogue like this:
BOB
Hello, Virginia, my wife of nine years whom I recently divorced.
VIRGINIA
Hello, Bob, I am happy with my new husband, Roger, now.
And repeat until projectile vomiting ensues.
Posted by: JJ | April 20, 2006 at 08:25 AM
Lucy: Thank you for the link. They use Very Big Words over there...
JJ: I wish you were kidding but I know you're not. I'm sure the novelization was much stronger:
"Hello, Virginia," Bob said to his wife of nine years whom he'd recently divorced.
"Hello, Bob," replied Virginia, who was happy now with her new husband, Roger...
Posted by: mernitman | April 20, 2006 at 01:33 PM
"Troupers" as in:
A member of a theatrical company.
A veteran actor or performer. Or -
A reliable, often hard-working person?
Probably all three on Saturday.
I'm also suffering quote envy. The two that open the post are perfect.
Posted by: Babs | April 20, 2006 at 01:37 PM
I actually read a script at Zoetrope with dialogue like this:
BOB
Hello, Virginia, my wife of nine years whom I recently divorced.
VIRGINIA
Hello, Bob, I am happy with my new husband, Roger, now.
And repeat until projectile vomiting ensues.
OMG!? Aaron Sorkin should be worried.
cheers
Dave
Posted by: Dave | April 20, 2006 at 06:26 PM