READ THESE SCREENPLAYS AND SEE THESE FILMS

READ AND SEE THESE FILMS 

In my L.A. Classes, I'm constantly shocked by some of the seminal films students haven't seen and sometimes haven't even heard of. I'll reference, say, David Lynch's Blue Velvet only to find blank young faces, completely unaware of Frank Booth's amyl nitrate-enhanced charms. Forget about Chinatown (winner Best Original Screenplay), fifty-plus-percent roll snake eyes on L.A. Confidential (winner Best Original Screenplay) and the numbers are exponentially worse for Tender Mercies and Breaking Away (both winners Best Original Screenplay). This stunning list of omissions seems to grow longer with every new session, and often leaves me head-in-hands, muttering to myself like the bitter old hater I've always feared becoming (i.e. "Hey you kids! Get off my lawn!").

 

Here's the deal -- Continually educating yourself by viewing the very best scripted films in history is every bit as important as knowing what's crowding today's multiplexes. In fact, from a screenwriter's point of view, I can make a superb argument that it's about a thousand times more important.

 

Why? Because there's a level of craftsmanship and storytelling involved in past eras that simply isn't being required of content these days. The vast majority of new studio films are neither intended nor expected to have the same life-altering impact perhaps they once did. Previous generations were rewarded differently by their moviegoing. Real people would make life choices after particularly soulful cinematic experiences they felt spoke directly to them -- decide on which careers to pursue or exotic places to live, expose themselves to bold ideas about whom they might become someday. One of America's greatest treasures, the incomparable Martin Scorcese, provides undeniable proof of how powerful this dynamic was for an earlier generation of movie lovers.

 

Even today's "A-List" -- the "go-to guys" -- seems less and less capable of landing their stories and being able to "close". Both The Sopranos and True Detective, brilliant and beloved as they both are, pulled epic collapses at the finish line -- and they're still light years ahead of 90% of nonsensical theatrical releases. Most cynical IMHO are projects like Lost or Star Trek (2009), which don't seem to give a shit whether they land or not -- they make open declarations of faking it, ignoring the most rudimentary logic or plausibility in smug confidence the public will pay out for half-assed storytelling anyway.

 

In both cases they did, justifying this approach to many. But realistically -- was Star Trek that good or the brand that big? The same case can be made about The Phantom Menace -- perhaps the most reviled (and most profitable) stinker in sci-fi history. Here on Tough Love's pages, honesty is job one. In the spirit of that, let's be entirely honest with one another -- you could project a fuckin' Pop-Tart on screen for two hours and it'd be a hit with the Star Trek or Star Wars brand backstopping it. How much credit should the writers and filmmakers really get for that? Especially when there's no argument the story blows?

 

But hey, free country, to each their own. Maybe you savored Star Trek's plot holes and pained coincidences, believe Jar Jar Binks is pure genius. Convincing you otherwise is a fool's errand I'll decline to undertake at this stage in my life.

 

Educating yourself with the unrivaled best is what's critical, that's the takeaway here. Learn from the highlights, not the lowlights. Your goal is to become a legit five-tool threat, the Derek Jeter of Final Draft -- not some slacker hoping to sneak by invoking the dirty little secret that convenience trumps quality and nobody really cares. Evolving writers will benefit greatly from not drinking the Kool-Aid and getting caught up in the hype. If you're naive (or uneducated) enough to believe some graduate of the Star Trek/Lost school (flashy concept/fast-and-loose plot/epic failure to land) could carry the ink-stained Underwoods of legendary heavyweights like Paddy Chayefsky (Marty, The Hospital, Network) or a young, N.Y.C. taxi-driving Oliver Stone (Midnight Express, Scarface, Salvador, Platoon), then I'd urge you to lay off the OG Kush Wax and read a real fuckin' screenplay sometime.

 

There's an old saying -- "In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king." Yeah? What about the guy with both eyes? What kind of advantage will he or she have whenever things boil down to the pages at hand?

 

I get it, my malnourished Millennials -- if you're under thirty some of the vintage titles seem prehistoric and glacially paced. Older films do use medium shots pretty generously (reason -- so you can figure out where the fuck you are during the action) and they steadfastly refuse to shake the camera like it's got a king-sized vibrator jammed up its joy tunnel. Guilty as charged. They also used (GASP!) real fire for the explosions instead of CG, and no, the pyro crew on Apocalypse Now didn't give a shit about "keeping it green". You'll just have to deal with the joyful injustice of that.

 

Revisiting several favorites from back in the day, I couldn't help but notice the lead actors also looking like normal people -- they hadn't sand-blasted their teeth Liquid Paper white, didn't have Brazil-level plastic surgery stretching foreheads drum tight, hadn't subjected themselves to multiple alkaline lemon cleanses and the Lap Band. So yeah, I can see where you'd be lost and slightly disoriented when viewing one of these cobwebbed chestnuts and its forgotten race of surgically unenhanced human beings.

 

(See, exactly what I'm talking about -- Brazil. Another seminal film you probably haven't seen yet.)

 

There's no denying it can be hard to find many titles these days. Older catalogues often get short shrift on streaming services in favor of Transformers 19, and unless you have the cashish for collector-priced DVDs on fleaBay you may be shit out of luck. However, in a fascinating digital-era twist of fate, film fanatics worldwide have somewhat taken matters into their own hands by sharing out-of-print classics via BitTorrent sites. The quality isn't always great, VHS or low-quality TV rips are common, but thanks to these dedicated cappers, sharing the cinematic lessons of many lost gems is still possible.

 

Insane as it seems, rights holders appear perfectly content to let these titles continue vanishing into the abyss -- despite the emergence of lower-cost streaming technologies, legal downloads, etc. There's a blanket assumption they can't be profitable or no longer have any "commercial appeal". Meanwhile, they're voluntarily giving away a king's ransom in potential online income to P2P. One hundred percent of nothing is nothing, fellas. The math doesn't get more basic. When reasonably priced, I believe most people would honestly prefer buying the real deal from the official studio. It guarantees quality and it's something they can feel good about -- making it a win-win for everyone.